#bean watches wrestling

[beanybean5000]

not to be dramatic, but samantha irvin leaving wwe makes me wanna [!!!REDACTED!!!]

[lucifer-kane]

my mom called about 20 minutes ago and i wasn't around my phone to see it come through. saw the notification when i got back to my room + a voicemail, and i just knew something happened bc she is never awake this early. my pap died last night. he made it to 90 and i think if the pandemic didn't happen since it really restricted what he could do and he was ALWAYS active. always on the move whenever he could have been, i think he would have been around at least a little bit longer and not in a care facility (luckily it was a good one). but god. losing two family members within two months? fuck man.

[societyfolklore]

The Vet Visit

Title: The Vet Visit Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary:  A chance encounter at the vet’s office with their vastly different cats leads to an unlikely connection between Bucky and you. What starts as a shared experience becomes a tentative friendship and possibly more. Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Blood/Injury (mention) Fluff, Humor, Light Angst, Not Beta Read

A/N: My poor boy (Bean, yes that's him in the left photo) had his desexing appointment in Dec and this idea has been bouncing around since.

Bucky Barnes hated the vet. Not for himself-he could handle his own injuries-but for Alpine. His precious white cat was his soft spot, and the thought of her being poked or prodded made his stomach churn. Still, she needed her annual checkup, and he wasn’t about to let her health slide.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Bucky murmured as he tucked Alpine snugly inside his jacket. Her little head poked out, and she let out a soft meow, seemingly unimpressed by their destination. Her bright eyes darted around as if she knew exactly where they were headed, and her tiny paws kneaded against his chest in a silent protest. “Yeah, I know, but it’ll be quick.” He kissed the top of her head before stepping through the glass doors of the clinic.

The vet’s waiting room was already crowded when he arrived. Parents wrangled overexcited dogs, an elderly man wrestled with a squirming parrot, and at the far corner sat a woman struggling with a black-and-white cat who seemed intent on terrorizing the receptionist.

The cat hissed, swatted at the air, and yowled loudly as the woman apologized profusely, clearly exasperated. She adjusted her grip on the carrier as the cat tried swat at anything coming past the front of the carrier. Green and golden eyes glinting with displeasure. The feline was a striking black with a white chest, jaw, and paws. Its haughty demeanour was only amplified by the disdainful glare it cast at anyone who dared get too close.

“Chess,” she scolded, her voice a mix of sternness and affection. “Behave, you grumpy guts. We talked about this.” She crouched slightly moving his carrier to the floor, peering into the carrier as though reasoning with him might work. It didn’t. He let out another irritated yowl.

Bucky couldn’t help but smirk as he watched the interaction. Alpine, safely tucked away, poked her head further out of his jacket, observing the chaos with her usual calm demeanour. She let out a soft meow, almost as though she were chastising the other cat for its outburst.

The woman glanced over at the sound, her eyes landing on Bucky and Alpine. Her exasperation softened into amusement, and she raised an eyebrow. “Your cat’s… remarkably chill for a vet visit.”

Bucky shrugged, his lips twitching into a small smile. “Alpine’s always like this. Doesn’t mean she’s happy about it, though.” He gently scratched under Alpine’s chin, earning a contented purr that seemed to fill the room. “She which battles are worth fighting, this isn’t one.”

“Wish Chess was half as calm,” the woman muttered, casting an exasperated glance at her cat, who was now attempting to claw his way out of the carrier entirely. The sound of his nails scraping against the plastic, drawing the attention of a few others in the room. “He’s more of a… grumpy old man type, even though he’s only just hit one...” She sighed and shook her head as though used to this behaviour.

Bucky chuckled, his voice low and warm. “Looks like he’s got some fight in him. Spirited.”

“Oh, he does,” she said with a wry smile. “He was born outside to a feral cat. Though I got him inside a few weeks, he’s still..well. Even now, he’s… selective about who he likes.” She emphasized the word ‘selective’ with a slight roll of her eyes, though the affection in her voice was evident.

Bucky nodded, his expression softening as he listened. “I get that. I don’t really ‘people’ much myself.” His words were quiet, almost an afterthought, but they hung in the air like an unspoken truth.

The admission lingered between them, and the woman smiled, her curiosity piqued. “Well, maybe that’s why you two get along so well.” She glanced at Alpine again, noting how the cat’s demeanour matched Bucky’s quiet, composed nature. There was something endearing about the parallel.

For a moment, the waiting room and its chaos seemed to fade into the background. It was just the two of them, exchanging soft smiles over their vastly different but equally loved cats.

The receptionist called Bucky’s name, and he reluctantly got up, Alpine still snug in his jacket. Her tiny head shifted slightly to glance at the woman and Chess, as if unimpressed by their chaos. Bucky couldn’t help but glance back too, noticing how the woman struggled to keep Chess calm. The cat’s carrier rattled as he clawed at the door, his growls low and insistent.

“Good luck,” Bucky said, offering a rare, genuine smile that softened his usually stoic features.

“Thanks,” she replied with a laugh, brushing stray hair from her face. “I’ll need it. He’s about ready to overthrow the vet staff.”

Inside the exam room, Alpine was her usual cooperative self, a perfect contrast to the chaos outside. The vet cooed over her, praising her for being such a ‘model patient,’ and Bucky felt a flicker of pride. She purred quietly as the vet worked, her soft, rhythmic hum a soothing backdrop to the doctor’s instructions. Bucky listened intently, filing away every detail about her diet, her weight, and her follow-up care. He made a mental note to pick up the new treats the vet recommended on his way home. Alpine tilted her head at him as if approving of his attentiveness.

When the exam ended, Bucky gently scooped her back into his jacket, whispering a soft “Good girl” as she nestled in. Stepping back into the waiting room, he scanned for the woman. She was now seated with Chess perched on her lap, the cat’s tail flicking back and forth like a pendulum of barely-contained annoyance.

“Survived?” Bucky asked, nodding toward the now-quiet cat as he approached.

“Barely,” she replied, shaking her head with a mixture of relief and amusement. “He was all hiss and claw then he played dead for half the exam. It’s his go-to drama move when he’s offended.”

Bucky chuckled, sitting down beside her. Alpine stretched lazily in his arms, her bright blue eyes fixated on Chess. The black-and-white cat blinked at her slowly, his tail twitching slightly but without the hostile energy he’d displayed earlier.

“Guess they’re not mortal enemies,” she observed, smiling as Chess finally let out a long sigh and settled down. “That’s something, at least.”

“Progress,” Bucky agreed. He rubbed Alpine’s ears absentmindedly, earning a contented purr. “Looks like she’s won him over.”

The woman laughed, her smile lighting up her tired face. “She’s a charmer, that’s for sure. He usually hisses at everything that moves.” She glanced down at Chess, her hand smoothing over his sleek fur. “I think he’s just too tired to put up much of a fight now. Vet visits take it out of him.”

Bucky’s gaze softened as he watched her fuss over the grumpy cat. “He’s lucky to have you. Not everyone would put up with a … selective companion like him.”

She smiled warmly at that. “Selective is a kind way to put it. But yeah, I guess we’re stuck with each other. He’s picky, but I can’t really blame him. Trust doesn’t come easy when you’ve had a rough start.”

Bucky nodded, his expression unreadable but contemplative. “I get that. Trust takes time. For people… and cats.”

Her brow arched slightly at his candid tone, curiosity flickering in her eyes. “Well, looks like you found your match though. She seems pretty chill for a vet patient, though.”

Bucky shrugged lightly. “She’s used to it by now. She’s just good at hiding how she feels. Unlike Chess here.” He smirked, nodding toward the still-sulking cat.

“He’s dramatic, but he gets away with it,” she admitted with a chuckle. “Guess it’s part of his charm.”

“If you say so,” Bucky teased, the corner of his mouth twitching into a rare smile. The two sat quietly for a moment, their respective cats resting peacefully, and for a brief time, the chaos of the waiting room seemed far away.

As they prepared to leave, the woman struggled to juggle Chess’s carrier, a bag of supplies, and her purse. The cat, as if sensing her difficulty, began swaying in his carrier, further throwing off her balance. Bucky stepped in without hesitation, his movements decisive. “Here, let me help,” he said, already reaching for the bag of supplies.

“Oh, you don’t have to…” she started, but her voice trailed off as he effortlessly lifted the bag from her shoulder and steadied the carrier with one hand. The ease with which he handled the load, as if it weighed nothing, made her pause for a moment. There was something comforting in his quiet competence.

“It’s fine,” he said gruffly, adjusting the bag on his arm. “I’m used to carrying stuff.”

Outside, she stopped to set Chess’s carrier down next to her car, letting out a sigh of relief. “Seriously, you’re a lifesaver,” she said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. Chess glared up at her through the carrier’s door, tail swishing with irritation. “And not just for me-I think Chess is plotting my demise.”

Bucky smirked, glancing down at the sulking cat. “Well, if Alpine ever needs a friend, maybe they can plot together.” His voice carried a subtle warmth that softened his usual deadpan tone.

She laughed, the sound light and infectious. “Sure, a playdate between the grump and the angel. What could go wrong? Though, knowing Chess, he’d probably just glare at her the whole time.”

Bucky chuckled, the corners of his mouth twitching into a small but genuine smile. “Alpine wouldn’t mind. She’s used to giving people their space.”

As she adjusted the strap of her purse, their eyes met briefly, and she hesitated. There was something in his expression-guarded but kind-that made her feel unexpectedly at ease. Bucky shifted slightly, his hand lingering on the strap of the bag he still held. He hesitated for a moment before speaking again, his voice quieter this time. “You know, if you ever need help with Chess… or just want to compare notes, here’s my number.”

He pulled a small note book out of his jacket pocket and scribbled down his number, his handwriting surprisingly neat before he tore out the page. Handing it to her, he avoided her gaze briefly, as if unsure of her reaction.

Her eyes widened slightly, surprised but pleased. She took the offered paper with a soft smile. “Thanks. I might just take you up on that.” She folded the paper carefully and tucked it into her pocket, her fingers lingering there for a moment as if to make sure it was secure.

Chess let out a loud, dramatic meow from his carrier, drawing their attention. She glanced down at him, shaking her head with a laugh. “Guess that’s my cue to go. He’s got a lot to complain about on the ride home.” She started to unlock her car.

Bucky nodded, the faint trace of a smirk still on his lips. “Good luck with him.” He stepped back slightly, giving her space but still holding her gaze for a moment longer than necessary. “And let me know if you need anything. With Chess… or otherwise.”

“I will,” she said, her voice soft but genuine. As she turned putting Chess carrier into the car, she glanced back over her shoulder, her smile lingering in a way that made Bucky feel something he hadn’t felt in a long time-hope. “And tell Alpine she’s officially my role model for good behaviour. Maybe Chess can learn a thing or two from her.”

Bucky watched her go, his blue eyes following her car until it disappeared. The faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, a smile that lingered longer than he expected. Alpine, still tucked snugly in his jacket, let out a soft meow as if in approval. “Yeah, I know,” he murmured to her, scratching her chin gently. Her purr vibrated softly against his chest, a soothing rhythm that mirrored the unusual calm he felt. “She’s not bad, huh?”

Alpine blinked up at him, her gaze filled with a wisdom that only a cat could possess, as if to say, What took you so long to notice? Bucky chuckled, the sound low and almost foreign to his ears. “Alright, Alpine,” he said, adjusting her snugly against him, “guess we both made a new friend today.”

As he stepped out into the crisp air, Bucky’s mind lingered on the woman-her easy laugh, the way her eyes softened when she talked about her grumpy cat, and the warmth in her smile. He hadn’t expected much from the vet visit today, least of all meeting someone who made the world feel a little lighter. For once, he allowed himself to hold onto that feeling as he made his way home, Alpine purring contentedly the whole way.

The first text came later that evening.

Hey, just wanted to say thanks again for your help today at the vets. Hope Alpine’s doing okay.

Bucky stared at his phone longer than he’d admit, rereading the message more times than necessary. He felt a strange warmth bloom in his chest as he typed his response, carefully crafting each word before finally hitting send.

She’s good. Chess didn’t stage a coup, I hope?

Her reply came almost instantly.

Not yet, but he’s giving me the stink eye. Pretty sure he’s plotting something.

Bucky stared at his phone longer than he’d admit, rereading the message more times than necessary. The simple words seemed to carry more weight than he expected, sparking something he wasn’t entirely sure how to name. He hesitated, his thumb hovering over the keyboard, rephrasing his response in his mind before finally settling on something that felt right.

He felt a strange warmth bloom in his chest as he carefully crafted each word, considering how his tone might come across. Was it too casual? Too formal? Shaking his head at his own overthinking, he let out a soft huff and finally hit send, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at his lips as he watched the message disappear into the ether.

She’s good. Chess didn’t stage a coup, I hope?

Her reply came almost instantly.

Not yet, but he’s giving me the stink eye. Pretty sure he’s plotting something.

The corners of Bucky’s mouth twitched into a small smile. He wasn’t used to this- the casual back-and-forth, the ease of sharing small moments. Over the next few weeks, their conversations became a routine. Texts turned into late-night exchanges about everything from their pets’ quirks to the best spots for coffee in Brooklyn. He found himself looking forward to hearing from her in a way that surprised him. It wasn’t just her sense of humour or her empathy-though those certainly stood out-but the way she made the mundane feel lighter, easier, something he could hold onto.

One evening, after a particularly amusing exchange about Chess’s newest antics, Bucky stared at his phone for a moment, his thumb hovering over the keyboard before typing out a message.

Ever considered a coffee break for the humans while the cats plan their next schemes?

He sent it before he could overthink it, then immediately felt the ripple of nerves that always accompanied putting himself out there.

Her reply came quicker than expected.

Sounds like a plan. Though I’ll warn you… Chess is terrible at sharing secrets. When were you thinking?

Bucky felt a small smile tug at his lips as he typed back.

Your schedule. You’re the one dealing with the evil mastermind.

Thursday afternoon? I’ll need caffeine to recover from whatever chaos he’s cooked up by then.

Bucky chuckled softly, the sound startling him with how easy it felt. Thursday it is. I know a place near the park. It’s quiet, good coffee, and they won’t judge us if we start comparing vet horror stories.

Her next message was a laughing emoji followed by. Perfect. Can’t wait.

He leaned back, rereading their exchange with a sense of quiet anticipation. For someone who had spent years distancing himself from others, keeping connections at arm’s length, he was surprised by how much he looked forward to seeing her. It felt strange but also undeniably good, like the first warmth of spring after a long, brutal winter. Her messages, filled with humour and easy conversation, had become something of a highlight in his otherwise quiet days. It wasn’t just the words themselves but the way she made him feel-seen, in a way he hadn’t been in years.

For once, stepping closer didn’t feel like a risk he wasn’t willing to take. He even found himself imagining the coffee shop they’d meet at, how Alpine might judge him for spending so much time thinking about what to say or do. Would she bring up another of Chess’s antics? Would she laugh that warm, infectious laugh he could almost hear when he read her texts?

But before they could meet, duty called. He’d barely managed a rushed call to her, apologizing as he explained he had to leave town for 'work.' The disappointment in her voice was subtle but unmistakable, and it made something tighten in his chest.

"Oh," she said softly. "That’s a shame. I was really looking forward to catching up."

Bucky hesitated, the weight of her words settling over him. He wasn’t used to people being disappointed about not spending time with him.

"I’m sorry," he said quietly. "This came up last minute."

"No, I get it," she replied quickly, her tone brightening slightly as if to brush off her earlier reaction. "Work is work. We’ll have to raincheck that coffee, though. You still owe me stories about Alpine’s kitten days."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "That I do."

Her quick recovery eased some of the guilt knotting in his stomach. “Um, I hate to ask,” he said, his voice hesitant, “but could you check on Alpine while I’m gone? Just for a few days. I’d leave food and everything she needs.”

“Of course,” she replied immediately, her tone warm and reassuring. “I’ll make sure she’s spoiled while you’re gone. Don’t worry about a thing.”

Her quick agreement caught him off guard, silencing the instinctive urge to apologize further. The ease with which she said it, as though caring for Alpine was second nature, warmed him more than he expected. She even added, “And I’ll text you updates… maybe even a picture or two, if Alpine’s okay with that.”

He chuckled softly, the tension in his shoulders easing. “She’ll tolerate it. Thank you. Really.” He ended the call with a quiet “Thank you,” but the gratitude lingered long after, a subtle reminder that letting someone in didn’t always have to be so terrifying.

True to her word, the updates came steadily over the next few days, it was a comfort to have something ‘normal’ while he was doing off in the trenches.

Update 1: Alpine has officially claimed me as her servant. She’s glaring because I’m taking too long to refill her bowl. The picture she sent alongside the text showed Alpine sitting regally by her food dish, her blue eyes fixed with faint disdain at the camera.

Bucky laughed softly and texted back. She’s testing you. Give her a treat and she’ll forgive you.

Her reply came within minutes.

Already ahead of you. She’s currently devouring it like the queen she is.

The next day, she sent a video. Alpine was curled up on the couch beside her, purring loudly as she absently scratched behind her ears. Update 2: She’s making me think I’m worthy of her presence. I think we’re bonding.

Bucky’s chest tightened as he replayed the video, his cat looking utterly content. He replied, You’re officially in her good graces. Not everyone gets that privilege.

It’s an honour, she texted back. How’s your trip?

The shift in the conversation-from Alpine to him-caught him off guard but warmed him in a way he wasn’t used to. He hesitated before replying. Rough, but it’ll be fine. Your updates help.

Alpine and I will keep holding down the fort.

When he returned days later, sore and visibly battered, she was there. His shoulders slumped under the weight of exhaustion, his jacket streaked with grime and his knuckles bruised from whatever mission had pulled him away. Bandages peeked out from under his shirt sleeves, and he moved stiffly, as if every step sent a dull ache rippling through his body. He hadn’t expected her to stay after feeding Alpine, but she’d lingered, tidying up his apartment and ensuring everything was in order. She turned at the sound of the door opening, her gaze landing on him with immediate concern.

"What happened?" she asked, her brows knitting together as she took in his dishevelled state. Her voice was soft but firm, carrying a note of gentle reprimand that made him feel seen in a way he wasn’t used to.

Bucky waved it off with a muttered, "Just part of the job," but his deflection didn’t faze her. Before he could retreat further into his walls, she was guiding him to the couch, her hands light yet insistent on his arm.

"Sit," she ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument. He obeyed, sinking into the cushions with a heavy sigh as she disappeared briefly, returning with warm damp cloth she have found in his bathroom.

She knelt beside him, her movements careful and deliberate as she cleaned the muck off his face before reaching for his jacket. "Let’s get this off," she murmured, her voice steady but soft as if she were trying not to spook him. He hesitated for a moment, his jaw tightening, but the exhaustion in his limbs won out, and he let her help. She slid the jacket off his shoulders, her hands pausing as the metal of his arm came fully into view. Her breath caught slightly, her fingers hovering mid-air, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she pressed her lips together and nodded to herself as if making a silent decision.

"Okay," she said quietly, her tone calm but deliberate. "Let’s clean this too."

Bucky watched her warily, his gaze searching hers for any hint of unease. But all he saw was determination and something else-something warmer. She reached for a clean cloth, dampened it, and began wiping the grime from the Vibranium. Her touch was as gentle as it had been on his skin, the cloth gliding over the sleek, dark metal.

"It’s… impressive," she said after a moment, her voice careful but genuine. "You don’t see craftsmanship like this every day."

He huffed a soft, humourless laugh. "I'll let its maker know, they'll be thrilled to hear that."

She glanced up at him briefly, her lips curving into a small, reassuring smile. "I meant it as a compliment. It’s a part of you, Bucky. Nothing to be ashamed of."

Her words hit him harder than he expected, and he felt his throat tighten. She continued cleaning, her focus unwavering, and Bucky couldn’t help but marvel at the tenderness she showed-not just to him but to every part of him. She didn’t pepper him with questions he couldn’t answer; instead, she worked quietly, her presence steady and grounding. Every so often, her eyes flicked to his, silently checking if he was in pain or pushing himself too far. "You need to rest," she said softly when she finished, her fingers brushing his wrist for a moment before she pulled back. "Whatever it is you’re doing-it can wait."

The next morning, she returned with breakfast. “For you and Alpine,” she said with a warm smile, holding up a bag of fresh pastries and a small container of cat treats. Her easy attitude brought an unexpected calm to Bucky, and for a moment, he could only nod in gratitude before gesturing for her to sit beside him.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he murmured, his voice quiet but genuine.

“I wanted to,” she replied, settling in next to him. “And besides, I think Alpine’s already expecting her morning treats from me. You’ve got some competition.” She winked, teasing, as Alpine let out a soft, approving meow.

They ate together in comfortable silence, the sounds of breakfast and Alpine’s contented purring filling the room.  Alpine weaving around their legs under the table. Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle, his eyes softening as he watched their interaction.

“She’s definitely warmed up to you,” he said, reaching out to scratch Alpine’s head. “Not an easy thing to do.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” she replied with a grin, her fingers brushing lightly against his as they both reached for Alpine at the same time. The brief touch sent a faint jolt through him, and he pulled back slightly, his gaze flicking to hers. She didn’t seem fazed, only smiled softly, and turned her attention back to Alpine.

For the first time in years, Bucky felt a sense of peace he hadn’t realized he was missing. Her presence filled the quiet spaces in a way that didn’t feel intrusive but comforting. There was a lightness to her-in the way she carried herself, in her laughter, and even in the way she interacted with Alpine-that seemed to chase away the shadows that usually loomed over him.

As they finished eating, she leaned back, laughing at something on her phone and sharing bits of her pastry with Alpine. Her laughter was warm, infectious, and it lingered in the room long after she stopped. Bucky’s chest tightened again-not with fear this time, but with something that felt a lot like hope. He’d spent so long convincing himself that letting people in was a risk he couldn’t afford, but with her, it didn’t feel like a risk. It felt like a promise.

“Thanks for breakfast,” he said after a while, his voice quieter, almost shy. “And for... everything else.”

She looked over at him, her eyes softening. “Anytime, Bucky. Really.”

And for the first time in a long while, Bucky found himself wondering what it might mean to let himself hope for more. She had this way of making his world feel less heavy, less bleak. Letting someone in was something he’d sworn he wouldn’t do again, but with her, it didn’t feel so daunting. In fact, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. And for the first time in a long while, Bucky found himself wondering what it might mean to let himself hope for more.

[clesired]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 | 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 !

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 ! “can i request christmas headcanons about fred? with a reader who isn’t exactly the christmas type but how can you resist lovely christmas at the burrow?” thank you to the lovely anon who requested this <3

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ! how can you resist lovely christmas at the burrow?

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ! no warnings, fluff, gn!reader, established relationship!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 !

🥥 partner!reader who doesn’t care for christmas because your family never made it a big deal

🥥 bf!fred who invites you to spend the holidays at the burrow because he’s convinced that one christmas with his family will change your mind

🥥 naturally, you’re assigned a room to sleep in when you arrive ( but everyone knows you’re gonna end up in fred’s room anyway )

🥥 you help the weasleys decorate the burrow and end up surprising both fred and yourself with how much you enjoy it

🥥 you get addicted to molly’s hot chocolate almost immediately after the first sip

🥥 ginny helps you brainstorm gift ideas for her family ( because merlin knows what fred and george have whipped up for them )

🥥 molly constantly catches fred trying to get you under the mistletoe

🥥 you somehow land yourself in a christmas trivia feud with charlie ( it ends in a draw )

🥥 every time fred catches you enjoying a christmas activity, he smirks at you all smug and mouths ‘i told you so’ ( to which you just roll your eyes )

🥥 you and ginny gossip in her room while you wait for molly and arthur to fall asleep so you can sneak into the twins’ room

🥥 you spend a good five minutes laughing at the twins when they come back inside from de-gnoming the garden looking like they’d just wrestled a hippogriff ( you take a picture too, of course )

🥥 when the weasleys go out to play quidditch in the orchard, you stay back to help molly with the cooking and the dishes

🥥 you try eggnog for the first time with arthur and end up drinking four cups…

🥥 you cuddle up with fred on the couch while you and the rest of the weasleys listen to celestina warbeck on christmas eve

🥥 when it’s time to open presents, your boyfriend’s family are all pleasantly surprised by the accuracy of your gifts ( thank you, ginny )

🥥 you gift ginny a basket of wizarding skin care and makeup products to experiment with

🥥 you get ron a gift box from honeydukes, filled with his favourites like chocolate frogs, bertie bott’s every-flavour beans, pepper imps, etc.

🥥 george gets a quidditch kit that you charmed to be gryffindor themed and a new striped jumper

🥥 percy receives a nameplate for his desk at the ministry

🥥 you give charlie a new backpack and a journal for his travels

🥥 you gift bill a book on interesting muggle artifacts…with a second copy in french ( wink, wink )

🥥 molly gets a new magical cookbook

🥥 arthur gets the latest edition of the guinness book of world records ( courtesy of a very fascinating conversation with hermione earlier that year )

🥥 fred gets the same jumper as george but in a different colour, a scrapbook you made filled with all the photos you’ve captured over your relationship, a box of his favorite candies, and a framed version of the photo of him and george post de-gnoming

🥥 you’re glad everyone likes your gifts right up until fred goes off and mouths that damn ‘i told you so’ yet again

🥥 but when you open one of your presents and see a knitted jumper with your initial on it, you’re finally ready to admit to yourself that maybe christmas isn’t so bad after all

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐪𝐮𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 !

𝐤𝐞𝐲 ! fred, you, other people

🐚 “who would dare put a mistletoe up at the burrow!?” “i just watched you conjure it, freddie.”

🐚 “fred weasley, if you don’t leave them alone this instant!” “mum, i swear the mistletoe put itself up!” ( no it didnt )

🐚 “new gift idea, let’s snog.”

🐚 “awfully good gifter for someone who hates christmas, love.” “don’t start, freddie.”

🐚 “who helped you with the gifts?” “i knew it couldn’t have been you!”

🐚 “why would you get this picture framed!?” “because it’s funny…duh!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐪𝐮𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 !

𝐤𝐞𝐲 ! you, fred, other people

🫧 “yeah, yeah, i know…you told me so.”

🫧 “gin, you mind helping me figure out what to get your family for christmas?” “of course! who else were you gonna go to? fred?”

🫧 “you totally cheated, charlie!” “did not!” “did too!” “rematch, same time next year.” “you’re on.”

🫧 “arthur, you must tell me where you get your eggnog from…”

🫧 “apologies if the jumper is a bit loose, dearie! i had to guess the size.” “it’s perfect, molly…thank you.”

🫧 “alright, i guess christmas isn’t that bad…” “i told you sooo.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ! a bit past christmas, but at least its still december, right? i hope you lovelies enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

©clesired - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

xoxo,

mila! *: ･🐚༄🫧*ੈ✩

[baby-dr1ver]

girls night in, guys night out

a/n: hello everyone! this is my second installment of dad!lando series. most of these can be read as one-shots but some (in the future) will connect. anyway, enjoy!

------------------------------------------

pairing: dad!lando x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, so much fluff, tooth rotting, kinda pouty lando lol

--you invite the WAGS over while the boys go out. Lando isn’t happy about leaving Atticus before bed time, but the guys are okay with being delayed after seeing the precious  moment between the three of you 

Getting Lando to go out has been difficult. Which is weird because Lando is a party animal-he sokes up everyone's energy and has never turned down going to a club. 

But ever since Atticus was born, parties and club visits have slowed down…almost to a stop completely. After every race, win or lose, he’d come back to the hotel room to the two if you. Curled up in bed by 9:30 instead of celebrating with the grid. 

Now that winter break was in full swing, you’d been pushing him to see his friends, even if it was just dinner. He’d always respond the same, “I’d rather be here with you and Atty.” And while that was sweet, he NEEDED to get out of the house. So, you invited all the WAG’s over while the guys tried to wrestle Lando into some “going out clothes” instead of his usual sweatpants and shirt covered in spit up and whatever else his gremlin threw at him. 

“Baby c’mon, it’s one night away.” Lando huffed as he flung himself on the bed. He was half dressed, desperately trying to convince you to let him stay home with the girls and Atticus. 

“What if this one night throws our whole routine out of whack?! What if he resents me? What if he stops-” you put a hand over his mouth before he could get another word out, knowing exactly 

what he was gonna say. “Lan, I seriously doubt that our baby who is 9 months old, will stop loving you because you went out for one night.” He pouts and pulls you down to lay with him. He looks over to the bassinet next to your bed, listening to your baby boy shuffle around. Lan knew he was overthinking things, maybe he really did need a night out. 

“Alright, I’ll go.” he said so lowly, you almost missed it. Almost. 

You sprung up and grabbed Atticus from the crib. “Why don’t you throw that black button up on and we’ll meet you in the kitchen.” Lando cocked his head to the side confused. “Can’t let you leave without helping me give him his night time bottle.” His face lit up with excitement. Lando got into action as you made your way downstairs. 

As you walked down to greet everyone, you couldn’t help but look down at the carbon copy of Lando in your arms. Same nose, same eyes and ears, same cheeky smile-you felt a little sad Lando was leaving but you knew this was what he needed. 

By the time Lando had made his way to the kitchen, you had already dimmed the lights and had everything laid out and ready. He stood back for a moment and watched the two most important people in his life be so entranced by one another, totally blocking out the rest of the world. He made his way up behind, careful not to make you jump, and laid a delicate kiss in your shoulder. 

“Hi” you whispered, never taking your eyes off Atticus. “Hi baby,” he replied with a small squeeze to your waist. “hi other baby.” he laughed to himself as his mini me just peered up at him. “Grab the bottles for me? Everything’s ready, just need to feed the little bean.” Lando nodded and grabbed the warm sippy cup full of milk and handed it to you. 

“Here why don't you” you paused and decided it would be easier to show him. You turned so you faced a little away from lando and brought him closer. You replaced the arm holding his legs with Landos so he supported his body too. He must have got the message because suddenly he let out a long breath and leaned into you. 

“Better?” He nodded and swayed a little to try and lull Atticus to sleep quickly. You all got comfortable under the dim lighting of the kitchen, Lando laid his head on your shoulder, inhaling your scent. The little one looked up at you both with his big blue/green eyes, and reached out towards his dad. Lando stuck out his finger for him to grapple onto and just about glued himself to the floor so he’d never have to leave. 

You chuckled as you watched the pout form onto Lando’s face and leaned down to kiss his cheek. Atty let out a soft sigh through his nose, a sign he was on the brink of sleep. One trick you and Lando both knew would get him to sleep, was singing to him. 

He loved any music, whether it was rock, 80’s, indie, pop, EDM, you could always find Atticus Norris moving around to music.

But what really mesmerized him was the silky voice of Frank Sinatra or Doris Day. You quietly hummed “Dream a Little Dream of Me” while gently tracing his delicate features. “Sing for me?” lando asked as he looked over at you with identical eyes. You blushed and looked away as you softly started to sing. “..stars shining bright above you.” 

“Night breezes seemed to whisper, I love you.” you inhaled sharply as you heard Lando try to carry a proper tune. “Babe, don’t laugh.” You giggled and nudged you shoulder against his cheek. 

“I’m not, I promise, it’s cute. Love when you try to sing along.” Lando scoffed in mock offense as he started to try and defend himself without waking the babe. What you both failed to notice was that he had already fallen asleep, resting all his weight against the two of you. Still gripping onto Lando’s hand, the nipple of the cup was still stuck in his mouth. 

You could see the battle behind Lando’s eyes so you spoke up, “Wanna put him to bed? I’m sure the guys won’t mind being late by a few minutes." Lando smiled and nodded. You transferred the rest of Atticus’ limbs to him and watched him walk upstairs with all the grace in the world. 

Before you could really process, you heard sniffling behind you. You whipped around and saw the girls with their phones out, tear tracks on their faces. “...is everything alright?” 

Kika scoffed, “Alright? That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever witnessed!” the girls around her nodded as they dabbed their faces dry.

They disappeared around the corner, presumably to say goodbye to the HAB’s and you heard murmuring. 

“You can’t make him go! Please he won’t survive!”

“You didn’t see it, i have never seen him NOT wanna go out like that.”

“What?! He’s going out, I don’t care if I have to drag him by his curls out the door.” 

You giggled as you heard Max’s voice get louder. “Whatcha laughing about?” Lando asked as he came down the stairs. 

“Oh nothing, I just think that the guys are gonna leave you here if you don’t hurry.” he only grumbled and yelled. “Yeah I’m coming, I’m coming!” and disappeared out the door.

[mabaki]

WRESTLING FRACTAL IS REAL WRESTLING FRACTAL IS REAL-

Caira vs Zafira ( @floral-necromaniac / @moth-tea-merchant - This was requested by Beans/Moth i swear)

Runa ( @sleidog ) vs Mbk

Michael & Alex ( @ginger-commander-is-tired ) vs Mbk- Get Slim Jim'd

Maelgwyn ( @the-desert-beast ) vs Mbk and Destrey ( @shroomlet ) watching LMAO

Mbk knocked off Stiu's ( @shroomlet ) shroom.... activated his brutal mode LMAO

Shitposts Below

RRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHAHAHAHAHAHA

[isackwhy]

OK OK LEMME COOK, how about the reader who is friends with isaac, and they are fooling around, roughhousing with each other until they end up in an awkward position and i'll let you continue LOL

I JUST SMOKED I GOT THIS

isaacwhy fluff blurb <3

isaac and you were always wrestling. nine times out of ten you start it out of boredom. throwing light punches at him and telling him you can definitely beat his ass.

nick would say it’s an excuse for him to touch you—you deny it each time. he’s your best friend who you obviously do not have feelings for.

jeez.

you’re currently standing behind isaac, talking to him about your latest video as he makes food for both of you in his kitchen. “it’ll do fine, y/n. trust me,” isaac throws his hands in the air, spinning around to face you after he puts the nuggets in the air fryer. you get a mischievous smirk on your face and isaac’s eyebrows raise.

“y/n—“

“nah, nah, i can beat you this time. come on!” you laugh, throwing light punches into his abdomen. isaac deadpans at you, not even flinching as you hit him.

“pussy,” you mutter.

“i will suplex you into the beanbag—“

“do it, bitch,” you land a light kick to is calves. isaac stands still for a moment, crossing his arms.

“dude, you are no fun—ah!” you yelp when you’re suddenly hoisted over his shoulder, “down! isaac, down! bad dog!” you laugh, punching his back as you giggle. “no, no, come on. you wanted to fight. we can fight,” isaac giggle as well. you’re getting closer and closer to the bean bag and isaac has yet to let go as the house fills with both your giggles.

“WHA—BOOM!” isaac exclaims as you tosses you into the beanbag. you fall into the pile of pochita’s and various other stuffed animals. isaac is looking down at you with an adoring smile as you laugh, eyes screwed shut. “okay, you done? i have food i’m cooking for your hungry ass,” isaac sighs, turning his back towards you to go back to the kitchen.

you snap your eyes open and jump up, tackling him on the back, putting him in a fake chokehold. “just give up, isy, it’s over,” you tell him, legs wrapped around his waist. “oh god. i see the light,” isaac mocks, faking a gasp for breath. he spins you both around until he lands face first into the beans bag, causing you to let go and roll to the side.

you kick him in the thigh and isaac shuffles around through the blockage of plushies flying around you two. blindly, isaac reaches for your arm to pull you closer as you kick. because he’s much stronger than you, your body is suddenly on top of his.

you’re basically straddling him. you panic, face heating up while his does the same. his hands still have your forearms in hold as your body hovers above his. you gulp, looking down at him in this position. isaac is frozen, trying not to stare. you catch your breath, wiggling from his grasp and lightly patting his face.

“i, uh, win,” you mumble, getting up and facing away as your heart beats out of your chest. isaac stays with his back to the bean bag for a second, fixing his man-bun nervously.

he sits up, watching you as you walk away all flustered. “i guess. yup. you get that one,” isaac sighs, realizing how dumb he is. you giggle nervously, walking upstairs to go scream to larry about what just happened.

nick’s office door opens, “you’re a fucking idiot—“

“shut up!” isaac yells.

[mbruben-stein]

I fucking love your work

And can you make a TMNT 2012 Leo x Chubby/Curvy Reader?

I love your TMNT work God bless you sweetie🤗💕

I love you the way you are.

TMNT 2012 Leo x chubby/curvy reader.

A/N: I was having a little bit of trouble riding this one. I was just stuck on writers block for a while. I hope everyone enjoys what I write. Have a lovely day everyone and remember that there's always going to be someone that loves you the way you are.

You sigh as you stare at your reflection in the mirror, pinching the soft flesh around your waist. No matter how much you work out and eat healthy, you can never seem to lose the curves and extra weight. Sometimes you feel insecure about your body, wishing you had a lean, slender figure like April or Karai.

As much as you try not to let it get to you, the negative thoughts creep in more and more lately. It doesn't help that you have a huge crush on Leonardo - strong, disciplined, heroic Leo. You're sure he would never be attracted to someone with a body like yours. He probably goes for fit, athletic girls who can keep up with his intense training.

Feeling discouraged, you throw on some loose clothes and head over to the lair to hang out with the turtles like you do most days. You've been close friends with them ever since they saved you from some Purple Dragon gang members a year ago. Although you adore all four brothers, you find yourself most drawn to Leo and his sense of honor and leadership. You try to hide your feelings, not wanting to risk your friendship or face inevitable rejection.

When you arrive at the lair, Mikey bounces over to greet you. "Y/N! Check out this new pizza recipe I invented - pepperoni, jelly beans and garlic! I call it the Mikey Surprise!"

You laugh and pat his shell. "That sounds...interesting Mikey. Maybe I'll try it later." You scan the room and spot Leo practicing katas off to the side. He notices you and gives a quick smile and wave before resuming his focused movements with his katana blades. Your heartbeat quickens at the mere sight of him.

"Whatcha staring at, Y/N?" Raph teases, plopping down on the couch. "Could it be our fearless leader over there?"

You feel your cheeks redden. "What? No! I was just spacing out. Not staring at anyone in particular."

Donnie looks up from the gadget he's tinkering with, raising an eye ridge. "Uh huh, sure." He exchanges a knowing glance with Raph.

Wanting to change the subject, you ask, "So what's the plan for today guys? Any missions to foil the Foot or Kraang?"

"Nah, it's been pretty quiet," Raph says. "Probably just training and patrolling later."

As if on cue, Leo finishes his katas and strides over to the group. "We'll head out in a few hours to scout the city. There's been reports of increased Purple Dragon activity by the docks we should check out." His ocean blue eyes turn to you. "Y/N, you're welcome to come if you'd like. We could always use an extra set of eyes. And I know you can handle yourself in a fight if needed."

Your eyes widen in surprise. Leo has never invited you on a patrol before. "Really? You'd want me to come with you guys?"

"Of course," Leo says warmly, placing a hand on your shoulder. "You're part of the team."

You beam at him, heart fluttering at his touch. "I'd love to come! Thanks Leo!" You try to sound casual and not too eager.

The next couple hours pass quickly as you all eat pizza, joke around, and watch Mikey and Raph thumb wrestle. Soon it's time to head up to the surface. The turtles gather their gear and you all climb out of the sewer into the dark city night.

You follow the brothers as they sprint and leap across the rooftops with ease. Even with all the training they've given you, you still struggle to keep pace with their mutant speed and strength. Not to mention your curvy body feels cumbersome and heavy as you try to gracefully jump from building to building like they do.

After a few minutes, you need to pause to catch your breath. "You guys go on ahead," you pant, waving them on. "I'll catch up in a sec."

Leo frowns and hangs back as his brothers continue forward. "You okay, Y/N? We can take a break if you need to."

You force a smile, not wanting to slow him down. "I'm fine, Leo. Just go with the others. I know I can't keep up with you guys."

He shakes his head. "I'm not leaving you behind. Here, climb on my back. I'll carry you the rest of the way."

You hesitate, self-conscious about your weight. "Are you sure? I'm probably too heavy..."

Leo gives you a look. "Y/N, you're not too heavy. It's no problem, I promise. Now hop on before the guys get too far ahead of us and Raph starts calling me Lame-o-nardo again."

Biting your lip, you walk over and carefully climb onto his shell, wrapping your arms and legs around him from behind. He easily hoists you up and takes off running, not showing any strain from your added size.

"Is this okay?" you ask meekly, convinced you must be crushing him.

Leo cranes his neck to give you a reassuring smile over his shoulder. "You're perfect, Y/N. I've got you."

Something about the way he says that makes your stomach flutter. You rest your head against his shoulder and allow yourself to relax as he carries you across the rooftops. Being this close to him feels amazing.

After a couple minutes, you catch up to where the others have stopped on a ledge overlooking the docks. Leo gently lowers you to the ground. You immediately miss his touch but try to focus on the mission.

"What do you see?" Leo asks his brothers.

Donnie peers through the scope on his goggles. "Looks like your typical Purple Dragon deal going down. I count maybe a dozen of them and...is that Hun? I thought he was still locked up!"

Raph cracks his knuckles. "Not anymore it seems. And it looks like he brought backup." He points to several black vans pulling up.

"Foot soldiers," Leo says grimly as the doors open to reveal Shredder's men piling out. "Just what we need. A Purple Dragon and Foot team-up."

You look at Leo in concern. "What's the plan, Chief?"

His brow furrows in thought before he nods decisively. "We go in quick and quiet. Take out as many as we can before they sound the alarm. Don, Mikey, you guys handle the Purple Dragons. Raph and I will deal with the Foot. Y/N, I want you to stay up here and keep watch. Let us know if any more show up. We'll regroup once it's clear."

You frown slightly, wondering if he just wants you to stay back because you'd get in the way with your lack of ninja skills. But you know he's just trying to keep you safe, so you agree.

"Got it. Be careful down there guys." You give Leo's hand a quick squeeze. He returns it before signaling his brothers forward.

You crouch on the ledge and observe as the four ninja turtles silently take out the guards and make their way through the shadows. It never fails to impress you seeing them in action.

Things seem to be going smoothly until you notice another black van pull up and even more Foot ninjas spill out. "Guys, heads up! Reinforcements incoming!" you say into your T-phone.

On the ground, you see Raph groan. "Aw shell, not again."

The new wave of Foot rush to aid their comrades, turning the battle into an all out brawl. You wince as you watch the turtles begin to get overwhelmed by the sheer number of enemies surrounding them.

Suddenly, you notice Leo get knocked back by a powerful punch from a hulking Foot ninja. The brute raises his sword to deliver a finishing blow while Leo is dazed...

Without thinking, you leap off the ledge and land shell-first on the Foot soldier, knocking him to the ground. You roll to your feet in front of Leo protectively. "Stay away from him!"

The Foot ninja rises and growls at you, but you stand your ground. As he lunges, you sidestep and use your lowered center of gravity to grab his arm and flip him over your shoulder, slamming him hard into the concrete.

Leo stares at you in awe. "Y/N! That was amazing!" He seems to notice your fierce protectiveness of him and smiles softly.

You help him to his feet, blushing. "I couldn't let him hurt you. Now let's finish this!"

Side by side, you and Leo rejoin the fight. It feels so natural, moving in sync with him as you take down Foot ninja after Foot ninja. Your curves make you surprisingly agile and powerful.

With your added help, the turtles manage to beat back the Purple Dragons and Foot clan, sending them retreating into the night. You all cheer and high five in victory.

"That was so cool how you just jumped in like that, Y/N!" Mikey says excitedly. "You were all fierce and BOOYAKASHA!"

"Our girl's got some moves!" Raph agrees, giving you a fist bump. Donnie pats your back proudly.

You smile shyly at the praise. Your eyes find Leo's and he is gazing at you with open admiration. "Y/N, you were incredible. Thank you for having my back. You're a true part of this team."

Your heart soars at his words. "I'll always have your back, Leo," you say sincerely.

On the way back to the lair, Leo insists on carrying you again, even though you aren't tired. Not that you're complaining. Being held in his strong arms is something you could get very used to.

When he sets you down in the lair, he keeps his hands resting on your waist. "What you did tonight... it showed me a side of you I've never seen before. Your strength, your bravery, how you didn't hesitate to protect me."

He looks deep into your eyes. "Y/N, I've been wanting to tell you something for a while now. The reason I get so protective of you is because...I care about you. As more than a friend. I have feelings for you. Strong feelings."

You stop breathing. Is this really happening? "You do? But why? I mean, look at me..." You gesture helplessly at your curvy figure.

Leo cups your face tenderly. "I am looking at you. And I see a beautiful, courageous, amazing woman. Your body is perfect the way it is. Soft and strong. I love your curves." His thumbs stroke your full cheeks. "I love every inch of you, inside and out. And if you'll have me, I promise to show you just how much every single day."

Tears fill your eyes at his heartfelt declaration. "Oh Leo... I feel the same way! I've always loved you!"

Beaming, Leo pulls you flush against him, your soft chest cushioning his hard plastron. "Yeah?"

You nod shyly and he grins. "Then allow me to make up for lost time..."

He leans in and captures your mouth in a passionate, loving kiss. You melt into his embrace, finally feeling fully accepted and cherished exactly as you are.

In Leo's arms, with him kissing you like you're his whole world, all your insecurities fade away. He loves you, curves and all.

[beanybean5000]

nah bc why did she look so fucking good? they said “honoring the LATE great beth phoenix”

[stubz]

Pollix lazed on the beanbag in the reading area. The passing sun shining just so perfectly on the young tighalax. He rolled onto his stomach and kneaded the carpet below when he spotted something or rather someone.

Nova. The ship Captain's daughter and fellow tighalax is currently stalking something.

'It's like watching a newborn cub walking for the first time. She'd be the runt of any tighalax pack in the galaxy.'

Pollix really had nothing against the smaller cub but he just couldn't help himself from teasing and poking fun at her every now and then.

'She's 6 moons older than me but half my size! She's like one of those stuffies we have in the toy bin.' he giggled to himself.

Intrigued by what she was doing he looks to see what her target is.

His ears perk as does his posture.

Kim. One of their human caretakers/teachers. Currently cleaning up some blocks on the ground. Completely unaware of the small feline-like creature.

She pounces. The prey is caught. Sent tumbling to it's side, shrieking with laughter.

A successful hunt shrieks Athea also watching the "hunt".

'A successful hunt? Pfft, I get that they're comrades but how could Athea call that a hunt?' for Nova's hunt was something to be expected of when one was a fresh cub. To celebrate a hunt like this when you were 7 summers old? Unheard of.

But runts do take longer since they're often too weak for some summers to do this type of thing, he concluded.

Still, at their age they should be hunting prey that's much bigger than Kim. Something around Max's size.

"Pollix! I caught Kim, did you see?"

"I saw...you were very quiet. But remember to use what's around you. Like you could have hide behind the bookshelf to get even closer."

"Oh. That's so smart! Thanks Pollix, I'm going to practice on Kim again."

"Mmmm." he curled back onto the bean bag.

"Not impressed?"

"Your blocking the sun Athea," he whined looking up at the orc. "But no not really. I mean Kim is strong I guess but she's a human."

"What. Humans are strong, sometimes stronger than other apex species like us." Pollix scoffs

"Yeah but I knocked her down like a million times when we wrestled! So Nova's probably going to be able to knock her over at least once, or maybe Kim just let her." he finished as an afterthought.

"...Okay so maybe she let Nova knock her over but what if she also let you knock her over?"

<If there's one thing many know about Tighalaxes it's that they are very prideful of their hunts and wins. And to diminish said hunts and wins is to question their skills as a hunter. The fastest and easiest way to tick them off>

The cub puffs his fur and flicks his tail around angrily.

"Nu-uh."

"Yu-huh."

"No. I knocked her over because I'm stronger than her!"

"And so did Nova. So I guess Nova is also strong." she stares at him.

<Now for Orcs, what they're known for is their undying loyalty. Should you belittle or badmouth an Orc's friend within earshot of them be prepared for an argument or a swift blow to the face. Depends on the situation>

The young orc straightens to her full height while keeping her gaze with the tighalax cub. Who in return get's up and rises to his full height as well.

Standing at 5 feet tall both are easily larger than most other youngling species their age. Only 5 inches shy of their teacher Kim.

Only at the age 6.

"Why don't you try to tackle her?"

Startled they stop sizing each other up and turn to the human who managed sneak up on them.

Jasper. A human child their age. Almost a foot smaller than them.

"I do it all the time. It's fun and I get to see how strong I am by how much I can make Kim move!" he exclaims, "One time I managed to make her take a step."

"That could work."

"Huh?"

"If you can tackle Kim then I'll apologize and take it back. If you can't then that means that Nova is strong too."

"Alright. But I'm doing it the proper way. Not when she's crouched down. That'd be too easy."

"Whatever."

..

'A real hunter should rely on their strength and instincts. Not just hiding and sneak attacks.'

He stalks towards Kim who's standing in the middle of the room doing a head count.

He picks up the pace. Her back is still to him.

He's broken into a run now. Normally he should wait till he's closer but he's just trying to tackle her so it's fine. She hears him.

He's at full speed and mere seconds away. Athea will be saying sorry to him very soon. She turns sideways and widens her feet.

He lunges. She's smiling.

To Athea and everyone else watching it was like watching a bouncy ball hit a wall. The cub made impact only to bounce off the human onto the floor.

"OH SHOOT!" Kim picks him and sets him on his back paws. "Are you okay? I'm sorry I didn't think you'd bounce like that."

"..." could she always pick him up that easily?

"You look okay, Pollix are you hurt anywhere?" he shakes his head.

"Well that's good. Sorry about that buddy," she chuckles. "I thought since your a lot bigger than Jasper and Nova that you'd be fine. Here, let me go get you a starburst for the great effort."

"Wow Pollix! You made her actually get ready for it. I never did that. You really are strong." exclaims Nova. Eyes sparkling with awe.

"I, I just bounced off her. Like a bug."

"Yep." Athea pats her friend on the shoulder.

"...Nova you did a great job with your hunt. It was awesome."

"Aw, thanks Pol."

"I wonder if I could tackle her? I am heavier than you."

"Yeah you are pretty fat."

"Fat so I can crush you."

"You two are weird friends." sighs Nova.

[ohgodthevoices]

haikyuu headcanons i got from a hc generator

these are totally random lmao i did not change a single thing and i picked the first thing it gave me 😭

• hinata uses the word "dude" like a comma

• kageyama believes in Santa

• noya is in your house (☠️)

• suga is a horrible liar

• tsukishima is great with kids (YES)

• atsumu has not showered in two and a half weeks

• yamaguchi sucks at saying tongue twisters

• osamu watched the sonic movie

• asahi is afraid to close his eyes in the shower.

• kuroo makes your mom jokes

• bokuto can't handle criticism

• kenma can't spell resturaunt

• tanaka tackles and wrestles people to show affection (lowk real)

• daichi cringes at his middle school yearbook photos

• lev cries while watching disney movies

• akaashi has been to prison

• sakusa likes to eat straight coffee beans

• suna uses the word "fuck" like a comma.

love how accurate some of these are 😭 ngl akashi going to prison killed me ☠️ might do more or draw some of these

[random-fandom1984]

Hello! If it's okay to request Can you do the reactions/interactions of TF earthspark to a pod full of sparkling beans?

thank you!

Okay, let's do this!

(I also made a little headcannon about Elita-1, and it's been a while since I started watching the series so I don't know if it would seem like she would do that. I'm not doing the Terrans because I don't have the mental will to do them. And I'm only going to be doing ones that I can actually think of.)

Autobots:

Elita-1, Optimus and Megatron

I feel like if these three were put in charge of taking care of a rouge sparkling found in the woods, they would all co-parent. Elita is the mom, Optimus is the dad, and Megatron is the papa.

Optimus would obviously teach the little one what's right and wrong and would give them a light scolding if they did something bad. I mean, it's a sparkling, they have no awareness of what they're doing.

Elita-1 would teach the little one to fight in self-defense, and somehow actually works? Like, if one of Mandroid's bots tried to take the sparkling, the little one would body slam, the elbow, and all types of wrestling moves. Meanwhile, Optimus and Elita are in the corner, watching this go down. He turns to her and asks, "Did you have them watch W.W.E.?" Meanwhile, Elita just has a proud, smug smile, hands on her hip plates, proud of the little one.

And Megatron would teach the little one about morals and ideals. Considering that he was a warlord that hurt and killed many innocent lives, who is now a better person; he has experience going down a dark road and doesn't want them to come across it and go down that same path that will on bring pain and misery to not just everyone around them, but also themselves once they've acknowledged what they've done.

Bumblebee

Sorry, excuse me, older brother coming through-

He's a good older brother figure and is not afraid to admit it! He does gets annoyed when the Terrans, Mo, and Robby tease him for it.

He's very excited about what their alt-mode's gonna be. Maybe an ice cream truck!

When he sees the sparkling somehow fighting, he's kinda surprised before he recognizes those moves and his face turns into a -_- and asks, "Elita let them watch the W.W.E. again?"

Arcee

Cool aunt, all the way.

Will spoil the sparkling and teach the little one some moves other than the ones in the W.W.E. that Elita-1 let them watch. They need to learn real moves, such as martial arts!

She finds it cute how the little one wouldn't cry when they fall to the ground, but instead stubbornly get back up with some cute honks with a determined face, causing her to cover her smile and hold back laughing at how cute this is.

Will visit the Malto's frequently just for the little one.

Grimlock

I see him as the wise uncle.

He always gives out words of advice and they work, for example, Jawbreaker.

He'll be gentle with the little one but would be aggressive to those who intend to harm or use the sparkling for evil and/or greedy purposes. He does not want them to go through what he went through in the Bot Brawl in Philidelphia.

Doesn't really care about the sparkling biting him, he just sees it as the little one letting out their inner Dinobot, and it's not like it'll hurt him; he can barely feel it.

Wheeljack

The fresh-out-of-jail uncle because of his experiments.

I can see him more like his G1 version around the sparkling. So, if he's doing an experiment and the little one is around, make sure someone will nab the sparkling before it explodes in Wheeljack's face.

Had the things on the side of his head glow every time he speaks because the sparkling enjoys it.

Unknowingly a bad influence with the amount of times they watched him perform experiments only for them to blow up.

Decepticons

Soundwave

New sparkling acquired. Kids, you now have a younger-

Feels like this is a blessing from Primus because of what happened to Rumble. Because of that, he's overprotective of the sparkling, and so are the other Minicons: Frenzy, Laserbeak, Ravage.

He now has something to fill in the part of his spark that died with Rumble's death.

When the sparkling accidentally hurts themselves, Soundwave will feel a sense of guilt as he's trying to heal them up. He's supposed to protect them, but they ended up getting hurt and he feels like he should've done better. But if someone tries to hurt the sparkling, all hell breaks loose. Soundwave and his minicons will hunt down the person who hurt the little one and tear them a new one.

Shockwave

Isn't really emotionally attached at all.

He does take care of them, but will raise them to be strong because, to him, the weak should serve the strong, and he will not raise a weakling. He is also glad that the sparkling isn't a disgusting hybrid like the Terrans.

He would even perform experiments on the sparkling, such as chemical enhancements to make them stronger than the traitorous Megatron.

Would pull a Mother Gothel and manipulate the little one as they grow up that what he's doing is for the greater good and that they are the key to that future.

Tarantulas

Unlike Shockwave, he does get emotionally attached and cares for them like a parent should.

He doesn't want them to live in fear because of GHOST thinking that the sparkling is affiliated with him because he's considered a Decepticon, which is why he decided to make the hologram avatars so they can hide and be safe.

Gave, even made, some toys for the little one that will enhance parts of the processor so they can be an intelligent individual just like their Sire.

At the end of the Missed Connections episode, he gave them to Nightshade so then they would be out of GHOST's hands. Believing that he was captured by GHOST, I think that he would stay there for the sake of the one he considers his own. When in custody, he would never mention anything about his sparkling for their safety.

[liveontelevision]

Little Lucifer x Reader blurb that's been sitting in my drafts for like 2 weeks my bad yall

♡♡♡

"You know, it's a little embarrassing, I actually had a crush on you when I first came to the hotel." You try to laugh it off, giggling between the lines of a ludicrous thought.

A crush?

On the King of Hell?

I mean, come on.

Oh, but he had to bite his tongue. Hard. He needed to play it off just like you were. By the time he had processed the information, your back was facing him, already engaged in some other conversation with Angel Dust.

You treated it like just a passing thought, a little qwip to make your friends laugh. But that's not what really bugged Lucifer. No, it was the past tense of it all. What could've turned your feelings rotten? Were you so sure that nothing could happen? That it wasn't even a possibility? Why did those feelings vanish?

What did I do wrong?

"You're gonna catch a fly, your majesty!" An accent accompanies the phrase that finally snaps him out of his fog. Angel Dust sends you and the bartender into a little fit of snickers.

He was in fact sitting mouth open, eyes wide. He was hoping he could play it off by simply not mentioning it allowed, but his body betrayed him. He let his thoughts run over the arrogance he should've been feeling- as the sin of pride- so he goes with that.

"Of course, you had a crush on me! I'm The King of Hell, I'm sure all that power can be quite alluring. And my smile, obviously." His daring smirk he holds slowly fades when he hears a scoff passing your lips.

"Yeah, obviously." You roll your eyes at his words, leaning against the counter. Your nonchalant demeanor seems to make Lucifer shrink. "But, no, really.. it was, uh... your sense of humor, and how flustered you'd get around Alastor- you'd get so red in the face," you're still laughing through your words, not noticing the shine in Lucifer's eyes just from the sound of it.

"And just.. you care so much, you know? About Charlie and the hotel, even those little ducks.. You put your heart into everything, and it shows." Lucifer swears the room had disapated around the two of you. With a flushed face, mostly due to the drinks - you'd never be so bold while sober - you're smiling at him so sweetly, he could get lost in just the way your lips curl. How your eyes squint and how your cheeks puff just a little when you fully grin.

A snort snaps both of you out of it.

"So, you like how he's a dad, huh? Is that it? Got a thing for dilfs-" You immediately push Angel from his stool as he starts yapping about some modern lingo Lucifer doesn't quite understand.

"What's that now?" Lucifer cocks his head to the side, watching you scramble and wrestle your hand over Angel's mouth.

"Nothing!" You blurt out quickly.

Moving on!

"B-But yeah, it's not a big deal, It was just a little crush. Besides, you're like a 10,000 year old angel, a king. Plus, I saw your ring-" Damn it. He finds himself placing his right hand overtop his left. "-and that kind of helped me get over it faster.. no harm, no foul!" You finish quickly.

"Well, we're not exactly together anymore." He said those words so fast that it brings everyone's attention to him. The thought of some newfound gossip drew Angel in, but the idea that Lucifer might be correcting you? That he's trying to argue the reasoning you gave as to why you can't like him? You feel your breath start to shallow.

"No shit! Got some marital problems with queenie? Give us the deets, your highness!" Angel is leaning on the back of his hands, eagerly awaiting the beans that Lucifer was apparently meant to spill. He looks around the lobby before sighing and tapping his finger absentmindedly. His claw against the metal wedding band makes a quiet tick-tick-ticking.

"O-Oh jeez.. uh..." before he can fret any further, the sensation of a warm palm overtop his fidgeting hands brings him a sense of dread and relief.

"You don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to." You speak softly, aiming to sooth and also give a little privacy from the nosy guest behind you. And while he appreciates your sincerity, he needs you to understand.

"No no, I brought it up in the first place. But, uh.. you know, we've been together since Eden and 10,000 years is a long time. So.. we just drifted apart.. and sometimes..." Lucifer's eyes drop with his hesitant words. You weren't sure if he was reminiscing of fond times or regretting them with the face he was making. But then, his eyes come up to meet yours.

"Sometimes, people change."

[truefandemonium]

Hi sweetheart!! Your number 1 fan here 🤗

Can I request for a fic where King and reader have a very special relationship where both of them love each other, but they never admitted their feelings. One day she gets shot and King freaks out, almost crying and finally admits his feelings for her. The rest is up to you, love! Hope you like it, hun. Sending lots of love 🤗💖

Thanks so much again for the request! Sorry this one took so long to come out 😭 I hope this one is as good as the other you requested! I struggled a little bit with some of the emotional scenes but hopefully it fits what you were wanting to see!! Much love!!

“For Every Moment”

[Dr King Schultz x Fem!Reader] (Mature)

TW: Blood, violence, strong language, innuendo

Tags: fluff, angst, love confessions, soulmates, possessiveness, tending to wounds, kissing, bed sharing

5,285 words

…

You always wondered if King felt the same way about you as you did him.

The flirting, mostly from you, so it happened, was nice. As were the gentle touches— which lingered longer in the dark of campsites and after private interactions in tavern hallways. On long rides across desert landscapes, you would find King’s eyes wandering to land on you— his gaze rarely left your face, and you wouldn’t expect anything else from such a self-proclaimed gentleman. However, there was once when you’d been down at the river washing yourself and had forgotten to warn neither King nor Django, and the men happened upon you half nude.

Django couldn’t have cared less, stripping down and taking his own corner of the undertow to bathe in, not giving you a second glance, while King turned a shade of red you’d thought was reserved only for tomatoes, and after taking a prolonged look of shock at your breasts, turned tail and fled back to the wagon. He couldn’t even look in your direction the rest of that day, keeping his chin tucked into his chest and hat pulled low over his brow to avoid your eyes.

You’d found the whole thing quite funny, if not slightly embarrassing on your behalf, but King refused to speak of it again, shying away from the mere mention of the occurrence.

Which was why it made this whole thing so damn confusing. Did he love you or didn’t he? Perhaps in Germany, the men were simply more prone to shows of romanticism. You shake your head to yourself as you lean forward and stir the beans in the pot over the fire with a wooden spoon. Maybe you’d never know what was going on in King’s head. Either way, you’d enjoy his company until your last breath, and happily.

“Something on your mind, frauline?” King’s buttery voice breaks into your thoughts as you sit back down on the log in front of the fire, and you panic for a moment, watching him out the corner of your eye as he approaches and takes a seat across from you.

“No, nothing,” you say, wondering how to breach the subject plaguing you. Debating whether or not you should at all…

“You have the look of a kicked pup, my dear,” the man purrs, his tone so convincing and gentle. “You’re certain there is nothing I can do to ease your burden?” You just want to melt when you hear him speak— like a glass of whiskey; making you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

But you shake your head again, suddenly choked at the thought of telling him your true feelings for him. “I’m fine, King— really.” The lie is obvious, and you regret it as soon as it leaves your lips, noticing the way the scorn hits King like an arrow to the chest.

He practically winces as he nods. “My apologies— I do not mean to pry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” you say quickly, wrestling with yourself. You pull the pot off the fire and nod your thanks as King stands and holds out two small tin cups for you to scoop the food into cautiously. “It’s just…” You stop as Django returns from where the horses are tied several yards away, the thickness returning to your throat.

Django instantly senses your odd behavior, his eyes narrowing as he takes one of the tin cups from King’s outstretched hand. You blink at him, silently pleading for him to give you and King space, and thankfully, he picks up on your desperate expression.

Poking a spoon into his cup of beans, Django glances between you and King with a sniff, grumbling, “Need some air. I’ll be… over there.” He jerks his head sideways and starts off into the desert, and you instantly feel a twinge of guilt, alongside relief.

King, confused, opens his arms wide, gesturing to the wide open space around you. “You have all the air of Texas, dear Django!”

The ex-slave just waves one hand above his head, calling as playfully as you ever hear him, “Not with what you two got hangin’ in it.”

You flush at his words, and King’s gaze flicks back to you, his green eyes wide. “Oh?” he says, clueless, which only makes you burn further, setting the pot down after dishing your own helping. “I didn’t realize we had things to discuss,” he says slowly, sitting back down, his eyes still glued to you. As he sees your expression, suddenly teary eyes and red face, his own gaze changes; softens with realization. “Oh,” he adds in a near whisper, swallowing.

“Frauline,” he says gently, the firelight casting shadows across his worn face. “I do hope you know that you can always speak to me.” He tries to joke, adding with a stressed chuckle, “I cannot promise that my advice will be all that helpful, but—”

“No, see— King, that’s the problem,” you sigh, dropping your head into your hands. “I… I can tell you anything— everything. And I do. But you—” You look up and see the way his brow is furrowed, confusion clouding his gaze. You say gently, “You don’t tell anyone anything at all, King. Not even me.”

At that, he smiles ruefully, even the small gesture making your belly tighten. “Ach, mein lieb,” he sighs softly, “I am an old man. I do not expect a girl like yourself to be a confidant, and that is not something you should ever feel is required of you—”

“But I want to be,” you argue. King seems taken aback, even leaning up from where his forearms had been resting on his knees to look at you.

“Y/N,” he says slowly, as if explaining to a child. “I need you to know this: I love you.”

Your heart stops in this moment, and you’re sure if physics weren’t against you— you’d be floating right up into the stars above your head.

King continues, gesturing to the dark desert where his partner has just disappeared to, “Just as I love our dear Django. You two are my closest compatriots— dare I say friends.” At that, he smiles, and you feel your chest begin to constrict, sadness creeping up your throat and threatening to steal your breath away. Friends, right. Nothing more. But as quick as it had appeared, King’s smile leaves again, in lieu of his expression growing deadly serious. “And that means that you are both at a greater risk for being the targets of unhappy acquaintances of bad men I have a duty to dispatch. I enjoy your company— and always have. But I will not allow myself to be the reason either of you get hurt.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” you try to reason, simply wanting to hear him admit that he likes you more than he’s letting on.

“Then what—” King’s words are cut off by Django’s sudden and panicked return from the desert; the fellow bounty hunter practically sprinting to your side, eyes huge and breathing heavy.

“Damn rattlesnake ‘bout bit my ass up,” he pants, jerking one thumb over his shoulder.

“You what?” King asks, clearly having been so focused on snapping back at you that he hardly heard his friend.

Django frowns, saying in a choppy, disdainful tone, “A rattler, King. Almost bit. My ass. The hell up.” His brown eyes flick between you and King, trying to gauge the tension there. “You two done bickerin’, then?”

King looks at you, his gaze managing to still remain confused even after your outburst. “I did not think any bickering occurred, Y/N—?”

You stand up without looking at him, pushing your half-eaten tin cup of beans into Django’s hands. “I’m not hungry. Goodnight, Django.” You turn slightly and mutter, “Night, King.”

As you make your way toward the horses to acquire your bedroll, you don’t see the way Django shrugs and sits down to begin digging into your leftovers— nor how King watches you go with a broken expression. There was so much he wanted to say… he just didn’t know how.

Little did you know, this was the first time in King’s life he’d found himself speechless.

…

“Dammit fuck, King, he’s getting away!” Django curses, his burning eyes glued to the form of the desperado booking it across the sandy desert.

King smiles, his silver beard catching the sunlight beating down from above, his green eyes shimmering as he watches the horse gallop with his bandit rider atop him.

“Django, my boy— patience is one part of bounty hunting you need to learn sooner than later,” King tells him, his tone stern but affectionate.

“Yeah? Well I’d rather pop this sumbitch a bullet right up his ass before he has time to tell all his buddies that somebodys are skulkin’ around up in the desert,” Django barks back, seething.

“That ‘somebodys’ ‘d be us, right?” you ask, sitting placidly on the wagon, playing with Fritz’s reins.

King speaks before Django can annoyedly answer you. “I was going to let you figure it out yourself but since your common sense has seemed to have deserted you at this time, I will explain.” King leans over Fritz to stare at Django and say slowly, “We are missing two of three outlaws. That one—” King points toward the disappearing shape of the man on the run without looking away from his partner. “—will lead us directly to the other two, that we are looking for.”

Django’s eyes flash with understanding and he curls his lip in a growl.

“Do you understand now, why we are going to simply follow him instead of impulsively putting a bullet in his brain?” King asks him.

The other man glowers for a moment before responding. “Yeah, you don’t gotta be so con-sendin’ ‘bout it,” Django snarls, hopping atop his horse and clicking his tongue to steady the beast.

King just smiles. “I prefer the term patronizing, but yes, condescending works, too. I will continue to use that tone until you learn to trust me,” he says, and Django nods ruefully. “You know I only have either of your best interests at heart,” King reminds you both, getting onto the wagon beside you. With a grin, he adds, “And money, of course. You really think I’d sabotage a bounty for my ego?”

Django rolls his eyes, lips twitching up into a smirk as he replies, “With you, doc— can’t never be too sure.”

King chuckles, the sound making butterflies take off in your belly, and you distract yourself from his utter perfection by handing the reins off and awaiting departure.

“Ready, my dear?” King asks you, and you swallow, nodding. You want desperately to bring up the talk last night— but you can’t. You just wish you could poke around in his mind until finding the honest truth behind his affection for you.

But before you can even try to see past his gaze to find out the intention behind his words, he’s telling Fritz to giddyup and flicking the reins commandingly. You try not to watch the side of his face as he calmly drives the stage, his brow unfurrowed and a soft smile playing on his lips.

You wonder how he can be so unbothered by everything— when you feel like your very world is crumbling without knowing how he feels about you. You force yourself not to dwell on it. Getting into a deadly situation while stuck in your own head could spell disaster, and you need to be the lookout for your two partners.

After a considerable time following the tracks of your runaway bandit, you arrive in a near-ghost town, streets empty and buildings falling apart. No wonder the trio chose this place to hideout, they’d never be suspected to be found here.

King pulls the wagon up to a tree down the street from a saloon, where he glares and points out a familiar horse to Django, accompanied by two others. The two men dismount and begin muttering to each other, guns on their hips ready to go while you look on in awe. No matter how many times you see it, you’re still in wonder of their ability to work together like a machine, producing bodies of bad men like it’s nothing, and then profiting from it.

You wait atop the wagon behind Fritz until King turns to you and orders, “Stay on the wagon, alright? If you hear two or more shots, and neither me or Django comes out— take his horse to the nearest town, about ten miles that way, and get the sheriff.”

“You’re scaring me with that kinda talk,” you tell him, hating the moments that he gets so serious about collecting bounties. Most often, Django and King make jokes and promises for grand sleeping arrangements in hotels before going to do a job. But every once in a while, King gets a twinge of anxiety, and makes you promise not to try and avenge his death in the scenario he’s killed by his own target.

King chuckles softly, now, dipping his head. “I’m sorry, frauline. I do tend to catastrophize things. I will be out in six minutes, how is that?”

You smile. “Make it five.”

“I’ll make it two if you both shut up in the next ten seconds,” Django interrupts, narrowing his eyes at the saloon down the dusty street.

You and King fall silent, and changing one last (what you hope is meaningful) glance before the two hunters depart from you, and you wring the hem of your dress in your sweaty fist as you wait for them to return.

You watch with a knot in your stomach as they disappear one after the other into the saloon, your eyes finally wandering away from the door and coming to rest on the wagon seat you’re sitting on.

Your heart stutters at the sight of King’s crumpled paper sitting there, right next to your clenched fist. You scramble to pick it up and read it, recognizing it as the arrest order from the judge for the three men inside the saloon with Django and Dr King Schultz.

Shit. King needs this paper, he always takes the judge’s order with him on a job! Panic floods you, and you stand up, hurrying off the wagon and down the street, heart racing.

You’ll be quick. You’ll simply appear with the order, make sure it’s in King’s hand before racing back out— nothing more.

You reach the saloon and get close enough to hear voices. Fear grips you at the sound of arguing.

“You’ll never get all of us, you son of a bitch!” someone yells, and you hear the bang of a bullet being fired as the saloon doors burst open. A stranger races out and collides with you as scream, your head hitting the hard ground with a smack.

The world spins as more sounds ring out, and suddenly you’re being dragged to your feet by a man’s strong hand. An arm winds itself around your throat, too tightly for comfort, and when your eyes focus again, you see Django and King standing in shocked horror just outside the saloon.

The man holding you against his front calls, “Let me and Jake go and you can have the girl! Or else—” You suck in a gasp as you feel the cold barrel of a revolver dig painfully into your side, and you struggle against his hold.

You see King’s eyes fill with fury and pain at the sight of it, his fists flexing at his sides. Django, contrastingly, is calm and still as he stands before you, analyzing the situation with a careful eye. It seems like the first time that Django has ever been the collected one, compared to King.

“William—” King says slowly, but you can hear the way he’s nearing his breaking point. “Let the girl go, she is not part of this—”

“She sure as hell is, now!” the man holding you screams, and you wince as the gun prods you again. You finally notice now, another man standing only a few feet away, unarmed. He looks between all of you fearfully, malice radiating off of him.

“King, shut the fuck up,” Django hisses, not taking his eyes off the man keeping you in a tight chokehold. Panic begins to set in and you start to thrash in his grasp.

“Hold still, you bitch—!” the man grunts, his hand moving to cover your mouth. You shriek as his nails dig into the flesh of your cheek, and you strain, rearing back to elbow him hard in the stomach.

“Leave her alone!” King screams, his eyes huge and filled with terror as Django’s jaw clenches.

“King!” the other man yells, lifting his gun and letting off two rounds in quick succession. But you hear three.

The first man— Jake— drops to the earth in a moment, his corpse sprawled out and bloody.

You feel William’s hand slowly release your face, the marks his nails left already beginning to sting as blood pricks at the surface.

And then you feel the heat in your belly. Warm— no, hot. And wet— you glance down and blink a few times at the growing stain of crimson just below your ribs, on your left side. You don’t even feel the pain until you tip over.

The world must stop for a moment, or maybe you do, because when you open your eyes again, King is there, clutching you desperately to his chest as he leans over your body.

“Ach Gott, mein Gott, nein, nein,” King whispers, his green eyes traveling across your face and body, tears pricking at the edges of his vision as he takes it all in. The blood leaking from your side, the pale skin of your face, growing paler by the second. “Please, no,” he begs in a breaking tone, his hands firmly holding you.

“King—?” you manage to croak, your hand slipping upwards and finding purchase around his coat collar. You grip it like a lifeline, your pounding heart beginning to stutter. “Don’t go—!”

“I’m here, frauline,” he tells you, his eyes never leaving your face. “I’m staying right here, I swear it.”

“It— ah— it hurts,” you whimper, the pain now ripping through you like a whirlwind.

“I know,” King says, his normally smooth voice breaking a bit. “I know, and I am so sorry, mein Liebling.”’

“Don’t be,” you cry, emotion starting to choke you. “I— I should have—”

“No, schiesse, Y/N, this is not your fault,” he says, stopping you. He shifts you in his arms so your chests are nearly flush— you can feel his heart hammering his ribs as he speaks. “I should not have let you get close enough for this to happen. Curse every moment I let pass without telling you… I should have just told you last night—”

“Told me…?” For a moment, the pain is gone. All you feel is a sudden rush of hope. Of affection.

King has never cried in front of you. This time is no different. But he gets damn close. His voice shakes and his verdant eyes grow wet with unshed tears as he confesses at long last, “That I love you.”

He shuts his eyes now, the tears dropping to land in his beard. The last thing you feel like doing is crying, however. Even with your gaping wound, you feel like you could dance. You’re lighter than air.

But King isn’t finished. He shakes his head to recenter himself and chokes out, “More than love, Y/N— I adore you. I crave you. Do you have any idea how long I have waited— longed to hold you?” His hand, calloused, yet surprisingly clean, and oh-so gentle, comes up to push a strand of hair from your sweat-slicked temple.

You shiver at his soft touch and decide to throw caution to the wind. If this is to be your last moment alive, you’re going out taking what you’ve always wanted.

Still holding tightly to his collar, you pull hard, half yanking him down to your level and half lifting yourself to reach him— and slam your lips against his.

The world erupts in butterflies and sun bursts of every color and magnitude. King’s lips against your own feel so right; interlocking with yours in an explosion of warmth and taste and comfort. His tongue finds yours, and you let out a soft whimper into his mouth, startling him to pull away in concern.

He pants, his cheeks already a quiet rosy red and his eyes wide and glittery with affection as he gazes at you in silent wonder.

You wish you had more time, more energy, but your strength is waning. In lieu of another kiss, you manage, “King— I’ve always loved you, too.”

King blinks in apparent shock, an almost disbelieving chuckle pulled from his chest as a smile tugs the corner of his lip.

But he has no time to say more, because then you hear the scuffle of boots on sand and suddenly Django is there, too. He crouches low and inspects your body with a scrutinous gaze— though you can tell how desperately he doesn’t want you to know he’s scared.

“I need to see how bad it is,” the man says, almost to himself before looking up at you. You thank the heavens he isn’t mentioning the atrociously dramatic confession you just received, nor the equally impulsive kiss. “I gotta lift up your skirts, girl,” Django says sternly, his brown eyes pinning you in place as you hang in King’s arms.

King’s grasp on you tightens defensively for just a moment before he returns to his senses and nods briskly. He looks deep in your eyes before laying you down on your back in the sand and ripping off his coat to cover your soon-to-be-bare legs.

You hardly notice as Django carefully but urgently pulls the cotton layers of your dress above your hips, then a bit further to reveal your belly (thank goodness you weren’t wearing a corset), because your eyes are intently glued to the way King’s white shirt sticks to his shoulders and chest, sweat making the cloth form to his muscular body as he watches Django study your wound. You wish you could see past his vest, too, but now is really not the time to ask for a strip tease.

You blink your thanks as King lays his coat down over your legs— not scandalous, as you’re wearing bloomers that reach your mid thigh, but still more than you’ve ever been exposed to either of these men (aside from the aforementioned fateful incident at the river).

Django mutters something for you to prepare yourself before laying his hands on your side and checking the size of the shot. You cry out, and King’s hand instantly finds yours, letting you squeeze him as the pain subsides.

You open your eyes after a moment and are surprised to see Django smiling, teeth flashing and everything. He looks at you and smiles wider. “You're one lucky bitch, you know that?” Without waiting for an answer, he pulls your dress back down over your legs and uses King’s coat to wrap tightly around your injured waist.

“She’ll be just fine, we jus’ need a doc to stitch her up…” you hear Django telling King over you as you begin to drift off. The loss of blood has made you sleepy, unsurprisingly, and although it seems a bad idea, you just can’t help closing your eyes, just for a moment…

…

You wish you could remember the ride here— wherever you’ve ended up. You’re certain King held you the whole way while Django drove the wagon. Maybe you’re completely wrong, but the presence of a snoring Dr. King Schultz at your bedside confirms your suspicion that he hasn’t left your side since you were shot.

Speaking of which…

You shift with a wince and look under the covers to prod at your side curiously. It hurts, of course, but whatever drug they gave you sure has helped with the pain. Your head swims pleasurably, though perhaps that’s the after effects of your kiss with King.

You lie back down on the considerably cushy pillow and turn to gaze at the sleeping form of your beloved King Schultz. His body cocked sideways so he’s facing your bed, coat off, hat in his lap. His head rests on the back of the chair, brown furrowed deeply above his scrunched-shut eyes.

You decide to risk waking him from his gorgeous sleep and slide your hand upward to cup his bearded jaw.

As your fingers brush the stubble along his throat, King snaps awake, snorting gently as his hand snatches your wrist in an instinctive defensive response. His wide eyes pin you before recognition seeps in, and he softens his grasp on your wrist, bringing his other hand up instantly to gently cradle your palm.

“Y/N,” he breathes, sitting up and never taking his eyes from you.

You smile shyly, feeling bare beneath his gaze. Not that you'd exactly protest. King’s own lips turn upward as he stares at you.

“How do you feel?” he asks you concernedly, his hold soft and warm and strong. His grip doesn’t waver, like now that he has you, he’s not ever going to let go. And you want to bask in the safety of it forever.

You nod. “I’m alright, King. I’m doing just fine…”

King chuckles, in that way that reminds you of the way he broke down when he held you in his arms only yesterday. “My dear— you nearly stopped my heart with that little stunt of yours.”

“Stunt?” you echo, giggling at how suddenly nonchalant he sounds about the ordeal. Though you know he’s only trying to keep the conversation light.

His brows raise, and he plasters a mock-serious expression on his worn face. “Well, yes— didn’t you do that to get my attention?”

“You wish,” you snort, pumping his hands up and down once weakly with your own.

King smiles, warm and sweet, like honey. It’s contagious, it seems, because soon so are you.

“Y/N, truly— what possessed you to leave the horses yesterday, mein frauline?” King’s eyes grow genuinely serious, now, and you feel a twinge of guilt at the memory.

“I don’t know… I thought I was helping— it’s all so silly, now…” You hang your head, and King tuts gently, moving one hand to slowly lift your chin with his knuckle.

“We don’t need to discuss it if you don’t wish,” he tells you.

You argue, “No, I do! There’s— well, I’m afraid to ask you, but I need to know…”

The man before you blinks worriedly. “Anything.”

You feel a familiar sting at the back of your throat, tears threatening to choke you, but you force the words out around the lump. “Was it true?” You blink until your vision is clear again and continue, “What you said to me yesterday.”

King blinks, too, his eyes huge as he swallows thickly. You watch the bob of his throat and focus on the way he exhales softly, weighing his reply.

“It was a very tense moment and in tense moments I tend to say and do things that—”

“Was it true or wasn’t it?” you demand, pulling your hand out of his grasp, and you see the hurt enter his gaze instantly. You pin him with your burning eyes, not as furious as you’re desperate to hear him say he meant every word.

You sigh in relief as he stands from his chair to loom over your prone body, bringing his once-bloodstained hands up to cup your face. His eyes bore into yours as he mutters with a tone so deadly it makes your bones chill and alight simultaneously, “My dear, it was all true and more.” King’s green eyes flick across your face, studying every inch of you as he whispers, “If you were not so recently injured— and of course as long as thou doth not protest—” He momentarily smirked at his own quip before returning straight-lipped. “—I would take you apart in this bed right here and now. You deserve to be adored, mein leibe, every moment of every day.” Your breath stutters at his words, soaking up the sudden tears teasing the edges of his vision as he croaks out, “I was a fool for waiting this long to speak my truth, and for that— I offer my deepest apologies.” Without waiting for you to reply, King presses in to lock his lips onto yours. You gasp just before his teeth click against yours, his kiss firm and passionate, and speaking volumes. This kiss says you’re his, now. This kiss says he wants you, too.

You melt into it, arms wrapping around his shoulders and inadvertently toppling him off balance, dragging him down toward your body. He slams one hand down on the side of your head to keep himself from landing his weight on your injury, and you smirk playfully up at him through your lashes.

You take in the sight of his cheeks pink, his breathing heavy, hair falling in soft waves into his eyes as he hovers above you. You whisper, “I could get used to this.”

King sucks in a breath, embarrassment obvious in the way his face turns even redder, and he scolds gently, “Not until you are better, frauline.”

“I’d feel better if I wasn’t all alone in here,” you admit, and King’s brows raise again. You demonstrate your point by scooting to accommodate him and he pushes himself up and off of you, noticing the new space at your side in the bed. You lift the covers and pat the mattress, even, driving it home.

“Ah,” King realizes, his mannerisms screaming barely contained want as he wrings his hands. “I don’t think the nurses would be so keen—”

You shrug. “You kill thieves and murderers for a living,” you remind him, “and you’re scared of a few nurses?”

“I suppose you’re right.” King grins at your cheekiness and opens his arms wide. “Well, who can resist those charms of yours, you gorgeous devil?”

You giggle in victory as King kicks off his boots and pulls his suspenders down to hang at his sides as he takes the space next to you.

You sigh happily as you feel his body come flush to yours, and you’re quick to pin him with one arm draped over his belly, which softly heaves with each breath. “You’re perfect,” you whisper as you study his profile, fondling his beard with your curious hand.

King laughs softly. “My love, I don’t think you know what perfect means.” He turns and does his own fondling of your face, once again trailing his palm along your jaw. “Unless you have been studying your reflection in the mirror.”

“Don’t ever leave me,” you beg, suddenly, and King's eyes flicker with compassion and longing.

“Y/N,” he promises, leaning his head gently against your own. “I will do no such thing as long as I live.”

“And you’ll love me forever?” you ask hopefully.

Your heart thrums as a wicked, beautiful smile spreads across King’s face, nothing in his eyes but desperate devotion to you. “I swear, I’ll make up for every single second I ever let you doubt my affection for you, Liebling.”

With that, he kisses you once more, unlike the other times. This time it’s soft and tender and full of hope. It’s a promise. A promise that nothing will ever keep him from you again.

…

[cazzyf1]

Some facts and stories about Roland Ratzenberger

• When he was seven years old his grandmother took him to a local hill climb race at Gaisberg.

• His first word was 'car'

• He was nine years old when year the family home the Salzburg ring opened. He was get through the gates to go watch the cars drive.

• He had a poster of Jochen Rindt on his wall as a kid.

• When he started karting at sixteen years old he had to get a secondary job at a bakery to fund it.

• In the winter of 1991 he married the former partner of another driver, becoming the stepfather of her son, however they were divorced in early 1992.

• While in the UK, he briefly gained some fame for having a similar name to the TV puppet 'Roland Rat'. ITV invited film to film a segment with the puppet for national breakfast television. He raced against the rat (who was in a car dubbed 'Ratmobile') the Rat Puppet ended up winning the race down to cheating.

• F1 author David Tremayne son's who was three years old insisted on calling Roland Ratzenburg-and-chips-and-beans to his face. Roland found it hilarious and became that young boy's hero.

• Described as 'gentle, always unfailingly polite, tall, good-looking, and with a ready smile'

• Journalist Adam Cooper went out drinking with Roland in Japan and at the end of the night they had decided he should come stay in Japan for a year or two to cover the local racing scene. When he turned up and realised the hotel was more expensive than he had planned Roland let him stay in the spare twin bed he had in his room. He was happy to have company.

• One of his unusual goals was to try to enjoy female company in the team motorhome between stints in 24 hour races. Adam Cooper reccounts ' I think the last time we discussed it he’d managed the feat twice at Le Mans, and once at the Nurburgring.'

• One time he used his deep Austrain accent to record a Terminator style 'I'll be back' answer machine message for rival Jeff Krosnoff

• He kept a black book full of 'ladies' numbers

• One time his friend Anthony Reid had an accident in a F3000 race, and had a lot of blood streaming down his face. Roland had to take charge of the scene as the marshals freaked out. He made sure his journalist friend wrote about the shortcomings of safety in a Japanese magazine afterwards.

• At a Formula Ford festival his team either ran out of funds or walked out and Roland was left with just his car and a toolbox. Because he was so well liked mechanics and personnel from other teams helped him prepare his car. He won that festival.

• On one occasion, Heinz-Harald Frentzen and Ratzenberger entered a nightclub. There was a confrontation between Frentzen and another guy which saw a knife pulled on either Frentzen or a random female bystander. Either way, Ratzenberger selflessly stepped in and wrestled the knife away from the man. 

• A documentary has been put out on YouTube about Roland by Levay film production, detailing all about his life. A recommended watch.

• Bernie Ecclestone personally delivered the confirmation of Ratzenburg's death to the Simtek team

• Ayton Senna commandeered an offical car to hurry to the medical center where he learnt of Roland's fate from his friend, Dr Sid Watkins

• Only five drivers attended his funeral

[summerofofelia]

15 day BL challenge time!

OG here 🩵

Day 13 - Give 5 good boys a gold star

IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER DON’T FORCE ME TO RANK THEM

JJ (This Love Doesn’t Have Long Beans)

Whether it’s babysitting his hapless best friend or fighting off the advances of an eccentric playboy billionaire, JJ does it all with the grace of a sugar glider (adorable and tiny but still soaring above the bullshit). His heart is always in the right place and he doesn’t compromise his morals even when a pretty boy bats his eyelashes at him and promises diamonds and yachts. Even though he rolls his eyes and complains, he’s Plawan’s ride or die. My guy literally paid his bestie’s rent and worked as a server FOR FREE to help Plawan win back the man of his dreams. He deserves all the gold stars.

Alan (Pit Babe)

This man is the father to a garage of dumbasses. He’s basically holding a horde of kittens in his arms that keep jumping off and he’s frantically scrambling to keep them all from wandering off a cliff. He’s like the tired dog owner that spots their dog with something in their mouth and is like, “what have you got? Drop it! Drop it!” And they have to wrestle a chunk of metal out of their mouth. He collects strays and loves them all and gives them a safe space and his heart is broken when someone betrays his little found family. He is a poignant example of gentle masculinity. Man has to jump in a pool and swim laps because he’s panicking about being left on read. He buys matching his and his bracelets. He’s both a disaster and the only one that has his shit together. Give him a blanket and a cup of hot chocolate.

Win (Between Us & Until We Meet Again)

You know what the great thing about Win is? It’s the fact that he keeps trying. This poor little dude is so terrified of vulnerability and needing someone that he completely shuts himself off. But then he meets Team. At first it’s a one night stand, then a two night stand, then he’s slowly falling in love with this little ball of sunshine that hugs him in his sleep and makes his heart beat faster. And it scares him. And yeah, he freezes up and runs away sometimes but he always comes back and keeps going because underneath it all he has a big heart and cares so, so much. My sweet boy, give him all the stars.

Jack (History 3: Trapped)

Okay, okay, is Jack the righthand man of a mafia boss? Yes. Is he a ruthless killer? Also yes. Does he have a long, dark history of being a mercenary for the mob? Most likely. But consider this…

HE IS SO ADORABLE. HE MAKES PACKED LUNCHES AND COOKS DINNER WEARING A GRANDMA APRON AND HE GIVES UP EVERYTHING TO BE WITH HIS CUTE LITTLE BOYFRIEND.

If ruthless killer, explain this

I’m giving him two gold stars.

Vegas (KinnPorsche)

JUST KIDDING

Amagi (Takara-kun to Amagi-kun)

Amagi is basically a fluffy baby chick. He’s a little ball of sunshine. He’s chaotic and goofy and trying his best. Watching him fall in love is so funny and sweet and heart warming. In fact, give Takara a gold star too! These boys have healthier communication than 80% of adult BL couples. Truly the goodest boys.