#he gets a sealed place away in one of the most important rolls because of it

[ranger-danger]

Dude Watership Down’s ending is so good. My neck is the warm sore kind of fuzzy now but it’s alright, headaches are pretty weekly anyways.

[cjlouwho]

if you're still taking prompts:

Buck finds pictures of Tommy in his army days

thank you

@verschlimmbesserung also sent a prompt about DADT, this fic features both prompts! Sorry it took so long to write out! ft. Buck asking loads of questions because he's a curious man.

Buck was busy reorganizing the garage to put the most important boxes toward the front when he stumbled upon an old, tattered box. He and Tommy had moved into their new place nearly two weeks ago, but a wildfire had set them back on being able to unpack and actually get settled.

He didn't recognize the box. Certainly hadn't seen it during their move. The top couldn't even fully close. The flaps were flimsy, torn, and looked like it had been wet and dried a few times over.

He opened the box carefully, then reached in and lifted out a handful of photographs. There were other items inside as well, but the pictures were what grabbed Buck's attention.

They were all Tommy. A young, very handsome Tommy, taken during his time in the army.

Buck had no idea these pictures even existed. Tommy didn't speak much about his time in the military. He wasn't secretive about it, would answer questions when he was asked, but he wasn't one to regularly bring it up in conversation. Buck had always sensed a bit of tension there, so he didn't pry.

The first picture was Tommy in the cockpit, staring straight ahead. He looked hyper-focused on whatever he was doing. The second was him in his bunk, glaring up at whoever took the picture, his hand raised in an attempt to shield himself from the camera. The third was a bit of a shock to see. He had a head injury of some kind, blood exiting a cut on his forehead. He was smiling though, giving the camera a thumbs up.

“Babe, I finished the kitchen boxes, but-” Tommy stopped as he stepped out into the garage and saw Buck staring down at something. “Distracted already? You've been out here like five minutes.”

Buck held up the collection of pictures. “I didn't know you had all these,” he said softly.

Tommy moved closer, taking a few of the photos from Buck's hand. “Oh yeah. I haven't looked at these in, God, like twenty years? Maybe more.”

Buck studied Tommy's face for a moment, checking for any signs that he was upset before asking, “Can we look through them?”

Tommy tore his eyes away from the photographs to look up at Buck. He smiled. “Of course.”

They headed into the living room, which was almost completely bare, but it did have a couch and a coffee table. They laid out the photos and sat down, then Buck began picking them up one by one.

“How old were you here?” he asked. Tommy was staring off into the distance, saluting. He looked like a baby. Didn't even look old enough to shave.

Tommy thought for a moment before responding. “Eighteen, I think? Yeah, that was right after I graduated basic, so eighteen.”

“You look so young.”

“I was actually 5'9 at the time. Had a growth spurt during pilot training.”

Buck picked up another one. Tommy was leaning against a sign that had something written in Arabic, his arms crossed in front of him. “Were you scared?”

“Deep down, sure. Never showed it though.”

“That's why I had to leave SEAL training,” Buck replied. “They wanted machines, and I couldn't be a machine.”

“I don't recommend it.”

Buck spread the pictures out some more, so he could look over a few at a time. “Why don't you ever look through these?” he asked.

Tommy shrugged. “I guess I don't really connect with them anymore. Haven't in a long time.”

“What do you mean?”

Tommy took a deep breath, let it out slowly. He picked up one of the pictures. It was just him, standing in front of a chopper. He had aviator sunglasses on, one leg cocked out in front of the other. There was no smile on his face, just a stern look at the camera. “This guy feels like a different person.” He huffed out a laugh, handed the picture to Buck. “This guy was a sarcastic dick.”

Buck raised an eyebrow. “You, sarcastic? No.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “I was a lot worse back then. Had the worst chip on my shoulder. I'd get angry about anything and everything. Took things that weren't serious way too seriously. Wasn't serious enough about things I should have been serious about. Cocky as hell.”

Buck picked up another picture, looking over every detail.

“I used to pretend he wasn't me, actually,” Tommy continued, gaining Buck's attention once again.

“How so?”

“When I got discharged, after I got home, I threw everything army related into that box out there and shoved it in the back of my closet. Ironic, right?” he quipped. Buck smiled. “Anyway, when memories would weasel their way into my head, I'd do just about anything to get them out. Even when I worked under Gerrard and was still a cocky dick, I tried to make myself feel better by pretending this guy,” he held up another photo, “didn't exist.”

“When'd you change your mind?”

“When I started going to therapy. Learned to embrace who I was instead of try to run from it. Running doesn't really work anyway when you're trying to get away from yourself.”

Buck looked through a few more of the photos before speaking again. “Why were you discharged?”

Tommy looked genuinely surprised by the question. “I never told you?”

“No.”

“Wow. Here I was thinking we knew each other inside out.”

“Well, technically.” Buck wiggled his eyebrows.

Tommy laughed, shook his head. He moved some of the pictures around until he found a certain one. He showed it to Buck. It was four guys sitting next to one another in the middle of the desert. Three of them, including Tommy, had their middle fingers raised high in the air. The guy at the end held two fingers up in a peace sign.

“See the guy with the peace sign?”

Buck nodded. “Mhm.”

“He's the reason I was discharged. Shockingly, out of everyone in that photo, he was the biggest ass of all.”

“What happened?”

“I joined in 2002, and I was deployed immediately after I finished flight school. It was 2003 by then, but 9/11 was still fresh in everyone's mind, and they needed soldiers. I was originally deployed for six months, but that turned into a year, and then an extra three months was added to that. I had two months left when that guy showed up. His name's Hunter, by the way," he spoke the man's name with distain.

Buck took a closer look at the man. He looked a couple years older than Tommy. He had dark hair, darker eyes, a nice smile. Even though they were sitting, Buck could tell he was shorter than the rest of the guys in the picture. It appeared he tried to make up for his height by working out. He was broader than the others.

“Hunter,” Tommy continued, “seemed to fit right in with the rest of us. He was quieter though, which I kinda liked. So many people in the army were aggressively loud, all the time, so he was a nice change.”

“This story doesn't end happily, does it?”

Tommy looked at him and grinned, but it didn't reach his eyes. “He and I worked together a lot. Maybe it was something about the fact he was so quiet that it made me feel safer to, I don't know, to be more open with him. That's my mistake. Over the span of a month we'd gotten to know each other pretty well. Honestly, I thought he was coming on to me sometimes but you didn't say anything about that back then.”

“Don't ask, don't tell.” Buck knew exactly where this was going.

Tommy nodded. “He came to me one evening. Said he had to get something off his chest. Told me he had all these feelings for me and wondered if I felt the same. I-” Tommy paused, took a breath. Buck took the opportunity to reach over and take his hand, squeezing it tight. “I said I did. Said we couldn't do anything about it, but that I liked him more than I probably should. He, um, he recorded my part of the conversation.”

Buck sigh, squeezed his eyes shut. “God.”

“I don't know how he could tell, you know? I'd spent fourteen months with some of these guys and no one had ever suspected a thing. But, the next day I was called in for a meeting with my CO, and he played the tape for me. Told me I was a good soldier, but he couldn't have that type of behavior in the field. He said he'd be kind though and give me a general discharge so it wouldn't look as bad in my records.”

“I- I don't even know what to say, Tommy. That's terrible, honestly. I don't know why that was ever even a thing, and that guy was so stupid and-”

Tommy squeezed Buck's hand now, smiling at him gently. “It was a long time ago, babe. It's okay, I'm okay,” he reassured him. “A lot of people had it much worse than I did. Lots of them got dishonorably discharged, some were beaten up, some were murdered. I was lucky, really.”

Buck felt on the verge of tears now. He cleared his throat, hoping his voice didn't break as he spoke. “It doesn't make what happened to you right though.”

“I know. Like I said, I wasn't the best person then either. But,” he glanced over the photos, “this guy's me, whether I like it or not.”

Buck scooted closer to Tommy, taking Tommy's arm and wrapping his own around it, “I like it,” he said quietly, pressing a kiss to Tommy's bicep. The words garnered a questioning look from Tommy. “Without this guy,” Buck explained, “you wouldn't be who you are now, and I like who you are now. I love who you are now.”

Tommy took his free hand and brought two fingers up to Buck's chin, lifting it until their eyes met. “I really, really love you,” he said before leaning in for a kiss.

Buck hummed into it. No matter how many times they'd done it, something about kissing Tommy always made him emotional. Like another weight was lifted from his body every time their lips met.

“We really need to get back to unpacking,” Tommy murmured as they parted, but Buck made no effort to move.

“We're both off tomorrow too,” Buck replied, resting his head on Tommy's shoulder and closing his eyes. “It can wait.”

Sometimes Tommy wondered how he got here. How he ever got lucky enough to end up with someone like Evan. Someone so loving and forgiving. Someone who loved him and his flaws. Someone who made him feel free. Tommy settled further into the couch, pressing a kiss to the top of Buck's head. “Yeah,” he agreed, “it can wait.”

[suugarbabe]

a little one shot based off this request

pairing: Mattheo Riddle x reader

word count: ~700

warnings: mentions of weight, ed tendencies

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose at you looked at the envelope in your hands. Your mother made a habit of charming her letters to read allowed to you once they’ve opened and you just weren’t in the mood to hear what you were sure was only ridicule and critique about how disappointed you were making her. Your parent’s expectations were high to say the least. You thanked Merlin for your sorting into Slytherin, hoping that keeping that legacy would at least have them showing some sort of affection, but alas you were given a letter listing more expectations now that you’ve met a previous one. 

You swallowed, finally getting the courage to tear the seal. As soon as it was broken the letter finished opening on its own, folding into a pair of disapproving lips that strongly resembled your mum. You closed your eyes, ready to bar the message. “Y/n…hope you’re doing well,” your mother’s voice rang through the room as you rolled your eyes. “Your father and I got your most recent marks. We were disappointed to see you let that mudblood best you yet again, it really would be nice if you put in some effort with your studies.” You groaned, rubbing your hands over your face. You were second in your class, only behind Hermione Granger who, very obviously, was the smartest witch to come out of your generation. She was actually a sweet girl, and your mother’s use of the derogatory term turned your stomach. 

You had hoped that was the gist of the letter, but your mother’s voice continued, “Your father and I also received the latest Hogwarts Herald. The photo they used of you from the last quidditch match really was awful, seems like you’ve quite a bit…larger than when you left this fall. Please remember to pace yourself at meals, chew at least twenty times before you swallow. It’ll trick your mind to think you’re fully, trust me. You’ll thank me for it later. Also, please remember to pack your nicer clothing when you come home for Holiday. You know how important those parties are for your father.” With that the letter floated down to your desk, reverting back to a simple piece of parchment. 

You let out a shuttered breath, not even aware you were holding it in. Your eyes brimming with tears. “Y/n/n…” you turn your head at the sound of Mattheo’s voice, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand before standing up, trying to compose yourself. “Oh, hey Teo, what’s up?” He looked at you with sad eyes, “Was that your mum?” You nodded, putting on a smile the best you could, “Yeah, she’s, erm, just really passionate about her beliefs. No big deal, how much, uh, how much did you happen to hear?” Mattheo walked closer to you, “Heard that she wants you to starve yourself, why on earth would she say something like that?” 

He went to place his hands on your hips, but you pushed them away. You walked over to your bed, sitting on the edge. Mattheo turned in his spot, “You know what she says isn’t true, don’t you, love?” You shrugged your shoulders, unsure of yourself. “Princess, you are so absolutely breathtaking. You are so strong, one of the toughest beaters I know, you’re the reason we won the last five games, that’s why they took that photo of you.” He was standing in front of you now, holding your hands in his. He brought one up to his lips, kissing your palm, then the inside of your wrist before guiding you to wrap your hand around his neck. “Every curve of your body,” his hands roaming up your sides now, “Merlin, I’m so obsessed with you.” His forehead rested against yours, noses brushing, “Don’t listen to her cruel words, because if I had it my way I’d worship you, every part of you, every night, every day.” He tilted your chin up, connecting his lips to yours. The kiss was soft, gentle, like he was breathing you in. He broke apart, a little sooner than you would have liked. He then walked around, climbing onto the bed behind you, “C’mere, let’s lay down. I wanna keep telling you how perfect you are.” His arms stretched out and you immediately climbed into his embrace. You spent the rest of the night like that, wrapped in his arms.

[hanahaki-disease]

I Asked, You Answered

Hell or High Water - Percy Jackson/DC crossover

Summary:

“Was he being manipulative? Maybe. Is this what Jason had told him to do when dealing with rich snobs? Yes, it was. Was it working?

“It was all going according to plan. “

To further enhance your reading experience, go and read “The other side of the Coin” from “Beyond the Farthest Reaches”

****************************************

Percy was prepared this summer when he came back to camp. His bag was thankfully not set ablaze by the laistrygonians in the gym, the metal ball only a foot away from his duffle and it was then that Percy realized all his luck for the summer had been used up before the summer even started. Already he’s had to deal with the fact that he almost got split in half by the blind sisters taxi, been given a cryptic set of numbers by said blind sisters, and almost set on fire by a mechanical bull terrorizing the camp and Tyson.

Oh, and Tyson was a baby cyclops and his half-brother.

Which, wow, that’s a lot to unpack and it’s only been one afternoon. But such is the life of a demigod.

He folded all the clothes he was able to pack into the drawers, pulling out the old musty ones that had been there for a year, and tossing them in the laundry basket to be washed at a much later date. The random shields and various weapons in the corner of his room should have been returned to the armory last year too, but then he got stung by a pit scorpion and it was time to go back to Gotham.

Speaking of Gotham—Percy dug to the bottom of the duffle, shuffling past rolled up socks and his Nightwing hoodie that he stole from Donna when he went to the Tower with Dick, and pulled out a plastic folder. It was an unassuming blue color with plastic clasps that kept it sealed tight, preventing any water damage. Inside were pictures of his family and friends back home. There was one of him and Dick going down the log flume at Six Flags for his birthday last year, one of Tim wearing a shitty Robin costume from when they were nine. A picture of Bruce, Jason, and Percy at his elementary graduation, big bright smiles on their faces as they smiled towards the camera.

There were some Gotham Gazette clippings too, the first article about Jason’s debut as Robin pinned right next to the Minotaur horn. One was a picture of Batman and Nightwing tangled up in some Joker cement silly-string that Robin and Batgirl had to free them from. He also had the one article about the Brentwood Academy Photography competition where Tim had won first place that year.

He pulled out the last picture in the folder, a copy of the one he had on his nightstand at home of him and Jason. When compiling all the pictures he wanted to take with him, he couldn’t leave this one behind. It was one of the best pictures of Jason he had, the rest already being hung up and framed along the various walls of the manor. Jason had gotten a Polaroid for his birthday one year from Dick, wanting to keep pictures of the things most important to him if anything were to happen, and it was Percy’s idea to take one of them together.

The Polaroid had been up in Jason’s room until his death, hung along the string on his bookshelf like the others. It had been the only time Percy had went into Jason’s room since. Not wanting the picture to get forgotten in the mausoleum dedicated to his brother.

“Hey, seaweed brain.” Annabeth leaned on the door frame, arms crossed and her curls pulled back into a ponytail. Her dagger was strapped around her waist, as was the extra she now carried because of the deteriorating border. It was mandatory now that everyone carry a weapon with them where ever they went. After the bull, they didn’t want to take chances. “What’re you doing?”

“Unpacking,” he answered and slid the picture in the empty frame on the beside table.

She came up next to him, reading the newspaper clippings, inspecting the pictures. It was easy to keep the rest of the camp in the dark about his adoptive family, they all knew him as Jackson and not Todd-Wayne. But Annabeth was smart, as all children of Athena were. She’d be able to look at the various pictures she had and the articles and piece it together where he went between summers.

If she realized anything, she didn’t say. Just nodding her head till her gaze found the one of him and Jason. The porcelain of the frame scrapped against the wood as she picked it up. It wasn’t a frame he would’ve picked himself, a regular black or wooden one would have sufficed, but this was the only one Cabin 3 had and he wasn’t going to push his luck by looking for more.

“Whose this?” She sat beside him.

“My brother, Jason,” he answered. “He…He died a year ago, I couldn’t leave without this picture.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “You look a lot like him. It’s weird.”

“Yeah, I know,” Percy kicked his duffle under his bed. He can sort the rest out later since the conch for dinner was going to ring anytime soon. “My teachers at school would call me by his name sometimes, as did my other brother and my adoptive father, but it hasn’t happened in a while.”

“Other brother? How many do you have?”

“Biologically or legally?”

“Is there a difference?”

“Yes, actually,” Percy unstuck the informal family portrait from the wall, and showed her the first of the two pictures in his hand. “The older man in the suit is our butler, but he’s more like a grandfather, his name is Alfred. Next to him is my adoptive dad and Richard, but he likes to be called Dick. And this guy next to me in this picture is Tim—” He held up a photo of the two of them from when they spent the memorial day weekend at Tim’s house, doing whatever they wanted. “He’s like my best friend.”

Percy watched as Annabeth placed the frame back on the table, careful of the priceless picture within, and took the other pictures from him. “Jason is my only biological brother, same mom and I’m assuming same dad since we look too much alike to have different dads. Tim was adopted by my adoptive dad a few months ago after his mom passed and his dad gave up custody to stay with his new wife. Dick, though, I think he’s still technically a ward, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he was given the adoption papers soon. Things have been going pretty okay with my adoptive dad and him lately.”

“Your adoptive dad is Bruce Wayne?” She asked after taking in all that in, her mouth dropping in shock when he nodded. “Why didn’t’ you say anything! You’re Wayne kid, what?!”

“That’s why I didn’t tell anyone,” Percy said. ‘I don’t people being all nice and trying to kiss my ass because my actual last name is ‘Wayne,” Percy stuck the pictures back on the wall. “I wanted people to be my friend because they like me, not because I have a trust fund, not that it did anything, by actual dad is one of the big three.”

He flopped backwards on the mattress, narrowly missing the wall and grunting after remembering how firm the mattress was. “And besides, I am not a rich kid. I grew up on the streets before I got adopted, we had a crate and everything.”

“A crate, really? Did Bruce Wayne just walk down an alley and find you and your brother in a crate and decide to bring you home like lost strays?” She joked.

“Yes, actually, that’s almost exactly how it happened.”

“What?”

“The only part you missed was that my brother tried to steal his tires and that’s how he got his attention by accident.”

“Huh?!”

—

Percy collapsed on the warm sand bank, out of breath and thankful to have survived another trip in the mortal world without adult supervision. Grover wasn’t fairing any better beside him. He was practically making out with the sand from how he was kissing it, glad to have returned to land. (Percy kinda wanted to stay out at sea for a while more but that was probably just the son of Poseidon powers messing with his head.)

Clarisse shook the sand and as much of the ocean water out of the fleece, the heavy material shifting to look more like a letterman than the shiny gold blanket they saw on the island. “Do you think we can make it to camp on time?”

“It’ll take too long if we all go, it’s better if you go alone,” Annabeth said.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” The daughter of Ares sassed. “I’ll go by myself with the beacon that is the golden fleece and attract all of the monsters along the east coast along the way. For a daughter of Athena, that wasn’t very smart of you.”

“Hey! I was just giving you a suggestion!” she retorted. “And we need to get the fleece back to camp soon otherwise the tree will die.”

“Unless any of us has a private helicopter readily available, it’s going to take us a while, wise girl!”

Percy shot up from where he lay. An idea swimming around in his head much like the jellyfish that was trying to cuddle up to him in the shallow water. He ran past Annabeth and Clarisse’s argument, trying to find the way past the cabanas and beach side shops. Behind him, he heard Annabeth and Clarisse shout for him, confusion easily lacing their voices.

Palmera city was a big place, parts of it belonged to the average citizens and others belonged to the city’s wealthy elites. That side of town was further south than they were, bordering the keys they were trying to take, but it was still a good sprint and a bus ride from where they were along the beach side. They tried to bombard him with questions, Clarisse shifting gears the second they got off the first bus, but if he answered them then he’d forget the name of the bank.

He made a promise to himself that’d never pull out money from his account while on a quest, he wanted to be able to do it by himself with only what he had and whatever he was able to scrape by. But this was too important. He just wishes he’s able to get out of the city before Bruce and them arrive. They’ll be notified that Percy had accessed his account as soon as he opens it. No doubt Dick will be told and he’ll zeta tube to Palmera with Batman on his heels, joining forced with Ted Kord to find the missing Wayne.

And as much as he loves that Dick will be ready and waiting to find him make sure he’s okay, and wanting to bring him home. Percy still has the rest of the summer to stay at camp. If he leaves now, that’s almost a month and a half of training that he might need for when they inevitably fight Kronos. Not to mention that Bruce will be demanding Percy to tell him everything, and he kinda doesn’t want to do that with the others with him.

“Okay, guys,” Percy says, leading them behind the dumpster in the alley across from the bank. It was a pretty sandstone building, terracotta roofs and big open windows into the lobby that reminded Percy of the Wayne Enterprises building. “Quick, how much do you think a flight from Palmera to New York costs, same day travel?”

“A grand, depending on airlines and available seats, why?” Annabeth says.

“I’m going to go in that bank, get the money for a ticket, and ship Clarisse back to camp with the fleece.” He flinched back when they began protesting. “I thought you said we needed to get the fleece back to camp pronto?”

“Not if that means you being a thief and stealing from a bank!” Clarisse whisper shouted.

“I’m not stealing from the bank, I have an account. I’ll pull the money from there, we buy the ticket and Clarisse saves the day,” Percy countered. “Trust me, okay? I know what I’m doing, and if I do it right, then we have to book it after we get Clarisse to the airport.”

“You promise we wont get in trouble for this?” Annabeth asks.

“I promise,” Percy said and cleaned himself off as much as he could before crossing the road. He had never been in the bank by himself, only going with Alfred or Bruce if they were doing errands. Normally he would be sitting at the waiting area while they conversed about something with an agent or a teller, he didn’t really know how it worked, but it shouldn’t be too hard, right? Right?

It was kinda hard.

The security guard was giving him a hard time before he had even made it past the door. And sure, he gets it, alright. He doesn’t exactly look like the type of kid to be getting their monthly allowance on their gold plated card, but he was able to open the door because his fingerprint allowed him access. It’d be pretty embarrassing if he made all those claims to the others only to be stumped by a door.

“Hi, I’d like to make a withdraw from my account please?” Percy gave the teller his best Wayne™ smile.

“Of course, may I have the account name and date of birth?” She asked.

“Perseus Todd-Wayne,” he placed his finger on the scanner watching in the reflection of her glasses his account pull up and notify Bruce where he was. The timer was ticking, he had maybe two hours max to get the money, tickets, and leave the city. “And I was wondering if you were able to help me purchase some airline tickets while I’m here? I missed my flight to New York with my brother and I dropped my phone in the ocean, so I can’t call him.”

“Oh, yes sir, let me go grab an agent to help you with that,” She smiled at him. “You may go and wait in the chairs and a representative will be able to help you shortly.”

“Is there anyway to have the process go a little quicker? I don’t want to scare my dad when the plane lands and I’m not on there.” Percy folds his arms over his chest, bowing his head a little a making his eyes water. He saw the teller’s expression change to shock at his theatrics. “After my brother passed, it really shook the family and I try not to make him worry too much.” Percy could feel the tear wipe away the remaining bits of sand on his cheeks and he cried. “Please, ma’am, I just want to go home to my dad.”

Was he being manipulative? Maybe. Is this what Jason had told him to do when dealing with rich snobs? Yes, it was. Was it working?

“I understand, Mr Wayne. I’ll do whatever you need to help you get home, leave it to me.” The teller steeled her expressions and began to pull up the American airlines website to browse through the availibilities.

It was all going according to plan.

Half hour later and his eyes red from “tears of relief and gratitude,” Percy walked out of the bank with a printed sheet with the ticket information and eight hundred dollars. The look of shock they had when he told them what happened faded as the car for Clarisse pulled up. He handed her four hundred for food and to trade for drachmas to call camp before turning back to Grover and Annabeth.

“‘Not a rich kid’ my ass,” Annabeth crossed her arms before walking back to the bus stop.

****************************************

We needed a little bit of a breather from the angst, and while there’s a wee little bit in the beginning, this was mainly a light hearted installment.

Also, stay tuned for the next update! We’re gonna have a lil visit with Jason :)

Previous | Masterlist | Next

[omg-gojo]

GAALEE PARENT TRAP AU "Marry me"

"What did you just said?!" Lee screamed covering his mouth when he realiced.

"We are getting married in the five nations peace cruise next month" he says as calm as he say it the first time. "We can make the arrengements with Kakashi. Unless, you... do not want to?"

To be honest when Rock Lee said i will marry you in any place at any time even right here and right now an event so important as THE event of the year, he would even dare to said of the decade, didn't crossed his mind for a second. But it didn't stop him from feeling light headed, warm spreading in his cheeks and butterflies filling his stomach.

"Of course i want to marry you! I won't step out of my word to you" he murmurs reminding himself that they are still here, in the cementery afterhours. He's been waiting here, like the first plan was. He looked at the gray plate above the grass. Just Neji as or witness for our vows, blood instead of rings because nobody should know and a passioned night at his place, so Gaara could pack his things and make his way back to Suna. "It's just that when you told me about mantaening the secrecy of our nuptial, doing it in a place with the most important people of all five nations was not in my list"

"It's not like they are invited anyway" Gaara expressed while crossing his arms.

Lee frowned in confussion "i don't follow..."

"We'll have our own wedding in the cruise while the rest of the guests are at the party" he kept explaining "in the middle of the celebration we'll slipt away for a few moments, get married and go back to the event without anybody noticing. Everybody would be so drunk not even the council nor the rest of people there could guess what just happened" a little smirked scape from the corner of his lips, that for anybody else would look like a grimace, but for Lee wasn't.

"Hmm, i don't know. I think you'll enjoy more the fact that you're doing it just under their noses than us ACTUALLY getting married" Lee joked while taking his lovers hands to pull him closer.

"It would only be a plus to it" exhaled. While remembered the words of Temari when he told her about his plan. Of course their families where the only ones that will know, eventually, right now just Temari. You imprudent rugrat! you maybe wear the hat of the Kazekage but you are still act like a child! No. Not that. Marriage is something you enjoy in a unique special way. No, im not talking about sex! Is a promise! to both of you and your families, that you'll be by each other side for the rest of your lifes taking care of what you'll built. So...are you gonna make it right?

....Or are you gonna do the Uchiha way? He squirmed at the mere thought. Right, he's gonna make it right, Lee deserved that. He squized Lee's hands for comfort "...One Day Suna will know the name of my husband, i'll prepare everything for that. But for now I wanna give you a wedding we and our families wont forget."

"Our families..." Lee's eyes went wide and shine as the moon above them. He won't leave his family for you, he will make you part of his.

"It'll mark a new beginning for the world and for us. Marry me" told him almost begging while getting closer to the tearing face of the leaf shinobi.

"Yes" Lee smiled.

"Remember, Metal, no weapons!" "Yes, Papa!" but seal rolls are not weapons

"Shit kiddo, we are gonna be late!" "I literally can teleport us there, uncle"

[mouchiiarts]

Okay I kinda wanna ramble about my "cosmic dragon au" as I'm dubbing it.

It's technically an au of my Mystreet rewrite however it is tied to @roxxie-spirt MCD rewrite. So, I recommend reading her lore about the divine warriors to kind of get an idea about my cracked au lol.

So, to start, all magic originally came from this primordial cosmic dragon named Mithora. She was originally from the Wyvern Dimension but her magic was so potent, it had been seeping into the overworld for centuries. She's an incredibly old dragon who is/was worshiped as a deity of magic (mostly by witches and such). When the wyverns came over, followed by Mithora who they recognized as their queen, many of the Divine Warriors became nervous. They, of course, began their wyvern hunting spree. Realizing Mithora would be a far more dangerous threat than the wyverns, they befriended her, intent on tricking her. To Mithora, she actually became very close friends with the Divine Warriors. Mithora was eventually betrayed by the DW, a special arrow of poison striking her heart. Although the poison didn't kill her (kinda difficult to insta kill a being as powerful as the source of all magic) it did permanently wound her. She was banished from the overworld via a portal spell and sealed away within her own dimension, unable to escape. The spell chaining her to the dimension would eventually wear off, but by the time it would, she'd be on death's doorstep.

Now for the actual character stuff; in this au, all of the mys characters are reincarnations of their MCD counterparts. This was done via intervention on Aphmau/Irene's behalf when she approached each of her friends (and enemies) when they died. She essentially offered them a second chance at life, although they would not remember anything of their previous life. When this happened and Aph stored the souls of the people who'd accepted her offer in the Irene dimension, Mithora was able to sneak into the Irene dimension while Aph was away. She chose Zane to be the next dragon and to take her place when her magic eventually ran out. She did this, not only because she was sympathetic towards Zane, who'd been robbed of his ties to magic as a half witch, but also as a big fat middle finger to Esmund who'd been the one to first kill a wyvern and the one who'd broken her heart by betraying her. (Mithora did have feelings for him but never mentioned them out of courtesy of his feelings towards Irene).

Well, because of Mithora's marking, Mys Zane ended up being very magically talented, even more than most children his age. By the time S3 rolls around, he's comfortable with his witch heritage and has tutored under Lucinda for some time. It's in s4 (so this would replace what happens in Emerald Secret) where Zane takes up the mantle of the new dragon.

Mithora, on her last ember of life, comes to Zane and explains what she has tutored him to do. (He's had dreams about her since he was a child and she'd teach him various things about magic). I imagine it would be this dramatic moment of Zane being called into the snowy woods, the snowstorm protecting him as he enters the woods but keeping the others away until it's over. So, he accepts, taking up the mantle and protecting magic. This is extra important because magic sustains nearly every facet of their world. Magic would also become far more powerful once Zane takes over since he'd essentially be restoring it to its original strength before the poison overtook Mithora and drained her of her magic.

Thank you for coming to my TEDTalk. I'll post more about my au when I have more lore to talk about hehe

[witchersmistress]

The road to Hell

Hello my darlings!! this man almost, ended back in the punishment room!

Trigger warnings: age gasp, foul language sassy FMC, forced marriage

Word Count: 2.7 K

Amelia’s POV

Your wedding day is supposed to be one of the most exciting days of your life. Just like my mother, I’m about to marry a man I didn’t choose and who I don’t love. I actually despise him and everything he represents—money, greed, and power are just a few of them. My mother hates my father, but there was nothing either one of them could do. Their fate was decided, their destiny sealed. Same as mine. Same as my children’s. And my grandchildren’s. We are bred for the sole purpose of power. Control in numbers. Fuck that!

Women in my world—the secret society of the Ravens—should not reproduce. I don’t want children. The cycle will end with me. It has to.  The Ravens will only find a way to use its members. They marry us off to ensure we add to their army. The next generation of Ravens and Ravenia will help them take over the world.  Phil though he was so smart and allowed me to see a  Raven approved Drs only, well the joke was on him, that particular doc, i saw his wife instead who was a fellow Ravenia and a Nurse practitioner. By the end of my first appointment, I had an IUD and that idiot was none the wiser. I’ll be damned if I allow them to have any say over a son or daughter I'll never have.

 I stand in the middle of the room, overlooking the white dress in the mirrored wall, running my hand down the mulberry silk—some of the finest silk available in the world. I take in a deep breath. It cost a whopping two million. Two million dollars for a fucking dress? My soon-to-be husband had it custom-made by a designer in France. I know this because my mother reminds me every chance she gets. Why would I get to pick out something so important in my life? That’s insane, right? Give that money to charity, or he'll let me loose in a bookstore, not that i could spend two million dollars but i'll try like hell.

 To think I should have any say in what I wear on the day I give my life to another. It’s as if she thinks his wealth will impress me. It’s blood money. I know this because it’s the same fortune I grew up with. I never did want the finer things in life. I know a poor person would roll their eyes at that statement, but it’s true. Give me a beer, a cheap hoodie, and a hat to hide my three-day old mop of bleach-blond hair, and I’m happy. But no. That’s unacceptable. The one percent aren’t allowed to look anything less than perfect. Not in public anyway. I’m surprised they even let us speak. We as women might as well walk around with duct tape over our mouths dressed in nothing but chains. A Raven needs a Ravenia but not because of the reasons you may think. It’s a way to hide who he really is. He’ll have fucks all over the world, but we’re expected to cook, clean, and spread our legs for him when he’s home. Worship him like he’s God himself and birth his children. I’ve never been religious, and I’m not going to fall to my knees and start worshiping a man now.  

My brother comes up behind me, his eyes scanning over my dress in the mirror. “At least he has good taste.” I roll my eyes. “As if that matters.” “Just pop out some kids and get fat.” He shrugs. “Then he’ll screw anyone but you. Oh! Hire a hot, much younger nanny.” He nods to himself. “Let me try her out first, though. Make sure she’s good enough.” His words just prove that all Ravens are the same. He’s been a Raven for years but has yet to marry. He has the privilege of fucking his way around the world while I’m forced to sign my life away. A cell rings, and he pulls it out of his tuxedo jacket to answer. “Hello?” Sighing, I pick up the dress and walk over to the stained glass window. You can’t see shit out of it. This place is ancient. The Cathedral is to a Raven as a church is to a religion—their sanctum. It holds a hundred years of secrets like a sarcophagus encloses a mummy. 

It was handed down to them years ago—a place to perform their sick and twisted rituals. There’s nothing fancy or special about it, if you ask me. I could be walking down the aisle in blue jeans and a T-shirt or lingerie. Doesn’t matter. Not all Ravens and Ravenia are required to wed here. But it’s where my future husband picked. Our parents wanted it to be as traditional as possible. It’s a bullshit reason. They just want to make a spectacle of handing me over to him. We might as well be standing in a courtroom with a judge sentencing me to life in prison without the chance of parole for a crime I didn’t commit. I place my hand on the cold glass, listening to the rain fall. It’s been storming for the past two days. It's like the world knows I've been destined for a lifetime of servitude to a man I'd rather kill than kneel and suck his dick. 

I blame my mother. She raised me to be strong-willed and determined. But now, I’m just supposed to turn it off and believe that I'm to devote my life to a man that will neglect me during the day but demand I spread my legs at night. I won’t accept that. I deserve more. I want more. My brother ends his call, getting my attention, and looks at me. “We have a problem,” he states. My whole life is a fucking problem. “What?” “Phil is missing.” I snort. “Don’t toy with me like that.” That’s not a problem; that’s a prayer answered. “I’m serious.” He swallows, looking around the large room nervously as if Phil’s going to appear out of thin air. “He’s not here. He never arrived. He’s also not at his house. He’s missing. No one has seen him.” “I’m not sure why that’s a problem.” I don’t want to marry the sick bastard. Phil Buxton is the highest-ranking Raven you can come by, which just makes this even worse. Ravens are like anything else in this world. You have some at the bottom, and others at the top. There are different tiers. 

But honestly, it doesn’t matter; they’re all sick fucking bastards who will kill anyone to get to where they are. Even the bottom feeders will destroy anything to get a chance at serving. He steps over to me. “Amelia …” The door opens, and my father enters with my mother. I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m guessing this good fortune has nothing to do with you two?” My mother’s injected lips seem to thin a tad at my comment. She’s told me a million times that this is just the life we live. That it’s a “tradition” and I just have to accept it. That as far as Raven and Ravenia goes, we’re royalty. Bull-fucking-shit. I’d rather be someone’s bitch than a Raven’s Ravenia. My father, however, stares at the floor while running a hand through his dark hair. “Daddy?” I step over to him, holding my dress in my hands so I don’t step on the hem. “What’s going on?” His throat works, swallowing before his eyes find mine. There’s a look of regret in them, and hope fills my chest. Maybe he’s realized that I don’t want this life. He clears his throat. “I just received a call …” “Please tell me you did this—called off my wedding?” I rush out, my words hopeful. “I’m sorry, Amelia, but the wedding is still on.” He sighs. And what little hope I had is now smothered. “But Dylan said Phil’s missing.” I point at my brother. Had my father received the same phone call that my brother did? Or was it someone else? “You are no longer to wed Phil.” He yanks on the collar of his tux. Picking up the dress so I don’t trip over it in my six-inch hooker heels—that my soon-to-be husband also picked out—I take a step back, my heart picking up speed. This is good news. Why does he look so concerned? “I don’t understand. If he’s not here—” “A new Raven has chosen you,” he interrupts me. My mother places her hand over her mouth, trying to quiet a sob. “No,” I argue. “That can’t be.” It was decided that Phil would be my husband when I was eighteen—three years ago. 

Things like this aren’t just changed at the last minute. I’ve lived the past few years preparing for this day. To be his wife. What he wanted. A Raven can’t choose to marry me, not when I’m already promised to another. “Who?” my brother demands. “Who in the hell would make this change?” He fists his hands at his sides. I reach up and grab the pearls my mother gave me. She thought they would give me some kind of comfort, and I laughed, but now I hold on to them as if they’re an anchor to a lifeline. “I—” The door swings open once again, this time hitting the interior wall and making me jump. A set of baby-blue eyes meet mine, and my stomach drops. The wind knocked out of me. I haven’t seen them in years, but they’ve haunted my dreams ever since.

Three years ago

 “Where is she?” my mother demands, entering the hospital. She received a phone call that my sister was brought in tonight, but no other information was given. “Ma’am—” “Where is my daughter?” she screams at the nurse, pounding on the check-in desk. I turn around to see my sister’s boyfriend walking toward us. His white T-shirt and jeans are covered in blood, and my chest tightens to the point it restricts my air. My mom’s legs give out when she sees him. “N-o,” she chokes, placing her shaking hand over her mouth. Walter catches her and holds her body to his, but his baby-blue eyes meet mine, sending a chill down my spine so cold, it’s paralyzing. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “She’s gone.” 

“Walter,” my brother growls, shoving me to the side and pulling me out of that memory, and steps in front of me.

[hizashisonlywife]

if this flops I'll give up and delete this, but I have started chapter 2 already.

CHAPTER ONE:

This was supposed to be the best day of Ballisters life. He would become a knight and finally prove to everyone that he wasn't a waste of time and resources. He ended up proving the exact opposite. He destroyed the glorodome and killed the queen. Worst of all,his own boyfriend cut off his arm! Now he was on the run, tired, shocked, bleeding and he’s the kingdom's most wanted criminal, but it wasn't his fault! Right? Someone sabotaged him or something, his sword, or, I guess his not-sword was switched. It was a laser, a laser that shot the queen. He doesn’t know who did this, but he’ll figure it out…he has to.

Everything hurts. He’s clutching his arm while he runs so as to not bleed out. That's the most important right now. If he bleeds to death he’ll never be able to prove his innocence. He’ll die with Ambrosius thinking he was a monster. After what felt like hours of running he finally made it to an abandoned tower deep in the forest. People in the kingdom never go in the forest. Thats where monsters lie, and you definitely never go alone. But Ballister had no where else to go. And maybe if he where here, the knights wouldn't search for him. 

The tower was tall and made of stone. The stone walls were cracked and some even had mold on it. There was a gate outfront and within the gates there was trash and scrap metal scattered all over. The insides were not any better. It smelt awful and the place was a shit hole. Papers everywhere and a couch that has holes all over. There were definitely bugs in this tower.

It wasn’t sanitary but it’ll have to do for right now. He needs a way to seal this wound, it would be better for him to stitch it up but there's no sewing supplies and Ambrosius just had to take his dominant hand. He has to go with the next best thing: cauterization. 

He grabs the supplies, in the corner of the room there was a gas stove, a knife, a rag, and some old alcohol that probably wasn't safe to drink. Ballister knew there was a risk he’d get an infection but it's a risk he’s willing to take. He heats the knife with the stove and takes the rolled up rag and shoves it in his mouth. He braces himself before pressing the hot metal to his stub. It hurts like hell, even with the rag screams escape his mouth. He can’t stop the tears from pouring down his face. He wants to stop but he knows he has to close the wound. He moves the knife to a different part of the wound and presses harder. This feels worse than the arm itself being cut off. At least then it was quick and he had adrenaline. But this feels never ending. After about 20 minutes he finished. It's uneven and he definitely burnt it badly but it's all sealed up. He grabs the alcohol and chugs it before falling to the floor. That's one less problem for him to deal with at least. After drinking some more bottles of alcohol he finally passes out.

The next day he begins to design an arm. Once he had an arm he could begin investigating the incident. The arm that he cauterized hurts like hell but he ignores it as best as he can. Over the course of a week he scavenged as many resources as he could. Scrap metal, wires, food, more alcohol, even some bandages. The pain of his arm has died down a bit, not completely though. He still drinks the pain of it away, and that's totally the only pain he's drinking away. Not any of the emotional trauma of killing your mother figure and your boyfriend mutilating you horribly. Definitely not. 

Ballister found a nearly empty journal that he could document evidence he found, his designs for his arm and just random writing he needed to deal with the stress of everything. It’ll be good to keep his ideas all in one place, and its like a form of therapy for him. Because once he clears his name he’ll definitely need it. He’ll just leave out the countless nights of crying, drinking, and crying again.

May 3rd

Its hard to write, since I’m using my left hand. I havent looked for any clues as to what happened that night. I think someone switched my sword, the squire was the last person before me to touch it. I don’t know why he would do something like that, but if it was him, I’m gonna figure it out. I dont know if me and Goldenloin are still…a thing. After this I doubt it. I’m gonna tell him it wasnt me. I know he’ll believe me. He’s the only person I know for sure will trust me.

He knows Ambrosius will believe him. They're- no, they were best friends- NO, they were boyfriends. For years. Ambrosius was the only person Ballister really trusted and vise versa. But what if Ambrosius doesnt trust him anymore. What if he really does think he’s a murderer. What if he’s currently looking for him, to arrest him…to kill him. No Ambrosius would never do that, he’s sure of it.

[db-gochifan]

It Took Just One Look

Pairing: Goten/Bulla Characters: Goten, Bulla, Pan, Vegeta and Trunks Summary: An accidental encounter and Pan's words were enough for Son Goten failing to keep Bulla Briefs out of his mind. Cross-posted on AO3 and FFN

“Uncle Goten, can I have those cool rollerblades you promised last year?” Seven-year old Pan asked excitedly as she walked to the kids’ store with Goten to buy her Christmas present that year. “It depends on how much is it, but we can see about it.” “Thank you.” “You still think about them?” “Believe it or not, they’re still a huge thing.” “Why? They are just rollerblades.” Goten placed his hands behind his head, walking very casually in the mall. “Eh… no. They have colorful wheels and they glow in the dark. It’s like the definition of cool.” “They are still only rollerblades to me.” “That’s because you’re old.” “Hey! I’m not old.” He protested. “I’m eighteen.” “Anyway, owing these rollerblades is basically saying you’re in the cool group of people. You have a lot of friends and get to do cool things.” “This is a bunch of crap, Pan.” He covered his hand the moment he realized he had said a swear word in front of his niece. “Block that out her mind or you father will kill me if he ever finds out I accidentally swore in front of you.” “Done.” She made a gesture over her mouth indicating her lips were sealed. “It’s not the first I hear these kinds of words though.” “Kids are so smart nowadays.” “Old.” “Anyway, are you parents okay with me buying them to you?” “Of course! They are totally okay with it.” “Panny.” “Ugh, I hate it when you call me that.” She rolled her eyes with annoyance. “No, they don’t know about it.” “And why not?” “Because they don’t want me to have one. They say it’s stupid to be in the popular group.” “Then you shouldn’t be getting one from me.” “Please, uncle Goten!” She begged. “I promise I don’t ask you for any other present.” “Why is it so important for you to look cool or have a bunch of friends? Most of them won’t even be your real ones. They’ll just pretend to because of your popularity. This is stupid and won’t last long.” “She looks popular.” “Who?” “Bulla.” “Pan, she’s much older than you and you shouldn’t be comparing yourself to her, it’s not good. Besides, you should be worried in playing after school or getting stronger. Isn’t it what you like?” “Yes, but…” “But what?” Goten raised his eyebrows and looked down at her. “Uncle Goten, if I tell you something, will you promise to keep it a secret?” “I’m not that good at keeping secrets.” “Ah.” Pan looked away, disappointed. “But I can try. What is it?” “I actually think these rollerblades aren’t that cool.” “Then why did you ask for them?” “Because my friends all have them and I don’t want to lose their friendship.” “Pan, if you need to have something you don’t want just to prove something to someone, these people aren’t your friends. No one should go through it. I’m sure your parents told you this already.” “Yeah, but they’re not into fighting like me.” “Maybe you can ask my brother and Videl to put you in a martial arts class then.” “That’s a possibility. I actually like that.” “Alright.” Goten reached for his phone in his pocket when it started ringing and pulled it out. “Mom is calling me. I’ll get this outside, okay? In the meantime, you can choose the rollerblades or whatever you want.” “Okay.” Goten sat on a bench in the middle of the hall to talk to his mother, but his eyes were focused on a blue haired woman window-shopping. Her haired already stood out on its own, but the knee-length red dress she was wearing made it very difficult not to see her. He was so distracted by Bulla that he didn’t even realize Chi-Chi had already hung up on him until minutes later. “Hello, Bulla.” He tried to get her attention when he was some feet away from her. “What are you doing here?” “Goten, hi!” She gave him a bright smile. “I’m just doing a last-minute Christmas shopping for my dad.” “You’re buying a Christmas gift for Vegeta?” “That’s right.” She nodded. “Believe it or not, it’s quite hard to shop for him. But I figured I’d get him another black sleeveless shirt, since he wears them a lot lately. He already has a bunch, but he refuses to wear other colors besides black, very dark red and blue, sometimes.” “Yeah, light colors don’t suit him anymore.” Goten bit his lower lip. “Do you need any help with something? I can help you carry some bags.” “It’s alright, thank you. They’re not heavy at all.” “Alright then. So…” “Uncle Goten.” Pan screamed from the entrance of the store. “I already chose what I wanted.” “I see you’re shopping with Pan today, huh?” “I promised her last year I’d get these trending rollerblades, so…” “That’s sweet. You’re a good uncle.” Bulla smiled softly. “Well, I have to go before my father calls me asking me why I’m taking so long to go back.” “Right.” He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a little embarrassed. “But you should stop by Capsule Corp some time. I’m sure Trunks would love to see you. That’d help him get his mind off work for a while.” “He’s focused on it a little too much, huh?” “A little is an understatement. He’d work 24/7 if he could, but mom won’t let him thankfully.” “Geez.” “Exactly.” “Alright, I’ll make sure to stop by at some point and knock some sense into him.” “Great! So see you around.” “See you.” He turned around and watched her leave in a hurry. “Come on, uncle Goten!” Pan said loudly and waved her hands frantically as he walked closer to her. “Did you ask Bulla out?” “No, and I’m not going to.” “Why not? She likes you.” “I’m her brother’s best friend. Of course she likes me.” “That’s not what I mean.” She rolled her eyes with annoyance and Goten couldn’t help but think it was the exact same way Gohan did with him when he said something very absurd and unreal. “I’m only a child, but even I see the way she looks at you.” “Okay, Panny.” He picked her up and placed her over his shoulders, causing her to giggle happily. “Enough of this, alright?” “Sure!” “Also, I want you to promise me something.” “Hmmm.” “Promise me you won’t tell your parents I left you alone for some minutes.” “Uncle Goten, I can take care of myself.” “I know, and you would have probably beaten whoever tried to harm you up.” “And I’m not supposed to lie to my parents. They say it’s a bad thing.” “And they are right.” “Are you afraid daddy will beat you up?” “No, I think I can fight him equally. Or almost.” Goten looked up at his niece. “Alright, show me where these rollerblades are.” **** A few days had gone by since then. Goten was flying his way over to the Capsule Corp to visit Trunks. He looked down a couple of minutes before landing and spotted Vegeta doing his daily training outside. He couldn’t help but notice the difference of clothing, since he was only wearing his usual sleeveless black shirt and leather pants, whereas Bulla was wearing two or three layers of clothes. He wondered if it was something from only pure-blood Saiyans, because he was freezing. “You better have not stopped training like your brother did when he became a scientist.” “He’s an entomologist.” Goten rubbed the back of his neck and turned to them. “And don’t worry, I’ve been training every single day.” “Whatever.” “Hello, Goten. It’s nice to see you actually kept your word.” “Hmmm…” Vegeta looked at his daughter and then to the youngest Son family member with a death glare. “Have you met my daughter recently?” “I… I’m gonna see if Trunks is around. See you later.” “Stop.” “Dad, please.” Bulla intervened. “We ran into each other at the mall by accident. He was buying Pan’s Christmas’ present, right?” “That’s right.” “Is that so? So you’re not… how do young people say? Seeing each other? Hooking up?” “You using these slangs to look cool is as worse as your mustache.” “What?!” “Enough training for the day.” Bulla pushed her father inside. “You might want to put on some warm clothes before mom calls you out.” “No one tells me what to do.” “Get inside now.” “Fine.” Goten let out an awkward laugh after the pure-blood Saiyan disappeared from view. “I’m sorry about that.” “It’s okay. He’s just being a father after all.” “I guess so.” She shrugged. “Are you coming in?” “Yeah, yeah.” He shook his head and followed her. “I gotta talk to your brother. If he still remembers me.” “Don’t be silly. How can anyone not remember you?” “It can happen, believe me.” “I doubt it. Well, there’s something I need to do, so I’ll see you later maybe.” “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” “It’s alright. Trunks is in the office, if you want to see him.” “Great. Thank you. See you later.” Goten couldn’t keep his eyes away from Bulla as she walked away. Pan’s words to him the other day came back into his mind and for a moment he actually thought they could be true. But then he remembered she was only seven and might have confused things up. Eventually he shook his head and went to the lab of the Capsule Corp, the place where Trunks spent most of his time, especially with his mother. “Can I come in?” He popped his head through the door and came across a shirtless Trunks fixing a time machine, or so Goten thought. “Of course! Here I thought you’d never show up again.” “Don’t be ridiculous. You’d never get rid of me. You could always go visit me at Mount Paozu though.” “I know, man. It’s just… things have been a little chaotic over here lately. Mom decided to work less and you know what that means: more work for me.” “That sounds like a lot.” “Nah, it sounds worse than it actually seems. Besides, it’s so fun it doesn’t seem like work to me.” “Still, you could use some help.” “From who? Grandpa is too old for it now, mom wants to do other things, dad is only interested in training all day or calling me out for not doing the same and Bulla simply don’t care about Capsule Corp at all.” “That’s tough, man. I’m very sorry.” Goten bit his lower lip for a moment. The words escaped his lips before he could even control them. “But, hey, I can help you out if you want.” Trunks was caught by surprise at first, but went back to his task when his words sank in. “Are you sure?” “Of course! It’d be good to have a job and be able to be more financially independent, you know?” “Wait a moment, are you expecting to have a salary?” The gray-haired half-Saiyan teased his best friend. “Well, yeah. It would be a job after all.” Goten replied unsure. “I didn’t say anything about it.” “Oh.” He didn’t know what to say in this situation, so he thought silence was the way to go. Trunks, on the other hand, burst into laughter, which made the brunette have a confused look on his face. “I was just messing with you.” “You bastard!” He threw a punch on his friend’s forearm. “It’s hilarious how you always fall for this. Of course you’d get paid for your job. When can you start?” “As soon as you need.” “Great! Can you start on Monday?” “Absolutely.” “Then it’s settled. I’d love to talk more, but I really need to finish this here.” “Of course. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” “Don’t be stupid, you could never disturb me. We should hang out together soon.” “Definitely. Give me a call whenever you’re free.” “Got it. I’ll see you soon.” “See you. Try not to have a serious accident.” “Please, safety is my middle name.” **** Goten was making his way out of Capsule Corp when he saw Bulla again, walking down the hall. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then walked in his direction again. “Hello again, Bulla. I was just on my way out, so see you soon.” “Goten, can you wait a moment?” She asked before she could even think and blushed a little. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing, I just wanted to give you something I bought.” “You bought me something?” “It’s just a small gift for Christmas. Well, belated Christmas.” She put a lock of her long blue hair behind her ear. “I bought it on the day we ran into each other at the mall.” “Wow, Bulla, I didn’t get you anything.” “Oh, I know. I just thought of you when I saw it and I just had to buy it. Come on, I’ll walk you out and give it to you.” “Alright.” He followed her outside. He didn’t know exactly how to react to the whole situation. Maybe Pan was right all along. Maybe she did like him after all. He wasn’t really sure about what do to with that new information though, and anxiety was starting to get the best of him. “So here you are.” Bulla turned to him and handed him a square package wrapped up in a silver paper. “It’s very simple, but I hope you like it.” “That’s very thoughtful of you, Bulla. I’m sure I will.” Goten carefully started wrapping it and came across a pair of wristbands that matched his orange gi. “Wow, those are amazing! Thank you so much!” “I’m glad you liked them. I have to admit I was feeling very anxious about your reaction. I had no idea if you were going to be happy about it and I couldn’t ask anyone, so…” “These are perfect.” He gave her a smile. “I promise I will give you a present too.” “You don’t have to, it’s totally fine.” “I want to.” He insisted. “Alright then. I can’t wait.” She pressed her hands together excitedly and then looked over her shoulder. “Well, I should get back inside and stop my father and brother from pushing themselves over the edge.” “Yeah, they do that quite often.” “So I’ll see you soon, I guess.” Bulla walked to him and kissed him on the cheek before walking away. “Hey, Bulla.” “Yes?” She looked over her shoulder. “Would you like to go out with me some time?” “I’d love to.” She flashed him a beautiful smile and continued her way inside her house.

[vultruntrash]

The Plan

Hey, yo, been a hot minute eh?

Me? Hyperfixations and work. Not Voltron related.

What IS Voltron related, however, is some ideas I've been having.

I still have all of my research notes from back during the binge sessions, as well as the timeline and canon event logs. Still waiting on the dvd release for seasons 7 and 8, but at this point, I'm just assuming that's not going to happen; which makes me sad because dvd releases would have more goodies to look through (And I like my dvd goodies)

So, what's The Plan?

I haven't gotten anything in a document yet, they're all still disjointed scenes floating around in my head. It's essentially a rewrite. A script, moreover, honouring the showrunner's ultimate decisions in the series and justifying them with character growth and development. With some notable changes. And some expanded explanations of included elements.

Zarkon still dies. The first time. The Robo-version is a corpse puppet.

Allura and Lance still end up together. And it's believable.

Shiro still retires. And gets together with whatshisbucket, but doesn't marry yet.

Keith still comes into his own as a leader.

Lance grows as a Second, and starts taking others, and himself, more seriously.

Pidge is still a gremlin and Hunk is still a cinnamon roll.

Some of the more notable changes I'm planning out are actually some of the more important instances of the series that I feel could have been handled much better than they had been.

Allura's apology, for one, is an actual apology; and is moved to much later in the series to after Shiro's disappearance. It's a quiet moment, with nothing on the line, and most importantly it's something she does on her own.

Keith's decision to leave Voltron to work with the Blades of Marmora is related to how weird Kuron is acting. Keith knows something is up, but he doesn't know what, but he DOES know that he's more likely to find out working with the Blades. The private conversation with Lance is still originally Lance wanting to give up being a Paladin, but becomes Keith revealing his suspicions and asking Lance to watch over everyone and keep them safe while he's gone.

The Zarkon Fight at the end of season one has more thematic appropriateness, added to later when the team is attempting to get back to earth as soon as possible and go one that "vision quest" to unlock ftl travel. The 'fight your predecessor' scenes are going to be added in as the Paladins are being submitted to a final trial before officially achieving full control of their lions.

Adding on to that, the fight at the end with Haggar is not a multiverse-traversing mess, but a "battle in the center of the mind" that ultimately ends with Allura sealing herself and Haggar together until one of them is defeated. This is done with the knowledge that, regardless of who wins, there's not really a way to escape.

Spoiler alert: Allura wins. And escapes. And finds her way to the Paladins somehow. How? Something something Altean Magic, idk.

The final change I wanted to talk about is at the very end of the series. When the Lions reactivate and leave the planet, the Paladins are piloting this time. This is to symbolize that, though the conflict is over, their job is still not done. They've earned their place as the Paladins of Voltron, and in doing so have vowed to defend the universe from any that wish to harm it's inhabitants.

So, it's a lot, right? It's a lot.

I make no promises if or when anything will be written, but after seeing the reblog about how quickly it came and went, it makes a little more sense why things were the way they were and it continues to leave a bad taste in my mouth to know that. So I wanted to share the plans I've been very slowly chipping away at for a while now. I've got enough on my plate between work, my comic, my other fics, and commissions, that Voltron hasn't really been a priority.

I'll try to start writing things down and post snippets now and then, but do bear in mind that this isn't a full fic, or a narrative, or a webcomic. It's a script. Written with the full intention of taking pre-existing clips and rearranging them to match. Complete with scene calls, expression and read notations, and a sound track.

So forgive me for being reluctant to want to dive right in

[fallen-regentarc]

                  It's   almost   instinctive   for   her   to   roll   her   eyes   at   him      ,      to   show   annoyance   at   the   way   that   he   handles   everything      &      how   he   seems   to   speak   as   if   everything   needed   to   be   explained   with   some   grandiose   verbiage      .      but   she   is   there   for   a   reason      &      she   had   to   quell   her   annoyance   for   the   time   being      ,      at   least   until   she   is   able   to   break   the   sireline      .      Davina   doesn't   believe   him      ,      doesn't   believe   in   his   facade   of   saying   that   he   is   forgiving      ,      instead   she   believes   that   he   allows   himself   to   ignore   his   paranoia   for   one   person   long   enough   to   increase   it   for   another   person      .  

               but   he's   continuing   to   talk      ,      to   speak   about   how   he   has   come   out   on   top   against   all   the   victors   he   went   against      &      she   can't   help   but   scoff   at   him      ,      shaking   her   head   as   she   made   her   way   to   the   table      ,      heels   clicking   against   the   concrete   under   her      .      '      you   only   survive   because   your   family   interferes   every   time         &      lets   not   forget   that   i've   had   plenty   of   people   underestimate   me      ,      try   to   take   me   down      ,      but   i'm   still   here      .      '

                  '      You   aren't   my   knight   in   shining   armor   ,   Klaus      ,      i   don't   need   you   to   talk   yourself   up   to   me      .      i   know   what   you're   capable   of      .      '      the   witch   is   looking   over   the   figurines      &      can't   help   but   wonder   why   he   would   use   the   Queen      &      King   for   this   parents      ,      why   he   had   seen   them   as   such   high   nobility   in   his   mind      .      '      you   need   to   change   what   they   represent   in   your   mind   before   you   move   forward      .      '      arms   are   crossed   over   her   chest   as   she   looks   at   the   pieces      &      then   up   at   the   hybrid      .

                  '      your   father   would   be   the   rook      ,      a   powerful   force      &      can   be   taken   down   if   it's   not   used   properly      .      '      she   takes   the   rook      &      places   it   on   the   board      &      replaces   the   queen   with   the   king      .      '      your   mother      ,      one   of   the   most   important   pieces   on   the   board      ,      but   not   the   most   powerful      .      you   trap   her      &      it's   checkmate      .      '      there   was   no   need   for   her   to   say   any   of   this      ,      to   try   to   overstep      &      rename   the   pieces   that   his   parents   were   on   the   board      ,      but   maybe   if   he   saw   them   as   something   other   than   a   powerful   force      ,      a   united   front      ,      when   it   seems   they   aren't      ,      it'll   be   easier   to   take   them   down      .

                  '      put   your   paranoia   away   for   a   moment      ,      stop   worrying   about   what   she   is   putting   in   her   head      &      start   thinking   about   the   boundary   spell      .      I   could   get   in      ,      it   won't   be   sealed   off   for   me   as   I   am   not   known   to   be   your   ally      ,      she   may   even   consider   me   as   being   on   her   side      .      '

    THE WITCH HAD VALOR, IF NOTHING ELSE. He'd punished people for saying far less than she had now. However, ego took no precedence in the face of his enemies. Much to his discomfort, Davina was a powerful alliance. Rebekah remained hidden with his child, and although Hayley was strong, she would die if faced with his foes. "Although I am selfish Davina, I'm also forgiving. You forget this may quickly turn into a one-man battle." He inched closer to her, careful in his proximity. "I've stood against many who've called for my death before. You stand now with their victor; you'd do well to remember that." He delighted with a smile.

    "NOW," he clapped his hands, making way towards the central table, "onto business, shall we?" Klaus gestured towards the scattered figurines, taken from his brief stay at the plantation. Each piece represented a key figure in their war. The Queen — his mother; the King — his father. "The cemetery is cast under a boundary spell. Knowing mother, it won't be easily broken. I've received intelligence from a member of Hayley's pack, and I believe Esther has them under a trance of some kind. There's no telling if she's trying to get inside their heads to turn them against me or not." His features turned cold. Esther wanted nothing more than to tear them apart from Klaus. As hateful as his mother is, she may very well get her way.

[wildflowerdylan]

MARBLES

PART ONE - PART TWO

Pairing : Richie Boyle x Reader

Warnings : 18+ content, mentions of domestic violence (please read with caution), violence, mentions of needles, and cursing.

Concept : Chicago in the 1950s - riddled with organized crime and mobsters. There were two main families - The Lafontaines and The Boyles. The Boyles were the most powerful family in Chicago, known and envied by everyone. They had deals with the police and with every business on their half. Most importantly, they had Y/F/N Taylor. Y/F/N was the only daughter of Maxwell Taylor - a very important business man in Chicago and New York, otherwise known as the key to winning over Chicago and ending the other mob family for good. The Taylors were very consistent in never steering too close to one side over the other. Mr. Taylor knew his place and liked being catered to by two sides of the organized crime trade.

There’s a loud, pounding knock on the door. Mr. Burling, the shop’s tailor, looked up, wiping his face for a moment before standing up and walking towards the door. He looks at the desk that is typically occupied by the young girl with the abusive, power hungry father. It was empty as it always is after 5:00 PM. He smiled slightly, reminiscing on the kindness she brought to the shop once her father let her have a piece of his monarchy. Burling peeked through the window to see Richie wrapped around Francis. He opened the door quickly and let the two angry mobsters in.

“Get him on a table! He’s been shot!” Francis says, pulling the boy covered in blood into the backroom. Francis swings the boy on the table with the help of Mr. Burling, but not without the shouts of an increasingly angry Richie. “Sir, he needs a doctor.” Burling says upon examining the boy. Francis shakes his head, “Fuck no. There are a thousand blue boys outside. We have to stay here.” Burling shook his head, holding pressure on Richie’s body. “He’s losing too much blood and there is no way to tell if there is internal bleeding or not. Master Richie needs a doctor. The wound needs to be sealed.” Francis shakes his head again. “Sew him up.” Burling looks at the boy with shock. “I can’t” Francis pulls his gun out and cocks it back, pointing it at Burling. “You’ve got a needle and thread. Sew him up,” Burling shakes his head softly, knowing this can’t be a good idea. He gets Francis to grab the cloth and apply pressure as he goes and grabs a needle, thread, and a bottle of whiskey to sterilize the wound and needle with. Francis continues to hold the gun onto the older man. “Fuck no. Get the fuck away from me.” Richie says as he watches Burling pour the liquor on the needle. Burling ignores the boy, pouring the alcohol on his wound next. “Fuck!” Richie shouts loudly. Francis grabs the boy and holds his mouth shut for a moment, shushing the young man. Burling looks at the situation with worried eyes, still in belief that this is a bad idea. “Let’s go!” Francis shouts at the older man, swinging the gun up and down. Burling nods his head softly, preparing to put the needle in as Richie protests. Just as the needle is about to pierce Richie’s skin, Y/N walks in.

“What the hell is going on in here?” She says from the other room, looking at all the blood on the floor. “Miss Taylor, I suggest you stay-” Y/N cuts Burling off, “Oh my God!” She walks over to Richie’s side, taking Francis’ spot to hold pressure on his wound. He looks over at her with a soft smile. “What did you do?” She scolds. “He got shot because he was too fucking slow.” Francis speaks, still pointing a gun at Burling . “Francis, I suggest you put that gun down.” He scoffs at her, “Not until he sews Richie shut.” The girl looks at Richie, who looks pissed, before looking back at Francis. “Put the gun down and he will.” Francis rolls his eyes, “Why don’t you act like a good girl and shut the fuck up, Y/N.” Richie groans, “Just put the fucking gun down, you prick.” Francis listens and sets the gun down, but not without attitude. He walks out of the room shortly after, deciding to keep watch instead of dealing with everyone else. Y/N nods softly at Burling to continue whatever was happening and Burling agrees reluctantly. “I need you to hold him down.” The older man nods softly, she nods her head once before looking at Richie with soft eyes. A small tear drops down her cheek catching the boy’s eye. “I’m gonna be okay, doll.” The girl nods with a soft smile, moving to hold his arms down. “Let’s do this, English.” Richie huffs, speaking his endearing nickname for Burling.

Burling sticks the needle through Richie’s wound a couple of times as Richie hollers out and thrashes around slightly. He has a soft spot for Y/N, but he was still beyond pissed at the situation. The girl held him down the best she could, but soon was able to let go when the boy passed out from the pain. “Help me turn him over?” Burling spoke quietly, motioning for Y/N’s help. She nodded once and pushed him onto his side, seeing the much bigger wound as the bullet had gone straight through the boy. Burling proceeded to sew that hole up much easier than the front hole. He then helped wash off the blood surrounding the wound and then left him to rest on the table with his back against the wood. Burling looked over at the girl who had now realized the extent of blood that was all over her - something that she had never experienced before.

Burling progressed towards Y/N slowly, “Y/N?” He spoke softly. “Y/N?” He said again. She looked up at him as if he had snapped her out of her thoughts the second time. “Y-yes?” He tilted his head in sympathy, “Are you alright?” She nodded her head once, keeping her eye on the blood. “I just- I’ve never seen so much blood.” He nodded his head once. “Let me get something for you to clean up with.” She looked back up at him with a soft expression, nodding to say thank you.

“Burling!” Francis called out suddenly, bringing in a briefcase into the stage area where men could try on their newly made suits and buy accessories. Burling walked out of the bathroom with a wet towel, handing it to the girl who was still just standing in the doorway of the backroom where Richie laid. Burling walked out to Francis, past the girl. 

“Yes, sir?” He asked politely, his thick British accent flooding the room for a moment. “I need you to watch this case well. If anything happens to it I shoot you and I shoot her.” Burling looks back at the young girl. “Sir, I don’t think I am the best choice to watch this.” Francis shakes his head. “I have to get out of here and make sure everyone made it out that could. I can’t take Richie and I can’t take the case.” Burling shakes his head again, “Sir, I am just a tailor. I am not-” Francis cuts the man off and slamming his gun into Burling's head, “Watch it or else.” Y/N turns around to look at the two men. “We’ll take care of it, Francis.” The two men look at her quickly. “Great. I’ll be back when I can. We have extra business to take care of.” Y/N steps forward, “What other business do you have here?” He scoffs, “Nothing that concerns you.” She shakes her head, “Then I guess this briefcase doesn’t concern me either.” Francis looks at the stubborn girl with anger. “Fine.” He walks forward and opens the case. There are three tapes in it. “News got to us about a rat. We need to figure out who that rat is. On top of that, resources are telling us that your father is about to pick sides and it isn’t ours.” The girl perks up, “Says who?” He shrugs. “Says the rat.” The girl looks at him with furrowed brows. “So, unless you can change your daddy’s mind, I suggest you just watch the case and fuck off.” Francis turns to walk towards the door, but it stopped again. “Francis.” She says, catching his attention. “I don’t want him to pick the Lafontaines anymore than you do.” He nods his head once in solidarity. “Let’s get this fucking rat, then.”

“What do we do now?” Y/N sighed, her chest pounding. “We just wait and hope that no one comes in.” She nodded her head softly as she moved to sit next to Burling. He sat in one of the leather chairs in the staging area turned study, sewing the sleeve onto a suit he had been working on for the past week and she was in the one right next to him, reading. The two sat like that for about an hour before a rustle came from the back room.

“Hi,” Richie smiles lightly. Burling got up quickly, pulling a chair over for Richie to sit in next to them and asking if the boy wanted a glass of water. Y/N stood up with him, insisting that the older man continue to sew as she grabbed those things for Richie herself. 

Once everyone was settled in their seats again, Y/N opened her mouth. “So, Rich,” He snapped his head over to her, knowing well enough by now that her calling him ‘Rich’ usually meant something he wasn’t gonna like to hear was about to follow. “Francis told us about the rat and about my father.” Richie sighed, “Now why the hell would he tell you that.” The girl shrugged, keeping her eye on her book casually. “I made him.” He scoffed angrily, his voice sort of raising, “Y/N/I, you know I don’t want you apart of this shit!” Burling sat there quietly, listening to the conversation and feeling calmed that Richie at least seems to care about the girl enough to save her from the business her father was actually in. “Richie, I can’t just stand by and watch everyone I love get pulled into this and just do nothing!” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, already finished with this argument. Richie looks over at Burling and decides to change the conversation - something that Y/N hated, “Hey, English?” Burling looked over at the young man. “Thanks for fixing me up.” Burling nods his head, “Of course, Sir. But you still need a doctor’s look.” Richie nods once, “Well, you at least prolonged my life for now.” The two smile in unison before turning back to what they were doing before. 

“Richie.” Y/N says after a few moments of the boy clearly avoiding the conversation with her. “I’m not having this conversation with you, Y/N/I. Now, can you go fetch me a cigarette, please?” The girl looks at him with an angry look before standing up and walking over to the cigarette box. She pulls out one of the small, thin white sticks. She walks back over to Richie, standing behind him and putting the cigarette in his mouth. She grabs a lighter from the man’s suit jacket, still behind him, and pops the trigger to light the tube. He breathes in the smoke, exhaling it softly. The girl walks back over to the cigarette box, walking it over to Burling to silently ask if he wanted one. The older man shakes his head no and smiles at her compassionately. She then walks it back over, setting it down in the spot she got it from. The girl then waltzes herself back to the chair that was right next to Richie’s and she sits down. The whole time, Richie’s eyes never left her body. 

“Fine.” The man groans, causing both people to look at him. “What?” The girl asks innocently. Richie rolls his eyes, tapping off the cigarette into the nearest ashtray. “There is a rat. We don’t know who it is, but they’re trying to sell information to the Lafontaines. That’s what two of the tapes are. The other tape is about your father” Y/N sat up excitedly in her chair, “Okay, okay, so what are we gonna do when we find who it is?” Richie looks over at the girl suddenly, “We aren’t going to do anything.” The girl huffs, “God, Richie, why can’t you just let me be a part of your business.” The man shakes his head, “Y/N/I, I’m not excluding you because I don’t think you're capable. I’m excluding you because I don’t want you to fucking die.” The girl furrows her eyebrows softly. She goes to open her mouth to respond, but Richie doesn’t let her. “No, I don’t want to hear you argue anymore about it. I’ll let you in on the secrets, but I-I- You’re not a killer, Y/N/I, and I won’t let you become one.” The girl moves her gaze down to the floor softly. “Okay,” She nods, finally realizing what Richie has been trying to say this whole time. 

“Well, what about my father?” Richie looks over at Burling for a moment. “Burling hates him just as much as I do, Richie. You can trust him.” Richie looks over at her for a moment before nodding. “Rumor has it that your pops wants to throw us out and become a full time partner of the Lafontaines.” Y/N shakes her head, “Richie, my father would never do that. He hates nothing more than losing the upper hand and giving into one side over the other is doing just that.” Richie nods his head, “I know.” Y/N looks over at Burling for a moment, confusion written across her face. “You know?” Richie nods again. “Y/N/I, I made the rumor up.” Y/N looks over at the boy dumbfoundedly. “What?” He twirls the cigarette between his fingers. “Don’t be mad-” Richie starts, but quickly gets cut off. “Don’t say something that will make me mad then.” Richie looks over at her with tension. “I did it because I knew the rumor would start trouble for your pops.” Y/N furrows her eyebrows again. “And the trouble might, well, it might get your pops killed, Y/N/I.” Y/N’s eyes went wide. “Richie! You-you-” The boy stood up and walked to crouch in front of the girl. “Y/N/I, your father is a horrible man and that says a lot coming from a guy like me.” The boy looked all over her face as he grabbed her hands and held them tight. “I can’t stand to see him hit you or your mother again. So, I did what needed to be done.” The girl looks at him almost in tears. “Richie, what if-what if my father finds out it’s you?” Richie looks at the ground for a moment. “That’s why we have to be very delicate about the situation and about that briefcase over there.” Richie pointed his cigarette towards said case. The three of them looked at it carefully before Richie went back to his seat and Burling went back to sewing.

Y/N sighs as she stands up and walks towards the case. She clicks it open, earning a sudden glare from Richie. “Y/N/I, leave it alone.” The girl looks back over at the boy pathetically. “Come on, Richie,” The girl whines. He looks over at her sternly, standing up and holding his wound. “What’s in here that’s such a big deal?” Richie sighs, grabbing two of the tapes out with a black line drawn on them. “These will tell us about whoever the fuck has been ratting on us.” Richie grabs the last tape, “And this will tell your pops who’s been ratting on him.” Y/N nods, grabbing the tape from him. “And that rat is you?” Richie nods reluctantly, “Sort of, but not really.” She looks at him to urge him to continue. “I didn’t rat on him as much as I…” The boy trailed off uncomfortably. “As much as I put a hit on him.” Y/N looked back at the tape. “So, why don’t we just destroy it?” Richie takes the tape from the girl, “Because I have a feeling I know who the rat is and I think this tape is going to help me confirm that.” He takes the tape and walks it over to Burling.

“Say, English?” The older man looks up kindly, “Yes, Master Richie?” Richie holds out the tape towards him, “Can you hide this somewhere? I don’t want Y/N/I or I to know where it goes.” Burling grabbed the tape and nodded his head. “Head to the front room. I’ll get you when I've found my spot.” Richie nods his head, grabbing Y/N’s arm, and walking quickly to the front. 

Maybe twenty minutes later, Burling lets the couple back into the middle room. They all sit back down in their original seats and stay silent. Richie is smoking, Y/N is reading, and Burling is sewing. It went on like that for almost an hour until the buzzer went off. Burling looked over at Richie, waiting for permission, and then walked to open the front door. There popped out Francis.

“English, how’s Richie doing?” Burling locks the door quickly and follows Francis into the back. “Richie.” Francis greets, ignoring Y/N’s presence as a whole. Richie looks at the man emotionless. “I found a tape player,” Francis informs as he walks towards the briefcase. Richie stands up and walks towards him as well. Francis snaps the case open and investigates the tapes slowly. “Where’s the third tape?” Richie puts his hands in his pants pockets, “What third tape?” Francis licks his lips, turning angrily towards the man with the dark slicked back hair. “Richie, don’t play with me right now. Where’s the fucking tape?” Richie shrugs his shoulders, “I think that’s for me and my pops to know only.” Francis shakes his head, chuckling to himself angrily. “Fine. I’ll just take these now and go.” Richie steps forward and slams the case back down on the table. “Or we could wait for my pops.” Francis turns to the man angrily. “Richie, I’m doing this for your pops. Now let me go take them to the tape player.” Richie nods his head smugly. “I’m sure my pops will be here any moment.” Francis shakes his head impatiently, grabbing his gun from his pocket and pointing it at Richie. “I’m taking these tapes or I’m shooting.” Richie rolls his eyes, grabbing his gun out just as quick and pointing it at Francis. “I suggest you wait for my pops, you fucking prick.” Francis scoffs, lining the gun at Richie’s head. Richie stays still, playing it as cool as he can while still worrying about Y/N. The girl moved slowly towards the third drawer furthest away from her. She moved as unnoticeably as she could and she was seemingly getting away with it. 

“Put the fucking gun down, Francis.” Richie demands. “Give me the case.” Francis retorts. The two were truly at a loss. Nothing was going to change unless someone comes in or someone shoots. “You know what?” Francis begins suddenly. “I have two tapes to destroy and one to deliver.” He shrugs his shoulders and smirks devilishly at Richie’s knowing face. “So, I don’t have fucking time for this.” Francis cocks his gun quickly and then two shots go off. 

Burling runs over to Y/N quickly, grabbing her as she falls to the ground - Richie doing the same. “Y/N/I?” Richie says, holding her and pulling the gun away from her. Burling grabs it quickly and puts it back in its drawer. “Y/N/I, come on. I need you to talk to me, Okay?” Y/N finally nods her head, but she is still so focused on looking at the body on the floor in front of her. “Baby, you’re safe. I’ve got you.” Richie coos, rocking Y/N softly. “I-I-” Tears start to fall down her face. “I didn’t mean to become a-a-to be a killer.” The tears get heavier as Richie thinks about what he said a couple hours ago. “I just didn't want him to hurt you.” The girl turns to look at the boy in his sparkling brown eyes. “Y/N/I, darling,” Richie stops to wipe the tears off her face. “You aren’t a killer, you were just protecting me, okay?” Y/N turns away and looks back at Francis’ body. “Y/N/I, I need you to repeat that back to me, okay? I need you to tell me you aren’t a killer and you were just protecting me.” Richie makes the girl turn to look him in the eyes again. She nods her head softly, letting her tears calm down. “I-I’m not a killer, I was just protecting y-you.” She nods again and moves to look down at the ground. Richie watches her as she does so and then pulls her to engulf her in a hug. “I love you, Y/N Taylor.” The girl listens as the boy she’s been seeing professes his love for her for the first time verbally. She looks up at him softly, “You love me?” He smiles and grabs her cheeks, “Yeah. I love you.” She smiles softly, “I love you too.”

“Y/N, Master Richie? I hate to interrupt the lovely moment, but there is a matter of dealing with the body…” The two turn towards Burling quickly and then look at Francis. “Y/N/I, you go up front and wait for my pops. English and I can handle this.” Y/N looks at him, nodding her head slowly, and walking out front. Burling shuts the door and moves to grab a towel for the blood. “Do you think he’s actually dead, English?” Richie says, looking at the body suspiciously. “I don’t know, Sir.” The two look at each other with concern before grabbing the body and moving it to go out back. They drop the body and Richie pulls out his gun. He points it at Francis’ head and then turns to Burling with a smirk, “I’m gonna enjoy this shot, English.” Richie turns back to the man on the ground. “God, he’s put my family through so much hell and Y/N through even more than that.” English looks at Richie empathetically for a moment. Then he watches carefully as Richie finally pulls the trigger, letting the bullet destroy Francis’ skull. 

The two walk back in silently, prepared to get the Boyle family’s cover up crew to go out back and take care of the mess. Richie proceeds to shoo Burling off to be with Y/N as he cleans up the mess by himself. He cleans up the mess carefully and then walks over to the sink and cleans himself off the best he can. The boy looks up at himself in the mirror for a moment before rubbing his face and walking out as he combs his hair back with his fingers. 

“Alright, Y/N/I, everything’s fine now-” Richie stops in his steps when he looks up to see a couple of men holding Y/N and Burling with guns to their heads. “You really have grown into quite a young business man, Richie.” The dark voice compliments. “It’s such a shame that you chose to waste such potential on my little girl.” Y/N scoffs quietly, earning a glare from her father. “That’s enough out of you, Y/N. Now come here.” The guard lets go of the pretty girl, watching carefully as she walks over to her father’s side. “Look at me, girl.” She moves her head upward to look her father in the eyes just as he swings his hand back and hits her across her face. Richie moves to help the girl up from the fall she just had, but is quickly stopped by the multiple guns pointed at him. “I knew I couldn’t trust you yet, but your mother insisted.” He pauses. “Now, you both will have to pay.” Y/N looks up at her father from the ground, “No, please!” She cries, “Don’t hurt mom, just me, please!” Tears well up in her eyes as her father grabs her up from the ground aggressively. “That’s enough.” He pushes her back into the corner angrily. “Burling, over to my daughter.” Burling nods softly and walks over to grab her, pulling her back into the middle room and out of sight. 

Burling pulls the doors shut then walks over to the girl carefully, “Quiet now, I have a plan.” Y/N looks at him with worried eyes, but nods her head regardless and walks with the older gentleman. 

Meanwhile, Richie is getting laid into by Mr. Taylor. “I don’t know what to do with you, Richie.” Two of the three guards are now holding tight onto the young man. “I could kill you.” Taylor pauses. “I want to kill you. Especially to punish that no good daughter of mine.” Richie scoffs. “You can’t kill me.” Taylor chuckles at the boy’s confidence. “No, Richie, I can’t.” He pauses again. “But I can hurt you.” Taylor takes one step closer, “Really,” and another, “Really,” one more, “Bad.” 

Richie yells out as Taylor moves to cut into the boy’s skin. Y/N turns quickly, being stopped by Burling as she could ruin the plan. The girl nods slightly with tears in her eyes. Richie continues to yell out horribly as Burling and Y/N try to quietly move around and gather the weapons that Burling has hidden in his shop. “Y/N, darling, are you sure you want to do this?” Y/N turns to look at Burling, nodding, “I’ll take care of my father if you can grab the other two.” Burling nods at the girl once before letting the two burst out the doors.

Burling shoots at the men holding Richie, giving the boy enough time to grab the gun in his pocket and shoot one of them dead, Burling shooting the other one. Y/N shoots the man protecting her father in the arm and leg, letting Richie turn swiftly and shooting him in the chest. Leaving Mr. Taylor completely vulnerable. The man scoffs arrogantly, “What do you think you’re going to do, Y/N?” He shakes his head and walks closer to the girl with the gun pointed at him. “You won’t kill your own father.” The girl takes this as her chance to scoff this time. “I can’t wait to dance on your grave.” She says through gritted teeth, pulling the trigger quickly and shooting her father in the neck. The older man falls to the ground with his hand wrapped around his neck, gasping for air. He grabbed his neck immediately, falling to the floor. Richie walks over to Y/N slowly, then he pulls his gun up and points it at him.

“Don’t.” She says, “He deserves to die in a slow and painful way.” 

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

I kind of resent the January 6 hearings because I know with 100% certainty in my heart of hearts that NOTHING is going to come of them. There isn't going to be some dramatic third act climax where all the bad guys get their comeuppance and democracy is saved, roll credits! That's not going to happen. What IS going to happen is some small fish will get thrown under the bus and then turn against the big fish (too little, too late), and some medium fish will throw themselves under the bus to take one for the team and protect the big fish (never rat on your friends, the pay's too good), but none of the big fish will see a single fucking consequence for anything. There will be no arrests, no trials, no jail time, no slinking away into shame and obscurity. They will get off scot free and continue doing what they've done, but now with a tacit seal of approval, and things will continue to go downhill as the worst human beings take back the reins of government and punish everyone who tried to stand in their way. When Republicans want someone taken out, they just fucking take them out.

I think we all know this to be true. The hearings are largely for show because no amount of damning evidence hurts anyone anymore. Well, at least not in the long term; Democrats are quick to pop champagne because Madison Cawthorne lost his re-election bid, but they must know he's not really gone for good. He'll be back in 2024, either taking back his house seat, or gunning for senate or governor, and he's likely to win because he's more popular outside his district than in it. There's no infrastructure in place to punish all the bad guys and keep them out of politics forever, so the worst "fringe" nutjobs of today will be the mainstream leaders of tomorrow (the Republican party is all fringe at this point; it's survival of the craziest, a race to the bottom, they want to see who can act the most cruel and depraved of them all).

The January 6 conspirators are gonna get away with it, and they gonna retaliate tenfold. The hearings are important, but they feel meaningless because we KNOW the system is broken. Even if the DOJ came down hard on any of them, prosecution could be derailed by a transition of power in 2025, or a single juror sympathetic to their plot could decide to ignore all evidence and hang the trial on purpose to get them off. It's so easy for right-wingers to pack juries and courts in their favor, but left-wingers just never do that. It's only ever a kangaroo court when the conservatives are in charge, "you're guilty because we say so, and no amount of evidence to the contrary can change that."

[topgunreacts]

Roll call roll call

Ùna in her wise woman garb is serving all sorts of looks. Love the inclusion of the necklace. The foreshadowing.

I LOVE the design for Victor. He is the standard issue Fisherman(tm) and he knows it. He is at peace. And so kind, feeding his wife and seal son. They grew up eating seafood somebody miles away would shell out big money for.

You are absolutely correct to say That Man does not deserve a face. He doesn’t even get a name! The way he’s so big and towering over pregnant Ùna like a predator is very chilling. Her skin is at the center because that was his only true aim.

YES I was hoping to see Steve. He’s drunk as fuck and not remotely worried about it. Poor Ice just wanted a lesson. And Slider is not getting paid nearly enough to put up with this. He is, in fact, not getting paid at all.

KUMIKO. I love her. All of my OCs’ names are inspired by real people. Here is her inspiration! That woman’s brain is sea slugs all the way down. The fact that you went so far as to draw a bunch of species is delightful. You must have had many wonderful tabs open for references. Pebble is such a supportive man.

CHAMOMILE AND THE TWINS. Ribbon seals are so…they just don’t look real. Their markings IRL are just so perfectly circular and crisp. It’s so intimidating. What I like most about this piece is the three distinct emotions going on. We got I Know Just What to Do, It’s Too Fucking Early for This Bullshit, and I Am Helping. It takes all three to run the place.

The doorways and windows of people and places!! There’s so much in this one so I’ll pick out a couple to highlight. The stylized image with the knife and Peisinoe is perfect. She’s basically a mythological figure to most of her kind, so she looks good in this less defined motif. Reminds me of cave art a little. What’s there is most important. / I’m so obsessed with the medical team lineup. They are all employee of the month. / More Drunk Steve!!!

The stylized scenery! I just really love this art style so so much. I love how round and exaggerated everything is.

A perfect ending. Ice just barely in the shot coming home, Maverick and his book, Estrella and their weird ass dog playing out back. It is so very nice and warm~

Re: two Iceman Creatures meeting: @icemankazansky and I were licherally talking about this not too long ago; specifically about a meeting between the creatures I have turned Val Kilmer into. Tbh selkie Ice would kick werewolf Ice’s ass if it came down to it. The werewolf is so tired of being on guard because he wants to be soft. Meanwhile, the Selkie has god slaying experience and is just getting started. BUT he is also kind so what would really happen is they would hang out, silently having a competition over who smells the worst. Honestly…selkie Ice would win that too. Wolves are musky on main but seal colonies smell SO fucking bad oh my god

Thank you so much for these beautiful works of art~

Fan art of Selkie Ice AU belongs to @topgunreacts . Thank you so much for writing such a great story!

I love every character in Selkie Ice AU. Every time I read the story again, I became more aware of it. Here is the link, please, read it:

I didn't realize the hardest thing to draw would be Ice's father. At first, I did three drafts, and in every one of them I tried to paint his face. But I soon couldn't, because I would die of rage at the thought of what he had done to Ùna. So I ended up skipping his face because he really didn't deserve one.

And I can't help but imagine “that” warlock beating up “this” warlock. He'll probably beat him up and say, “You are that Selkie abusing, child imprisoning, self-important, greedy pervert who has corrupted my code name!”

[k2padfoot]

Start Over

Draco x Y/n

Summary: Draco couldn’t love you in your marriage until he almost loses you.

Warnings: angst, angsty, angst. some fluff. TW: some self-harm imagery pls be careful reading!

The two of you had been married for one year now. You knew it wasn’t a marriage that he wanted, no it was more like one he was forced in to. On the other hand you, well you weren’t really surprised you had been wed to a Malfoy being a pureblooded Slytherin and all. The only thing you didn’t expect was for him to still not want you..

When Draco and yourself got married you were expecting him to be slightly reluctant at first, but you figured you’d win him with your charm over time. Unfortunately that never happened. You inevitably fell for the blonde haired beauty, but he just didn’t reciprocate those feelings even after a year. You’d fight with one another often, mostly over him not being loyal and the way he treated you. But he didn’t care, he just kept breaking your heart a little more each day. Tonight you were expecting just another drunk Draco to stumble through the door to your home.

It was around 11 o’clock now and you were sitting on the sofa with the fire crackling next to you illuminating the pages to your muggle book. You knew Draco was done with work around 7 pm and you knew he was definitely out getting wasted and falling over women that were not you like usual. Every friday night he shows up late, smelling like someone else, and his lips swollen red. He never let any other girls leave noticeable marks on him, thinking you still didn’t know what he was truly up to. Your eyes were drawn away from your book when your front door came swinging open, and an intoxicated Draco Malfoy stumbled in. You rolled your eyes at his appearance, he was noticeably wasted and you could already smell the alcohol coming off of him.

“What are you rolling your eyes about?” Draco said while slurring his words and stumbling to hang up his coat.

You slammed your book shut and rose to your feet, “Merlin Draco, do you think i’m that daft? Your such an ass!” You yelled to him as you tried to make your way past him, but he quickly grabbed your shoulder.

“Y/n, what the hell is your problem now? You are so damn needy and annoying!” he yelled back in to your face and you grimaced at the alcohol stench coming from his breath.

Your eyes were filling with tears but you didn’t want him to see how much his words really did hurt you, “Piss off! You’re drunk Draco, go to bed.” you said while you turned around and headed to the study.

You walked into your study and plopped down at the desk in the middle of the room. You just wanted to be alone right now. You could hear Draco slamming around outside of the door, but you didn’t care. You were so tired, so tired of his harsh words, his lack of decency, his disgusting actions, and just everything at this point. He had no idea just how much he hurt you everyday, and now it’s been a whole year of this and you were just so unbelievably tired.

Draco never understood why you got so upset with him. He assumed you disliked him just as much by the way you acted a lot. He figured you didn’t want to marry him either, he thought you’d never be able to love him, he knew he would break your heart so he made sure you wouldn’t fall for him. But he didn’t know how much he was breaking you already, he had no idea just how in love with him you were.

You had been reading in the study for at least an hour now trying not to consume yourself with bad thoughts. Your head was pounding, and you could feel yourself becoming more and more anxious by the minute. You quickly got up from the desk and made your way to the bathroom. You quietly tip toed past Draco’s sleeping form in your bed, you knew he’d be passed out with how much he drank so he wouldn’t come in. You had a routine for nights like this, nights where you just couldn’t handle everything.

Your bare feet came in contact with the cold tiled floor in your shared bathroom. You flipped on one of the many lights and walked over to your bathroom sink. You pulled open the cabinet under the sink and reached in for the bottle of wine you hid in there. You took it out and popped the seal while you let the large bathtub in the center of the room fill up. You never drank really and Draco knew that was because of how badly your father drank... But sometimes you just needed something to take the edge off. You slipped out of your clothing and into the warm water letting it soothe your skin. Your head was leaning against the edge of the tub and you took a deep breath before you brought the bottle to your lips and began to down some. Waiting for the pain to slowly fade away as you closed your eyes and let your body relax in the warm water.

You opened up your eyes and realized how quickly you had gotten tipsy from the wine, must’ve been because of your empty stomach. Your head was buzzing and your vision was blurred a bit, you only ever drank half a glass at most to take the edge off. But this time the large double bottle you had gotten out was half empty. This was a different type of drunk, and you didn’t like it. You didn’t like how it made your head hurt even more with bad thoughts. You didn’t like how it made your blood burn, how it made your bones numb, and your cheeks stained with hot tears. You hadn’t realized you were quietly sobbing in the tub now, eyes becoming too heavy to keep open anymore. So you let yourself slip down and become submerged in the hot water.

Draco had woken to the sound of your cries and busted into the bathroom to see you almost lifeless inside the tub. He grabbed underneath your arms and pulled you out of the water. His eyes had gazed over the almost empty bottle of wine sitting by the bathtub. His arms were wrapped around your torso as he sat the both of you down against the wall and pointed at your chest with his wand while speaking the reviving spell. Draco was now sitting behind you sobbing as he held your wet body close to his own. Your eyes shot open quickly after and you gasped loudly.

“Y/n!!! Y/n, what the hell were you doing?!! Please look at me!” Draco said as he turned your head to look into his perfect blue eyes.

You felt embarrassed but you knew you owed him an answer, “Draco, this wasn’t meant to happen. I-I just.. Sometimes I can’t handle the pain you know?” you said while stray tears slid down your cheeks.

Draco started to wrap a soft green towel around you,“Love, please tell me what’s going on?” he asked with soft eyes.

You tried to get up but you were too dizzy to stand, “Draco please don’t call me that!” you cried while hitting your fist lightly against his chest. “You don’t mean it! You don’t love me, i’m nothing to you!!” you yelled as he grabbed your arm and you fell into his chest crying.

He looked down at you with silent tears rolling down his own cheeks and softly kissed the top of your wet hair, “Y/n I- I am so fucking sorry. I never wanted to hurt you like this! Merlin I am so stupid!!!” he yelled and you flinched a bit at his tone. “Oh.. no.. no Y/n I- i’d never hurt you like that, and I never meant to hurt you like this.. I thought you’d be better off not loving me, I thought i’d hurt you if I let myself love you and I couldn’t do that.. I’ve wanted you for so long y/n but I thought it was just selfish of me. I figured if I couldn’t let myself love you i’d just live with you but I had no idea it was effecting you like this.” he said as he tilted your chin to look in his eyes again.

“Then why did you do it? Why did you let other women touch you like I should’ve been? Why did you say such harsh things to me?” you said while tears glistened your y/e/c eyes.

Draco looked down at you before answering, “I don’t know. I have no good explanation for you y/n and I know that’s not what you want to here but I just want you to know I’m sorry darling. You are worth so much more, you deserve so much more and I am so sorry I haven’t been giving you that. Your absolutely beautiful inside and out and I couldn’t apologize more for not realizing that in time. You deserve someone so much better y/n.” he said while he pushed a few stray hairs behind your ear.

You shifted in his arms to be completely facing him now, “But that’s the thing.. I don’t want anyone else, even after the things you’ve done I still don’t want someone else. Maybe we haven’t been able to truly love one another the right way but I don’t know Draco.. That doesn’t mean I just want to let you go.” you said to him as you nervously bit your bottom lip.

He reached down to cup your cheeks, “I don’t want to let you go either, honestly I never want to.. But I hurt you when I thought I was doing the complete opposite, I don’t want ever do that again. I don’t want you to feel like the things I did are ok. I want you to know just how important you are.” Draco said.

A stray tear slid down your left cheek, “I don’t want you to either... But I- I’d rather try than regret never knowing what this could really be.” you said while reaching up with your right arm to grab his own.

Within a couple of seconds Draco had smashed his lips on your own, and you felt it. The rush, and the pure infatuation. Draco felt the exact same way.

“Then could we start now?” he said as he pulled away from the kiss.

You gave him a confused look, “What do you mean?” you asked.

He gently placed your hands in his and pulled you to your feet, “Well for starters I am going to get rid of this,” he said while he dumped the rest of the wine bottle down the sink. “Next we’re going to give you a proper bath and then i’ll help you into some of my favorite sweats, & we can lay in each other’s arms for the rest of the night?” he asked you with a loving look on his face.

“I think that’s a perfect way to start.” you said as you smiled back.

“Then take this off and get back in love.” Draco said while he pulled at your towel. You giggled at his gesture and pressed your lips to his soft ones.

He pulled away and caressed your cheek, “I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you darling.”

You smiled in response and hoped for a new life with the beautiful boy in front of you.

[thatfanficstuff]

Unexpected - Stucky x Reader

Pairing Grouping: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Warnings: Steamy fluff with a dash cupful of foul mouthed Reader and super soldier. Also liberal use of sugar and baby but no sugar babies.

A/N: short fluff is no 3300+ of very steamy fluff. I’m gonna go with 16+ on this one folks. Oh, and STUCKY!!!

***

They didn’t think anything of it at first. It was just little things after all. Things that hardly warranted their attention. It wasn’t until Tony mentioned it that they began to take notice.

“Hey, Capsicle, you and tin man been sneaking off to the store without telling anyone? You could at least ask if we needed anything? I’ve been out of blueberries for days,” Tony said one night as the team sat to watch a movie.

“What are you talking about, Stark?” Steve asked with a furrowed brow.

Tony gestured at the bag of gummy worms that you and Bucky were currently sharing. “Just that you two seem to be the only ones around here that never run out of your favorite goodies. You could have stocked up for everyone. That’s all I’m saying.” He shrugged his shoulders and waved a hand through the air as if it wasn’t important, though clearly it was if he’d brought it up.  

You rolled your eyes. “Tony, you’re a billionaire. Pay someone to do your shopping and have it delivered, you big baby.”

The super soldiers on either side of you laughed and you settled more firmly into your seat between them. Tony started to say something else but Natasha smacked his arm. “Shut up. Movie’s starting.”

He grumbled which brought another smile to your face. He really was an overgrown kid sometimes. Really, you were just pleased that he’d shut the hell up. After all, if you’d wanted your crushes to know you were secretly taking care of them, you would have done it not so secretly. Liking both of them was awkward enough without them being aware of it, thank you very much.

Honestly, until that day, Steve had just assumed that Tony had someone that replenished the food in the kitchenette on their floor. True, they’d never seen anyone, but it wasn’t like it happened by magic. It was just over a week later when Steve glanced up from his drawing when Bucky walked into their living room. “Hey Buck, you didn’t do any cleaning did you?”

Bucky snorted. “There’s never anything to clean is there?”

Steve frowned. “Yeah, I noticed that to. I asked Stark if he had a service that did our floor. You know what he said?”

“I’m guessing he said no or we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Bucky answered as he sat across the table from his boyfriend.

“He asked if I wanted him to get someone in to help us out.”

Confusion caused Bucky’s brow to furrow as he leaned forward. “So, someone has been coming into our space, replacing our food and cleaning up after us and we have no idea who it is?”

“Looks like it.”

There was a stretch of silence before Bucky asked, “Why?”

***

It started when the boys were on a mission. You’d raided Buck’s candy stash for movie night and before you replaced it, you’d done an inventory and picked up everything else they were needing. It wasn’t like it took much more effort. And when you’d seen how happy they were when they arrived home to all their favorites, that was all the incentive you needed to keep doing it.

You made sure to refill their stash when they were on mission or out for training so they wouldn’t catch you. There was always the chance they’d return when you weren’t expecting it, but the odds were slim. After all, you made a living by sneaking around unseen, hence the name Shadow. The cleaning started when they were gone on a mission and you didn’t want them coming home to clutter and dust. You weren’t even sure that they noticed, but it made you happy to have something else you could do for them.

Steve and Bucky were currently on week three of a mission with Nat and Sam and you were sorting out the groceries you’d just bought while you tried to think of something special you could do for them.

“So, why do you do it exactly?” you heard from behind you, causing you to jump. The twins were in San Francisco until tomorrow so you should have had the floor to yourself.

You scowled when you found Tony standing behind you wearing his infamous smirk.

“Jumpy?”

Your cheeks heated as you turned back to the task at hand, hoping Tony wouldn’t notice at least half of your food was for the super soldiers. “Mind was just elsewhere. What’s up?”

“I was just wondering why you pamper the geriatric twins if you aren’t going to take credit for it?”

You froze briefly before finishing up and placing the boys’ food back into bags so you could carry it upstairs. Finally, you turned and crossed your arms over your chest as you leaned against the counter behind you. “I don’t suppose it would do me any good to deny it?”

He chuckled as he moved closer. “They asked me to look into it before they left. It was the complete lack of evidence that led me to you actually. Only one person I know can get around my system like that.”

“Shit.” You were a technomancer and were very skilled at making tech do what you wanted. Tony hadn’t been thrilled the first time you’d completely circumvented the tower’s security. Now he used you to test out new systems. Finally, you quit freaking out enough to meet his eyes. “Are you going to tell them?”

He tilted his head and frowned at you. “Why are you so dead set against them figuring this out? You know they won’t be anything other than grateful.”

“Because they’ll want to know why and I can’t tell them that.” Your voice was quiet but you knew he’d heard your answer.

“Well how about you tell me then, sparky?” he suggested.

You rolled your eyes at his stupid nickname as you sighed. He wasn’t the most trustworthy when it came to secrets but you were dying to tell someone. And honestly, he would probably be the least judgmental out of everyone. “You can’t tell anyone, Tony. I mean it.”

He rubbed his hands together and closed most of the distance between you. “My lips are sealed. You have my word.”

You arched a brow but chose not to comment. You closed your eyes not wanting to look at him as you made the confession. “I might possibly be just a little bit in love with them.” When you got no response you opened one eye to find Tony grinning at you as he rocked on his feet. You opened the other eye to give him a narrow-eyed look. “What?”

“I think you should tell them.”

“Not funny, Stark.”

“Wasn’t meant to be, sweetheart.” You just stared at him, saying nothing. After a few moments, he sighed. “Listen, as amusing as it might be to trick you into having that conversation with them and recording it to watch at my leisure later, I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“That little admission didn’t exactly help your cause any.”

He ran a hand down his face. “I can’t tell you that I know for sure how they’ll react, because I can’t. I also can’t tell you how many times I’ve caught them checking you out when they think no one’s watching. Or how many times they’ve argued about who got to sit beside you when there was only one seat left. Or the number of whispered conversations they have that fade away when you walk into the room. And while I have had many female friends over the years, I have never suggested any of them sit in my lap unless I was trying to take things beyond friendship.”

You frowned. “I sit in their laps all the time.”

His hands went out to the side as if to say ‘see?’.

Your frown deepened as you recalled something else. “Wait, didn’t you try to get me to sit in your lap when I was still new?”

Tony chuckled and turned around to walk off. “Only proving my point, Y/L/N,” he called over his shoulder.

It was barely five minutes after he left that you gathered the bags of food to take upstairs and put away. You weren’t certain you’d survive sitting around doing nothing and there was only so much training you could stand in a day. “Protocol five, J,” you said as you stepped onto the elevator. “Super soldiers’ floor, please.”

“Of course, Miss.” Protocol five would shut down all recording devices anywhere in your vicinity until you turned it off.

You made short work of putting the food away and glanced around. Things were fairly tidy though they could use a dust and a quick vacuum. A peek in both bedrooms had you wrinkling your nose. They’d had back-to-back missions before they’d left on the current one and obviously hadn’t had time to do laundry. While the boys normally slept together, they maintained their own spaces in case one of them was having a bad night or just needed some time to themselves.

Moving into Bucky’s space, you gathered up all the laundry and threw it out into the hallway. You also stripped the bedding and added it to the pile. You put a load in the washer before moving to Steve’s room. There was more laundry there as it was the space they shared the most often. You added to the pile already in the hallway before stripping those sheets as well.

After sorting the clothes into loads, you took about half of them down to your floor and started a load there as well before heading back upstairs. You opened windows in both bedrooms to let them air out as you put fresh sheets on the beds. You dusted and straightened and vacuumed only pausing as necessary to switch out the laundry.

By the time you finished all but the last loads of laundry, their rooms looked better than they had in months and they had clean sheets to crawl into when they got home. You’d cleaned the rest of the floor as well and were heading back to your floor to take care of the last of the clothes. You had to wait a bit for them to finish drying, but then once it was all folded and sorted, you loaded up the laundry basket to put it away. You were happy you’d gotten so much done.

Apparently ignoring your feelings made you productive, who knew? Most of the clothes in your basket were Buck’s so you headed to his room first. You reached for the handle, only to have the door open on its own. Your mouth dropped and the basket fell to your feet as you ran your gaze up a naked torso to see Bucky frowning at you. He was dressed in a pair of sweats and his hair was still wet from a shower. His gaze darted from you to the basket and back as a grin crept over his face. “Fuck,” you breathed out and took a step back. “I’m sorry. I-I need to go.”

He reached out and snagged your wrist before you got more than a step. “I don’t think so, sugar.” He tugged you gently back in his direction and lifted your chin with a finger since you seemed unable to look at him on your own. “Where do you think you’re going to escape to anyway, Y/N? We know where you live.”

“I was thinking of moving to Alaska. I hear it’s nice there this time of year.”

“You hate the cold,” he said with a laugh and looped an arm around your waist.

Your heart raced and you prayed that his stupid super soldier senses wouldn’t clue him in, but who were you kidding? You’d never be that lucky.

“Oh, Steve,” he called in a sing-song voice. “I have something for you.”

“Not now, Buck. I’m…” Steve’s voice trailed off as he stepped into the hall and saw you. His ears and cheeks turned a rather adorable shade of red and you couldn’t stop a giggle at the sight. “What’s this?” he asked looking between the two of you.

Bucky nudged the laundry basket into view with his foot. “I intercepted her on her way to put away the last of the laundry.”

Steve straightened immediately. “Oh, did you?”

And damned if his voice didn’t drop a whole octave when he said it. Now it was your turn to be embarrassed. You squirmed in Bucky’s hold but didn’t try to escape. There was no point. He chuckled behind you and passed you over to Steve when he held a hand out toward you. You licked your lips as you took it and let him lead you into the living room.

He sat on the couch and pulled you down onto his lap. Bucky sat right beside him and pulled your legs onto his lap. You cleared your throat. “I can sit by myself.”

“I’m sure you can, baby,” Steve assured. “But I’m happy with you in my lap. And you like to make me happy, don’t you, Y/N?”

Oh.

My.

God.

That was not fair. Not fucking fair at all.

Steve trailed a finger up your spine, chuckling when you shivered at his touch. His finger continued it’s journey up your neck then back along its previous path as he talked. “When Buck and I were kids, there wasn’t a lot of money to go around. Less so for me because of my meds. Our folks taking care of us meant putting food on the table and mending our clothes. Sometimes there might be enough for a dime novel or some sweets, but for the most part we took care of each other.”

Bucky kept rubbing little circles on your ankle with his thumb. “That hasn’t changed much over the last several decades. You know, except when I was trying to kill him. But then someone else started taking care of us. In a million little ways we didn’t always notice. Not right away anyway.”

“But then we did notice and we started making note of everything that made us feel cared for.” Steve’s hand flattened on your back and his fingers flexed slightly as he said, “Loved.”

“So, tell us, Y/N, why did you do it?” Bucky asked.

You shrugged and stared at your hands where they twisted together in your lap. “I stole your candy and needed to replace it so I picked up some other stuff. But then I saw how happy you were when you had your favorite snacks when you got home and that made me happy. The more I did, the happier and more relaxed you seemed so I kept doing it. I like it when you’re happy. Both of you.”

“That the only reason, baby? You like us happy?” Steve asked as he trailed that damned finger back up your spine.

You jumped out of his lap and stepped back until you were out of easy reach for either of them. They stared at you in surprise and you held out a hand to stop them when they started to stand. “No. You stay put. You two aren’t playing fair.”

“How’s that, doll?” Bucky asked, his blue eyes sparking with amusement.

“You with the touching and the sugar and the arm around the waist,” you said gesturing to Bucky before turning to his boyfriend. “And you with the baby and more touching and the deep voice. It’s not fair. It’s not.” You sucked in a breath. “My entire life I’ve been attracted to the unattainable guy. Every fucking time. But this time I really outdid myself because I fell in love with not just one, but two unattainable men and they’re dating each other. I mean fuck my life. Seriously. What is that? So yes, I did all of this because I love you. Both of you. And I’ll keep doing it for the same reason and it will always make me happy to see you happy. But at the end of the day, you two have each other and I don’t and that’s not fucking fair so stop. Just stop, okay?”

Steve stood first as if afraid to startle you. He stepped forward and swept his thumb across your cheek wiping away the tears you hadn’t been aware of. His hands settled on either side of your neck as he studied your eyes for the longest time. “You’ve got quite the fucking mouth on you, baby,” he said then tugged you forward and slammed his lips onto yours.

You hesitated for only a moment, a brief stretch of time and then you let yourself go. Your Steve was kissing you and it was nothing like you’d imagined. There was nothing soft or questioning about it. It was firm, sure, and altogether fucking fantastic. His hands moved to your thighs and lifted as his lips stayed glued to yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and as he turned, his lips slid from your mouth to travel the length of your neck. His open mouth kisses alternated with tiny nips that were sure to bruise and you rolled your hips against him in response. He hissed against your skin and you smiled.

A large hand grasped your chin and turned your head until another pair of lips slanted over yours. Bucky. His kiss was dark and rich and full of promises. He shifted his body so he supported your back as his hands found the hem of your shirt. Cool metal and warm flesh contrasted against your skin as he slid over your belly and up to caress your breasts. “Oh God.” You rolled your hips again, Steve pressed against your front and Bucky pressed against your ass.

“Fuck,” Steve said as his hands tightened on your waist in an effort to still your movements.

Bucky chuckled against the back of your neck and bit at the skin there, his bite firmer, more punishing than Steve’s. “What’s the matter, punk? She pushing you to the edge already?”

“Suck it, Barnes.”

“I intend to, Rogers.”

That had you grinning. This playful love they had between them was what you wanted. Was part of the reason you fell in love with both of them. Bucky’s gaze shifted to you and he mirrored your grin. “I love you, Buck.”

His grin widened. “You hear that, Stevie? She loves me. God, that’s sexy.” He kissed you soundly then pulled you from Steve’s arms to carry you bridal style to the bedroom. “I love you, too, sugar.”

That earned him another kiss. You put your hand against the door frame to stop him before he could carry you inside. This needed to be said before you were all in bed together. You turned to find Steve with a question in his eyes. “I love you, too, Steve.”

His smile was sweet, soft. “I know you do, baby.” He placed a hand on your cheek and gave you a soft kiss. “I love you, too. Have for awhile if I’m honest. We both have. Turns out we were both feeling guilty for loving someone else and it was the same girl. Never dreamed you’d actually be ours though.” You kissed him again and it only took a moment for it to take on a rougher edge.

Bucky turned you so he could carry you into the room, causing your lips to be pulled from Steve’s. You whimpered at the loss of contact and both men chuckled. “Don’t worry, baby, you’ll have more of us than you can handle in a moment.”

You squealed as Buck tossed you into the middle of their king sized bed. You propped yourself up on your elbows and bit your lip as you looked at the two men standing before you. “Promise, soldiers?”

“Oh, sweetheart, that’s a goddamn guarantee.”