#anyway shout out to my butch best friend

[sapphosboy]

Was talking today with a friend about how monumental it was for me as a trans person and a lesbian who was uncomfortably presenting feminine, to meet my butch best friend in college, and how just being friends with them, and hearing about their experience as a butch really allowed me the space to feel comfortable exploring my own gender expression and identity, and how I feel like I’m a more complete person for having known them because they made me feel so incredibly safe in the journey and I now feel so much more comfortable presenting the way I want to and not the way I expect people to want me to, and the friend I was talking to said that I was that for them. So dress as faggy as you fucking want to and be as loud as you want to about it. It’s your god-given right to be DRIPPING with dykery and transgenderism because you never know if you’re going to be that lightbulb moment or safe queer space for someone!

[venus-haze]

Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf? (Foxy Coltrane x Reader)

Summary: It’s Halloween, 1985, and your Little Red Riding Hood costume catches the attention of the Midnight Wolfman himself.

Note: Female (incredibly unhinged) reader. Foxy calls the reader “Red” because of the Halloween costume, not due to any physical descriptors. I've literally been working on this since February🫠 Anyway, this is for all the old man fuckers out there🖤 Except if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Discussions of canon typical violence. Sexually explicit content involving semi-public play, oral sex (m. receiving) and light roleplaying elements.

October 31, 1985

As soon as you walked into the bar up the road from your place, you immediately wanted to walk out. Having no other plans for Halloween night, you figured you could make the best of going solo. Wore a cute little costume to see where the night led you. Somehow you ended up in a bar where no one else was dressed up for the holiday that called for it. At least, not to the extent you were. Sure, it was a mass-produced Little Red Riding Hood costume you bought on your way home from work, but you made it your own with some makeup and cute heels you dug out of your closet.

You trudged over to the bar, soon nursing your drink and your hurt feelings. With your lip pouted in a slight sulk, you looked around, hoping to catch someone’s attention. Just when it seemed like all hope was lost, a man approached. Dark eyes locked on you. Sly grin on his face. Older, handsome in a scruffy way that your friends always teased you for being into.

You craned your neck to look up at him from your barstool. He sure as hell had that going for him too.

“I dig your costume, Little Red.”

You smiled. “Thanks. Seems like I’m the only one here who got the memo that it’s Halloween.”

“Hell, Halloween is everyday for me,” he said.

“You got a name?”

“You can call me the Midnight Wolfman.” He threw his head back and bellowed out a howl.

Your eyes widened. Heart might’ve skipped a beat. 

Shouts and cheers punctuated the sound, a few of the bar patrons following his lead with weak howls of their own. 

He was probably crazy. Or drunk. Likely both. But fuck, why else would you have gone out on Halloween?

“Buy me a drink, Wolfman?” 

“Glad to, Red.” 

He sat down at the stool next to you, long legs splayed out as one of his boots rested between your heels on your footrest. He claimed your space so easily, you nearly forgot you’d only just met him.

Two shared shots of whiskey later, your face was warm as he leaned in to talk. His easy drawl lured you closer, knees touching, close enough that you could see yourself in his steel blue gaze. You nearly suggested finding a booth to squeeze into. 

Your mind raced with visions of him pulling you onto his lap, his big hands all over you, lips attached to your neck while the other bar patrons were none the wiser.

“Most people call me Foxy, though,” he said.

You furrowed your brows, hoping you hadn’t been fantasizing through too much of the conversation. “Foxy?”

“That’s my name. Winslow Foxworth Coltrane.”

“I like it. Sounds like an F. Scott Fitzgerald character or something.”

“Who’s that?”

“He wrote The Great Gatsby.”

“Oh yeah, I saw that one, had Redford in it. Kind of a snoozefest if you ask me. I mean, hard to follow up Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,” he said. “What kind of movies are you into, Red?”

“I love horror, especially the gory shit,” you said before you could think twice. 

He grinned, giving you a nod of approval. “Right on.”

“My favorite is probably The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. Have you seen that one?”

“Yeah, it was great. Reminds me of my family.”

You laughed. “No kidding.”

His smile wavered, and for the first time all night it felt like you two weren’t on the same wavelength. Had you missed something in your half-drunk stupor? Was there something he mentioned that you fantasized through?

“Um, how about you?” you asked, trying to salvage the connection. “Westerns?”

“I’m into the classics, like those old monster movies.”

“Well, you’re way more handsome than Lon Chaney, Wolfman.”

“That’s ‘cause I’m the real deal, baby.”

“I believe it.”

“Yeah?”

You licked your lips. “With a howl like yours? Makes a girl think you could eat her alive.”

“C’mere,” he growled, pulling you to him. 

His lips were on yours, wild and passionate that would keep you up the rest of the night even if nothing else happened. The way he had his hands on you, though, bringing you closer to him, deepening the kiss so you could taste the whiskey on his tongue, the very same he bought you, made you certain he wanted the night to end exactly the same way you did.

He pawed at your ass, his hands pushing up your short, red, satin skirt until your panties peaked out. You moaned when his fingers brushed the wet spot on the fabric, pushing against your clit. Fuck the notion of a getting busy in a back booth, you were ready to let him take you up against the bar if you weren’t so rudely interrupted.

“Hey, c’mon,” the bartender said, looking equally disturbed and exasperated. “You guys can’t—”

Foxy slammed his palm onto the bar, nearby glasses rattling on impact. “Motherfucker, if you don’t get out of my girl’s face I’ll crack your skull open.”

A smile twitched across your lips.

“Get out before I call the cops. Both of you.”

Foxy stood up. “Think I’m scared of some fuckin’ pigs?” Grabbed a nearby beer bottle and smashed it against the bar. Before you could blink, the jagged edge was pressed against the bartender’s throat. If anyone noticed what was going on, they sure as hell weren’t trying to intervene. “By the time they get here I could gut you like a fish.” 

A delirious thrill rolled down your spine at the gleam in Foxy’s eyes. 

“Look man, you—you don’t even have to pay for the drinks. Just go, alright?”

Deathly silence fell over the altercation, the bartender glancing between Foxy’s wild face and the broken bottle.

Do it, a dark, repressed part of you, ravenous for blood, hissed.

Foxy laughed, shaking his head. “You’re a fuckin’ pussy, man.” He threw his arm around you, letting the broken bottle shatter on the floor as he led you out.

“Don’t come back!”

“I wouldn’t shit here if I ate a gas station hot dog, asshole,” he shouted over his shoulder.

You pulled your polyester cloak a little tighter when you walked outside. Damn, you and Foxy probably looked like one hell of a pair to the people just getting to the bar.

The two of you stood in the middle of the parking lot while he lit a cigarette. “I don’t eat gas station hot dogs if I can help it. Give me indigestion. My ol’ man—well, adopted ol’ man—he used to make a mean fried chicken at his gas station,” he said, taking a drag. “Get a hankering for the stuff sometimes, and KFC sure as hell doesn’t cut it. Guess Colonel Sanders’ get-up is better than dressing like a clown, though.”

You interjected his rambling, “You would’ve done it, wouldn’t you? The bartender—”

“Wouldn’t have been the first time.” He stared you down, a predatory gleam in his eyes. He took a long drag, smoke rolling from his lips and circling above his head as he asked, “You afraid of the big bad Wolfman, Red?”

“Terrified.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“Then show me.”

“Mine or yours?”

“Mine. Yours. I don’t know—I need you, Foxy.” Your voice neared a whine. 

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Say that again.”

“I need you.” You tugged on his shirt. “Foxy, c’mon.”

“Yours. I can’t drive at night for shit.”

You grabbed him by the arm, practically pulling him over to your car. 

Jamming the key into the lock, you couldn’t open the driver’s side door fast enough, quickly unlocking the passenger door for him. Your hands would’ve been shaking if you weren’t gripping the steering wheel within an inch of your life as you peeled out of the parking lot the moment he finished adjusting the seat, moving it as far back as it could go to accommodate his long legs. 

“Mind if I turn on the radio?” Foxy asked.

“Sure. I don’t live far, though. Should only be ten minutes.”

He fiddled with the stations until a late night news broadcast mentioned the name Otis Driftwood. He paused before sitting back.

“‘Free the Three’ demonstrations in support of the notorious Devil’s Rejects death cult continue well into the night.”

The reporter detailed the Fireflys’ crimes, as if anyone could have missed them. Hundreds of gruesome murders to their names. You, just like everyone else in America, had been glued to the story when it broke. All work practically came to a halt when their trials were going on, obvious guilty verdicts amidst a media circus.

“What do you think of ‘em?” Foxy asked, breaking the silence.

“The Fireflys?”

“Yeah.”

You glanced at him, tearing your eyes off the road for a moment to gauge how he’d react to your answer. “I guess what they did is fucked up, but the police and military have done way worse. Like, Otis Driftwood never dropped nukes on entire cities,” you said. “Why?”

“That’s my family.”

“Really?”

“Well, Otis is my half-brother. The rest of ‘em are all adopted.”

You looked at him again. Then the road. Then him in disbelief. “Then you—“

“Told you I was the real deal, sweetheart.”

“Why didn’t you get caught?”

“I was already in the can. Crazy how that shit happens, huh?”

You hit the gas, accelerating from 50 to 85 in a flash. No cops. Didn’t matter. Foxy could handle them if there were. You pressed your thighs together. Almost considered pulling over and just fucking in the backseat. But where was the fun in that? The excitement? The vulnerability of letting a killer into your home, where you’re supposed to be safe, and hoping to god he wouldn’t see your kitchen knives and get some bright ideas? You moaned. Oh god. You moaned.

“Red?”

“I know, Foxy. I’m going as fast as I can.” Your voice was whiny, high-pitched, desperate. “Piece of shit car—”

He grinned, shaking his head. “You’re nuts.”

“Is that a turn off?”

“Hell no.”

——

You nearly dropped your keys by the time you unlocked the door to your apartment, Foxy feeling you up from behind while you fumbled with them, obviously amused by your racing pulse and trembling hands.

“Cool place,” he said when he walked inside. “You got any roommates or—”

You pushed him against the front door, your mouth on his, desperate, hungry for anything he’d give you. Slipping your hand between your bodies, you cupped the bulge in his jeans. He groaned into your mouth, and you squeezed gently, feeling his cock strain against the rough denim.

“Don’t tease,” he growled.

“It’s only teasing if you don’t follow through.” You kneeled in front of him, moving to untie your cloak while he unbuckled his belt, unzipping his jeans.

“Wait,” he said, “leave the costume on.”

“Whatever you want, Wolfman.”

He pulled his cock from his boxers, big enough to be intimidating at first glance. But he was a killer, part of the Firefly clan, for god's sake, you wouldn't falter, instead mustering up the courage you had to even invite him home in the first place.

“My, what a big cock you have,” you teased, taking it in your hand, spreading the precum at his tip with your thumb while slowly pumping his length.

“All the better to fuck that pretty mouth with, Red.”

You licked your lips, holding eye contact with him as you took him in your mouth. Something primal about him, inherently dangerous. He’d killed people before, probably done far worse. Could change his mind at any time and cause you a world of hell. You pressed your thighs together, trying to ignore the ache in your core for hopes he’d take care of it if you did a good enough job. With the way he dug his fingers into your scalp, loud curses and praises falling from his mouth, you weren’t doing half bad.

“Midnight Wolfman’s got you right where he wants you, huh, Red? Turned you into his little bitch?” he taunted. “C’mon, gimme a howl.”

You whined around his cock, choking a bit when he thrust in your mouth. You liked this version of the story a hell of a lot better. No one to save you. Just you, in your Little Red Riding Hood costume, and the wolf, his crooked teeth bared as he hissed through them, grinning down at you. And you brought him there. Invited him into your home knowing he could tear you apart if he wanted to—maybe you wanted him to.

“You’re a good slut, ain’t you?” He groaned. His cock twitched in your mouth, you could feel the salty taste of him on your tongue as he came with a howl. “Take it all, Red—fuck, take it.” As if you had much of a choice but to swallow, but his praise went to your head, to your pussy. “Fuck, you’re like a dream come true.”

Pulling back, sitting on your heels, you looked up at him with a newfound predatory gleam in your eye as he caught his breath.

“By the way,” you said, acutely aware of the wet ache between your thighs, “I live alone, if you wanna return the favor.”

[wen-kexing-apologist]

10 BL Boys I Want Carnally

I was tagged by @twig-tea, but I do what I want so I'm ignoring the Boys thing (and on at least one occasion the BL thing). Anyway, without further ado, and in no particular order.

Win!Lin- Cupid's Last Wish

LOOPHOLE FIRST!

gif by @angelbesideme

Thanks to Cupid's Last Wish, Jan is a boy here! So I am choosing Win from Cupid's Last Wish before he body swaps back. HOWEVER, if I'm honest, it was less Win and more masc!Jan that made my brain short circuit so do with that what you will.

Toon- Seneha Stories

I am breaking from the prompt immediately, but this is my post and I can do what I want, so I am choosing Toon from Seneha Stories, which @so-much-yet-to-learn brought my attention to. Seneha Stories is definitively not a BL, but Toon is hot, kind, sad, and he fucks so I'd be living my best life.

Miw, Neo, Shin, and Mae - 3 Will Be Free

THIS IS NOT ME SUGGESTING A FOURSOME, THIS IS JUST ME TRYING TO PREVENT FOUR OF THE TEN SPACES FROM BEING 3 WILL BE FREE.

I like it when my fictional women not only are capable of murder, but have, in fact, murdered. Miw and Mae are hot, competent, killers, fucking over evil billionaires so what is not to love?

I am not immune to Neo and his slutty little crop tops. He has three brain cells and they are all that is keeping him from not dying. Iconic to be honest.

I am not immune to Shin and his glasses, and his kindness. I mean, the boy got cut with a knife and not only comforted the kid that wounded him when he started freaking out but dated him.

Mollie - The Warp Effect

gif by @patpran

MY FIRST NON-BINARY REP IN THAILAND, MY BELOVED. Mollie is so fucking hot, they are talented, they have sick tattoos, they are fighting for themselves, and are changing the landscape of media, what is not to love?

You could also almost certianly put in any of Silvy's characters and I would probably want them carnally, cause...it's Silvy.

(honestly, I'd go for Nim too, but again, not for her character's personality, it's the masc!Jan effect)

Kim- KinnPorsche

gif by @namchyoon

For this scene and this scene only. Honestly, I think if nothing else this shows you that my type is people who could actually maybe kill me in a fight.

Or at the very least, people I could get in to a homoerotic fight with.

Anyway, Jeff gives me gender envy and the first time I saw this gifset, I thought he was a butch lesbian.

Speaking of homoerotic fights

Phaya and Sand - The Sign

MENACE! A MENACE I TELL YOU! I truly well and deeply have an appreciation for when someone who (I assume) typically would top absolutely just vibrates out of their skin at the first sign they might be topped.

And I'm adding Sand here as well because I think my jaw dropped like ten feet when I saw her on screen.

Sand, baby girl, let me know if Yai doesn't treat you right, cause I will.

King- Bed Friend

gif by @earthfluuke

Shout out to this man, I've seen him on at least three of these lists. But who could blame us? Look at him.

Choy Yu Na- Semantic Error

She did that bisexual sit and my heart was hers.

And for my last two picks, I certainly am asking myself the question, do I want them carnally or do I just want them?

Mork -My Ride

Helloooooooo Mr. Dimples. I mean....I feel like I don't need to explain myself here. We all get it, right? We understand, right? And besides, he gives rides for a living or something...

Minoru- Our Dining Table

HE'S JUST SO NICE, SO KIND, SO TIRED. @isaksbestpillow is so right, he is a mother. I love him.

Tagging @so-much-yet-to-learn, @solitaryandwandering, @respectthepetty and anyone else who sees this and wants to join!

[billiewena]

what is the best lesbian book/TV show in your opinion

hi! no idea how I got this ask since I'm but a simple bisexual spn blogger (which means I have bad taste by default) but always happy to give recs! don't know if there's any I can say is the "best" since they all have different merits and appeal.

TV SHOWS

haunting of bly manor (horror drama with a lesbian ghost love story, bittersweet ending but soooo good)

vida (dramedy with a nice mix of queer, lesbian a,nd actually butch characters...also emma hernandez is my ultimate "my wife is a bitch and I like her SO much" anyways I wish more people talked about this show)

she-ra and the princess of power (animated kids show, sapphic childhood best friends to enemies to lovers my beloved)

killing eve (crime thriller, insane enemies-AND-lovers dynamic, very sad this is ending...this is my hannibal)

sense8 (sci-fi-y action thriller show with a big cast of many queer characters and okay this is just an excuse to recommend this show but LISTEN nomi and amanita are the HEART of it and I adore them...bonus points for being the first trans lesbian couple on TV too <3)

one day at a time (family sitcom with a very charlie bradbury-esque nerdy lesbian that I adore and wish I had growing up)

wynonna earp (spn but they're sisters and also funnier and the sam-esque sister is hella gay)

and obligatory "the l word: generation q" shout-out if you just want some soap opera level lesbian drama (specifically generation q...I cannot ethically recommend the original but luckily you don't need to watch it to enjoy the reboot!)

BOOKS haven't been much a big reader since college tbh and most of it since has been YA/new adult but I do have some recs in that department at least:

kings, queens and in-betweens by tanya boteju

the miseducation of cameron post by emily danforth (has a movie adaptation too!)

not your sidekick by c.b. lee

let's take about love by claire kann (ace rights)

like water by rebecca podos

and also the graphic novels "heavy vinyl" & "laura dean keeps breaking up with me"

[liloelsagranger]

Night shift - finally a new Rocketshipping-fanfiction

My dear friends,

it’s been a while since I last posted an entry. Let me tell you why and what, besides Covid-19, made me pause from publishing fanfictions over the last couple of months. Of course, Switzerland was very affected by the pandemic and still is today. We had numerous lock-downs or as Swiss people call it “slow downs”. My mother got very sick last year, I almost lost her. The doctors said she would only live two or three more days, but my mom is a fighter. She had to stay at the hospital for months, she endured countless medical examinations, had to take meds and slowly learned to live again. I’m so proud of my mother that she was strong and determined to get better. When she turned back home, I started to take care of her and I hate to leave her on her own, even if we’re talking about half an hour or less. Right now, she’s doing quite good, actually, we’re on vacation and she makes a great effort to participate in life in Italy. She’s my role-model! She will never be the same as before, but she won’t give up, she wakes up every morning to make progress. I prayed for her and her well-being, I prayed every single night she might get another chance and now we’re here at the beach and dining in fancy restaurants. It’s been a horrible year for everyone, a year full of sorrow, tears and desperation, a year where I was constantly afraid, the hospital would call me with some bad news, but she did it! She survived and she fights for her life! So proud! Good news is: I passed my doctoral exams and I’m officially allowed to call myself Dr. phil. des. Melanie C. but that won’t ever stop me from loving Team Rocket so here it is - a brand new Rocketshipping-fanfiction for you guys. LOVE YOU! Night shift

Chapter 1:

It was past ten o’clock when that miserable looking guy entered the diner. He inconspicuously sat down in the farthest corner of the café and immediately hid his face behind the menu card. Nevertheless, Jessie the waitress could make out the pathetic expression on his face, how he was cowering like a whipped dog. She had seen quite a bit in this diner. Drunks, thugs, addicts and other needy people who asked for a sympathetic ear, compassion and understanding, but that guy was different. He suffered terribly, but did not dare to communicate, instead he hid from the world so as not to attract attention and quietly endure his fate. Jessie had to do something about it. Of course, she didn’t want to play the Good Samaritan. She knew the tricks of the men who entered this diner. Most of the time, they told the waitress tall tales, hoping to be comforted, whatever they meant by that. But this young man did not make a shady impressionHe was well dressed, looked well-groomed, and Jessie was especially struck by his bright emerald green eyes, the only thing in his face that had not yet been veiled by grief and sorrow. She decided to do something about his displeasure.

“Did you have a rough day?” she asked while disinfecting the table.

He looked briefly into her eyes and nodded. “That’s one way to put it,” he answered, the gaze immediately lowered again.

This would be a taciturn conversation, but Jessie didn’t give up easily, she was a natural at making even rocks talk.

“Listen! No matter what happened, I’ve seen or heard some things. If I can help you in any way, my name is Jessie and I’m in charge of this table today. Let me just get the gum out from under your seat and get you a cold drink. What would you like?” She pulled a spatula from her apron and rubbed away the remains of the spoiled brats that marred her diner.

‘Wow,’ the young man thought to himself. ‘A strong, self-confident woman who lends a hand herself and who’s not above cleaning up dirt.’ Their eyes met briefly, and he forced a wry smile.

“You know, kid. You can’t rely on anyone. If you want to get everything done, do it yourself and don’t trust anyone. This world doesn’t give you anything for granted!” She briefly wiped the back of his chair before disappearing behind the counter and pouring the young man an ice-cold Coke.

“I have rarely seen you so concerned about a customer. Normally you show yourself aloof and only take the order, so as not to get involved in embarrassing conversations. Must be a really great pike, this pathetic creature in the far corner. Could it be that you’ve got a tiny crush on this guy?” For Eddy, teasing his best friend was the greatest pleasure. He didn’t know her like that. Jessie usually resisted any kind of small talk. This was due to her dark past, when she had repeatedly fallen for advances from men who were never looking for a steady relationship, but for a quick fix. Eddy had witnessed this bad time of his friend, how her heart was broken, how she was badly played with, and how she was simply dropped like a hot potato. Jack was the worst example of them all. While Jessie was already hearing the wedding bells ringing, he was making love to the women of the Strip and deceiving Jessie night after night with other broads. Jessie was devastated when she found out Jack was cheating on her. She was furious, not even at her lying boyfriend, but at herself for having been so stupid as to trust a man.

Jessie gave Eddy a light pat on the head. “Don’t be silly! That time is over. I can take care of myself, I don’t need male support for that. I’m a big girl, I make my own dough, and I keep my head above water pretty well. No, not a chance, I’ve sworn off flirting.” Nevertheless, she caught herself as her gaze wandered to the young man in the corner. “Oh yes, this time is definitely over,” Eddy smirked.

“Jessie, could you bring us a side of fries, please?” Misty’s order echoed throughout the hall. The twenty-year old waved her hands. She was used to speaking loudly, almost shouting, to attract guests to her daily water Pokémon show. Sometimes she walked up and down the streets of the Strip all day in the blazing hot sun, trying to win people for her underwater attraction. As an excellent student, she could have taught at any college, but she had decided early on to get into show business and make her living doing what she really loved, joined by Dewgong and Starmie. Her parents had not agreed with this decision at all, it was wasted talent, they had claimed, and had summarily turned Misty out the door. Since then, she had been struggling through life on her own, but could always count on Jess, the diner and her two best friends, Ash and Brock, young people who were also not favoured by fate.

“Temper your voice, twerp!” Jessie couldn’t help but grin. She spread the ketchup bottles around the table, hoping Ash wouldn’t spill on himself and the diner again. His constant companion Pikachu immediately hopped on his shoulder, grabbed a fry and popped it in his mouth. Ash and his Pokémon were carnies. He had trained his friend well and attracted many spectators with his performance. Most of them felt sorry for the guy and tipped generously. That’s why Ash was able to invite his friends to the diner every night, a place that gave them hope where they could experience security. They were convinced that nothing would ever disturb this idyll and that fate, for better or worse, had taken its course.

“Who’s that guy over there?” Brock wanted to know. He had barely sold chocolate and roses tonight. The others held back, but they were certain that their friend was just too pushy with women and that’s why he only collected rejections instead of green bills.

“I’ve never seen him here before. Must be from another area. I can’t tell you for the life of me why he’s wearing a suit at theses temperatures, he looks pretty pathetic to me anyways,” Jessie replied.

“Maybe his car has stalled,” Ash suggested, “and now he was forced to wander through the desert until the tasty aromas from your diner brought him back from his delirium.”

“Or,” Brock interfered, “he had to flee his own wedding because his wife is a real pain in the ass, unlike our sweet Misty,” Brock oohed at his friend. “Forget it, Brock! You and me, this will never happen!” She gave him a gentle poke.

“Enough now with your naïve speculations! Just let him enjoy his drink. We’re closing soon, so get going,” Jessie dismissed their absurd ideas with a wave of her hand, but at this point no one knew how right Brock was.

Dark thoughts hunted the young man. He knew what he would face at home if he was late. Beatings, torture, rebuke, harassment, were just a few words to describe his failed relationship. Unconsciously, he stroked his scarred arms.

“Can I get you something to eat?” Jessie pulled him out of the maelstrom of bad thoughts, of course she had noticed the wounds, but maybe he had gotten those injuries at work. The young man rummaged some coins out of his pants and let them jingle on the table. “Is that enough for a cheese sandwich?” Jessie hated small change, but she would make an exception for him. A friendly smile, a quick nod, and she passed on the order.

“Something’s wrong with this guy,” she whispered to Eddy. “He’s scarred, bruised and pays with penny coins. Possibly a vagrant.” Eddy couldn’t help but grin. “That guy’s been keeping you busy all night, Jess. What’s the matter with you? Are you getting weak?”

The young man could not overhear the conversation between the waiters, but he was sure they were talking about him. He sure made a rather frightening impression, but that was a private matter and not something you shared with a waitress in a diner.

His gaze drifted to the daily paper, which had two faces emblazoned on it: Butch and Cassidy. He had never heard of this odd couple, but according to the news, theses two were causing quite a stir and were terrifying the Strip.

“Oh, so you’ve already spotted them, those two knuckleheads! They keep the Strip in suspense, and heads roll when the taxes don’t add up,” Jessie served him the cheese sandwich and gave him a slight smile.

“Can I get you anything else?” He thanked her and took a hearty bite of his dinner.

The last half hour flew by and the remaining guests left the diner to spend the night on the Strip, as very few had a roof over their heads. Jessie set about cleaning up and Eddy checked the register.

The young man stood up and made his way towards the door. But before he left the diner, he glanced back at Jessie for a moment. A sigh escaped him. What if…?

Jessie returned his gaze and watched him go until the young man disappeared. She walked right up to his table and found a little note on the receipt.

“Thanks for treating me like a human being, James.” 

[whitherwhence]

Monstrous May Challenge, Day 6: The Lycanthrope 

Honey Bear

A werebear comes out of hibernation, the townsfolk welcome her back. Some clumsy flirting, and a little bit of soft manhandling (bearhandling?). wlw. 1428 words, somehow.

She always came down from the mountain just before mid-spring, after taking a few weeks or so to shake her winter sleep off her bones and bulk back up a little. You couldn’t miss her as she strode through town, she was tall and broad, brawny and thick as hell, friendly with literally everyone she passed, and her laugh could be heard from a block away.

Her name was Rebecca, or maybe it was Rhiannon, something with an R — but all anyone ever called her was Bear. An unoriginal nickname for a werebear, sure, but fitting. Everything about Bear seemed big; her voice, her appetite, her arms, oh god, her arms, and she took up SPACE wherever she went. She was the only one of her kind in this part of the country, and the humans of the small town she called home for most of the year were grateful for it. It wasn’t that they didn’t like her, she was very well loved and respected in the community. It’s that werebears could be a bit territorial, or so it was generally believed.

Madeline couldn’t wait to see her. This spring, she would make her move. She would! She was definitely going to do it. Whatever ‘it’ was. Ugh. How is anyone good at this? Alright. It’s cool, be cool. She would come up with something clever to say, and Bear would laugh, and then she would ask Bear to… hang out or something? Yeah. Probably. Super good plan. 

The unanimously favored queer club/tavern/bar was an absolute dive, nearly all of the bars downtown were, but it was the one everyone flocked to once winter had thawed because it had a big, comfortable patio space out back. It was also the one Bear frequented the most.

Madeline got a beer at the bar, and then made her way through the cool, dark, dingy, arcade-like interior, and through the back door to the shaded patio. Bear was on the deep bench built into the long back fence, and she was surrounded by a cluster of friends and neighbors, all chatting and laughing. It looked almost like she was holding court, if court was a group of townsfolk and a wooden table littered with half-full drinks, bar snacks, greeting cards, and small gifts — this was typical for the time of year, because everyone treated the first week of Bear’s return like it was her birthday.

“MADDIE!” a few would-be courtiers shouted out cheerfully, and someone conjured one of the well-used plastic chairs with battered metal legs for her to join them. She’d dressed carefully, it looked like everyone had, and it was so good to see them all showing off a little in the filtered afternoon sunlight.

After getting settled and saying hellos, Madeline dug her little gift out of her bag and set it on the table. “Hey, Bear,” she said, getting the woman’s attention, “I brought you something.” It was a jar of dark, rich, wildflower honey from her neighbor’s fall harvest. He always set aside a few jars for her, and this batch had been too good to keep to herself. She turned on her best wide-eyed, exaggeratedly innocent expression and aimed it at the werebear. “Bears do like honey, right?”

Thankfully, Bear laughed big and wonderful, and it sent blooming warmth from Madeline’s chest to her toes. “Well, this one does,” Bear said good-naturedly. She picked up the jar, tipped it, and watched the air bubble move down the side. She smiled at it and said, “Thanks, Maddie. Very kind of you, looks real good.” She looked back up at Madeline, and her smile softened into something really sweet. They just sat there for a moment, smiling and blinking softly at each other like a couple of goofballs. So, this was going well.

These springtime afternoons were always the nicest time to catch up with everyone. It was late enough in the day to get some good gossip, and too early for anyone to be out on the lash. The day slipped into golden early evening, Madeline switched to water, and the group filtered down to just a few friends. It got warm enough that she took off her leather jacket, and at some point Bear had rolled her sleeves up to the elbow. Those forearms. Madeline had to keep reminding herself not to sneak too many looks over at Bear, while she despaired over how to work up her courage to… what, ask her out? Seriously, why did it have to be so excruciating? But the thing was, as much as Bear caught her looking, she caught Bear looking back.

Okay, you know what? It was getting actually late now, and Madeline was starting to think maybe another day would be better. Bear had just gotten back, after all. They ran into each other all the time, no big deal. She’d just ask her all casual like, without all this build-up, yeah, that would be better, less pressure, good idea, okay, time to—

“Hey, Maddie,” Bear interrupted her spiral, thank fuck. “Help a gal out. It’s been months since I had a good look at you.” She leaned down, then grabbed one of Madeline’s chair legs and yanked, dragging it across the concrete a few feet. Suddenly they were very close, Madeline’s right knee and calf flush with Bear’s left. Bear inhaled deeply. “There, that’s better.”

“Whoa, haha,” Madeline uttered shakily. Had she just said ‘haha’ aloud? What the fuck. She blushed hard and tried harder to regain her composure. “Wait— did you just smell me?”

Bear laughed low and warm, and snuck an arm around Madeline’s shoulders. “Yeah, is that okay?” she asked, and then more seriously, “Is this okay?”

“Yeah. This is okay.” She meant it, obviously. This was amazing. Madeline was tall in her own right, or at least taller than most women she knew, but she felt tiny next to Bear. This was the closest they’d ever been to each other, and holy hell was it awesome.

“You smell nice, by the way,” Bear said, amused but sincere.

“Well, thanks? Must be my shampoo.”

Bear leaned in to get another sniff and pitched her voice down. “Mmm. Must be,” she rumbled directly into Madeline’s ear.

Because she was really going for it now, and because a hot butch woman was talking low into her ear, for fuck’s sake, Madeline shivered. But they were careening towards a cliche back and forth, and Madeline didn’t want to play. “So, this is the part where you say ‘You cold, baby? You’re trembling. How about you sit next to me here on the bench, and I’ll keep you warm.’ And I say ‘Oh thank you, Bear, you’re so big and strong’ for some reason and then I blink at you all coquettishly. Let’s skip it. Scoot over.”

There was literally no reason for Bear to scoot anywhere, as there was plenty of room next to her, but she did it anyway. “You don’t think I’m big and strong? You wound me, Maddie.”

Madeline snickered as she pressed her side into Bear’s, getting comfortable. “Of course I do, but you don’t need anyone to tell you.” Bear’s hand settled on her waist. It felt so good to be this close to her, to snuggle in her arms — well, one of her arms, rather.  

“You know— oh, dammit,” Maddie faltered and looked down at her hands to gather herself. It’s cool, this is fine. It is. Time to be brave. She looked back up at Bear. “You know. You gotta know that I like you, right? Because I do.”

Bear was looking at her softly, her eyes half-lidded and dreamy. “You do, huh?” Her hand slipped down to Madeline’s hip and she started to knead the sensitive flesh there. “That’s lucky, because I like you too. Have for a long while.”

“But I’m not fast,” Madeline blurted. Bear’s hand froze on her hip. “I don’t know if I can jump in with both feet right away, Bear. You gotta give me a little time.” She took a beat to slow herself down. She could do this. “But, um. Can I take you to dinner?” She prayed to whatever deity that she had this right, that this is how people fucking talk to each other.

Bear grinned delightedly as she slid her hand back to Madeline’s waist, and squeezed her in a reassuring half-hug. “That sounds good to me, honey,” she said. “Just tell me when.”

~~~

—————

HOW LONG IS A LONG WHILE, BEAR. TELL US. Whew, this one fought me! And then it kept getting longer! Why!!! I just wanted to write a big ol’ butch wlw werebear and write another wlw who wants to snuggle with her 😭  Do you ever feel like you know where a story starts and where it ends, but the rest of it has to be fuckin’ wrestled out of your brain? I’m pretty sure I know what was going on, which is good, like, at least in the long run. Ah well, the important thing is that it’s done and I can release it to the wild. Right? Haha right, guys? Anyway. The two challenge days I’ve done so far have been heavy on the anxious, obvious long-time crush, so, I reckon something different for the next few. ANYWAY. <3

[neon-vocalist]

day 21: having friends over: damiaaron and cadnis

Originally written October 21, 2021

"Give me your seven, thy foul weed!" shouts Aaron at Cady.

"NEVER!" she replies louder, giggling and rolling over onto her back. "Here. You get a two."

"Nooooo..."

"Children, behave." Damian nearly trips over Aaron's leg as he comes in to set a bowl of mixed nuts on the coffee table. Janis looks over at him from the couch and shakes her head at him. He gets it. There is no getting Cady and Aaron together under any sort of control.

"Yes, Daddy," Aaron replies with a smirk.

Unprepared, Damian chokes on air. "Jesus Christ, Aaron," he stammers.

"You walked right into that one," says Cady, grinning at Aaron and flopping back onto her stomach. "Here, bud. Have an eight."

Aaron groans in frustration. "Janisssss. Make your girlfriend give me a sevennnnn."

"Damiannnn," Cady mimics. "Make your boyfriend give me a oneeeeeee."

"Absolutely not," Aaron replies. Neither of them notice that Damian and Janis aren't even interacting with them- instead, they're throwing mixed nuts into each others' mouths.

"Ha! I win!" cries Cady, wriggling on the floor like a gleeful slug and throwing her cards at Aaron, who dramatically groans and smacks his cards on the ground. "In your face, Aaron."

"Ughhhh," Aaron says again.

"Rematch?" Cady asks eagerly.

"After losing to you nine times? No."

"Damiannnnn-"

"No," interrupts Damian. Janis chuckles and drags Cady, cat-style, onto the couch. "You know, you and Aaron's friendship reminds me so much of me and Damian's early days."

"Yeah?" asks Cady. "Whaddaya mean?"

"Well, you and Aaron are best friends, and me and Damie are best friends. Did we ever get around to telling you how we met? It was really similar to you guys, actually. Maybe a little more queer." Damian cracks a knowing smile.

"Oh yeah?" asks Cady.

"Yeah. You wanna tell them or should I?" asks Janis.

"I'll do it.

Back when I was first finding out I was gay- about 14 years old, I'd say- there was this gay bar club thing. It's closed now because I think someone set it on fire. Not a homophobic thing, just drunk queers. But anyway. I was absolutely in denial. I was like, not gay, nope, straight, totally, girls are hot, right, yeah, girls are sexy. The club thing was divided into lesbians and gays, right? And I go to it this one night, and am like, uh, yeah, I'm a trans girl, totally in love with girls, uhuh, yep, ladies... and somehow I got in! I'm not sure who was in charge of that and how! But I show up to this room full of lesbians and I remember my first conscious thought just being, remember, you have to think these girls are attractive. The second one was along the lines of how do I act trans and lesbian. So I go up to the first girl and go, 'hey girly, you're lookin... nice.' And she gave me a look like I was a centipede and just... turned away.

So I was like, alright, plan B. I get up and walk away from the feminine shorty, who actually looked a lot like you, Caddie, and find the most butch-looking lesbian I can find."

"Which happened to be me," inserts Janis.

"Yep, it was Janis, 13 years old and angsty as hell. She was aggressively kissing some pink-haired chick in a powder blue maid costume, and when she saw me, I will never forget, literally shoved her away from her, against a wall, and grabbed me and told me, you look as uncomfortable as I am.

I was like, uh yeah, no duh, butch babe. Here I am, 14 years old and gay as absolute hell, in a sea of lesbians, one of which just rejected me. And she goes, pinky over there is a crappy kisser, and points at the poor little highlighter-haired child who got quite literally thrown at the wall. And grabs my arm and yanks me to a corner and gives me a spare fake ID? And is like the picture looks nothing like you but go get me a beer. And what do you do when a scary goth gay tells you to get her a beer?"

"You get her a damn beer," supplies Janis.

"Exactly, you get her a beer! So I go and I get her a beer and I'm not even asked for my ID, no idea how because I'm seven years younger than I should be, but alright. And I give her the beer and she takes a single sip, tips the rest over my head, and I guess that deems me worthy because she asks if I want to date her.

I'm like, whoa, okay! So I stammer over some words and I'm more scared than in love, because I'm actually not in love at all, it's like 99.9 percent fear and 0.1 percent confused gay boy, but I agree to go out with her. And she kisses me and is like, you're a worse kisser than pinky. And gives me her number and walks away."

"Now, let me intervene," says Janis. "I was thirteen and, I swear to God, went into that gay place with the intent of intimidating as many idiots as possible. Of course Damie here did not pass one bit for a trans girl, but he was very scared, and seemed very lost, so naturally, I gave the girl I was making out with a concussion and adopted him.

We dated for six months and I dumped him on our six-month anniversary. You wanna know what he said to me? He said, and I quote-"

"Thank God! I'm so gay and it's not for you!" Damian and Janis recite in unison.

"Yeah. And I was like, well alright, me neither! And then it turned out we were going to the same high school the next year. We spent freshman year hating each other with a capital everything. We had a rivalry to... well, to rival that of Cain and Abel. God and Lucifer. Batman and the Joker. Any iconic duo, you name it, we had it. And then..."

"We became partners on a year-long project sophomore year," says Damian, grinning at Janis. "And we became thick as thieves. So when we saw you dating Aaron?"

"Well, let's just say I had 20 bucks on the fact that you'd have a similar origin story to us," Janis says, glancing at Cady, who's sitting on top of Aaron's back, and they're both enthralled in the story.

"And I had 20 bucks on the fact that you and this disaster lesbian would end up together by the new year."

"So we both got 20 bucks and had to give away 20 bucks."

"So we both ended up not actually gaining any money."

"Thoughts?" asks Janis, smirking down at Cady, who's watching them openmouthed, as if it's finally hit her what was going on.

"That was wild from start to finish," says Aaron. "Like, that was one rollercoaster of emotions."

"That was iconic," Cady says finally.

"Wasn't it just?" Damian asks. "So yeah. Now you know how Janis and I became friends. Wouldn't you say it's basically a wilder version of your story?"

"Pretty much, yeah. The only thing that we have and you lack was a lion costume."

[stan-joonies]

Medication

I am so so so proud of this piece of work!

You can't even remember how this stupid fight started. All you remember is coming home and going up to your room and being shocked to find that Patrick had snuck into your bedroom and dug his knife into your beautiful curtains and ripped them to shreds in anger.

Unfortunately this is something you were used to. It happened more times than you could count.

You knew Patrick was bad.

Actually, he was worse than bad. He was evil, Psychotic, devilish, inhumane, selfish, sadistic and a maniac.

But you stayed.

[[MORE]]

Partly because you knew him when you were babies. Your parents were close friends and that prompted you to become close.

You loved him dearly, but you were always fearing your safety.

Since you got together, and you use that term very loosely, you lost all your friends. He isolated you from everyone. When something was Patrick's nobody could ever have it, even when he was done with it. You knew that now, after accidentally putting a boy in hospital after Patrick saw you helping him with his homework.

The isolation killed you inside. In your early teen years you always told everyone that you just wanted to be left alone, prayed to get just a few hours of 'you time'.

However, hours turned to days that turned to weeks that turned to months and would soon turn to a year.

A full year of complete isolation.

God, it killed you inside.

And now he was shouting, cursing, threatening. The knife he used to beat your curtains was still in his hand and he was thrashing it through the air dangerously.

You could feel yourself shaking and crying in absolute fear. He looked ready to murder you and you didn't even know why.

Then, the unthinkable happened.

The unimaginable.

The unforgivable.

His hand came down on you, thankfully the one free of the knife, and slapped you against your cheek.

The impact made you fly into the wall you were backed up into and tumble to the floor.

The air had stilled as you stared at the carpet, your eyes wide open in disbelief.

The tears came down quicker and stronger now, the echoing sting in your cheek prompting them.

You tried to lift yourself up but you immediately came crashing down to the floor.

You looked up, astonished to see that he seemed to keep on having a go at you, ignoring his previous actions in favour of getting in your face. You were thankful that all you could hear was a shrill ringing.

Then, your door was kicked down and the large silhouette of your brother bounded in and tackled Patrick to the ground in a flurry of punches.

Patrick was threatening, his threats were real and he had a dark sense of humour. But he was not the strongest. He was strong, but many people in the school could take him on physically.

So your brother easily knocked him out.

Then, once he was sure he wouldn't be waking up for awhile, he checked on you. His eyes held a passionate fire and he mumbled something you couldn't hear.

-

You would never have thought you'd be here...court.

Patrick was awaiting the virdict, and you sat back on the opposite side of the room with not only your parents but his aswell.

There were shocking revelations on both sides that seemed to shake Derry to it's core.

A sick part of you wanted to go to his side, defend him and help him. Forgive that action and go on with your lives.

But you were worth more than that...so much more.

So when the jury came out and told the judge their virdict and the judge took his seat , you straightened your back and readied yourself.

-

You couldn't help but shake in your shoes.

Conflicting emotions shoved at eachother in your stomach.

He was being locked away...but not in prison. He had confessed about his fridge, his brother, his...insanity.

So he was being sent away for medical help for a couple years.

People assured you that he'd get his punishment, but with his medical history there wasn't much they could do.

You felt...nothing.

You were...glad? Glad he was getting help?

You were...angry? Angry that you did not get the justice you felt you deserved?

Those conflicting emotions seemed to level you out.

But now you just felt empty.

-

Four years.

Four years you hadn't seen him and then here you are.

In a shopping mall of all places.

He changed, his hair was now cropped and he had a little shadow on his top lip. He was bulkier, and that chilled you slightly. He wore a button up shirt and dark blue jeans.

You just stared at eachother in disbelief.

"Patrick?" You questioned, taking your hands off the item you reached for.

"Y/N..." he sighed.

Silence over took them again.

"Babe?"

You turned, smiling shakily at the man who called you.

"Just a minute!" You turned back, watching Patrick tense up while looking at your boyfriend's retreating back. You immediately became self aware. Images of him following you to your car or chasing after your boyfriend and pumelling his face in.

He let out a deep breath before smiling shakily.

"Y'know i actually planned to reach out and ask you out for some coffee...not as a date but a catch up and...to apologise." He looked at you, his eyes shaking. "You see, back when...that happened i didn't apologise and i just laughed. I recently kept thinking about it and was going to ask my psychiatrist if it was sensible to do. Then i realised that the day i kept thinking about it was the day i was sentenced. It was crazy really. But i decided i had to apologise face to face. And if you didn't feel comfortable then i would do it under supervision with something between us. But here you are and it kind of ruins it." He laughed tightly.

You stared in astonishment. This man...he looked so much like him but acted so different. Then you laughed in your head...of course he acted different. He spent four years in a ward. That changes people.

"How are you?" You asked quietly, hiding the hand behind your back to mask the shaking.

"I-i'm good. I've got a long way to go and I'm on medication for life. But i feel better. Freer. I'm still on a tight leash, relapses can happen and i can falter slightly but I'm...Im good, you?"

"I-i'm ok,"

"I..uh...i actually heard that Henry was sent to prison wasn't he?"

"He actually went into an insane asylum. He killed his dad Butch and the missing kids."

Patrick hummed almost dismissively and mumbled under his breath.

"Anyway," you smiled shakily. "I need to get back to my car,"

"Oh! Yeah, of course! It was great to see you again..."

You smiled and began walking away.

You felt slightly melancholy. This felt like closing a chapter of a book that you'd eventually loose and never find again.

This felt like a goodbye, an ending.

One of those ending that is the best outcome for all characters involved but not quite satisfying for the reader.

But you weren't the author of this particular book ...

[dinopant]

Yknow i shit on fo3 a LOT (rightfully so to be fair is a fucking mess) but its still my favirote fallout game

So a shout out to the thing in the game that I DO like

Lone wanderers dad is a good man i like him a lot

The lone wanderers story is very cool i genuinely like it a lot, its not as intertwined with all of the world like the couriers is but its simple connection tk your dad who was is very neat. This story of legacy and sacrifice

The lyon pride, while I still have complaints about how this group was like executed in the game i think it has a lot of potential! I think something very interesting could have come from it if fo3 didn't feel so half done. AND i think fo4 with is BoS leg humpy behavior they rEALLY could have pulled from fo3 story but they don't and it feels so week I have so much to say in how they could have done the BoS in fo4 but that's a long rant for another day

Elder lyons and Sarah Lyons while still have the same general issues I have this the pride I still like them and think their cool

Star paladin!! My fuckin God mother who none of the fandom even tries to remember exist??? The only time I see people remembering she exist is to fuckin whitewash her and make her young and sexy for mods >:(

Sierra petrovita! What a fucking gem, a crazy queen I love her and her nuka cola aesthetic she knows what she likes!

Buttercup the first bi girl to ever exist i love her

Red from big town also i love her that is my friend

The family, they were dumb and coulsa been way cooler buT the fact there sure were a cult of people who clearly gained health from drinking blood living in the sewers is very very funny. Just some fucking vampires in the sewers

The metro, I know the trains suck to navigate but you KNOW while your down their its just kinda cozy and fun to be down there

Charon, yes another thing of fo3 that feels like it just isn't finished and could be more but I do know we all love Charon

In general all of the underworld was very neat and characters in there like charon, snowflake and gobs moms! Love it

Gob!! Once again its a place in the game that feels like it could flesh out more but :/ guess ill die!

The republic of Dave, fuck Dave im the king of his fyckin funny civilization

That one randomly spawning group of hockey players who basically had diamond city's idea of baseball being a blood sport but for hockey which, very funny orginal kings

Butch deloria, he is very funny and I love him very much. Absolutly all I love, goofy grease who's gang consist of like 2-3 people and their all cowards. Also butch is the only companion in the game it feels like you sorta actually have companion quest with.

Point lookout, I think that dlc is VERY fun. I like the feel of it and it has neat stuff. Plus the cult shit which let's you do stuff in the dlc area AND in the main game area.

Mother ship zeta dlc was boring as shit BUT very specifically the abominations scream pointing at me very funny. Very funny alien abduction. But beside that kinda not a good dlc

The pitts, while again ough problems. Playing as a good person and getting to absolutly kill the shit outta the slavers and take their baby and baby is yours now is very fun. Ans those funny horrible creatures running around while you collect iron

I personally find it funny that the timeline decided that the lone wanderer did all of their shit in a years time. Just seems funny compared to the other main characters who like the sole, spends years looking for their son. And the lone wanderer restore project purity and the distribution of clean water to the wasteland

The antagonist and mechanist started in f3 and are so funny like? Their just?? Fuckin weirdos ruining everyone's day and have?? Super powers (ar least one of them?) Like?? Their just making today bad for local citizens as they fucking best the shit out of each other with robots and ants?

The Harkness quest was so neat and was literally this bridge into the fo4 story yet the institution is literally nothing AND they don't bring up hid nor hair of Harkness??? WhY isn't he mentioned in any way??? Anyways I love harkness thats my friend

All of little lamplight and big town. Little lamplight are my children I care about them their all terrible and have cute names dogs. And big town fuckin makes me so sad those are my friends

Your cute lil house in Megatron that you get to customize (barely and i wish their was better options but still)

Deputy slimm is a friend

MORIA BROWN my friend and crazy aunt moria brown? I love her very much

AHHHA I ALMOST FORGOT THREE DOG. Literally one of the best parts of the games, hes the best radio host! And yall sleep on him! I honestly love him more that mr. New Vegas tbh,,, he's just so good and im always sad thinkin about how his voice actor was wanting to return to the role for fo4 but they diiidnt like cowards

Theres other things im sure but these are like top of my head favirote fo3 shit

[lstories]

Timor and Cole

No Fear story (part 3)(soft, safe, vore, fearplay)

Butch, Brock, and Brutes' POV:

The three grabbed their bikes and started to ride off leaving their beaten victim to whatever fate had planned for them. They laughed at what happened and started to plan on what to do to the other's. Butch and Brutes laughed at Cole and everything that happened but Brock couldn't stop thinking of the forest. Something was off about it, the branches falling and the scratches in the trees. There's too much to think about, there was so much horror and (TONK!). A rock was thrown and hit Brock on the head and he fell off his bike. "Hey, what's going on were making a plan here and you haven't said anything" Butch said, him and Brutes were sitting on their bikes and laughing at Brock. "I was just thinking" Brock said rubbing the part of his head that was hit. "What, are you regretting what we did" Brutes said "No. I was thinking of the forest. There was deffenetly something big in there." Brock said, his eyes starting to fill with tears from the pain. "Oh so now your afraid of the dark, big monster's deep in the forest come to eat ya. Let's go check it out, there's an opening nearby if we head back to the edge of the forest." Brutes said laughing and starting to ride off with Butch.

Brock had to fallow for a few reasons but most importantly is that when he's friends with them he won't get hurt by them, at least not as much as Cole. They kept riding but had to go at a slower pace due to Brock having a head injury made by them. As they rounded the final corner the forest loomed over them. Needless were already falling on them and Brock started to shake in fear and Butch started cracking some jokes to cheer him up. All three of them started to laugh and make jokes but they saw the opening to the edge of the forest and looked in. The darkness seemed to consume all the light but it looked like there was things moving under the cover of darkness. They parked there bikes on a nearby fence and started to walk over to the large opening. Brutes tried to convince Brock and Butch to go into the forest with him but the denied and made excuses to not go in. While they were arguing, they started to hear screaming from the forest. Soon, running from the darkness of the forest was... Cole? How did he get this far out... and what could scare him? Cole was never scared by anyone or anything and if something in that forest was scaring him than it had to be world endingly scary they all thought. Cole almost made it out before tripping on something and falling to the ground, immediately spinning around onto his back and crawling away. Then they saw it, a dragon slowly walked out of the darkness towards Cole.

The dragons scales started to gleam as it walked out of the shadow's and into the moonlight. It showed it's teeth, getting ready to kill. The dragon pinned Cole to the ground slightly growling. Cole couldn't breath, gasping for any breath of air while his entire chest was being crushed. All three of them were stunned at what there were seeing too frightened to move. Brock wanted to run over and help Cole but he didn't want the wrath of the dragon to fall upon him. He tried to move his feet to start running back to his bike but he couldn't even move his head to look away. Cole started to scream as he was picked up by the dragon and was thrown into the air. The dragon opened its maw as Cole fell directly in screaming and flailing all the way down. Cole was still screaming and pleading in the dragons mouth and when it closed its mouth, it all stoped. It was quiet again. With one wet gulp the dragon swallowed Cole, down the small lump in its neck went. Fear filled every part of their bodies but all they could do was stare at the dragon. The dragons eyes were glowing in the darkness looking up then its eyes settled on them. The dragons head slowly turned never taking its eyes off them. Its scales stated to shake and soon the dragon was invisible. A loud thud was audible but none of them could tell from where and a deep voice it spoke "RUN" The invisible dragon shouted at them. Screaming they ran to there bikes and rode off and around the corner. They rode for almost 10 minutes, Butch and Brock following after Brutes.

"What do we do. What's going to happen" Butch and Brock asked Brutes. All of them were out of breath from riding so hard for so long. Brutes had no answer's, his body was still shaking and he swore he felt cold. "d-dragon" he whispered "what?" Butch and Brock said trying to figure out what to do. "We have to tell everyone about the dragon in the forest. It killed Cole, we have to warn them!" Bruted said with panic and fear in his voice. "Tell who, no one's going to believe us" Butch said with fear lingering in his voice. "His dad's the chief of police, when his son goes missing he'll have to put out a missing persons report and he might believe us." Brutes said contemplating what to do next. "Why don't we go and tell him now?" Brock asked, confused as to why he they didn't just tell them. "You remember what happened last time we went to the chiefs house at night. We're getting back at him by messing with Cole. We have to tell him in the morning." Brutes said fear still taking hold of his mind. "I'll meet you guys there tomorrow" Butch said. They started to ride back to their homes, but no one saw the shadow falloing brock.

Timor and Coles POV:

Timor was having the time of his life. Sprawled out on soft grass and full of food and fear. Timor never needed more food than a few apples a week and having that much food in his stomach with a new clear mind felt amazing. He had only needed to feed off fear every so often, it just depended on the type of fear and how much he ate before he needed to feed again. Three kids with pure, raw, untapped fear was the best thing he'd ever fed on. Cole couldn't stop celebrating in Timor's gut. "DID YOU SEE THEIR FACES! PRICELESS! I COULD HEAR THEM IN HERE! THEY SCREAMD SO LOUD!" Cole was practically bouncing off the walls of Timors stomach as Timor tried to hold him in place. "Stop moving Cole or I'm going to swallow some dirt." Timor said, tired and exasperated. Cole couldn't stop moving around he was just to excited to see what they would do. It hurt Timor a bit that Cole was moving around so much but it didn't exactly feel bad.

"Is there anything I could do to make you stop moving around so much?" Timor begged as Cole practically jumped in Timor's stomach. "Ummm... you said your family were the dragons of emotions. Tell some stories of them." Cole asked finally settling down and resting against Timor's stomach walls. "All right fine. You know I'm the dragon of fear, my siblings are the rest of the emotions. My grandfather used to be all the emotions ruling over the world's as some sort of God or something. He had his minions as a way to keep the emotions of the world's in perfect balance and when he died he gave me and all my siblings one of his emotional armies and responsibilities. I was given his fear of course and his demons to help. I don't want to stop them or distract them so I let them stay in their own world. They are sentient after all and there job is to keep fear in the world. It's what they feed off of too so it's not like they can't keep fear in the world if they want to live. I want to help them but honestly I don't know if I can so I let them make their own story's." Timor said a little bored and tired. "So your demons scare people so that the world doesn't run out of fear. They don't sound very nice." Cole said with a bit of sadness in his voice. "Their a bunch of cuties. Their your monster under your bed, in the closet, on the darkest part of your chair, the shadows in a perfectly lit room. If they wanted to hurt someone they could but they don't, they just need to make fear. Their not bad, it's just what they were made to do. Sometimes one finds someone so helpless, starving and lost in a forest or stuck in an abusive family. They sometimes try to help humans instead of scaring them" Timor said trying to keep his mind off sleeping.

"So what would happen if the world did run out of fear?" Cole asked starting to nod off to sleep. "Dont know, it's never happened before because none of my families armys have ever stopped spreading any emotion" Timor said on the verge of passing out. "Where is your home I, must take you back now." Timor started to sit up, his hands nearly slipped on his wings. "Auctly... umm... I was wondering if I could stay here for the night." Cole asked sheepishly. "You... want to sleep in my stomach..." Timor said a bit confused. It felt amazing to have Cole in his stomach and he was already very tired. "Ya. Ok, you can stay in there for the night. I'm tired anyway" Timor said flopping onto his back again. "Thanks, I was getting tired too" Cole said, his eyes getting heavy. It didn't take long for both of them to fall asleep. "sleeping inside a dragon. Not how I thought this Friday would go." Cole thought, Timors heartbeat slowly lulling Cole to sleep.

End of the no fear story.

[thewritingstar]

Until My Heart Stops Racing

Pairing: Mitch x Mike (or Bitch as I like to call them, ya know cause Believe x Mitch.....nvm lol) 

Fandom: The Powerpuff Girls 

Note: This was a commission for the wonderful @lisathefan who gave me the cutest prompt and I know she loves her crack ships. I hope you enjoy my dear and thanks to my beta, Faxx for helping me! 

Word count: 5538

---

The car whipped into the parking space, dirt flying around us and I felt my heart rate finally go back to its normal beating. I looked over to Butch who had a goofy grin and ignoring everything he just did.

“Butch your driving is terrible. Now I get why you fly everywhere.” I groaned as I finally got out of the car. “I swear if Brick saw how you drove this thing... actually I don’t want to think about it.” I thought that speeding was illegal but apparently if the cops can’t even see your car, it's a free pass. And being in touch with the puffs might be a bonus we all have.

Butch let out a laugh before locking the car. “Relaxe Mike, what Brick doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” He shrugged and sometimes I wondered how he could even say that. Brick could kill someone with just a glance but when you are a superhuman, and his brother, maybe the effect doesn’t work.

Maybe I should ask Blossom about that.

The beeping of other cars brought me out of my trance as I followed him on the dirt path.

“Anyways, why did you drag me all the way out here?” I turned to see the lights and the signs. “The fair?”

In front of me was the entrance to what could only be deemed as a somehow legal way to make people shell out three hundred dollars on cheap food and even cheaper ride systems. Every kid wanted to go to the fair and, yeah, it was fun when you were five, but now that we had just graduated high school, it seemed more dangerous than fun.

“Yeah, why not?”

I glanced at him and he only smiled widely but something in his eyes had mischief written all over it. “What's the deal?”

He sighed and smirked.

“A little birdy told me you got heart eyes for a certain someone.” Butch threw his arm around my shoulder. “And as the king of romance, I’m gonna help you out.”

Theres always a small tinge of fear whenever Butch gets an idea. It either ends badly where someone gets hurt, usually him or bad in the way that we all get in trouble and the notorious Powerpuff Girls have to get us out of it. But this...this was much worse.

“Butch, what did you do?” I said through gritted teeth. He only laughed at me instead of answering and pushed up towards the gates.

“Relax. Look they are here.” He pointed.

I followed his sight and walking up towards us was Buttercup, Robin and Mitch. Butch let out another laugh, probably because he could hear my heartbeat. Fuck superhearing. Of course Robin opened her mouth. You tell a girl while you’re throwing up that you have the biggest crush on your best friend who wears dark leather, has piercings and makes your heart swoon and think that she can keep her mouth shut. But no, she can’t.

“Hey guys.” Butch waves to him before leaving me to wrap his arms around Buttercup and ignore the public by kissing her square on the lips. PDA is always gross unless you’re the one doing it, so I can’t blame them. Also it's funny to watch her smack his arm.

“Sup Mikey.” Robin smiles smugly. Little demon.

“Hey. Hi Mitch.” He gives me a wave and a nod of the head and I have to mentally tell myself not to blush. Stupid hormons.

“Come on you two.” Robin says and grabs my arm and Mitch’s and forces us towards the carnival’s entrance. “Lets go!”

One of the perks to being besties with the puffs is the mass amount of freebies. Buttercup swiftly pulled out a ticket for each of us and handed it to the ticket collector.

“Sweet, free entrance.” Mitch smiled at me and held up his hand for a fist bump.

I gladly returned the gesture and every time I did so, I wondered if he could feel the electric spark between us. God, I need to stop reading romance novels.

“Alright losers. We’ll see you all later tonight, meet up for fireworks at 9?” Buttercup said and apparently everyone already had a plan that I was not aware of.

“Sounds good to me!” Butch smirked. “BC and I are going to do coupley stuff no one wants to see and Robin said something about henna soooooo.” He looked at me. “Guess Mitchy boy and Mikey are on their own.” I didn’t miss his wink and before I could protest, everyone was walking away.

My mind was now racing as I tried to comprehend what was happening. I realized in this moment that the group had ganged up on us, well specifically me. Mitch probably didn’t even think twice as the group broke up but they were out of their minds if they thought something was going to happen.

“Wanna hit the rides?” He asked.

I take a breath before nodding. We turn into the direction of the ride area and I have to remind myself that he is just a friend. A friend. Nothing more, nothing less. I usually have my emotions in check but for some reason, they want to act up now. All I have to do is get through tonight without embarrassing myself or giving Butch the satisfation of him being the king of romance. As if that were possible.

The area is buzzing with so much energy. There’s little kids whining and screams coming from the various rides. The smells of corn dogs, popcorn and, oddly enough, waffles mixed in the air and I can’t tell if it smells good or not but I know my pockets are gonna be much lighter by the end of the night.

We get into the shortest line for the tickets and it's truly a scam that each ride is a separate cost.

“I don’t feel like dying tonight so I think two rides is good for me.” Mitch says and I laugh a little because it's true. Just watching the swings makes me feel like one of them unhinge and plummet to the ground but that's what I get for being a paranoid person.

“I feel you. How about the rollercoaster and ummm... the spinning ride?” I suggest.

“Sounds good to me.” He smiles and god fucking dammit, those damn dimples.

The line moves as we chat about the newest horror movie coming into theaters and how Mitch saw a certain pair of redheads making out in a car.

“Wait for real?”

“I swear to god dude.” He raised his hand. “Unless some other chick wears a big ass bow, it has to be them.”

“Interesting.” I smile and soon we get called next.

“Hi there boys, how many tickets can I get ya?” the older woman asks.

“Ten.” Mitch says and I reach into my pocket to grab my wallet, that may or may not have a photo of all of our friends and definitely not for the reason that I can see his face at any given time, but Mitch stops me and places the cash in the tin. “I got it.” he says casually and something inside me felt all warm and fuzzy as the row of blue tickets was handed to him.

“Have a nice date night.” The woman says as we walk away and I almost do a double take thinking I heard her wrong. But when I look over to Mitch, he seems unaffected by the words so I just let it slide.

The rollercoaster isn’t as grand or cool as the ones at the theme park, it doesn’t even go upside down but it has a good bit of hills and bumps to give some air time so i guess it will do. The only problem is that these workers don’t care and make Mitch and I sit in the same cart as these two younger kids.

After we get the bars onto us, the ride starts to go. In front of us the girl grabs the boy's arm and I give a small eye roll as we start to climb the lift hill.

“Babe I'm scared.” She cries and he wraps an arm around her shoulders and I’ve never been so jealous of middle schoolers before.

“These carts are so damn small.” Mitch complains. And it's true. The two of us squished in this together leaves no space for our arms. The pressure of our shoulders touching isn’t too bad but it's to the point it almost hurts. “Hold on.” He says and I feel him pull his right arm away from mine and throw it behind us. “Sorry this is better.”

“No, it's cool bro.” I say even though I realize that this boy really just made it ten times harder to breath now.

I can barely grasp my surroundings as the rollercoaster takes its first turn before the drop. I can see the ending of the track as we go down but the only thing my brain is processing is the fingers tightening on my shoulder.

“Holy shit.” I mumble hoping that Mitch doesn’t know how he's affecting me.

We let out screams and shouts as we go up and down, flying around on the track and I try to enjoy myself, I really do. Before long, it's over and Mitch reaches his hand out to help me up and I take it with silence.

“That was fun.” He smiles and I am really happy he ignored his moms protests and got that lip piercing. It suits him.

“Yeah.” Is all I can muster and he gives me a look before walking towards the next ride.

Luckily as we enter this ride, there’s more room. Only our knees touch as we buckle in the seatbelt and I feel myself being able to breathe better.

“Good thing we didn’t eat before getting on here.” I laugh as the lights start to flash.

He snorts and nods. “Robin would have blown chunks either way.”

The ride is a simple circular track with small hills. All it does is follow the path and goes around pretty fast. Simple but a classic. The music begins and soon we feel the cart shift. I'm sitting on the right while Mitch is on the left, next to the exit and he wiggles off his black beanie just for good measure. His light brown hair, slightly damaged from dying it black back in freshman year, is ruffled from hat hair and my god is it cute.

“Fucking love this ride.” Mitch smiles and it begins to pick up the pace.

Soon, we are at full speed, which is fine. Perfectly fine. Except for the fact that the gravity from the ride is pulling me towards Mitch and no matter how tight I hold on, I end up smacked against him. Shoulders touching and I can clearly smell his cologne. It's the scent of sandalwood and campfire and my god does it smell heavenly. Men just smell like nature and I am more than okay with that.

But Mitch doesn’t mind, because why would he? Instead he's laughing and truly enjoying the ride. I smile and laugh too because honestly, it's just fun to spend time with him. The ride is over faster than I wanted and we hop off, slightly dizzy and I walk a little out of line but he catches my arm and pulls me to him.

“Easy dude.” He chuckles and I nudge him playfully and ruffle his hair before he plops on his beanie. Goodbye cute hat hair.

All of a sudden, my shoulder is hit. It was a pretty hard smack and my body jolted to the side as Mitch grabbed me from falling.

“Look a bunch of homos.” I look up and realize that it's some assholes from our school.

Duke Jones and Mark Dalton. Some of the few people who actually try to be douchebags on the regular.

My eyes do heavy eye rolls and I want to scream at them but I've never been a confronting person. My voice is in my throat but Mitch takes a step forward, his hand never leaving my arm.

“And what of it? Really dudes? You think some lame insult is gonna hurt our feelings. You’re lucky I don’t just kick your ass, better enough I can call Buttercup in a second and have your bodies all the way across this place. Grow the fuck up and maybe don’t choke on your toxic masculanity.” He sneered and sometimes I forget that Mitch can be pretty intimidating.

Their eyes widened as Mitch pulled out his phone to show BC’s number. They mutter something before turning and rushing off in a hurry.

“You okay?” He asks me.

“Yeah.” I say. “Sorry you got caught in that.”

“It's not a big deal.”

But it is. It's not a secret that I'm out and proud. Yeah its cool and all to not have to be closeted, even Princess came out last year so its nice to know that someone higher up won’t pick on me, but even then, it sucks. No matter where I go in life, someone will be there with a flame thrower of slurs or anger for something I didn’t choose. As for Mitch, theres something about him being called gay and him not having a hissy fit about it that makes me feel safe. Uhh fuck.

I take a second to recollect myself and Mitch just pulls me from the herds of eyes that saw that fiasco.

“Lets go here.” He points to the hall of mirrors and for some reason it's beginning to get extremely hard to be around him.

But I take a deep breath and push those feelings to the side once again.

--

The hall of mirrors was by far the lamest thing the fair could have done. Sure, as a little kid it was cool and slightly scary but now, all of our heads could see just above the tips of the mirrors making it lose the effect. It probably would have been more fun if the others were there. Butch would hide behind the mirros trying to scare us before Buttercup sent some lasers his way causing them to bounce everywhere and making us duck and cover. Good times. However, it was just Mitch and me.

While Mitch was walking, I couldn’t stop thinking about those jerks just now. Of course everyone already knew about my preference but Mitch seemed unbothered by being referred to as gay. Probably because he's not some asshole that thinks it's a bad thing, I mean if he did, why would he be friends with me for all this time? He’s just a good person, that's all.

Not to sound like the coming of age kid, but I knew I was into dudes before I could comprehend the idea of love or romance, I just thought they were pretty to look at. Moving to a new city at such a young age was hard for me, not to mention the whole invisible friend that tried to kill everyone. But after everything was said and done, I did in fact make some friends.

The famous superheroes had become my pals and when Buttercup introduced me to Mitch, I think that's when it all went downhill. We became the dynamic duo and everyone always paired us as the best friends, which is true but...it makes me feel guilty.

He turned a corner and I stopped walking. All of a sudden I was lost and staring at a mirror. Just me in my beat up sneakers and the uncertain face I seem to be wearing a lot lately. There's always a time in your life where you stop and contemplate everything, question all your decisions and how nothing truly matters.

“Hey you stopped walking?” Mitch said to me and I looked at him with a shaky smile.

“Sorry. Lost in thought I guess.”

“Care to share?” He asked and leaned against one of the mirrors.

I laughed to myself thinking about what I could possibly say. “Yeah sure Mitch, why don’t I just tell you that I’m in love with you and how it pains me to wake up to know that you will only see me as just a friend. Why don’t I just rip out my heart and put it on a silver platter for you to squash or just confess and kiss you here, ignoring all the states and hopefully pissing off some people?”

“...What?”

My eyes shot open and my eyes met his. He looked at me with confusion and shock. His mouth hung open slightly and it took me a solid three seconds to relaize that my dumb ass had just blurted that all out.

Panic. That's all I could feel as he stared like a deer caught in headlights. I could feel myself on the verge of tears and suddenly the air was too thick as I turned and ran, not caring about the employee telling me I was going the wrong way.

Mitch’s voice echoed behind me but I couldn’t stand to turn and look towards him. To hear the pure rejection and probably the disgust. Throwing away years of friendship for some stupid feelings? What was I thinking?

After nearly hitting my head several times, I made it out and ignored the weird stares and glances people were giving me. All I wanted to do was find Butch and get out of here and hope that I can just pack up and move away for college. Maybe even change my name.

Instead I found myself pushing my way into the bathroom stall and biting my arm to stifle my sobs. I felt like my heart was about to shatter, that all my nightmares where coming true all thanks to my stupid mouth. I was a fool to think that someone like him would even consider me as something more, a complete and utter fool.

“Mike?” A voice called and of course the sneakers peaking outside the stall belonged to Butch.

“What?” I spat bitterly. “Go away.”

I barely heard his sigh. “Dude, I don’t know what happened but suddenly Buttercup saw you burst into here. Really dude, is everything fine? At least come out and talk to us. Plus it smells really bad in here and there's a line of dudes.”

There's some truth to the matter and I wiped my face and pushed open the stall with a little too much force but luckily he grabbed it and just nodded towards the exit.

Robin and Buttercup are standing outside and luckily, I don’t see Mitch.

“Wanna explain what happened?” Robin asks as she hands me a tissue from her purse.

“No. I just wanna go home.”

Buttercup looks arounds then back to me. “Where's Mitch.”

“Probably somewhere and never wants to see me again.” I mumble.

“What?” She asks and looks towards Butch then back to me.

Butch raised his brow. “Mike, did you tell him?”

“Tell him what?” Buttercup asked.

It was at that moment that Buttercup didn’t know that I was practically in love with her best friend. Maybe Robin and Butch planned this together but it didn’t matter, not anymore. I would be losing two friends after this. Great.

“Look. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t feel the same way.” My throat is dry and it hurts and there's no doubt that my face is red and flushed with tears. “I'm just gonna call my mom to come get me.”

“Come on Mike don’t go.” Robin asked and she padded my arm.

“You don’t get it, Robin.” I spat. “You don’t understand what I just did. Thanks to someone’s dumb idea, I now lost my best friend. And for what? Did we really think he would like me back? That he could even see me in such a way? I don’t even know if he’s gay or let alone into dudes. But who gives fuck? I don’t.”

Butch took a step towards me but my anger only rose. “C’mon Mike I'm sure-”

“This was a stupid idea Butch!” I yelled and at that moment I didn’t care what anyone thought. I was embarrassed and hurt. “I just want to be alone.” I pushed past him and the others, ignoring everything they were saying because it didn’t matter any more.

It didn’t matter that my friends tried to help something that shouldn’t have even been considered. It was just a stupid crush. Nothing more, nothing less. Hopefully by the new semester, it would be gone and out of my system…. hopefully. A stupid crush that I’d been harboring for years and titling on a scale of something more.

It wasn’t long until my tears dried and I found myself among the section of carnival games. All of the rigged and hard to win and if you did win, it would be a small sappy prize that you would toss into a garbage bag or try to sell for a nickel at a garage sale.

There were darts and guessing the weight of a small pig. The basketball tossing and hitting the giant hammer looked tempting but instead I walked to the game that no one had ever won. Ring toss. A game of chance and so incredibly rigged, it's a miracle if one prize is won in a year.

Without a second thought, I gave up a fresh twenty dollar bill and the girl working, who clearly hated her job, handed me the biggest bucket of rings. Enough to keep me entertained until I call my mom or muster up enough courage to ask Butch for a ride back like a dog with its tail inbetween its legs.

I thought I had it all figured out. I thought I could be okay with this. But I was stupid. Stupid to think that the boy I had a crush on, one of my best friends, would like me back, or even be into dudes for that matter. But no, instead of having my secret crush kept, ya know, a secret, the one person who shouldn’t know, did.

I tossed another ring into the sea of bottles, the high pitched clinking echoed for just a moment as another was tossed. Maybe this was pointless. Maybe trying to figure out feelings was a waste of time because in all honesty, I never knew.

Like the plastic rings people pay way too much for, you jump and you think you’ll land on that bottle, secure the prize and show everyone up. Prove that you can do the impossible.

But then you miss and reality comes back. The bucket dwindles down and soon you’re left with nothing but regret for trying and shorting eight bucks.

“Hey.”

I turned, of course he would follow me. Why wouldn’t he? He was probably here just to tell me to let it go and sweep it under the rug, and say it's not weird when it totally is. Or he was going to come out and say that maybe our friendship has come to its expiration date.

“Oh. Hey.” I threw another one, missing again.

I tried not to care as he stood next to me but I passed him the bucket and he took his own shot, missing, just like me.

“Have you been crying?” He asked and there was no way around it.

“Yep.” I popped the p and threw another ring. “Look Mitch, I’m sorry what I said-”

“Don’t be.”.

Oh

“Most guys would just push someone like me away if that happened.”

He hummed and tossed a ring, missing. “Well, I’m not like most guys and I thought that was pretty clear. Especially after those jerks. I value your friendship too much to get worried or upset.”

I looked over at him, and that in itself was a mistake, because it would be just my luck that the other carnival games with their bright flashing lights would surround him and make it seem like he was glowing. The lights soften his features, a small twinkle on the black orb of his earring and making those very so light freckles appear.

Almost like a painting hung up in a museum. You think the trip is boring, and for the most part it is. A few interesting things here and there but just as you are about to leave, you find a room you hadn’t explored. It could be nothing and you could leave, forgetting everything in the last three hours and moving on with your life.

Or it could be life changing. As if when you walked in there, the most captivating painting was on that wall and you wonder how you skipped it in the first place. You stare at it, taking in the picture itself and the meaning. Stepping closer and looking at the paint strokes, the time taken to make this is clear and it's full of questions and mystery. The small plaque on the wall fails to answer.

He picked up the last ring. It twirled in his fingertips unsure of where to go.

“I kept thinking, you know.” He said. “I remember watching a show, a random cartoon and an ad for a pride festival popped up. I thought nothing of it, didn’t know what it meant at the time but my father did. He was outraged and changed the channel, screamed and shouted saying that if his son ever was caught doing something like that…” Mitch paused and closed his palm.

I could see the hurt in his eyes as he sighed.

“Then he would have no son. So when I found out what it all meant and learned about myself....I thought it would be best to never act on it. No matter how much I wanted to look towards another guy, I couldn’t.”

“I’m sorry Mitch, I didn’t know.” And it was the truth. I wanted to mentally slap myself for not realizing that he was, in fact, gay as well. Way to go Mike, your gay-dar is broken. But then again, you can’t just tell a sexuality clear as day. I can’t blame him for hiding it, after everything with his dad.

He sighed again. “But when you told me that. Told me you wanted me, I think I started to realize that I would rather have something I want no matter what others think of me. I envy how you can just come out and be proud, as you should, but I wish I was that brave instead of a coward.”

“Mitch.” I slid my hand on top of his cautiously. He didn’t flinch or have any indication of pulling away. “I’m scared every day. Scared that someone might yell something offensive or even try to hurt me. Just like those assholes did earlier.But I can’t stop those things from happening but I can choose to not let them affect me. It's hard but you know you’re surrounded by people who care about you. Plus your best friend is an actual superhero.”

“I know, I’m sorry. You probably don’t want to date such a fuck up like me.”

Fuck up? Did this boy really think that?

“I would never see you as that.” I said honestly. “It's normal for us to have conflicting feelings when someone in our life isn't supportive. It's never gonna be a walk in the park or smooth sailing but when you're with someone who cares about you, it makes it easier.”

He sighed for the hundredth time. It was clear the gears in his mind were running at full steam and he looked at the ring in his hand then to the bottles.

“I guess you’re right Mike. I guess I was thrown off that the dude I've liked since kindergarten likes me back.” He looked towards me and tossed the ring, not bothering to pay attention. “I just hope you haven't changed you mind-”

The next thing I know, my hand is tugging on his worn leather collar and his lips are pressed to mine.

I never thought that my first kiss would be as enchanting as this. You always think it's magical and fulfilling but in reality it's probably a mess of lips that don’t move quite as well and somehow there's a tongue doing whatever it wants. I guess I can’t count this as my first kiss because Robin had peaked me on the lips in third grade, also giving me the clear sexual awakening of how I never want another woman to come near me again, but this was different.

He tasted like cotton candy which I should find gross and oddly weird but I didn’t mind one bit. At the beginning there was a bit of hesitation, or maybe he was caught off guard since I did interrupt him but I couldn’t help myself. Stupid hormones. He wasted no time kissing me back and I even felt a hand on my waist pulling towards him. Although it lasted only a few mere seconds, it was like a lifetime of waiting had lifted.

When we pulled apart, loud speakers and alarms went off above us. I looked towards the game, I noticed one single plastic ring was stuck on the bottle. The worker smiled at us before nodding.

“Wow, I can’t believe you made it, especially without looking.” She said and I looked to Mitch who just shrugged.

“What? You kissed me, I just threw it.” He smiled brightly and I hugged him.

“So what will it be?” I asked him and he turned towards the prizes.

“Well, what about that dinosaur?”

“I love dinosaurs.”

Mitch smiled. “I know.”

The worker used a ladder to climb and retrieve the massive blue dinosaur prize. As a kid, i used to dream of winning such a cool thing but know, I think I got something better. Mitch handed it to me with a blush and I looked at it with just as much pink on my cheeks.

“Ya know.” Mitch started. “I have enough tickets for one last ride. Maybe the ferris wheel?”

“That sounds good.” He reached out his hand and I took it. Before I could blink, I felt his lips press against my cheek.

“I don’t like to see you cry.” He said.

I simply hummed and we walked hand in hand to the ferris wheel before deciding to give the prize to some kids. He handed the tickets to the worker as we climbed into the cart and began to go up. He threw his arm over my shoulder like he did on the rollercoaster, but this time, I leaned against him and let those emotions I tried to keep at bay, run wild.

“I’m really glad Butch dragged me here.” I said honestly and Mitch only laughed and silenced me with his lips pressed against mine.

“Me too.”

When we pulled apart, a few questions still lingered in my mind.

“You mean, you’ve liked me this entire time? And you knew I was gay?” I asked hesitantly. It wasn’t a secret, the last part at least.

He scratched the back of his neck, a nervous tick he's had since he was little. “I mean I wasn’t hundred percent sure, I thought maybe it was a one time thing or just happened occasionally. But as we got older, more specifically high school, I think that's when it hit me.” He sighed. “All I knew was that I wanted to be with you until my heart stopped racing.”

His eyes met mine. I’ve always hated when people didn’t see the beauty in brown eyes. They think they are dull and lifeless, only one hue but that's far from the truth. Mitch’s eyes had spots of gold and a slight tint of green, breathtaking to say the least.

“I mean it’s a shame we spent our high school years just as friends.” My hand went on top of his. “But I’d rather have you as my friend instead of losing you so I understand. But what about your dad? Will be okay with us dating-or well I assume we should-”

“I don’t care about his opinion of us. Plus we would be idiots not to date at this point. If he doesn’t accept. That's his loss not mine.” His gaze went to the sky where a firework exploded.

The colors lit up in the sky and we realized we got lucky as our cart stopped at the very top. It felt unreal to be sitting next to my best friend and now, boyfriend. There's always moments in your life that you feel like were meant to be. Maybe it's the career you chose or the person you marry. Milestones that are already set in stone and fate just happens to bring you together, all that stuff. And as I looked at him through heavy lashes I thought that maybe, just maybe, the stars aligned on this one.

That or I would have to admit that Butch is the king of romance, even though he did literally nothing today and this was all me. Either way, Mikey boy’s got a man.

--

I hope you enjoyed love!!

[guardsbian]

also shout out to Andy (my best friend Andy) for basically making Cathryn a lesbian. Cathryn was introduced as Si's ex anyways but one day Andy just asked "is she a lesbian?" and I said "yea" despite not really considering it before and that's how Cathryn became my... first or second lesbian OC. I do actually think she was my first butch OC though

[vaultgirl2077]

Chapter 2 - Resfeber - Part 2

Freya quickly packed what little belongings she could into a bag and crouched down low to leave as discreetly as possible. She’d barely walked two steps out of her room when she saw the familiar face of Officer Kendall stood no more than ten feet in front of her.

“There she is! Hold it right there!” He bellowed, brandishing his baton threateningly as he took a few steps towards her.

Before Freya had a chance to even process the right way to react, three giant roaches scurried down the corridor and launched themselves at the Officer.

“Criminey! More roaches!” He shouted, almost falling over himself as he struggled to swat them off. “Filthy little monsters!”

Freya saw her opportunity and she took it. With the officer distracted and her old baseball bat secured in her hands, she cut through the bathrooms to her left and into the next corridor as quickly as she could. Survival outweighed any concern she had for Kendall's fate. He was her enemy now and wanted her dead. All the guards who had once protected her were.

As the doors opened, she was unable to take a single step further.

Just when thought that she just might have luck on her side, she came face to face with the worst person she could meet besides the security officers themselves.

“Butch! Get out of--” Freya began but her old lover and friend grabbed her by the shoulders, his eyes frantic and panicking worse than she'd ever seen.

“You gotta help me! My mom’s trapped in there with the Radroaches!”

“Sorry, Butch. I’ve got my own problems to deal with right now.” Freya looked behind her anxiously, as if Officer Kendall were about to burst through at any second and catch her.

“Please! I know I’ve always been a jerk to you. I know it!” He looked her straight in the eyes and she could see the desperation. “But you can’t walk away and let her die! Just because I was an asshole...Please...I’m begging you Frey.”

Frey...He had a nerve…

“Why do you need my help, anyway? Afraid of a few Radroaches?” Her tone was almost mocking and she regretted it instantly.

Butch let her go and glared at her, hating her for the humiliation yet it didn't make him falter. “Well...yeah, so I hate Radroaches. So what? I tried to go back in to help her, I swear I did! But I just can’t do it!” He gripped at his hair furiously and the urgency was oozing from every movement. “So I’m begging you, please help her. I..I don’t know what I’d do without my mom.”

Freya’s heart clenched.

There were the tears. The ones she hadn’t seen leak from his ice blue eyes since his father died. She knew how much Butch loved his mother, it was the same as her with her father. The only person he truly had in this world. With one more look over her shoulder, she growled in frustration and defeat.

“Fine! I’ll save your mom!” She sighed.

Butch’s face lit up, a wide smile spread across his tormented face.

“Oh my god, thank you! I didn’t know what to do. You’re the best, Frey!” As he turned on his heel to run, he grabbed her by the hand and dragged her along to his apartment.

The cries of his mother could be heard piercing through the walls as they got closer.

With her BB Gun aimed and ready. Freya charged into the bedroom where poor Ellen DeLoria was huddled on the bed while three giant roaches were flapping their wings and biting her.

Butch's mother was damn lucky Freya had been taking care of radroaches in the reactor since her tenth birthday and she was a damn pro at it by now.

Each bang of the rifle was accompanied by a roach falling limp on the floor. When all were dead, Ellen rose to her feet and tidied her hair.

“God! I could really use a drink right now.” She sighed, her eyes glassed over as her body trembled. Without acknowledging the small girl or even her son, she grabbed her bottle of liquor and headed for her chair in the living room. It was as if she had a one track mind and Freya didn’t even get a thank you.

Well, not from her at least. While exchanging her gun for her baseball bat in her bag, Freya was spun around and brought into a warm hug.

“We did it! My mom’s gonna be okay! You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Frey.” Butch cheered while squeezing her tight. Freya barely had a moment to retort before he let her go, shrugged off his signature leather jacket and handed it to her.

“Hey, I know it isn’t much, but I want you to have my Tunnel Snakes Jacket. Go ahead, take it.” He thrust the bundle of leather into her arms and Freya placed it over her bag.

“Butch I...Thank you.” Freya nodded with a smile. As she felt a rush of blood flood to her cheeks, she noticed Butch’s were bright red too.

“Hey, Freya?” Butch’s mother’s voice rang from the other room. Bursting their momentary bubble abruptly.

“Yes, Mrs DeLoria?” Freya replied politely as her and Butch came back into the room.

“Come on, sit down and have a drink with me.” She said with a tired smile, handing the bottle to the pair. Freya didn’t know what to say so she looked to Butch anxiously. In all honesty, she’d just been expecting a thank you.

“She doesn’t want a damn drink, mom!” Butch snapped furiously, shoving the bottle back at her. “Freya needs to get out of here and I’m going to help her.” With that, he grabbed her hand and dragged her into the corridor.

They’d barely made it to the communal bathroom, not ten feet away from Butch’s apartment, when the familiar sound of muttering could be heard coming towards them. Butch slammed on the entry button and pushed Freya inside, trying to act casual as Officer Kendall rounded the corner.

“Goddammit Butch, I told you to get back to your room!” He snapped furiously, holstering his baton on his belt as he approached.

“Oh, uh...Sorry, Officer. I’ll go right back inside.” Butch shrugged and took a few steps closer, out of Freya’s sight.

The bathroom door shut moments later, leaving Freya to press her head to the cold steel walls in an attempt to hear the muffled conversation.

“Okay then…” Kendall sounded skeptical and Freya held her breath as if he could somehow hear her. Her hands secured themselves around her old baseball bat, preparing for the inevitability of using it. “Hey, you haven’t seen the Doc’s kid have you? We’re still looking for her.”

Freya’s heart dropped into her stomach. Butch was a coward, he would do anything to save his own ass or come out looking better than everyone else.

She was stupid to try and help him, she should have just ran and thought of herself, of her father and Amata! It had been years since she’d meant anything to Butch. She didn’t know him at all anymore, in all honesty she didn’t even know if she would have trusted him back when she did, let alone now.

Not after that day. Not after--

“No, sir. Good luck with your search though.” Butch said confidently, a small thud made Freya jump slightly as he slouched against the other side of the wall.

“Whatever! Get back in your room!” Officer Kendall snarled, turning on his heel and stomping away in the opposite direction.

“Asshole.” Butch mumbled, barely disguised by coughs. Once the officer was out of sight, he returned to the bathroom and released the door.

There Freya stood already waiting, brown eyes wide with disbelief and her small frame shaking.

Once more Butch’s arms were around her, his hands locking at the small of her back and holding her close. Seconds later she felt him exhale in relief, the pressure of his head resting against her own.

Words were failing her, the disbelief stopping them from forming in her throat. All she could do was reciprocate the hug. For several, almost tranquil, moments they held each other, expressing the words that refused to form audibly. Telling everything that they’d waited so many years to say. As her arms snaked up around his neck and her palms sought out his cheeks, Freya locked eyes with her old lover and felt her heart catch.

“Look, Frey... I’m sorry for the way I’ve always treated you. You know I never meant any of it, right?” He laughed weakly and Freya saw the regret reflected in those cerulean pools.

She didn’t need to reply, instinct was permitted to answer for her. The way it was always allowed to take the reins when it came to Butch.

Their lips parted and reality flooded back as loudly and abruptly as the Vault alarms. Freya released herself from the embrace.

“Go and take care of your mom. I..I have to get out of here, I need to find my dad.”

Butch shook his head. “The guards have all gone mad like Kendall! You’ll never make it to the entrance without them catching you. You need help!”

“I’m not putting people I care about in danger! Amata and I have been hacking the vault terminals since we were infants. I have the keys to her dad’s office and I’ll use the vents. I-I’ll be okay.” Freya reassured with all the confidence she could muster.

Butch didn’t look convinced. “Then take me with you! I’ll back you up and--”

Freya stopped him by placing her hand to his cheek once more. “No Butch! It’s too dangerous, I don’t want to drag anyone else into this madness! It’s...I need you stay here and take care of the vault. Look after Amata and your mom and…” The tears welled up in her eyes and she backed away from him. “Just please...Keep everyone safe for me.”

[adarlingwrites]

Absolution

Summary:

noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment

The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who’s willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.

XXIV

January 10, 2278.

Hannibal Hamlin just arrived a few moments ago, after Cross did. He sees me, smiles, and shakes my hand.

“Charon. Good to see you again, friend. How is Percy treating you? Has she found a solution to your contract yet?”

“Good,” I tell him. “We’re working on it.”

“That’s good to hear.”

The back door swings open, and DeLoria arrives with the dog. Dogmeat bounds towards me, and licks my hand after I ruffled his fur.

“Yo. I’m here. Where’s Percy at?”

“She’s retrieving a few things from the house. She’ll be here soon,” I tell him. “Are you sure you weren’t followed?”

“Yeah. I had the dog with me to keep watch.”

Just a few moments later, we heard the back door opening once again. Gob exclaims something I couldn’t hear, and Percy comes into view, dragging a missile launcher with her. It’s the one we found on the first day that I started serving her.

“Sorry I’m late. Had to double check a few things. Paladin Cross, this is for you.”

DeLoria’s jaw drops at the sight of the weapon. Cross carries it with ease, and thanks my partner.

“Holy shit, Perce. Where’d you even get that?”

“Doesn’t matter. Anyway, these arrived just in time, Charon. Moira had a hard time procuring them, so let’s put them to good use,” Percy turns to me, handing me a package.

I look inside and smirk.

“As you command.”

Nodding, Percy sets the map Doc Church drew out for us on the bar top.

“Here’s the plan.”

It was near midnight when we finished our meeting.

“Let’s go home,” Percy tells me. I follow her.

After cleaning up, we went into Percy's bedroom, my bedroom now too, I suppose. I lay awake next to her that night, thinking back to the days we spent with the Abolitionists, and their influence on me.

Right after that incident with Harkness, Percy runs into an escaped slave in the city, Mei Wong. She gives Wong some caps so she can buy a weapon. Then, that’s when we learned about the Temple of the Union, and met Hamlin.

November 11, 2277.

Staying close to Percy, we walked on, accompanying Hamlin and the others to the Lincoln Memorial.

Nearly two centuries ago, my first mission occurred here. I think I was… fourteen. Or fifteen. Fuck, my memories from before the Great War are still hazy, but I know it happened. Under the orders of our contract holder then, our unit was tasked to suppress protesters gathering at the memorial.

I remember everyone’s actions.

Vanth, our sniper, did not hesitate to open fire, making rubber bullets rain on the crowd. She didn’t even aim it to the ground; she aimed at the people. Everyone followed suit, save for me who stood there, mortified. I only got moving when my electric collar went off.

Magwayen did the best she could to avoid casualties. I followed her. The others did not. At the end of the day, Mag treated the wounds on my back. Whip marks. Punishment for being too soft.

The next day, I went harder on the people. I remember the smell of tear gas. Mag became distant since then.

I’m certain that if hell exists, I would go there, regardless whether hurting all those people is my will, or not. My hands killed them. I’m a murderer.

I’d never thought I’d come back to that place and do something right for a change.

I watched as my mistress helped the Abolitionists return the statue’s head back where it belonged. Smiling, sweat pouring from her brow, Percy approaches me, and tells me to enjoy the rest of the day while she talks to Hamlin.

They talked for hours. Occasionally, Hamlin would look at me, a certain understanding in his gaze.

I brought my mind back to the present. I figured out earlier that Percy must’ve spoken to him about my contract. Heartbeat slow, Percy sleeps next to me, and I look at her unmarred face. As gently as possible, I brush a lock of stray hair from her face. This angel… she’s doing everything she can to free me from its hold, huh?

Maybe it’s time.

I think I can manage it.

If I survive tomorrow, I want to come out as a free man.

After planting a light kiss on her shoulder, I closed my eyes.

January 11, 2278.

Today’s the day.

The sun’s setting on the horizon. DeLoria walks in front of me, obviously nervous as hell. We approach Paradise Falls’ entrance, where a guard asks us to halt and state our business.

“Yo, is this a place where I can sell people? My friend gave me this piece of shit here and I don’t want anything to do with him.”

The guard looks at us with scrutiny. DeLoria looks like an absolute dick, wearing shades and a set of ill-fitting armor. Only an idiot would buy his disguise, but I guess the guard’s one after all.

Good for us.

Behind him, Percy emerges, and snaps his neck. He lands to the ground with a thud. The others approach; Hamlin and Simone from the Abolitionists, and Cross from the Brotherhood. The paladin hefts the rocket launcher, and as Simone kicks the gates open, all hell breaks loose.

Crouching, Percy disappears again, and the only thing giving her away’s the silver-white outline of her stealth field. The Abolitionists provide Cross some cover fire as she fires the missiles at the slavers.

Now, my turn.

DeLoria follows me close by, and we approach the slave pen.

“Remember the plan,” I tell him. “Watch my back as I get these gates open.”

“R-right,” DeLoria stammers, taking a steadying breath. “Shit, shit. What have I gotten myself into, man?”

“Hey. Do it for the kids.”

The younger man nods at me, bravado coming back. “Yeah! For the kids!”

As soon as I unlocked the gate, DeLoria tossed a bag at the adult slaves. “Here, protect yourselves. Run for it!” he yells.

I moved on to the next gate, where the children stayed. They huddled together, looking at me with fear. But when the gates swung open, they reluctantly approached. Next to me, Percy emerges from thin air. The kids looked at her with awe.

“Hey. Your friends from Lamplight asked us to help you. Follow the guy with the nice hair, kids. We’ll meet you outside.”

The children followed DeLoria, while the other slaves joined the fray, exacting retribution on their captors.

“Charon, you know what to do,” Percy tells me, squeezing my arm, and disappears once again.

I take out the contents of the package Percy gave me the night before.

C4 explosives.

Time to blow this place up.

I started at the clinic. An old slaver lies dead on the floor. The vault next to the cash register is already looted. Must be Percy’s doing. She’s still thorough. I placed one explosive under the desk.

After that, I went to the slaver barracks. The place is deserted, bottles lying about.

Then I heard a click of a gun behind my head.

“Hold it right there,” a familiar voice tells me. “Wait a minute, it’s you! Hah, the zombie- ugh!”

A shot resounded through the building, and the slaver’s body thumps against the floor. I look behind me, and Percy stands there, 10mm in her hand. Her stealth armor helmet pops open and she smiles at me.

“C’mon big guy, let’s get a move on.”

She watched my back as I installed another explosive, and we ran back out to face Paradise Falls’ leader.

Eulogy Jones.

I kick the door to his pad open, and he sits atop the bed, looking far too relaxed for someone whose base is being torn to shreds.

It’s almost as if he was expecting us.

Two female slaves jump at Percy and before I can save her, Eulogy Jones shoots my calf, and I kneel, groaning in pain. I can barely keep my eyes open as one of them searched Percy for my contract, and handed it to Eulogy.

No, no! Not this shit again!

“Good girl, Clover,” the slaver croons.

Then, he turns to us.

“Ah, I knew the two of you would show up here. Welcome.”

A look of horror crossed Percy’s face as she heard shouts outside. Bloodied slavers barged through the door, and one of them was grabbing DeLoria by the collar.

“Butch! Where are the others?!”

“They got away, don’t worry about- ow! That hurts!” One of them kicked the greaser.

“Not for long,” he tells the greaser. Then, he turns to my partner.

“Word travels fast in the wasteland, you know. It didn’t take long for us to figure out what you’re up to, my dear. The two of you haven’t really been subtle about it. Paradise Falls has contacts everywhere. It didn’t take much for one of them to strong-arm Church into telling us what you’re up to.”

“Bastard!” Percy spits. “What have you done with him?!”

The two women restraining her keep her down as she tries to wriggle free.

“Let’s just say that Jotun sent him into an early retirement.”

That dangerous look, the one that frightens me, is back on Percy’s face. Her mouth is pressed into a tight line, trembling in her fury.

“And you,” he turns to me. “Who would’ve thought that you’d be back here, fifteen years later, Charon? Or should I say, Artyom Volkov.”

In the corner of my eye, Percy is looking at me with uncertainty. “Artyom Volkov?”

“That’s right, Miss Zhou. That’s your bodyguard’s name, before he was brainwashed into submission. There are a lot of things that you don’t know about him. Did you know that aside from helping us acquire new merchandise in the past, he was a war criminal, before the bombs dropped 200 years ago?”

“Liar. Charon can’t even remember most of his life before that. How could you know such a thing?”

“You never bothered to learn his history? My dear, I simply asked him all those years ago. Artyom here probably locked those memories away when I sold him to Ahzrukhal. Fifteen years is a very long time and you’re bound to misplace some memories, but I suppose someone as young as you wouldn’t know.”

Percy is breathing hard, looking at me with those wet and wide eyes, and I couldn’t look at her. The entire ordeal felt like peeling gauze off a wound that didn’t quite heal, or my skin being charred by hellfire from an atom bomb.

“Charon, tell me he’s lying.”

I can’t answer her. She’s no longer holding my contract.

“Answer her, Charon,” Eulogy orders me, and I comply, bile rising to my throat.

“He’s not.”

My new master steps closer, and grabs my partner’s jaw.

“I could put you in the pen as breeding stock, like this boy here,” Eulogy said, motioning to Butch.

“But you know, you remind me of my Clover here,” he continues. “Crazy girl, and I’m an expert on crazy girls. I just know you’d be crazy in the sack too. You just need to be housebroken.”

“Fuck you,” Percy spits.

“Soon, babe, soon. Now, Charon, take Miss 101 and her friend here to their new quarters.”

I feel it, the ghost of an electric shock shooting upward to my brain again.

But I can withstand it now.

“No.”

Percy and Butch look up to me, and before the burn can incapacitate me again, I whip out my shotgun and shot Jones in the head, twice. One to kill him, another out of spite.

My shotgun clatters to the floor, and the shocked slave girls couldn’t do anything as Percy escapes their grasp and takes back my contract from Eulogy’s dead hands. 

“You disobeyed another order,” Percy gasps, looking at me with a soft look.

A piercing shriek filled the room as the girls lunged at me, but Percy shot one of them in the head. The other one who got too close, she whips with her pistol.

“Whoa! Whoa whoa whoa, Percy wait! These girls are slaves too! We can’t just shoot ‘em,” DeLoria exclaims, rushing over to the fallen girl. DeLoria attempts to help her up, but she scratches his chest, kicking and screaming, and she turns to me, manic.

“You son of a bitch! You killed daddy! You killed Mr. Eulogy, you killed him, you killed him! I hate you, you fucking shuffler!” she shrieks, like a petulant child. A deranged, petulant child.

Percy knocks her out cold. “You’re welcome to carry her, Butch, if you care so much.”

“Percy…”

Limping, I place the last C4 explosive while Percy loots the place clean. Then, she comes and wraps her arm around my waist, supporting me, holding me like she did the first time I ever got injured in her employ.

We hear heavy footsteps, and Cross comes into view, offering us a helping hand. Behind us, DeLoria carries the unconscious slave girl in his arms. I’d never thought I’d see the day when he’ll care for anyone other than himself.

I’d never thought I’d see the day that I would be free from my contract either, but here we are.

“Percy, I think I’m ready.”

My partner looks up to me, her eyes glistening in the moonlight.

“You guys go on ahead,” she tells Cross and the others. “We just have some unfinished business to attend to.”

We sit outside Eulogy’s pad, her back against my chest, and Percy fishes my contract out of her PipBoy glove. Her glasses are fogging up as it starts snowing again. I dug in my pockets, and after palming through crushed cigarette boxes, I found a lighter.

“Charon, are you sure about this?”

I nod, trembling as I hand her the lighter.

“Do it.”

I expected my skin to be set ablaze as the fire ate the edges of my contract, or for agonizing pain to shoot up my spine and kill me in an instant, but instead, I stared as my paper soul went up in flames without eliciting a single reaction.

As the paper turned to ashes, I sat with my partner in silence.

“It’s done. Charon, your contract is gone- Charon, no!”

I never noticed my hand reaching for Percy’s pistol involuntarily, aiming it to my temple, and firing.

When I opened my eyes, Percy was on top of me, breathing hard, her small hand restraining my arm in a surprising show of strength. She wrenches the pistol from me and throws it a few feet away from us, then she looks me in the eyes, her glasses slipping off of her face and landing on my chest.

I can feel her breath on my lips.

Burying her face in my chest, a sob wracked her body. I held her as tight as I could.

“C’mon, let’s send this place to hell.”

Reunited with our companions, I hand Percy the detonator.

Paradise Falls is no more.

[eeveevie]

fresh start

Rosie returns to Rivet City on an errand and finds a familiar face loitering in the Muddy Rudder. Butch is the last person she wants to see, and is the last person she wants to talk to about the recent traumas she’s faced. Homesick and longing for companionship, she agrees to bring him along--but first, the two have a long list of differences to hash out. 

Unprompted, but something I’ve been meaning to do. Back tracking in the timeline I’ve been setting up in their one-shots, but hey, I tend to do that anyways. 

Side note: This is my 100th individual story posted on Ao3!!! 

Butch DeLoria x Rosie Sheridan (Lone Wanderer)

3551 words | [read on Ao3] 

Rosie could measure her entire life in days. If she could reference her meticulously kept journals, she would narrow events down even further by the hour, by the minute. Even without the Pip-Boy on her wrist that showed her the date, she had a running clock in her head, constantly reminding her of the passage of time.

A hundred days ago, she celebrated her nineteenth birthday. Thirty-five days later, she left Vault 101 in search for her father. It had been forty days since he sacrificed himself at Project Purity, forty days since she had begun her search for the G.E.C.K. Twenty days ago, she returned to Vault 101 and resolved the infighting, only to be told by Amata to never return.

It was all documented, perfectly outlined in the notebooks she carried in her pack—but she had memorized the dates, the events so engrained in her mind she would carry them with her until the day she died. One day at a time—she reminded herself like a prayer, the best coping mechanism she had while traversing the Capital Wasteland alone.

That day, she had returned to Rivet City after spending time at the Citadel, agreeing to pick up the last of Doctor Li’s scientific research notes. Rosie intended to perform a few other errands while she visited the permanently docked ship, remembering she hadn’t quite gotten around to narrowing down the city’s true history for Moira and her Wasteland Survival Guide. As she crossed over the expansive bridge, she glanced west to see the Jefferson Memorial on the horizon and paused, overcome with thoughts of her father and what could’ve been. But she didn’t have time to mourn—not then, not now.

Harkness was the only one to formally welcome her as she entered the marketplace, the other merchants too busy with their idle conversations to notice her. Rosie greeted the guard with a smile and noted the way his eyes flicked to the weapon slung over her shoulder. It was the plasma rifle he had gifted her, and she had been careful to keep it in the pristine condition it was in when he first handed it over. Having access to the Brotherhood’s quartermaster helped, but it wasn’t always easy.

“How are you?” he asked.

She considered his question, wondering if he realized how loaded it was. If she answered honestly, it would do nothing but drag the mood down and they were hardly friendly enough for her to become a sobbing, uncontrollable mess. Instead, she steadied her breath and gave a little nod. “I’m well.”

“What brings you back to Rivet City?” Harkness’ nature was to interrogate, so it wasn’t surprising he was prepared with a list of questions for her.

“Science Lab, to pick up more of Doctor Li’s belongings,” she answered. “If Seagrave has the time, I would like it if he can look at my Pip-Boy. There’s something wrong with it.”

Ever since her father filled the monument’s rotunda with radiation, the screens had been half-static, making travel complicated. The scientists at the Brotherhood had tampered with it for all of five minutes before telling her to find somebody with better knowledge of Vault technology—the Rivet City tinkerer was her next best bet.  

Harkness’s eyebrows perked up. “You know, a few days ago, a kid with a Pip-Boy just like that showed up here. Said he was from Vault 101, just like you.”

Rosie’s chest tightened at the implication—Amata had promised to open the vault doors so the inhabitants could trade, but she hadn’t expected it to be so soon. She wondered who would have traveled so far in a short amount of time and briefly, she grew excited at the thought of reuniting with her best friend. Even if her departure had been bittersweet, Rosie would do anything to see Amata—or anybody familiar from the vault, if only to feel closer to home again. Well, almost anybody from the vault. The more she thought about it, only one of the rebels had such a strong desire to leave and that was Butch DeLoria—somebody she had no interest in seeing.

“Can’t say he had much in the way of manners, though,” Harkness muttered.

She frowned, hopes dashed. It was almost certainly Butch.

The guard intuitively picked up on her disappointment. “Thought that would be some good news for you.”

“No,” Rosie fumbled, forcing a polite smile. “Yes—I mean, it’s unexpected, is all.”

“Well,” Harkness cleared his throat. “From what I can tell, he’s been spending his time down in the bar, if you need to find him.”

Rosie did not—but she wasn’t going to be so rude to Harkness about it. She filed the information away in her mind, silently thanking the man with a curt nod before moving on. Seagrave was absent from his stall, so she continued around to the bulkhead door that led to the upper decks, determined to stay focused on her main goal. Doctor Li’s room was practically empty of possessions, save for the terminal on her desk and a few old notebooks in the drawers. Rosie got to work on transferring the data onto a spare holodisk, staring out into the hall as the computer periodically beeped.

Curiosity was about to get the best of her as she thought about making her way below deck to the Muddy Rudder. She had never been to the ship’s bar before—never had a reason to, seeing as she didn’t drink—and so far, nothing in her travels had directed her there. Even now, even with Harkness’ information, she hardly thought a visit was warranted. So what if Butch DeLoria was loitering about in Rivet City? She didn’t even like him, and she was sure he felt the same—even if he had been suspiciously kind in their last few interactions. That homesick feeling returned, clenched gut and heavy chest making it feel like she wanted to retch, or cry, or both.

The computer buzzed at her, signaling the files were ready and the original reason for coming to the city was accomplished. As she walked down the halls, she contemplated renting the extra room from Vera Weatherly but instead, at the juncture, she turned right, taking the path that led to the ship’s stairway. Rosie’s mind was racing, an internal argument raging about what she was doing. Even she couldn’t give herself a clear answer, forced to continue down the stairs until she was standing outside the bar entrance. She just needed to see for herself that Amata had kept her promise and then she would leave—she didn’t even need to speak with Butch.

The second-floor balcony of the bar was dark and deserted, the metal planks beneath her feet creaking as she tentatively made her way down the stairs. She peeked towards the bar and while there were a few people sitting among the barstools, there was one person she recognized all too well.

Butch was hunched over his Pip-Boy, expression hard to read from where she stood. But he looked no worse for wear than the last time she saw him—which was surprising, considering how far away Rivet City was from Vault 101. He wasn’t wearing his vault suit, swapped out for tattered jeans and faded white t-shirt, though he was still sporting the same leather jacket with the embroidered snake on the back—Tunnel Snakes—she had a matching one hanging over the back of her couch in Megaton. His hair was still elaborately styled, and she was sure he reeked of pomade. The only thing that was different about him was the pistol holstered to his side—that, and the glass of whiskey set before him.

“Hey honey,” the waitress greeted, pulling Rosie from her thoughts.

She flinched, realizing she had been standing there at the foot of the stairs just staring—all the lessons on societal norms blanked from her mind as she remained silent. One foot moved backwards, thinking she could just as easily slink away and pretend she never came to the Muddy Rudder in the first place. The older lady looked at her confused, prompting Butch to glance up and over his shoulder. Their eyes met and as he grinned, she froze, instantly regretting whatever decision that led her there.

“No way!” he shouted in disbelief, swiveling to face her. “Stitches. My best gal, the one who sprung me from the vault!” He tapped his glass, which seemed to signal the bartender. “I think I owe this lovely lady a drink!”

Rosie blinked, sure she had woken up in some kind of fever dream. Who did Butch think he was? Did he get off on toying around with playing nice after all those years of teasing and torture? For nineteen years, she had known him as a bully, a jerk—that didn’t get to change just because he had recently discovered how to play nice. Frustration took over and she shook her head.

“No,” she insisted, sidestepping around him. She wasn’t sure where she was heading, but the sooner she got away, the sooner she could berate herself over the foolish choice of finding him in the first place.

“Why’d you come down here then?” he asked, obviously annoyed. His eyes were narrowed as he glanced over her appearance. “A bar ain’t a place for a goody-good like you. Which means, you came to see me.”

She rolled her eyes, arms crossed over her chest. It didn’t matter that there was some truth to his statement—she was never going to admit that to him. Butch motioned to the empty seat next to him and after a stretch of silence she relented with a deep sigh. Better judgement told her to walk away but somewhere deep down she knew if she did, she’d have regrets. Full of apprehension, she eased herself onto the barstool, lowering her pack of belongings onto the floor and shifting it so it was safely tucked under her feet.

“Nuka-Cola?” he offered, and she nodded in reply.

Butch fetched a few caps from his pocket before she could protest, exchanging them with the bartender who set the cold bottle in front of Rosie. She busied herself with taking a few sips, ignoring the fact his eyes continued to dart across her face, occasionally flicking to her rifle and down to survey the rest of her body. She rubbed at her arm, uncomfortable in the quiet—usually when the two were in each other’s presence, it was turbulent. When she returned to the vault, she had purposefully avoided him, until he cornered her in the clinic demanding to know what her problem was. Amata had broken up that argument and Butch hadn’t gotten a straight answer before Rosie left for good.

He grumbled something into his glass before repeating it clearly for her. “Going to give me the silent treatment for the rest of our lives, Stitches?”

“Would that be so bad?” she shrugged, taking another drink. “We don’t even like each other.”

He bristled, eyebrows furrowing. “Speak for yourself. When have I ever said that I don’t like you?”

Rosie scoffed, side-eyeing him. “Actions speak louder than words, Butch,” she set her bottle down and raised her hand, counting off on her fingers. “All those times you tripped me down the hallway on the way to class, put crude notes on my back, when you’d put bubblegum in my hair, or when you cut my braid off?”

“Yeah, okay,” he muttered, face slightly red. “But we were kids!”

“You were a jerk to me up until the day I was forced to leave the vault, and you know it,” she was firm, amazed she had the courage to confront him at all. “Just because I helped your mom and you gave me some stupid jacket doesn’t make us friends.”

His frown was more of a pout as he slouched against the bar. “The jacket ain’t stupid.”

“What are you doing down here, Butch?” she questioned, changing the subject. “How did you get to Rivet City from the vault?”

“Same way anyone does,” he answered, indifferently. Rosie decided that was code for dumb luck. How he seemed to get across the Wasteland unscathed while she barely survived without Brotherhood assistance was baffling. “What do you care? Shouldn’t you be looking for your old man, anyways?” he asked, downing the rest of the amber liquid in his glass with a hiss.

“He’s dead,” she replied, solemnly. The Nuka-Cola was back in her hand and she focused on the bright spotlight hanging above them until shadows formed in the corners of her eyes. “He died before I returned to the vault.”

She didn’t owe him an explanation, but he got one anyways, the truth hanging in the air between them and creating a pocket of tension. Before she could stop herself, or even realize what was happening, tears prickled her vision. Mortified, she raised a hand to try and shield her face, wiping at her eye beneath her glasses.  

“Shit, Rosie—I—” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, silencing himself for a moment. “Hey, hey, don’t cry.”

She was caught off guard by his use of her name, unsure if she could remember the last time he had said it—if he ever had. It was always Stitches, Nosebleed or some other teasing nickname, never her given name. He patted at his jacket, one hand disappearing into the inside pocket before brandishing a white, linen handkerchief. Rosie softly gasped as he pushed it into her hands, staring down at the delicate thing in bewilderment. In one corner, there were two letters—E.D.—it had clearly belonged to his mother. Butch remained silent, head turned away in embarrassment. She removed her glasses before carefully dabbing at her tears, not wanting to tarnish the fabric. Awkward silence stretched between them until he cleared his throat, catching her attention. Even though he was sitting next to her, he was mostly a blurry haze without her glasses, which was fine, given the circumstances.

“Do…you want to talk about it?” he hesitantly asked.

Rosie gave a little shake of her head, wiping at her eyes some more before folding the handkerchief back into a small square. “No,” she whispered. “I’m not ready yet.”

His expression was a mix of sympathy and skepticism, one she had seen from some of the scientists who had survived the attempted Enclave coup at Project Purity. She knew full well the ramifications of keeping her trauma bottled up, but there wasn’t a soul left on Earth that she trusted to help with the magnitude of emotions she was carrying. Not Amata, not Doctor Li, certainly not Butch.

“Have you been traveling around by yourself this whole time?” he asked next.

She sniffled, shooting a slight glare in his general direction. “It might surprise you, but I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” he mumbled. When she adjusted her glasses back on the bridge of her nose, he was eyeing the plasma rifle slung across her back again. He focused in on her Pip-Boy, one hand reaching out to tap at the glass screen. “What’d you do to it?”

Rosie reflexively pulled her arm back, but still acknowledged the flickering screens and garbled text. But it still worked, and she had been managing for forty days. Forty days—the date flashed before her eyes and she clicked through the menus to confirm she was correct. Butch’s fingers wiggled against the cuff once more.

“Give it here,” he encouraged. Rosie didn’t budge—if anything, she shrunk further away from his grasp. “Come on, let me see.”

“What, so you can make it worse?” she refuted.

He scowled at her. “Just give me the damn Pip-Boy, Stitches.”

Reluctantly, she removed the device from her arm before sliding it across the bar to him. Butch studied the screens for a while, tutting his tongue in disapproval. He fished his pocketknife from his jacket, flicking up the blade before prying open the side panel, exposing the wires and processor. He hummed, maneuvering his fingers along a few cables before tapping the screen a few times. Rosie continued to watch him tamper as she drank her soda, wondering where he had picked up the skill. As far as she knew, he had no interest in science or technology, and had never seen him tinkering with projects in the vault. After a few more moments, he wordlessly handed the Pip-Boy back, the reboot screen fading away to reveal a perfectly clear display—free of glitches and errors.

She gaped at him in disbelief. “What—but how?”

“I can be good at things when I wanna be,” he touted, crossing his arms. “I might not be your kind of smart but I’m not stupid.”

Rosie finished securing the Pip-Boy around her wrist, smiling a little when the Vault-Boy gave a thumbs up in recognition of her profile. Her expression fell when she realized her name has been updated to Stitches.

Butch idly drummed his fingers along the counter. “Ya’ know, if you ever need some backup out there, you know where to find me.”

Rosie held back her amusement. Despite what he had just done to help, she was resistant. “No offense, but why would I ever travel with you?”

“I figured you’d want a friend,” he responded, the same annoyed expression from before settling on his features.  

There was that word again. She sighed. “We aren’t—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he chided, interrupting her. “Maybe we could try to be friends. A new gang, just the two of us.”

Butch being who he was aside, the allure of company nearly had her blindly agreeing. The Wasteland was a lonesome place, and the loss of her father and home compounded the isolation. She thought back to how desperate she was for something that reminded her of the vault—but this wasn’t what she imagined. Rosie didn’t want to settle, but she didn’t want to turn away from the offer either.

“I can’t just forgive you for nineteen years of suffering so easily,” she started. “We aren’t underground anymore. You can’t treat me like some plaything anymore.”

His lips were pressed in a flat line as he processed her words. “You were a jerk to me too, you know.”

Yes, Rosie was aware, but she had acted out of defense—she wasn’t going to apologize for her behavior until he did. She silently glared at him, and he rolled his eyes before kicking the toe of his boot against the ground. Of course, they were both incredibly stubborn in their own ways—more alike than she even realized.  

“Fine, fine,” he sighed, scratching at the skin behind his ear as he avoided her eyes. “Whatcha say to a do over? Start over everything between us nice and fresh?”

Rosie made to argue when she realized his proposal actually sounded reasonable. It took a moment to fully understand that Butch had suggested something so amiable, her brain thoroughly confused and mildly frustrated. Why hadn’t he ever approached conflict this way when they were living in Vault 101? Adolescent peer-pressure was a likely culprit, but she had to wonder what else had caused such a dramatic shift in his personality.

“Now isn’t the time to give me the cold shoulder, Stitches,” he said, leaning his elbow against the bar. “Can we just…say sorry and ditch the past where it belongs?”

“You first,” she said firmly. She’d never heard an apology from him that wasn’t coerced from one of the adults.

Surprisingly, he made the effort to meet her gaze, baby-blue eyes locking onto hers. “I’m sorry, Rosie.”

Short, but she supposed it would have to suffice. To his credit, it sounded…sincere. A strange warmth radiated from her chest, but she ignored the feeling, focusing on her response. “I accept your apology,” she nodded. “I’m sorry too, Butch.”

“Whadd’ya say to the Tunnel Snakes riding again?” he asked, mood visibly cheerier. “Or, y’know, slithering, whatever!”

Rosie smiled, amazed where the conversation had ended up. Unexpected, but better to make the best of a strange situation than be stuck in one place forever. Or in her case, wander aimlessly, alone. She nodded at him, handing back the white handkerchief. “Okay, Butch. If you can call two people a gang.”

“Pfft,” he dismissed her skepticism with a wave of the hand. “We’ll be the most awesome gang the Wasteland’s ever seen.”  

A few hours later, the two stood outside on one of the city’s overlook points, Butch leaning over the railing without fear of falling into the waters below. Rosie was plotting a course for their return to Megaton, figuring it would be a good idea to stop at the Citadel and get her companion some better gear, if he wanted. She flicked her eyes up to him, groaning at the way he was developing a large ball of spit to release over the ledge—at least his company wouldn’t lack for entertainment. Behind him, the sun was beginning to set, casting the Jefferson Monument in a hue of dark orange. The pain of the memories still lingered, but at least she wasn’t alone, not anymore.

[imagine-loki]

The Slutty Webs one Weaves

Title : The Slutty Webs one Weaves

Chapter NO. 5 of 10?

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki’s Asgardian wife learns women write fanfiction about him on a trip to Midgard. She’s edgy for the duration and lets him have it when they get back.

Author: lokilover9

Rating: M

Thor agreed Brianna going to Asgard a good idea as Loki presumed and shielded her from Heimdall's sight as a precautionary measure. Before leaving, the brother's sat observing Little Warrior lead Tony and Pepper to the couch and hand him a usb stick.

"What's this?" He asked.

"A computer virus. My revenge plan was to disembowel Jarvis if you hadn't kept your promise."

Stark eyed Loki who shrugged a shoulder. "Don't look at me. I only learned of it this morning."

"It's my creation, pretty nasty and should be destroyed." Said Brianna.

"How nasty?"

"It bears the potential to wipe out most of New York's power grids."

Tony was momentarily speechless. "I'll do that and am overjoyed you two became friends."

"Me too and sorry for being so rude when you touched my stuff."

"It's alright." Said Pepper.

"No it wasn't. You deserve to know why. Loki mentioned the homeless people right?"

"Yes."

"Dory was the first one I met. Taught me handy street smarts and helped shop for my boy clothes. Ran away from home because her moms boyfriend was a jerk. I encouraged her to call one day and when she learned they split up, convinced her to go home. Really smart person. Dreams of becoming an Astronaut. Anyway, she had a big crush on Captain America and gave me her favorite hat as a gift. Then I met Muriel. A mean looking older lady who was actually super sweet and protected me something fierce. Beat this guy up one night for trying to steal my blanket while cursing him sideways. She loved Chinese food and taught me self defence techniques, like how to poke a hole in someone's brain by shoving a chopstick up their nose."

Everyone's ears and attention piqued as Tony wondered if Muriel was a distant cousin of Sasquatch's. "Hopefully not on live subjects."

"No, silly. On a plastic skull she molded a face onto with clay. I paid for the supplies. Helping police identify people used to be her job in Arizona. Great way to kill zombies though. Best to behead them like with vampires and guarantee they've bit the bullet." Brianna then pulled a gold bracelet with a four leaf clover charm from her pocket. "Muriel was Irish and gave me this for good luck. It's too big so I carry it in my pocket. Before meeting you guys, they were the first people who were super nice to me. I fretted their gifts ruined in the wash."

"I'm sorry." Said Pepper.

"It's okay. I was just a little freaked."

'And nearly built a cave for the abominable snowman.' Thought Stark. "We were more worried about you after the fact."

"I could tell by your happy dance when I woke."

"Hey, badass did one too. In the hall. You didn't see."

Brianna giggled. "Thanks to you both for everything and I'm sorry for lying."

"Meh, we understand."

"I meant about not having a favorite Avenger. It's you uncle Cootyoodles. That's why I sought your help first. The Black Widow was my next stop."

Tony pictured Nat teaching her how to yank teeth out with pliers and felt twice as relieved for keeping that promise. "Nat's eccentric and hates zombies. I'm way more fun." Brianna suddenly hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek. "Awe, Little Warrior. Friends forever?"

"Damn straight!" Then she did the same to Pepper. "I forgot to explain why you're a badass role model. Working so hard to become CEO of a massive company like Stark Industries and executing all that embodies? You rock! I hope to grow up as astute, diligent and athoritative. Maybe I'll run a company one day."

"You already possess those traits and will exceed my achievements."

No one knew that better than Loki who cleared his throat. "Grandmother and Grandfather go to bed early, Min Lille."

"One more minute, please?"

"Alright."

She studied Stark, pondering the best way to implement her request. "You don't have to do this, but… Not all homeless people are bad or crazy like others seem to believe. Many hit hard times and the world is so expensive, they couldn't keep up. No one I met lived on the streets because they wanted to. There just aren't enough shelters or resources available. You're rich Tony and could help them. Will you try?"

As Loki had succeeded with Frigga, those beautiful pleading eyes won her case. "You really know how to pull a guys heart strings, kid. I promise."

Loki wasn't aware she'd intended to ask this, yet was so proud of her. "Min Lille?"

"I know." She politely replied.

"You have to go." Tony suddenly stood and darted for the hall. "Be back in a jiffy."

"Meet him by the elevator, or you'll never leave." Suggested Pepper.

He returned and handed Loki a loaded Iron Man backpack. "More things? Shall I conjure a crate for the bifrost?"

They'd already given her an overstuffed suitcase of clothes and toys and Stark held a gift bag in hand. "Be quiet, you. It's a peanut butter stash. Does Asgard have bananas?"

"Yes." 'Thank the Norn's.'

Tony knelt before Brianna. "I would've packed some tater tots, but you ate them all again."

She smirked. "My goof."

"Rascal. Try to ignore a wee, bitty smidgen, you aren't into girly stuff? We couldn't help ourselves with you off to Asgard."

Brianna pulled from the bag a pink baseball cap that said Warrior Princess in tiny diamond gems and proudly adorned it. "You sure know how to pull a girls heart strings."

"I put some Motown CD's in there too. Teach Dad to moonwalk." Loki sighed, pushed the elevator button and Tony playfully whispered. "From a distance. In case he trips over his own big feet." He hugged her again and summoned Jarvis.

"Yes, sir?"

"Our friend is leaving."

"Goodbye, Little Warrior." Said the AI.

"Bye. Sending you a virtual hug."

She joined Thor inside while Loki shook hands with Tony, his expression saying everything. "Any time. Now get the 'bleep' out of my Tower before I thieve your Daughter."

Brianna shouted as it closed. "There's presents on your bed! I'll miss you!"

Peppers was a black t shirt with gold letters that read Badass Role Model and Tony's was a monsterous box filled with tater tots.

"Don't do it, Butch. If you cry, I'm gonna cry." ***** Loki had purposely slowed the elevator allowing her time to give Thor a drawing.

"Mjolnir in a field of flowers? Thank you fair maiden."

"It's a scratch n' sniff."

"A what?"

Loki picked up Brianna. "You scratch the flowers, then sniff them. The effect is most appealing the stronger you inhale."

Thor took a whiff and wriggled his nose. "Quite the nostril tickler. What should they smell like?"

"Try harder." 'Doofus.'

He took another, looked cross eyed at Loki and began swaying. "...Brother..you…" Then down he went striking the floor with a thud the tip of his nose covered in sparkly dust.

"Sorry, uncle Thor."

Loki chuckled at her wince. "The spell is mild and shall soon wear off."

"Is he hurt?"

Loki let her down to hurle the hefty Thor over his shoulder. "Us God's are resilient. Your uncle once endured a skirmish with the Hulk." After escorting them through a portal and delivering Brother oaf to his bed, he lead Brianna through a second into some woods.

"That was awesome! Will you teach me how to do it?"

"Not in the near future. It's very complicated, darling and I'd hate to think you lost in another dimension." 'Or vanishing one day as an angry teen with a troublesome suitor I dream of throttling.'

"Okay." Brianna nervously scanned the area. "Now what? Carnivores hunt these woods."

"Northern Alberta is home to many. Never go outside without me and none will harm you."

"But wolves hunt in packs and grizzlies are bigger than you."

He booped her little nose. "I'll smell them before they smell us and neither possess deadly weapons in interdimensional pockets."

"Where our luggage is? I tried hiding bigger items in them and the darn things wouldn't come back. Hannah was furious, but I didn't care."

"What did you hide?"

"The back wheels of her Lamborghini, Gallardo. I overheard my Mother tell Claudia she got it from her rich boyfriend."

Loki recalled from spending time with Stark this wasn't a billionaire's vehicle, yet financially unattainable to the average Midgardian. "I see. Did she mention his occupation?"

"Plastic surgeon."

Brianna deserved that minor victory and although he wouldn't encourage it, one cannot preach vengeance a negative path when mapping their own. 'Perhaps he'll be useful to the sluts after I'm done.' "Ah. Care to see what I did while you slept last night?"

"You left me?" She confusedly asked.

He picked her up again. "It was necessary and I returned, yes? I won't abandon you, Og Min Lille."

"Never?"

"Never, darling. "Loki headed for a shack nearby nestled amidst some bushes. With its crooked roof, faded wood and door minus a hinge the structure looked ready to collapse.

"We're staying there?"

"Why not? I'll conjure an outdoor toilet." He teased. "Sheltered of course."

"Ewww."

"Come now. At night we'll have heated beds and during the day, roast squirrels on an open fire."

She scrunched her face in disgust. "Blech! I'd rather eat tree bark."

"You'll get an awful tummy ache."

They entered the dingy space and Brianna instantly focused on the filthy floor covered in forest debris. So intently, she didn't notice the sturdier frames of the structure only visible from within. "How will we keep the door closed and is that poop?"

Loki rolled his eyes at some turds in a corner. "The cabin is made of Brazilian Ebony."

"One of the strongest woods on earth." She commented.

He arched an intrugued brow. "Stained to appear aged, it's also bulletproof in light of human hunters. Consider the other materials deceiving movie props. The 'raccoon' poop is genuine." It vanished with a wave of his hand. "Now, did you mean that door?" It closed and he conjured a deadbolt onto the surface with a panel directly above. "Place your hand in the center?" Brianna did and it glowed green, spreading magic from the center throughout every surface like glowing, emerald fireflies. As they dimmed, Loki turned around. "Or this one?" The floor, suddenly cleared of debris had a sliding glass door in the center.

Brianna gasped in wonder, glancing between him and the mystery beneath. "Where does it go?"

"Did you think a sorcerer Prince would allow his Princess daughter to dwell in a shabby old shack?"

"Ancestry aside, I sincerely hoped not. Even an RV would've been better."

He chuckled at her frankness. "And you worried of uncle Thor bumping his head? The shacks purpose was added safety should a need arise and to keep our secret entrance hidden. "Once the outer door locks, only the interior alters. To outsiders, nothing changes." It opened and he carried her down a mutedly lit spiral staircase, each step progressively illuminating the space below.

At the bottom, she slid from his arm in awe. "Shut the front door! You 'definitely' have to teach me how to do this."

Min Lille was referencing conjuring. Another ability Loki thanked the Norns she didn't yet possess, having confessed so before requesting Tony and Pepper's gifts. "In time. Beyond that archway, another surprise awaits." Loki followed and suddenly pondered Brianna conjuring a future dwelling for herself and that troublesome suitor. 'Lessons commence when your forty.' ***** Thor woke to find two notes in his shirt pocket. One for himself the other, Astrid; 'Sleep well, Brother? We won't be returning to Asgard just yet. Please give this to my wife? I recommend waiting several days, discreet delivery and a hasty exit. A visit will follow and when interrogated, lie. Tell her Brianna came to you and don't mention her ice concoction. Unless you enjoy Father's company when several fries short of a happy meal. As I planned our escape without Tony's knowledge, do avoid his unnecessary panic and Pepper seeking our demise, by not telling our dear friend? Min Lille is safe.'

"That shyster." He grumbled. Jane returned in six days as would Astrid to a missing Loki. Waiting risked a molotov cocktail interrogation. His beloved and coronary inducing sister-in-law, banging down their locked bathroom door while the mighty Thor coward behind a shower curtain. Plus Maxi Waxis training schedule ended in two days. Bribery assured those lips zippered, but Heimdall would think his hastiness suspicious. He called to the trainee in the middle of the night, snuck into the palace and raced back to the observatory like the looney tunes road runner. "Spend it well nincompoo..eh he, Max. Asgard is lucky to have you."

Guilt ridden over her outburst and already missing Loki, Astrid returned in the morning to find the note.

Frigga was preparing to join her belly dancing instructor when she barged into the foyer and flung herself at the Allmother.

"Bwaaahahaa! I want a divorce!"

"Hells bells and bilgesnipe testicles. What has my shameless son done this time?"

"Frigga, your language." Scolded Odin.

She patted Astrid's back. "Oh shush. As if your cursing hasn't scarred the servants ears."