#imagine in goose saw this I think I would die

[purplebehittindifferent]

Silly jester make me feel good about myself 😌

[autumnaaltonen]

i really would like to know what would be alucard reaction to a goth reader and what would be his thoughts on their style and the music they listen to!! ❤️❤️

really love your works btw!!

Alucard x Goth! Reader

Warnings: none

Immediatly thought you were the rogue vampire he and Seras were tracking down, and had one hand on his gun.

Why else would you be wearing only black from head to toe in broad daylight?

It was 6:30pm.

Seras had to quickly explain the concept of goth fashion, and how 'walking the path of darkness' is also an aesthetic, along with a vampiric lifestyle.

Alucard is happily surprised, having only ever spent time around God-fearing humans who would mistake a Hot Topic for a satanist church.

Imagine his surprise when you turn out to be their contact for the mission, having witnessed the rogue vamp acting super sus while being a regular at your favourite nightclub.

When people started going missing week after week, last seen at the entrance to the club, you knew the wannabe Edward Cullen sleazebag had something to do with it.

You walk the two vampires into the club just before opening to show them around, Skeletal Family and The Cult already blaring through the speakers as the bar sets up for the night.

"It doesn't matter if we all die. Ambition in the back of a black car. In a high building, there is so much to do. Going home time, a story on the radio."

Yeah, Alucard digs it.

Discussing the recent victims, you've already come to the conclusion that the rogue is targeting new kids to the scene, teens and young adults who were just getting into goth culture themselves.

Basically, Alucard and Seras were targeting an undead nark gatekeeper.

Alucard admires your smarts and obervational skills, given that you recognized the target without any help from the experts, but you reassure them that they'll know the vamp when they see him.

Before the club opens, you take Seras behind the bar and force her to go through the Lost n' Found bin to suit up. While her military cosplay hugged her in all the right places, the blue and white were going to make her stick out like a sore thumb.

You reassure Alucard that he's already dressed to impress, and that no one will be any wiser that he was new at the club.

"Will my attire not attract any unwanted attention?" he asks you with a smile, as you help Seras with her makeup in the washroom.

"You will have so many bitches humping your leg, you're going to have trouble shaking them off when the vamp breaks into a run. So perhaps you could lose the hat and goggles," you suggest, squeezing Seras' chin as you force a fake septum around her nose.

As the club opens up to the street, in flows a tidle wave of black lace, sequins and leather. Alucard has never felt more at home, and Seras has never felt so uncomfortable around humans in her life.

Just as you said, it takes the two vamps less than half an hour to spot their target. Cake faced, glammed up with tacky chrome, and biting throats at the bar while patrons think he's just some kinky shmuck with some really authentic fake-fangs.

He's not even trying to be subtle.

Alucard and Seras manage to lead him to the mens bathroom, where they have fun pushing the prick around, treating him worse than the poor kids he 'napped and killed.

You stand at the door, not letting anyone in, and telling them that "staff are setting up a gore-fest theme as promo for the new Saw movie."

With how efficient the mission went, compared to the usual goose chase they go through, Alucard keeps your number in case they have another vamp lose in the city.

You already have a list of possible rogues at other goth hangouts you're familiar with, and are more than happy to help keep your community safe.

However, you find Alucard contacting you more so out of boredom than for work, not that you mind in the slightest.

He shows you the real nitty-gritty of the dark side, how shadows and death bend to his every whim without question, given he is the rightful King of the undead.

Alucard finds your style practical and unique, but thinks you can do better than nightclubs and festivals. It doesn't take long for him to take you under his wing as a Hellsing human associate, acting as a bridge between vampires and the living to communicate on undead disturbances.

You become his right hand, not a secretary, but his human voice and confidante. And no one dares ever question your clothes or makeup whenever you walk into a room, because they know the shadows that follow you aren't just for show anymore.

[admirange]

Mcl style contest outfit dump pt. 4

Spectral waltz

I didn't know what spectral meant lol, pinterest gave me ghost artworks so I guess it's just ghost waltz? IDK. Used all white & pale colors and the usual black hair because that's all I have. I WISH I could relive my prom when my whole class waltzed together. My dress was all white and pretty and princessy and it perfectly fit me the first time I tried it 😭 AND HOW IT MOVED WHEN I DANCED okay I'll just go watch the video of our dance. Used music related elements and went for this barouqe/victorian type of vibe with the room. Taki is Queen Charlotte.

Got low ranking with it.

Alien abduction

My first thought was the sims. My second was the woman from that movie Mars Attacks! TRAUMATIZED me when I was a kid lol. Then I thought just fuck it we ball and went to do the outfit. Saw this red shared item shirt and I thought it looked so weird, I just had to use it. I basically built the whole outfit around it. Tried to give off this thight one piece clothing vibe? Idk how to describe it, similar to what superheroes have. Then gave her this health thingy that comes with that sportswear basic outfit, a clock, things like that. At this point I was starting to give her some lore. No way this woman was abducted like this. Maybe this is the alien doing the abducting? Wanted to use the green face mask but I don't have that one. So I gave her a notebook, maybe this is a scientist that got abducted and eventually became part of the alien society? And she's studying them while living on their spaceship. The aliens accepted her as their friend and let her do her stuff while she's also helping them. GOD an Alien cosplay would've gone hard with this theme! I tried to create a sort of hightech environment with the room. Taki got this rabbit suit because she was abducted with this lady and they experimented with her, creating the first ever rabbit goose (no goose were harmed while making this story).

Got low ranking with it. Sad, I really liked this one:(

Underground kingdom

I was thinking really hard what piece of media has this similar kingdom. Recently got back into lotr/the hobbit and I thought a dwarf would go so hard! But dwarf women have beards as well and we don't have that in the game (yet?). So I made the boring choice and made a black fantasy-like outfit. Tried to make a little I'm rich and in the castle just underground vibe with the room. This kingdom is not in a mountains but in the deep oceans! Okay this just gave me a great idea for a fantasy world, I'll write it down. Taki has similar jewelry like I have on my character, just not that dark.

Got well ranked with top 30%

Poisoned garden

Using green was a must, also for the poison idk? Black seems obvious since in movies dying plants often turn black/grey, but in reality when they die they're just brown. Unfortunately I had more black stuff than green & brown lol. The first lore was that this character is a poisoned & dying plant/flower in the garden, then I tried on this white dress accessory thingy and I thought oh! This lowkey looks like a wing! This is a bug! This is a bug in the garden! Maybe this bug IS the poison after all. Anyway this is a lame lore it didn't really move my imagination. I don't have open areas for backgrounds so went with the only (?) green I have. Put some plants in and called it a day. Mushroom Taki is part of the garden as well.

Got low ranking with it. Not surprised, not the best.

At the stake

Another witch theme! I saw some people did almost the same outfits as the witching hour, but this is different. This witch won't do peaceful witchy things in her cottage, this witch is going to DIE today. She is SUFFERING. Her lore is that she isn't even a witch but the people still treated her like one. Put witch jewelries on her and stuff just to prove their point. This girl just wanted to tend the farm animals but NO. They TOOK HER AWAY. The black dress is a shared item btw, can you tell I'm obsessed with it? But chains on her to show she is not free anymore. She is a PRISONER (as I said I don't have open area backgrounds so this is what I had to came up with). Anxiously waiting for the sun to rise because then the townspeople will take her to the stake. But she'll finally be free. They even took away her emotional support goose!!!

Got low ranking with it.

Night court

Ah yes, the theme where half of the contestants make outfits from the show, the other half from the book. But since it's "halloween themed" I guess it refers to the book? I'm not familiar with ACOTAR, since I usually (always) borrow books from my sister and she doesn't have those. Also they don't print them at the moment in my country & I don't like reading online. But I'm a big fan of ToG! So I'm familiar what types of clothing the writer likes to give characters. Honestly have no idea if I nailed it or not, but I like it and that's what matters. Read the fandom wiki about the night court, but didn't help much.

Got well ranked with top 19%

Goth princess

I'm getting bored of my black clothes ngl 😩 I had a friend when I was still at school who dressed similar, SO COOL. Lowkey that was my inspiration. Didn't want to just recreate a similar outfit as the night court because the theme also had 'princess'. Also I know goth people not only wear black, but my candy's wardrobe only has white, blue, black, and some other colors scattered around. Also there's a lot of different goth "subgenres" (??) so I don't know, I tried doing something based on my memories of that friend I had. I just hope people won't stick with the sexualized e-girl "goth" outfits, so much wasted potential. • (Yes I'm writing this before the rankings were done. Future me are the podium outfits good?) • (Yes they're fine dw about it past me) • Such an interesting style, also the music is amazing!

Got well ranked with top 16%

Grave digger

Well it's more of a grave robber but anyway 😬 I had two inspirations but both of them were only from my memories, didn't feel like looking up references. The first one was that grave digger from that old online game bloodmoon if anyone knows that? It was a "waiting game", we could go help the grave digger to have money when we were out of energy for the day from missions. The second was from the second episode of Guillermo del Toro's Cabinet of Curiosities where the robber found huge rat monsters in graves. Tried to do older vibe, feel like the theme fits more with that than today's.

Got well ranked with top 28%

Killer

So much possibilities... so much ideas... and I still went with Jeff the killer... just hear me out on yassified Jeff the killer PLEASE. No actually I think it's a disaster LMFAO. Didn't know what I was doing. Maybe a killer clown would've been more succesful. I have no hope for this outfit. Please forgive me for creating this 🙏

Got low ranking with it. NOT surprised (although at least it's not a butterfly sparkle killer. Seriously people, why can't you stay on theme for ONCE?)

Zombie

Well I love The Walking Dead and overall zombie movies. Thought about cosplaying a survivor but nah, the theme is zombie, let's do a zombie. Just dressed her in basic clothes that can somewhat be considered messy and put "blood" on her. Taki is a normal civilian as well, in civilian clothes. I was trying to do something messy, kinda bunker-like with the room. Overall a simple theme, nothing much to say about it.

Got low ranking with it (why do the podium zombies sparkling tho... do they know... zombies are literally rotting flesh... and they don't sparkle... it really annoys me when the outfit is so good and then they put sparkles and butterflies over it for no reason)

Some bonus infos

Saw complaints (not just on tumblr) about "white candies cosplaying for black candies in style contests" and how it's so offensive. While I agree it's icky when someone only uses them in "dark" themes, I don't consider my outfits problematic, since I used them randomly. Still I rather stayed with my newcrette's skin with the last 10-15 entries I made because fueling this in any way is not on the table for me. I really wanted to use different skin colors but I guess it's safer to stay with the default I have.

This is not a complaint nor a conversation starter (although I'm always open for that), I just wanted to clarify why the same skin color every time from now on. It's not because I don't want to use the other ones. And no I am not mad in any way. Spreading that emotion is the last thing I want to do, that's why I made this decision in the first place.

Thank you for reading and/or looking through my creations<3

[viemags]

Obey Me Boys & Royals Horn Headcanons

I was just browsing through my notes to delete some documents that I don't need anymore, then I saw these Headcanons about the OM! Boys that I had like a year ago and just wanted to share the "old me" rants I have about them! This is hella adorable(stupid really) and I have A LOT of things I want to say, yet some may be bullshit so yea... Hope you enjoy!

LUCIFER

Lucifart...pfftt definately me giving awful nickname just to piss him off. Remember the audio drama where his brothers butcher his name, this is another one yet inappropriate lol. Sweet because this mf lowers his pride for you and let's you touch his sensitive horns. You will also have the luxury to groom them. I would also be really curious about the gem on his forehead. He purrs too!(Tries to hide, but slips when he's really comfy) 10/10 would do again♡

MAMMON (Why is there no Yellow?🥲)

Mammoney corkscrew horn? Would it work tho? Imagine when he was new to it and young he tried doing it just to be cool and as a party trick lol. Would it work if I curl my hair in it? If I like drop a marble would it glide? The possibilities of his horns are endless! Also joysticks pfft. 10/10 would recommend for teasing with an abundance of my love for him. He probably does weird sounds when you stroke his horns, but will relax and just purr happily when he gets used to it.

LEVIATHAN

When I first saw Levi's horns I thought, are those tree branches? Not in a bad way, but in a Levi "woah" way 'cuz their unique like Mammon's, but cooler because they branch out! You can put ornaments or flowers in it!! Or tease him if you can hang little hangers and laundry to dry them hwhw. Goes hsssss when pleased by the horn petting.

SATAN

Satan's horns looks rough and sharp like his tail probably because of his aggression I dunno. Still Imagine putting flowers in it, cute. Or OR him putting the kitties on top of his horns ahhh!! He also purrs! I will die if he purrs AND the kitties purr at the same time! And me being a little shit reving it like a motorcycle🤦🏻‍♀️ (Be ready for some wild goose chase around HOL)

ASMODEUS

I can see Asmo having horns that shine or like reflects light because he takes care of it religiously. Also probably puts glitter in it. I would jokingly use it as joysticks too ngl. Also it's very unique too since his has an ombre!! Would def look good with rings and other accessories. Would downright moan when his horns are touched, whether it's because he is enjoying it or just teasing you.

BEELZEBUB

Beel's horns are built different lol, but fr tho his are the only one curling forward to his face unlike the others where they curl on the sides of their heads. Makes me think I can hold on to it, but probably not a good idea. Tho what if his horns be built like that if it represents how he is someone who they can rely on to carry them when their in need. And Belphie taking it literally by making Beel carry him. Would be really good for putting accessories, and it would make a very happy Beel♡

BELPHEGOR

When I first saw Belphie's horn my initial thought is, "that shits heavy, is your head ok?" I get it he's a cow , but that's probably one of the reasons he's always asleep 'cuz his head is too heavy he's always tired picking it up lol. Would definately play and twirl my fingers around it.

DIAVOLO

Dia's horns spells WEALTHY. I feel like I'm not worthy of touching it because I'm broke lol. I think the gold spots might be cold to the touch, but his horns are warm. Imagine helping him with his papers, and when you take a break his instinct is to flop his head on your lap, and make you play with his horns. Would def goof around until Barbs walks in with a stick threatening you both to finish you tasks lol. Give Dia more physical affection and love♡

BARBATOS

Barbs' horn make me do a double take because are those wings? They look like sticks? Will they break if I touch them? Will they flap? Brothers go brr when Barbs flies with his horns. Just kidding. Very unique and creepy at first. Got me thinking If Solomon asked to play with it before. Also what if you're the only one Barbs lets to touch his horns! Since he can see the future he can predict when you wanted to ask to touch his horns, so he will take extra care of it, and devise the perfect environment and break you both have to relax♡

[clatoera]

Your clove and glimmer bestie hcs have prompted me to ask if u have any bro hcs for Cato and Marvel or any bestie hcs for Cashbaria before they realised they were in looove

Alright. The bro-iest of bros. These two Mfers would have a podcast if someone let them (Noone lets them). They'd have a talk show if they could. They are like..such gremlins and it comes from the fact that neither of them got to be like normal teenage boys. And so, as a result, as young adult men..they do in fact act like teenage boys.

1.Theres alway a food HC in these because food is so instrumental as a symbol in panem and amongst my writing in this au. That being said for them theres no like..meaning of like healing or anything here. Not with them. And thats because at least once (multiple times) they have definitely made dumb decisions with food. Think trying to eat as many pizzas at they can in 45 minutes. Think "think they need 100 chicken nuggets for the two of them thats a normal amount right" (wrong). Think raw cookie dough as a snack because "it's the same thing as cooked cookies, just colder (wrong). They're just over grown teenage boys.

2. On that exact same note, don't take them to the beach. Just don't. Marvel WILL get so severely sunburned he can't move. They WILL try to drown each other in the ocean by seeing who can hold their breath under water longer (Cato). They WILL chase a crab and and one of them will get pinched by it. Do not add Finnick to the mix. It does not end well. They do almost die. Every single time. They have a good time though.

3. Cato will never think anything is funnier than making fun of Marvel and what Cato imagines is a very very very very very very very boring and mediocre sex life. Enjoy it, Missionary Marvel (and he WILL thank you very much. He's HAPPY).

4. Marvel's girls, bless their hearts, are arguably the least coordinated toddlers anyone ever meets. They trip all the time. They walk into things. Cato absolutely is floored by the lack of athleticism. Eventually, they get put into little dance classes and they're fine and honestly the cutest lil dancy babies. That being said, Cato does have a son on the opposite end, EXTREME athleticism. Marvel gets to live vicariously through him. He's More athletic than Marvel. Marvel is being beat at most sports by like..an 8 year old. By the time he is twelve he is physically bigger than Marvel. Marvel almost gets a broken arm from this preteen at least once. He loves it.

5. Marvel never lets Cato know a moment of peace when he finds out he is afraid of dogs.

6. Cato does in fact threaten him in that very precarious first few years after the war, because of Glimmer and how absolutely broken she was in thirteen. The things he saw involving Glimmer actually haunt him.

7. Their messages between each other are a war crime in and of itself.

I love these two. They're just little guys. Silly little guys who have killed people, many many people!

I just posted Cashbaria HCs on the post RIGHt before this! I'll link them here but i'm gonna keep this post for the silly gooses.

[pumpkinsy0]

𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕝𝕚𝕝 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕠𝕗 ℂ𝕦𝕣𝕝𝕪'𝕤 / 𝔸𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕝𝕒'𝕤 𝕓-𝕕𝕒𝕪

ℕ𝕠𝕨 𝕤𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕓𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕝𝕚𝕝 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕋𝕚𝕞 𝕊𝕙𝕖𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕕'𝕤 𝕓-𝕕𝕒𝕪 (𝕝𝕚𝕝 𝕓𝕠𝕟𝕦𝕤... 𝕒 𝕝𝕚𝕝 𝕓𝕚𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕋𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕟𝕕 🤭) (𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝕘𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕤 𝕋𝕚𝕞 𝕓-𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕜𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕤 -𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕤- 𝕝𝕠𝕝 𝕒𝕟𝕪𝕨𝕒𝕪𝕤...) (𝔹𝕦𝕔𝕜 𝕘𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕤 𝕙𝕚𝕞 𝕗𝕣𝕖𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕖𝕣 -𝕆𝕟𝕝𝕪 𝕠𝕟 𝕋𝕚𝕞'𝕤 𝕓-𝕕𝕒𝕪)

𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕒 𝕣𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕞𝕪 𝕗𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕 (𝕝𝕠𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕚𝕤 𝕒 𝕝𝕚𝕖 𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕚𝕟, 𝕚 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕥𝕚𝕞 𝕤𝕞 𝕝𝕠𝕝). 𝕋𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝕪𝕠𝕦!;!;!!

i think tim should b allowed to b a lil silly goose on his bday!!! also ik doing this while getting my hair done so this should b fun just me n my thoughts fr

•tim is a haitian cake connoisseur, like he doesnt like sweets THAT much but he rlly likes haitian cake, especially w kremas its canon now :3

•angela and curly make him wear this bday sash that says birthday king maybe w a lil crown, he looks stupid but fuck it its a lil funny

•the shepard gang r already like a pack of hyenas on a regular day so just imagine them on their gang leaders bday, youd think satan unleashed ppl from all 9 circles of hell on tims bday

•and then imagine the CURTIS gang coming over too??? yea just die youd have way more peace than you would b staying in the same neighborhood as this party

•its not even an organized party, theres so many ppl which half of em tim didnt even invite??? so he doesnt know how they got there, but whatever theres drinks YIPPEE

•i remember saying a while ago that buck and tim r like business partners and so buck being the gracious guy that he is, brought over free drinks, free in quotes some ppl dally and twobit had to pay because of some stunt they pulled at this other celebration

•BUT THIS MEANS☝🏽☝🏽 since theres so many ppl, its also easy for tim and darry to just slip away!!!

•damn where where they goin yall and y they starin at each other like that🤨🤨🤔🤔

•curly, angela, and pony saw them leave and they looked at each other like “fuck they doin hmmm🤔🤔🤔”

•it was nothing anybody needed to see BUT ANYWAYS THEY WENT BACK TO THE PARTY tim had noticeable marks on his neck and a bit disheveled BUT HEY THEYRE BACK

•and they made a mistake leaving bc wow is it a mess now lol

•while tim and darry were gone about 3 kissing games took place but then THOSE couples totally not pony and curly and steve and soda broke off and started smoochin it up else where but whatevs

•johnnys off in the corner staring like “ik what yall are” squinting his eyes

[breakerwhiskey]

252 - TWO HUNDRED FIFTY TWO

Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey.

Transcript under the cut. For more episodes, click here.

[click, static]

“Picked citrus fruit”. That’s the next date. And my god, it feels like that was a million years ago, a different lifetime.

Oh damn, I just realized…when I ditched the old car, I left Dean Martin’s suit in there. I’d also picked up a dress for Harry that I thought she’d look amazing—that I thought she’d like, um, not that I’m going to tell her that. But I am bummed about Dean’s suit. I liked that suit.

Anyway, even though I remember the weeks I was in LA, I definitely didn’t remember the exact date I went around snatching everyone’s lemons and oranges. I was starting to worry that I wouldn’t be able to figure out what the next set of numbers are but then…well, I don’t know if you somehow knew this or you were just counting on me being a better diary-keeper than I am, but Harry’s attention to detail has saved the day.

She’s…well, she’s kept a notebook of every single transmission I ever made. Or, at least, every transmission that she heard. It’s not like she transcribed everything I said, but she…she wrote the date, and where she thinks I was and little bits of what I talked about. If I mentioned her. She wouldn’t let me see the whole notebook, but I saw enough to know that.

It’s…well, I’m grateful, I guess, that she did that, because it’s helping us now, but it’s galling to have your innermost thoughts laid out and catalogued in that way. And I know, I know, they weren’t my innermost thoughts, not when I was getting on here and talking about them to anyone who would listen. But I said…a lot over this past year. And I don’t know if Harry wrote down any of what she thought and felt about what I had to say but…

It’s useful, that’s the point. It’s good she did it, because I sure as hell don’t remember when I said or did most things, but also the fact that she did it at all is messing with my head a little bit. All those years of living together and feeling like she wasn’t really listening half the time and now this.

I have to wonder if Fox has done the same thing. Written down every transmission I made and what I said. You must have, in order to give me a code in this way.

Harry’s started to get worried that you’re leading us to Junior. That we are going to have to kill him. I told her there’d be no point to sending us on this weird memory lane wild goose chase if it was just going to end in the same confrontation but…

I think there’s still a part of her that’s hoping we’ll encounter him, honestly. I think she’s willing to do what I’m not. Well, I think she’s willing in theory. I think, if it came down to it, she wouldn’t be able to. It’s not…it’s not as easy as I think she thinks it is. Even as a matter of survival. Even if you know that person is fated to die.

Because that’s the thing…he’s not fated to die. Not here. And I don’t know what kind of life he could have, but he does have a life here. And he should get to live it if he wants to, regardless of what happens to him in any other timeline, or whatever is ordained from on high.

If you are leading us to Junior, I can’t imagine what your goal would be. You said interfering in the past had destroyed things so what are you hoping to accomplish now?

[click, static]

[contrasting beeps of different pitches]

[rae-writes]

a secret’s ability to protect

bsd boys x reader 

wc : 3.k (it was not meant to be this long- oops)

warnings : violence, blood, minor deaths, very brief suicide mention (Dazai)

synopsis : not all secrets hurt

Dazai

No Rest For The Wicked (levitation/telekinesis)

You and Dazai had been tasked with finding a rather amateur hacker that was caught trying to steal data from the Ada 

It was easy enough, you’d found him in less than an hour, but unfortunately the hacker knew he was amateur : he had a trick up his sleeve to compensate for it 

He led you both up to the rooftop on a wild goose-chase and before you could even blink the sudden brightness away, Dazai had been grabbed and thrown towards the edge 

You saw everything in slow motion when your boyfriend started to fall. His feet skidded across the concrete rooftop, catching on the sides, but his right foot slid too far. 

Dazai pitched backwards with widened eyes, breath caught in his throat. His mind was screaming— he didn’t want to die! Not yet! He couldn’t leave you behind, he still had an entire lifetime with you! 

A gut-wrenching shout tore through the air, silencing his thoughts. “OSAMU!” 

With speed that could rival a demon, you were right in front of him, grabbing on to his outstretched hand and tugging him back before his left foot could slip too. You had to use all of your strength to pull him, and in doing so, you threw yourself right off the side of the roof.

“BELLADONNA!” His widened eyes were filled with horror, throat already raw from his screaming. Shaky hands slammed against the concrete and Dazai thought about following you when- 

“Osamu, don’t you dare even think about trying to take a swan dive on purpose!” 

His head shot up so fast he knew there would be a crick in it later, but he didn’t have the energy to care. Because right there, right in front of him, was you. You you you. “Belladonna?” 

You smiled, scrubbing away the tears that managed to fall from your eyes. “Hey, Samu.” You were levitating. Literally floating in the air. “I…” 

You moved until your feet were both planted on the rooftop, dropping to your knees immediately after so your nearly-hyperventilating boyfriend could wrap you in his arms. 

Dazai was trembling like a leaf, fingers gripping and releasing you over and over. When he tried to speak, nothing would come out- only short sobs. 

“I’m so sorry I scared you like that, but when I saw you about to fall knowing you didn’t have an ability that could help, I…” You breathed in sharply, “I couldn’t let you die, Osamu. You were not going to die on me. I wouldn’t allow it- I won’t allow it. We still have so much time together and goddamnit no one is going to take away a single second of it.” 

Osamu pulled back enough to look you in the eyes; you were terrified. Terrified and consoling him- apologizing for scaring him. “Y/n, I love you so fucking much. You have nothing to apologize for, my love, thank you for saving me.” 

The hacker did get away, making Fukuzawa send Ranpo and Kunikida on another mission to capture him, but Dazai didn’t care. You were safe— he was safe. In your arms. 

Once the shock of almost dying and then thinking he lost you melted away, Dazai was ecstatic at your uncovered secret 

He was so interested in your ability and practically begged you to tell him all about it; he didn’t even care why you didn’t tell him before

He knew now. And the smile on your face as you made things levitate around you to show him made him beam 

Fyodor

Of Monsters And Men (siren/manipulation by song)

The DoA had invested in a deal with a rather shady party. No one was actually expecting the guy to go through with it, so imagine everyone’s surprise when he showed up at the meeting

It went smoothly for the first 30 minutes or so, but eventually like everyone originally expected, the guy refused the deal’s terms 

He’d been fidgeting since he arrived and when he denied the deal, his hand pulled out a knife from his coat pocket and aimed it right at Fyodor 

All eyes were on the, admittedly impressive, knife and who it was aimed at. Fyodor just stood there with his eyebrows raised while Nikolai sat perched on the table with a grin. Sigma began to slowly rise from his chair when the knife was drawn back but everyone stopped their movements when your voice rang out. 

“Come little children, I’ll take thee away, into a land of enchantment.” Your tone was airy, persuasive, and directed at the man with a knife (if your sharp gaze was anything to go off of). 

The man’s eyes instantly glassed over and his hand faltered, gaze averting from Fyodor to you. 

“Follow sweet children, I’ll show thee the way,” you motioned your hand towards yourself, urging him to come closer, “Through all the pain and the sorrows.”

He staggered right to you, past a clapping Nikolai, a gaping Sigma, and a widened-eyes Fyodor. The man swayed when he came to a stop in front of you, gazing at you like you were his god. 

“Weep not poor children, for life is this way.” You held your hand out, smiling when he placed the knife in your hands. “Hush now dear children, it must be this way.” You quickly shoved the blade into his jugular, yanking it across the expanse throat. 

Nikolai whistled, having already known about your ability. He jumped off the table and leaned into a bow, “There you have it gentlemen! What a show!” 

You snorted, bowing back to him, “No one tries to hurt my Fedya.” Skipping right up to said man, you wrapped your arms around his neck, giggling when Sigma started to stammer out questions. 

“You- but you- and he- but you don’t- how did you- when- what.” 

Nikolai and you both were cackling, winking at each other before the meeting was officially dismissed. As you parted ways and began to walk to your respective homes, a strong grip encased your hip. 

“Interesting ‘show’, Milaya.” 

It was a rather tense walk home for you as you didn’t know what he was thinking behind that blank expression on his face; you swear you were almost knee deep in your own coffin

Fyodor wasn’t necessarily angry you didn’t tell him about your ability before, but he did interrogate you about it for over an hour 

Fortunately, he was down right fascinated- demanding you demonstrate it to him by making him come to you like you did the man

You got to sit in his lap as you explained how it worked, enjoying the attention you received with happy hums in between sentences 

Chuuya

The Gods’ Golden Ichor (blood manipulation)

A foreign ability user had made their way onto the Port Mafia’s hit list— a top lister. The boss had gotten tipped off that the foreigner was in Yokohama, but they’d be leaving tonight 

In an effort to save some time (and trouble), Mori sent you and Chuuya to go capture or kill said ability user. The ability itself was unknown, you only knew that it was powerful 

But you were suspicious when they looked pleased, thrilled even, at Chuuya’s appearance and only when they kept trying to get close to him did it dawn on you

“Stay back, Chuu!” You ignored his confused look and stepped in front of him, blocking the ability user's path to him. “They’re going to try and bring out your corruption form.” 

They chuckled, “A sharp one, aren’t you?” Their gaze fell to Chuuya once more, eyeing him up and down before glancing back at you. 

Your teeth gritted as you got ready for a fight, but they were fast. Before you could even blink, they were already right beside you both, hand stretched out to touch your boyfriend. 

“You lose.” 

Chuuya’s eyes widened, feet tripping over themselves to move back. He couldn’t fight— they had to touch him to activate their ability, right? Chuuya’s own ability covered him as he got ready to throw some debris around, but someone beat him to the punch. 

The ability user’s outstretched hand had been bent backwards at the wrist. Their face morphed into one of pain as each one of their fingers bent in an odd direction. Six different snaps echoed in the air, sending them to the floor, screaming in pain. 

You scoffed, staring down at them as you crossed your arms. “You sure are confident for a scrub.” Your head tilted to the right, making their head do the same. “I outta snap your neck and be done with it, but we need to take you in alive now.” 

The Black Lizards made themselves known, moving to apprehend the user. They asked for clearance to leave, heading back to the base when it was granted, leaving you and Chuuya alone in silence. 

“Chuu?” You bit the inside of your cheek, reaching out to close the wound on his cheek with your ability. “…Chuuya?” 

His azure eyes met yours, feeling the deafening silence envelop the two of you. “Y/n…”

Is actually kinda hurt you didn’t tell him about this before. Chuuya has major trust issues, but he trusts you with his life- with his entire being- and everything else in his life, so why didn’t you trust him enough to tell him about this part of you?

Though his heart promptly breaks right then and there when you tell him that, with an ability like yours that could potentially take down the entire Port Mafia, you didn’t want him to be forced to choose between you or the job he loves should Mori ever deem you an enemy 

Then he’s hugging you so, so close; assuring you about how much he trusts you and that he knows you’d never betray him or the PM like that. It’s a really intimate moment for Chuuya- to say all these things out loud to you. And he doesn’t regret it, especially not when you reply with ‘I trust you and I love you’

When everything is said and done, he’s hyped! He thought you were freaking badass back there and he’s not afraid to admit he adored being saved by you. Will certainly be asking Mori to assign you more missions together : Chuuya wants to see everything you can do

Akutagawa

See No Evil In The Dark (light manipulation)

You weren’t thrilled about going on a mission with Dazai. You adored Atsushi, but Dazai? Absolutely not. He knew more about you than anyone else did and that didn’t sit right with you; it made you unsettled.

But you had a mission to do either way and you couldn’t just not do it because of who you were joined by. Plus, Ryu still looked up to Dazai and you weren’t gonna ruin that for him.

It was your and Ryu’s job to cover the east and west side while Atsushi and Dazai covered the north and south. When you met back up, one of you had been tagged and followed, so you all ended up being surrounded. And like you’ suspected, Dazai took control of the opportunity presented.

Dazai glanced over at you knowingly, spreading his hands out like he was presenting you the finest thing on earth. “Well, Y/n? Now's your chance to show off what you’ve been hiding all these years~”

You glared, audibly cursing out the brunette as you shot a beam of light at a few of the men surrounding the four of you. “How about you mind your own stupid business, Osamu.” Intentionally avoiding Akutagawa’s gaze, you stepped forward with balls of light in your palms, “Fuckin-A.”

“E-eh?!” Atsushi was left gaping with his tiger arms waving around, eyes shooting from you, fighting, to Akutagawa, who was left with a clear expression of shock slapped on his face. “D-did you know about this?!”

“Obviously not.” His voice was normal, and as he moved to summon Rashomon, his usual blank expression returned, but he was practically roaring on the inside. “Rashomon : Sawarabi!”

Grinning, you looked over just in time to see the spikes erupt from the ground and impale over half the men in that direction. A man grabbed you while you were distracted with your boyfriend’s ability, yanking you back by your hair and kicking the back of your knee.

“So we’re gonna have four ability users to sell instead of three, huh? Guess it’s our lucky day.”

“Think again, bastard.” You attacked with ‘starburst’, laughing when your light exploded in his face. “DAZAI! CODE WHITE!” 

Said man blinked before running to grab both Atsushi and Akutagawa, bringing them to the ground with him, and covering their eyes as he closed his own. “ROGER!” Dazai pulls the duo towards him a little harder when they begin to struggle, “Don’t open your eyes until they tell you to.”

A bright light blanketed the area, blinding the few men that were still standing and the rest that were still conscious. A quiet ringing buzzed in everyone’s head for a moment before it went silent and a soft ‘open your eyes’ reached the three men’s ears.

“Y/n?” Akutagawa looked up, taking in your swaying and paleness. ‘Trouble’ he thought as he moved to pick you up in his arms.

Akutagawa, first and foremost, is worried about your well-being. He sees you’re taken care of (by himself of course) before he even dares do anything else 

Promptly after your color has returned, he’s on your ass : brows furrowed and tone sharp as he demands why you hadn’t told him of your ability before hand 

It’s less about not telling him and more about your safety and the thought of you fainting or something because you overused your ability without him knowing it even existed scares him

Ryunosuke is easily assured by your soft touches as he holds you tightly against him. You tell him everything about your ability willingly, smiling when he mutters something about being “the light to his darkness”

Atsushi

Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing (hidden wolf traits i.e sharper nails, sharp canines, faster agility)

The Ada was tasked with finding and capturing a band of human traffickers, specifically, ones that trafficked ability users 

As ability users themselves, most of the Ada had to be careful. This became a stealth mission- one you had to successfully complete. And it was faring relatively well…

…until you all got separated. You were lucky enough to have been inside their hq, having found out exactly what they wanted. Unfortunately, what they wanted was Atsushi, and you weren’t letting that happen

Atsushi had been backed into a corner, rendered helpless by the drugs already administered in his body. 

“Now, now, don’t worry boy.” The leader held up a syringe filled with blue liquid, “It’ll only pinch for just a second, but you’ll be out like a light afterwards.” 

A deep growl weaves throughout the area, setting off primal alarm bells in the men’s heads. “Get. Away. From. My. Tiger.” A flash of h/c shot forward and the syringe shattered. 

Atsushi was left gaping, eyes widening when you stood up from your crouched position in front of him. He couldn’t tell if he was more concerned about the growl you’d let out or the four bleeding slashes trailing down the leader’s face. 

You smiled, showing off your sharpened canines, grimacing when blood spurted onto your face. “Disgusting…Just sit and rest, Sushi. I got you.” 

He didn’t respond, couldn’t, as you were quick to get back into action. And when he said quick, he meant quick. You moved like you were meant to be an animal instead of a human— so agile, so graceful. 

Every single human trafficker present was shredded by your nails, which to Atsushi, looked like those pointed acrylics rather than actual claws. Each of them hit the ground and not one of them got back up. 

The rest of the Ada had long since found the two of you, choosing to sit back and let you finish the mission. Yosano gave Atsushi an antidote of sorts to help regain motor movement, meaning he could pull you into his arms when you were finished. 

You scratched his scalp, letting out a deep rumble akin to a cat’s purr. “They’re not dead, I knocked them all out so we can capture them like instructed.”

Dazai laughed, patting Ranpo- who obviously was aware of this- on the back before doing the same to Atsushi. “You got a little wolf as a partner! How cute! I guess dogs and cats do get along after all.” 

Atsushi looked up at you, noting how your canines and nails were normal again. “Wolf?”

The first thing he does, naturally, is thank you for saving him. Like Dazai, Atsushi completely looks over the fact that you never told him about your ability before and focuses solely on the fact that he knows now

And he’s just so in awe of you (not like he wasn’t before, mind you). He politely asks to see your ability up close and he’ll examine every aspect of it with a soft smile. 

Not only is he glad he’s not the only one with an animal based ability, he’s assured by the fact that you have those animalistic instincts too. Atsushi is very curious, then, on how they differ with the whole “dog and cat” thing. 

He’s kinda sad you can’t actually turn into a wolf, but he’s still giddy at the whole ability thing nonetheless. He’ll spend the whole night asking about it if you let him, and Atsushi is certainly not above begging you to scratch his scalp with your ‘claws’

Ranpo

Feed The Machine (metal manipulation)

You, Ranpo, Kenji, and Kunikida were sent on a simple “who done it” murder investigation. It was a town over from Yokohama, meaning you had to take the train

It was an uneventful ride, with you and Kunikida directing the other two children. You’d even made it without incident almost all the way to the police station 

A block or two away, someone- who Ranpo deemed as the case’s murderer- stopped the four of you at gunpoint. And it seems like they knew all about the Ada members

While being held at gunpoint should’ve warranted more…shocked expressions, the most any of you could muster up was a ‘are-you-kidding-me-right-now’ look. Ranpo, of course, was still smiling and apparently that didn’t sit right with the perpetrator.

“Bastard! Who the hell are you smiling at?” When Ranpo said nothing, they shook in anger, “Well you won’t be smiling for long, non-ability user.”

Hearing that made everyone’s expression crack. How the hell did they-?! The gun fired, causing Kenji and Kunikida to yell as they ran towards Ranpo in what seemed like slow motion. Said man watched the bullet fly closer and closer, green hues widening when you jumped in front of him.

Your mouth was pulled into a sneer, hand stretched out, when the bullet inverts in on itself and falls to the floor only 2 feet away. “If I’m not touching the metal, I have to know its exact composition before I manipulate it with my mind. If you wanted to surprise someone, you shouldn't have chosen a common police gun.” You give a wry smile, “Trash.”

At the flick of your wrist, the perpetrator’s gun shakes and explodes, no doubt sending third degree burns up their arm. They’re screaming, practically throwing a fit because you weren’t supposed to have an ability. It wasn’t in your file- there was no evidence of previous use!

Ranpo is also left in a state of shock; not only has your ability never been filed or mentioned anywhere, he didn’t even suspect you had one. Yet here you were bending street signs and lamp posts to your will, effortlessly caging the perpetrator.

You huffed, dusting off your hands, before walking back over to your boyfriend. “Ranpo, you alright?” Frowning at his silence, you turned and waved Kunikida off, “I’ll stay here and make sure he doesn’t get out of my little cage. Go get the police.” 

Kunikida looked worried for a second, quickly shaking it off and telling Kenji to follow. The smaller male patted the metal of the cage, scolding the inhabitant, before waving to you and running after the other. 

You fidgeted, grabbing a small piece of metal off the ground and manipulating it into a heart, “Forgive me?” You handed it to him hesitantly.

Ranpo is shell-shocked. The first thing that comes out of his mouth is a loud “YOU HAVE AN ABILITY?!” He gets over his shock relatively quick, only to replace it with a major pout 

You didn't tell him? Why not?? How could you keep something so awesome away from him? More importantly : how the fuck did he not figure it out?! Really, all you gotta do is kiss his pout away for him to bounce back to excited little kid

Then he’s talking 90 miles a minute about how cool your ability is and how awesome you are and it “only makes sense you’re so awesome since you’re dating such a great detective!” But at the end of the day, when you’re both back at home, he’s quiet and soft-spoken as he thanks you for saving him

Whether or not you give a reason as to why you kept your ability a secret, he’s giddy at the fact you shared it with him- and by saving him, no less. And he truly does think it, and especially you, are amazing

[thelunarbar]

Know You’re Not Alone - Patience Series Part Six

In which: Mav and Ice would take care of everyone if they could, but they’ll settle for caring for the people they can.

Word count: 3839

A/N - again this came our way longer than I meant for it to, but I’ve been waiting to actively have Jake in the story since I introduced Natasha. So here we are. Still pretty angsty, but with a couple fluffy moments too. And as always no beta we die like goose.

T/W - mentions of abuse, I can’t think of any others, but please lmk if you see any

-/-/-/-/-

The weeks between thanksgiving and Christmas are a whirlwind of activity. They throw a small baby shower for Natasha, they invite Sarah, and Jake(who doesn’t show)and Natasha’s case worker. There’s gifts and cake and a good time is had by all.

Two weeks after thanksgiving Natasha’s father is found guilty of manslaughter and his sentence is extended by six years. Natasha doesn’t say anything when they tell her, just disappears to her room and doesn’t come down until lunchtime the next day. Mav can’t even begin to imagine how devastating it must be to find out your father will miss the birth of your baby and the first five and a half years of his life. Not mention the knowledge that by the time he’s released she’ll have been an adult for three years, nothing stopping her from going out and making her own way in the world, though Mav and Ice have both assured her she can stay as long as she needs. But that doesn’t make the situation any easier.

Shopping for presents is a lengthy undertaking, as they’ve never had this many people to shop for before, wrapping takes even longer. Mav lacks the patience to do it well and Ice rewraps at least half the things Mav does.

Getting decorations and the tree up is an event unlike any other year. They have Christmas music playing louder than they should, everyone talking and laughing while they work. Mickey gets the honor of putting the star on top of the tree, with assistance from Ice.

No one has been able to contact Mickey’s dad yet. Last Mav heard his squadron had been MIA, but he’d been assured they were doing their best to find them and bring Mr. Garcia home. Ice has been using his many contacts to keep updated on the situation.

A week before Christmas they get the call informing them that Bob’s mom is being discharged from the rehabilitation center. She’ll be by in the evening to get Bob.

Mav struggles to be happy about it. He knows it’s a good thing, a great thing. Especially this close to Christmas. Bob will be thrilled. But Mav has grown attached to him, loves him like his own. And if he cries, no one has to know.

-/-/-/-

Laura shows up at seven. Her clothes look too small and her jacket has a hole that showcases the white filler insider. Her hair is shorter than the last time Mav saw her, but she’s smiling when he opens the door.

“Hi.” She says, a little breathless. She glances around, trying to see Bob. Mav smiles and steps to the side so she can come in.

“Hey, Laura.” Mav closes the door behind her, “Bob, buddy, you have a visitor.” He calls. Bob makes his way into the entry, followed by Ice, and grins broadly when he sees his mom.

“Mama!” He throws his arms around her and she kisses his temple, a few tears trailing down her cheeks.

“Hi baby.” She holds him close, running her fingers through his hair. “Ready to go home?” He mutters something into her shoulder and she smiles.

“Hey, Bob, why don’t you get your things while we talk to your mom for a minute?” Mav suggests. Bob nods and runs up the stairs. Mav turns back to Laura, who’s watching Bob with a smile on her face. Ice takes Mav’s hand and gives it a squeeze. “We were wondering if you and Bob would like to spend Christmas with us?” Laura stares at them for several seconds.

“Are you-are you sure?“

“Of course we’re sure!” Mav assures her. “We already bought a few things for him and-”

“We’d like to give you guys a real Christmas, as long as you don’t mind spending it with us.” Ice tells her. She inhales shakily and her eyes get teary.

“Thank you.” She finally says. “I can’t give him anything this year and I can’t even decorate and I’m so afraid of disappointing him more than I already have.” She sniffs and wipes at her eyes, “And I know he’ll be so brave about it, but he shouldn’t have to be.” She pulls Mav into a hug and then Ice.

-/-/-/-

Christmas morning comes quietly in the Kazansky house. None of them are particularly early risers, except Ice, who goes down the stairs and gets breakfast going. Cinnamon rolls, left to proof overnight are popped into the oven beside the turkey, to ensure it’s done by dinner time, and bacon is set frying, coffee drips steadily into the pot and slowly, one by one everyone else straggles in. Breakfast is a pretty quiet affair of bed head and morning breath crowded around their table that is seeming smaller and smaller all the time.

With breakfast consumed they make their way to the living room where they designate spots to each kid, Bradley included, and Mav sinks into Ice’s recliner while Ice plays Santa.

The first few gifts go to Natasha and then Mickey. They managed to find a good balance between things for the baby and things for her and Ice has no qualms about taking all the credit for that despite Mav’s protests. It was hard not to go overboard buying for her baby now that she knows it’s a boy.

For Mickey they found a few toys, some clothes and a couple sensory items they thought he might enjoy.

For Bradley there’s an assortment of practical things they know he needs, a hoodie, a pair of boots, and few more things just for fun, a couple novels, some cds and a large model car building kit.

Laura and Bob show up shortly before noon. Each laden with a small pile of gifts wrapped in newspaper. Laura had knit hats for them all and gave Natasha an IOU for a sweater she’s knitting for the baby.

Ice managed to get his hands on several model planes and Mav wrapped up all the books on planes they had in the house that Bob had flipped through endlessly during his stay, as well as a several new ones. Bob is beyond thrilled to receive them.

They decide to gift Laura some clothes, a feat easier said than done, but with help from Sarah they find some things for her and get a gift card so she can get some things of her own choice.

-/-/-/-

Mav declares Christmas dinner the best feast Ice has ever prepared. And a round of agreements follows. Ice goes pink in the face and Mav kisses him soundly before carving the turkey.

When dinner is consumed Bob and Mickey find a spot near the tree to enjoy their gifts, Natasha takes the landline down to her room, whether to call her dad or Jake, Mav doesn’t know. Ice busies himself packing up leftovers to send with Laura and Bob. And Mav and Laura are standing in the living room watching Bob and Mickey.

“Laura?” Mav asks, gently resting his hand on her shoulder. She turns to him, smiling, hair falling into her face as it’s not quite long enough to stay tucked back, wine glass clasped in both hands.

“Hmm?” He offers her a red envelope. She sets her wine glass down on the end table and takes it, questions floating through her eyes. She opens it and pulls out the card inside, a classic winter picture. She flips the card open and starts to read the note inside, letting the $500 gift card for the local grocery store slide into her hand. She gasps and looks up at him, tears collecting in her eyes again. “This is too much.”

“It’s Christmas, Laura. We want to help you and Bob as much as we can. And if there’s ever anything else we can do for you, please don’t hesitate to call.” She bursts into tears, sobbing into her hand. Mav pulls her into a hug. She continues to sob as he rubs her back gently and it makes him wonder how long it’s been since she’s had someone take care of her.

-/-/-/-/-

When Bob and Laura start pulling themselves together she pulls Mav into a hug and then Ice.

“Thank you. For everything.”

“Of course. Please let us know if there’s anything else we can do to help.” Ice tells her, smiling, arm wrapped around Mav’s shoulders. Laura blinks back tears as she nods. She grabs the bags of gifts and leftovers and takes them out to the car, when the screen door closes behind her Bob wraps his arms around Mav’s waist.

“Thank you.” He says softly. “For the gifts and for being the best family I ever had to stay with.” Mav holds him tight and presses a kiss to the top of his head.

“It’s been our pleasure, buddy. We love you and we’ve loved having you here.”

“We’re gonna miss you, kiddo.” Ice tells him, ruffling his hair. “But we’re really glad you get to go home.” Bob pulls away from Mav and pushes his glasses up.

“Me too.” He smiles brightly and gives Ice a hug before following his mom out to the car.

-/-/-/-

Mickey falls asleep beside the tree, his new stuffed lion held to his chest. Bradley is reclining on the couch, dozing, book open on his chest. Natasha is curled up on the other end of the couch flipping through the book of baby names they’d given her and Ice and Mav are sharing Ice’s recliner. They have Christmas music playing softly, an old record spinning on the turntable brought down from Natasha’s room.

“It’s been a great Christmas.” Mav says, resting his cheek against Ice’s head.

“It has.” Ice agrees. Mav stands with a groan and carefully picks Mickey up, deciding to transfer to him to his bed. Ice follows him up and once Mickey is settled they share their first moment alone all day. Standing in their bedroom, arms wrapped around each other they share a kiss.

“You astound me everyday.” Mav says, smiling softly and tangling his fingers in Ice’s hair.

“You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I love you with all that I am.”

“Always have to one up me, don’t you?”

“Can’t help it.” Ice grins, showing teeth, “I’m competitive by nature. And if I’m not mistaken that was what brought us together in the first place.” They stand there a little longer, swaying gently until Mav says,

“Wanna go read?” Ice smiles and presses a kiss to Mav temple.

“That sounds like the best end to a great day.” They had back downstairs where Bradley is snoring like a freight train and Natasha has disappeared. No doubt to her room. They wake Bradley and send him up to crash on what used to be Bob’s bed in Mickey’s room. He grumbles and mutters, but drags himself off the couch and up the stairs.

-/-/-/-

It’s nearing ten o’clock, later than they usually stay up, but their book has gotten too good to put down, when there’s a knock on the door. Ice stops reading mid sentence and lowers the book to look at Mav.

“Who the hell would be coming over this late?” Ice asks. The only person who might conceivably visit at this hour is Bradley, but as he’s asleep upstairs they’re both stumped. Ice pushes himself up out of his chair.

“Hmm.” Ice sticks his finger in the book to mark their page and takes it with him as he turns the corner. He flicks on the yard light and pulls the door open. A teenage boy is standing there, a back pack and a trash bag at his feet. Dried blood runs from a cut above his left eyebrow down his face and neck until it disappears into the collar of his coat. A coat that is clearly too short in the sleeves. There’s a very obvious hand print on his cheek and his left eye is definitely starting to swell and bruise. He sniffs and wipes his nose on his sleeve.

“Can I help you?” Ice asks.

“‘M lookin’ for Natasha Trace.” The boy says. “Sir.” He tacks on at the end. “‘M her boyfriend.” Ice’s brows shoot up. Mav had told him a little about Natasha’s boyfriend after he’d taken both him and Natasha to the anatomy scan for their baby, but the image he’d conjured in his mind is very different than the boy at the door.

“Oh. Well, why don’t you come in.” Ice steps aside and let’s the boy in. “I’ll go get Natasha.” Ice turns toward the stairs, leaving Jake in the entry way. As he walks by the living room entry Mav gets his attention.

“Who was it?”

“Natasha’s boyfriend.” Mav clearly has more questions, but Ice waves him off, telling him he has to go get Natasha. Mav rolls his eyes at Ice’s retreating form and hauls himself up off the couch. He steps into the entryway and his heart breaks a little at the sight that greets him.

Jake watches him approach, takes a step back, fight or flight instincts already starting to kick in, while trying desperately to pull his sleeves down and Mav can tell by the way he’s holding himself that his right leg is injured. His back pack and trash bag are sitting on his feet.

“Hey.” Mav says softly. “Why don’t you come into the kitchen? I’ll get you something to eat?” He offers. Jake gives him a scrutinizing look before nodding hesitantly.

Mav leads the way and heads straight for the fridge, pulling out leftovers from their dinner. Turkey and mashed potatoes, as well as assorted sides. He piles a significant portion onto a plate and pops it into the microwave. While it heats he pulls a small gel bead ice pack from the freezer and offers it to Jake who’s standing just inside the kitchen entry, bags held tightly in his hands. When Jake doesn’t make a move to accept it Mav leaves it on the table. Ice reappears with a sleep addled Natasha behind him just as the microwave beeps. Mav puts the plate, a fork and a glass of water on the table beside the ice pack before grabbing Ice and pulling him out of the kitchen so Jake and Natasha can talk.

They’re fully willing to admit, though only to each other, that they try to eavesdrop. They can’t make out any words, only quiet murmuring, followed by the faint thunk of what Mav assumes is Jake’s bags hitting the floor, and then someone crying. Despite how hard Ice tries to stop him, Mav peeks into the kitchen and almost wants to cry himself.

Jake and Natasha are hugging. Jake is clutching her shirt in both hands, face buried in her neck, shoulders shaking as he sobs. Natasha has one one hand in his hair and the other rubbing his back looking on the verge of tears herself.

Ice pulls him back before he gets noticed and can easily read the concern in Mav’s eyes. They return to the living room and sit down together on the couch.

“I don’t know what’s happened, but I’d bet anything he’s going to need somewhere to stay.” Mav tells Ice, holding his hand tightly. Ice hums in agreement.

“For tonight he can sleep on the couch.” Ice says and Mav nods, “Once Bradley leaves tomorrow he can share with Mickey.” Ice lifts their joined hands and presses a kiss to the back of Mav’s.

Natasha shuffles in, eyes red rimmed from crying.

“Is it-can he-um-”

“He can stay as long as he needs to.” Ice answers the question she can’t find the words to ask. “He can bunk down on the couch for tonight and we’ll make some space for him upstairs tomorrow.” Natasha smiles just a little and wipes at her eyes.

“Thank you.” She whispers before stepping back into the kitchen.

-/-/-/-

They make up a bed for Jake on the couch and Natasha helps him clean the blood off his face. Mav leaves two Tylenol on the coffee table beside a glass of water and after saying goodnight to both Jake and Natasha he follows Ice up to bed. They hear Natasha come up not long after and when Ice hears Jake follow her awhile later he decides not to worry about it. Clearly the boy needs some comfort, so going off the assumption that they aren’t stupid enough to have sex in his house, and with the knowledge that it’s not like it would really be an issue if they did(so long as they keep it down)seeing as Natasha is already pregnant, Ice rolls over and throws his arm across Mav’s stomach. He presses a kiss to Mav’s temple and murmurs a goodnight even though Mav is already asleep. It doesn’t take long for him to drift off.

-/-/-/-

In the morning Mav is up first and when he enters the living room to find the pillow and blanket exactly as he left them the night before he turns and goes right back upstairs.

The door to Natasha’s room is open just the tiniest bit, so Mav feels better about pushing it open enough to peek in. Jake and Natasha are spooning, Jake with an arm around Natasha’s baby bump. They’re so young and life has dealt them such a shitty hand. It’s unfair. And Mav finds himself completely willing to do anything to help them, to make their lives any easier if he can. If this is what they need, he’ll let them have it. He pulls the door to and leaves them be.

An hour later the kids start straggling into the kitchen in search of breakfast. Bradley’s hair is wild and he keeps yawning between sips of coffee, and Mickey doesn’t even look awake. Natasha comes in next, declining eggs when they’re offered, disgust clear in her features. Mav makes her a piece of toast instead. Jake limps in behind Ice, left eye swollen almost closed and bruised blue and purple. It looks significantly worse than it did the previous night. He has a Pikachu bandaid on his forehead. He’s dressed in jeans that are clearly at least one size too small, maybe two and a stained gray t-shirt thats about three sizes too big and falling off one shoulder.

He drops into the only vacant chair, beside Natasha, and accepts the plate of eggs and sausage Mav offers him, but mostly he just pokes at it with his fork. Natasha nibbles at her toast while holding Jake’s hand and Mav smiles. He and Ice share a look and he knows they’re thinking the same thing. Mav sets a plate in front of Ice and gives him a good morning kiss, briefly threading his fingers through Ice’s salt and pepper hair.

With breakfast consumed Mickey disappears back to his room, no doubt to enjoy his new toys. Bradley collects his things and heads home, ready for a shower and a change of clothes.

“Do you want some painkillers and ice?” Mav asks Jake. Jake won’t look at him, still pushing his food around his plate. Then he glances at Natasha before finally meets Mav’s eyes.

“Please.” He says, softly. Mav starts to stand, but Ice stops him, stands himself, grabs an ice pack from the freezer and hands it to Jake before he leaves the kitchen to find painkillers.

“I know you probably don’t want to talk, but I have to have some answers.” Mav tells them. Jake looks at Natasha again.

“I promise.” She says softly. Jake turns to look at Mav again.

“Got kicked out of my last home. Didn’t know where else to go. Nat said you’re good and you’ve been taking care of her.” Jake mumbles, looking far more tired than someone so young should.

“We’ve trying our best. And we’d be happy to take care of you as long as you need.” Mav assures him. “We have more than enough room.” Jake’s eyes are glassy with tears and he won’t look at Mav anymore. “I promise.” Natasha smiles, leaning over to whisper something in Jake’s ear. Whatever it is makes the first tears fall. Jake pushes his chair back, stands up and starts to leave. Natasha holds his hand loosely until she can’t. He turns the corner and Mav hears Ice offer him Tylenol.

Ice steps into the kitchen, worry etched into his features.

“Is he okay?” It’s a stupid question, really. It’s quite obvious that Jake is not ok. And probably hasn’t been in quite some time. Before Mav can respond Natasha is up and out of the room. She’s starting to waddle now and it’s becoming increasingly obvious her back bothers her.

“No.” Mav replies to Ice’s question. “Not right now.” Ice sighs and starts collecting dishes off the table.

-/-/-/-

Later that afternoon all three kids are in the living room watching a movie and Ice is in his office. Mav slips upstairs and into Natasha’s room. He grabs Jake’s clothes to look at sizes and when he has a rough idea of what’s needed he leaves again, doing his best to make Jake’s things look untouched.

“Hey,” he says, poking his head into Ice’s office, “I have to run some errands. Shouldn’t be more than a couple hours.”

“Ok. I need deodorant.” Ice replies without taking his gaze of the computer.

“Roger. Back in a bit. Love you.”

-/-/-/-/-

Mav comes back about three hours later with a huge armload of bags. Though there are a few things for other people most of the purchases are for Jake. Mav drags everything upstairs and takes the time to fold all the clothes neatly. Jake and Natasha are still in the living room so slips into Natasha’s room and leaves the piles of clothes neatly on the end of bed, alongside two pair of sneakers.

Later that evening Natasha and Jake go up to her room and find the clothes with a note on top in Mav’s neatest handwriting,

Merry Christmas, Jake. Don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything else.

Jake picks a pullover sweater from the top of the pile. It’s soft and red. He just stands there, rubbing the material between his fingers. He swallows the lump in his throat.

-/-/-/-

“Hey, Mira, it’s Pete Kazansky.” Pete says.

“Oh, Mr. Kazansky! Is Natasha ok?”

“Yes, yes, she’s fine. Ima cruelly calling in regards to Jake Seresin.”

“Do you know where he is?” She asks, urgency filling her voice.

“Yeah, he showed up at our door last night. He told me he got kicked out of his last home and I was wondering if there’s anyway we could be his foster parents.” He can hear the clacking of her keyboard.

“Let me make a call and I’ll get right back to you.” She ends the call and Mav can’t bring himself to anything, but sit and stair at the phone waiting for her to call back.

-/-/-/-/-

Taglist! @pollyna @simplyygabriella @daughter-of-infinity

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

India Lima Yankee- Chapter 43

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 1597

Warnings: Anxiety about death

Summary: Juliette Kazansky discovers Maverick is back in town for a special training detachment, but she's more than a little blindsided when Rooster arrives too. Having not spoken to him for almost ten years after their less than amicable break-up, Juliette can only imagine how the next few weeks are going to play out when she remains head over heels in love with him while he wants nothing to do with Juliette other than to forget her.

Or so she thinks.

Notes: The parts in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: The Man, The Legend/Touchdown Rest of My Life

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19 Chp 20 Chp 21 Chp 22 Chp 23 Chp 24 Chp 25Chp 26 Chp 27 Chp 28 Chp 29 Chp 30 Chp 31 Chp 32Chp 33 Chp 34 Chp 35 Chp 36 Chp 37 Chp 38 Chp 39 Chp 40 Chp 41 Chp 42 Chp 43

When you're about to die, they say your life flashes before your eyes, but all Rooster saw were his regrets and missed opportunities. He wouldn't get a chance to apologize to Maverick for all the pain he caused him, to explain how he'd missed him all these years despite his anger; Bradley wouldn't get to tell him that he checked up on Maverick when he hadn't heard from him or of him in a while, especially after the black op missions Mav got assigned to. Rooster wouldn't get to tell him that Goose hadn't been his only dad, that Maverick had been his dad too, and that he was the reason Rooster wanted to be a naval aviator. Maverick had been his role model, his idol, the man Rooster wanted to be when he grew up.

Bradley tried to speak, to apologize to his dad before they were killed, but whether it was the G-forces or the paralyzing fear of his impending death, nothing came out.

I'm sorry, Dad. I should've forgiven you a long time ago, but I forgive you now. I know you did everything you could to get us home alive, to get us back to Jules, and I love you.

Juliette... Bradley's head wanted to explode as images burst strong and bright in front of his eyes of the love of his life. He would never see her again, not her bright smile that lit up the room, or her sparkling blue eyes when something intrigued her, or her wavy blonde hair blowing in the breeze as they drove down the California highway in his Bronco while wearing aviators and singing along to their favorite songs. He wouldn't get to land on the carrier and sweep Juliette into his arms, to kiss her senseless and remind her how much she meant to him, to get down on one knee and propose to her like he should've done all those years ago. Bradley wouldn't get to see Juliette walk down the aisle in a wedding dress and slide the ring onto her finger. They wouldn't get to buy a home together and argue about colors and decorating, which Rooster knew Juliette would win anyway because she'd always had an eye for that sort of thing. They wouldn't get to start a family together. Rooster wouldn't get to pamper her while her belly grew with their child in it, he wouldn't get to hold his son or daughter in his arms, watch them grow up and graduate and marry. Rooster wouldn't get to grow old alongside Juliette, to see their hair turn gray with age, to sit in rocking chairs on their front porch while holding hands and reminiscing about their younger years. Bradley wouldn't get to live life with her.

Juliette, if you can hear me, India Lima Yankee. India Lima Yankee. India Lima-

The blaring alarm suddenly silenced, and, at first, Bradley figured he was dead and thought: At least it was quick. 

But when he opened his eyes, Rooster realized he remained very much alive and well. Confused, he whirled around to discover the enemy plane destroyed, nothing remaining of it except falling shrapnel and a black cloud, and through that smoke came-

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentleman," Hangman greeted cheerfully, his F-18 speeding towards them. "This is your savior speaking. Please fasten your seatbelts, return your tray tables to their locked and upright positions, and prepare for landing."

Rooster laughed at the man who used to annoy him so much. Of course, in such a stressful situation, Hangman would be making jokes and giving himself an ego boost, and it was a welcome sound. It meant Bradley was alive. It meant Maverick was alive. It meant Rooster could still hold his promise to Juliette.

Maverick double-tapped the glass of the canopy and gave the cocky aviator a thumbs-up. Meanwhile, Rooster said, "Hey, Hangman, you look good."

"I am good, Rooster. I'm very good," he replied. He flipped his plane to the side and dove towards the carrier. "I'll see you back on deck.

Maverick didn't turn or talk for a few moments. Only his heavy breathing could be heard. Rooster wanted to speak, but nothing he could think of sufficed yet, and right now, when everyone could listen to what they said, he didn't want to. He didn't like the idea of others overhearing what needed to be a private conversation.

Finally, the captain spoke. "Maverick is downwind. No front landing gear. No tailhook. Pull the cable and raise the barricade."

While the two exhausted aviators waited for the signal for clearance to land, Rooster watched as Maverick flew closer and closer to the control tower. If they hadn't pulled off such an impossible feat, Rooster would've been worried about the repercussions.

As they buzzed the tower, Rooster found himself compelled to exclaim, "Great balls of fire!"

Maverick laughed, circling back around to face the landing strip. He lined up the plane, and as they approached, an all too familiar sound made Rooster's heart drop. He said, "Please don't tell me we lost an engine."

"All right, I won't tell you that," Maverick replied, giving away the answer anyway.

Fuck. All right, here we go. "Okay."

Rooster braced himself in the seat, preparing for what he predicted would be a hard and bumpy landing. The carrier rapidly approached, and his eyes involuntarily shut as the F-14 touched ground violently, throwing him forward. The jet screeched and slid along the landing strip. When it came to a stop, both men remained momentarily stunned in silence, only broken when Maverick asked, "You good?"

Rooster sighed in relief and nodded. "Yeah, I'm good."

The canopy lifted, and as it did, Rooster saw the horde of people surrounding them, cheering and yelling exuberantly. He scanned the crowd, searching for the blonde hair that stuck out like a sore thumb amongst all the helmets and dark hair. His heart sank a little when Juliette couldn't be found, but Rooster reminded himself she'd probably been down below with Cyclone and Warlock and that they hadn't made their way up yet. 

Still beaming, Bradley took a deep breath and crawled out of the F-14 and on deck. There to greet him were Phoenix and Payback, the former of whom pulled him into a tight hug. As they pulled apart, Rooster caught another figure approaching out of the corner of his eye, a blonde. He turned to face them. Hangman stopped in front of Rooster and, without a word, held out his hand. Bradley smiled and shook it, causing a grin to break out across Hangman's face.

"Chalked yourself another kill," Rooster remarked, and although he wouldn't say this in a million years aloud, he was proud of Hangman.

"That makes two," Jake pointed out.

"Mav has five," Phoenix interjected proudly. "Makes him an ace."

The realization made Rooster and Hangman glance at each other, both understanding that as good as they were, they weren't at Mav's level, not yet.

At the mention of Maverick's name, Rooster whirled on his heel, searching for the short pilot. Through the horde of people, he caught a glimpse of his dad, and Rooster hastily maneuvered his way over to him, shouting over the cacophony, "Captain Mitchell! Captain Mitchell!"

Maverick faced him at the second sound of his name, and when Rooster approached, all words fled his mind. All he could muster up to say was "Sir," but even that seemed to be enough for Maverick because the captain, without warning, hooked his arm around Rooster's neck and pulled him into a tight hug. Bradley eagerly returned, a knot slowly rising in his throat. He'd missed Mav's hugs.

When the two men pulled apart, Maverick said, "Thank you for saving my life."

Rooster thought back to all the times and stories he'd heard: Maverick disobeying direct orders to help Cougar land; Maverick saving Iceman from five bogeys and refusing to leave his wingman's side even though he risked getting shot down himself; Maverick chasing after Coyote and getting a lock on him and shouting his name, anything to wake up the aviator before he crashed into the ground; Maverick flying alongside Phoenix and Bob while her plane was on fire, desperately trying to get them to eject and nearly crashing into the ground himself going after them; and Maverick using the Cobra maneuver to save Rooster's life with flares even though he surely knew he would get hit by the second missile. If the roles had been reversed, Maverick would've gone back for Rooster. With all this in his mind, Bradley replied, "It's what my dad would've done."

He finally got to say the words. He finally got to tell Maverick, in a way, that he was still Rooster's dad, and judging by the subtle tears glistening in Maverick's eyes, he understood what Bradley meant. Without another word, Mav pulled him into a second hug, and Rooster all but buried his face into his dad's shoulder. Peace washed over him, and although there was so much more to say, they were not in a place for the full conversation that needed to happen.

The two men separated, allowing the others to reach them and congratulate them. Coyote lifted Rooster into an air hug, Bob and Halo gave him a normal hug, Payback and Fanboy slapped him proudly on the back, and the others gave him stinging high-fives, but noticeably, Juliette remained missing from the group, and as Rooster made the rounds with all the people, all he could think of was finding her.

***

Tags: @lgg5989 @shanimallina87 @polikszena @summ3rlotus @souslesyeuxde @gleasonmalfoy @icemansgirl1999 @supernaturaldawning @thedarkinmansfield @lyannaforpresident @lapilark @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @simpofthecentury @shadeops21 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @double-j @picklejuicesposts @bradshawsandbridgetons @majdoline @jakexfmc @catsandgeekyandnerd @peachiicherries @multifandomcnova @fandomsstolemylife00 @bookloverhorses @nicangelinee @mak-32

[soft-boi-eli]

Mcyts helping a trans masc after top surgry (part 2)

Tw:swearing, mentions of surgry, softness.

Karl

This sweet ass man.

You are just laying on your bed, well sitting really, when he came in.

He had a fuck ton of balloons. And a large box.

Karl seemed like a child on christmas.

Placing the balloons down he handed you the surprisingly light box.

He was gently bouncing as he waited for you to open it.

It shocked you how it even fit in the box.

It was a huge frog bed.

You realized with a pillow you would be able to sleep in it perfectly.

"I knew it was uncomfortable sleeping like that so I got something that should make it a bit more comfortable."-karl

You loved it.

Sadly you couldnt use it till those drains were out though.

He was right though that was definitely more comfortable then laying on a bed only.

He didnt think it through though. And got sad when he wasn't able to fully cuddle you.

But he found out that he could lay on your lap and legs.

You both enjoyed it.

Also he might be a bit squeamish when it came to your chest drains but he was helpful with them.

He helped you clean them and your wounds, he was very, very gentle.

He didnt want to hurt you.

"You know it's ok to do it a little harder. It wont hurt."-(y/n)

"But I dont want to hurt you. I know this doesn't hurt."-karl.

It was sweet. But got kinda annoying sometimes when he couldnt get something off. But he never got angry or frustrated. Just kept very gentle.

I imagine that when he was cleaning your new scars, Jimmy came to see if you got his balloons and if you doing good.

You two were in the living room bowl of warm soapy water, in a large plastic bowl, and karl gently wiping off all of the crust around the scars.

You fell asleep before karl finished and karl was finishing up when jimmy came in.

"Karl. They're alseep."-jimmy

"Yeah but this needs to be cleaned. It doesn't hurt them."-karl

Jimmy and karl literally just sat there till you woke up.

You thanked jimmy for the balloons and thanked karl for helping you clean those wounds.

Karl didnt mind though. Cause this sweet heart cares for you and just wants you to feel better and feel comfortable.

Quackity

He loves you and all but dont expect him to help with the surgical sight.

He'll do everything for you except clean your wounds and drain those drains.

He loves to hug you and kept you warm.

He would stream but you were always behing the green screen so no one would see you.

"Alex. Can you get me to book I left in the living room. I feel like shit still."-(y/n)

He was very quick to get it. And I mean he bolted out got it and brought it in the span of a minute. He gave you a light kiss on the forehead, and whispered.

"Anything for you mi amoir."-quackity.

You gave him a smile.

"Simp."-(y/n)

He gasped offended and looked at you.

"Well only for you though."-quackity.

I imagine as a get well gift quackity would get you something to remind you of him when he streams.

Large duck push.

He knew that his streams could last a long time so he decided it was best if you had a snuggle buddy to help you stay in position.

If the duck got dirty he was cleaned nearly immediately by quackity.

If the duck falls off the bed quackity gently yeets it onto the bed where you can reach.

He might of gotten jealous of the duck a few times. But he seemed to get over it when you went to hugging him instead. Sadly it wasnt that easy to but still none the less you gave him hugs too.

Dont neglect you quack boi.

He needs hugs like you do.

Give them to him. These are the only times you get cuddles. Other then that he is making food, getting you comfy, and fixing your pillows and shit like that.

He is now a maid.

Not sexually though. He just cleans the house, get you things you need, and makes food.

He is helpful.

Just not with the cleaning process of your wounds. And that's fine. He keeps you comfy and that's all that matters.

Also if your cold in the middle of hot ass summer and asking for more blankets he would look at you crazy. Like what the fuck?

But you have them lightly fluttered over you.

He wants you comfy. Even if that means you looking like your boiling alive in the middle of july.

If your happy he's happy. That's how it goes

Badboyhalo

Badboyhalo?

More like dadboyhalo.

He is not going to let you do anything.

Your surgical incisions? He's cleaning them.

Your drains? He's got you.

Your getting alot of soup and smoothies. He even joins in on your so called diet so you wont get jealous about what he has.

Rat is all over you. Sensing the pain you were having and cuddling you completely. Your laps is almost always taken by rat.

Badboyhalo doesn't really care if rat gets alot of attention by you. He just wants you to be comfortable.

But sometimes he gets sad that he cant fully lay with you.

But he enjoys just sitting with you and talking through the nights you cant really sleep.

He gets you a stuffed cat, you use it mainly as a pillow and sometimes hug it when bad is streaming.

"It reminded me of you when I saw it."-bad

Your heart melted.

He loved your reactions to the little sweet gesters he did. It brought him joy to know you were able to relax and trust him at this moment and time.

You get a free swearing pass. He knows you hurt really bad at times but he lightly says language when on stream.

You understood though. He had kids watching too.

You were grumpy one day, bad took rat because of a rat cam stream. And all you wanted was to be warmed up by something else then a blanket.

You were sittinging there looking at bad as he streamed.

You could technically get up and grab rat but he my tell you not to.

So you quietly patted your lap.

Rat immediately seemed to notice and run over to you, jumping onto the bed and laying in your lap.

You felt accomplished and tired so you fell asleep.

Rat leaving made the chat confused but bad explained that you were healing from a surgery.

Chat wished you a good recovery and told bad to go and comfort you. Even though you were asleep.

He tried to explain it but the donations kept yelling at him.

So he ended stream and laid next to you and rat.

This was comfortable.

Eret

Eret, they were a whole 'nother story.

This fabulous being is like a maid service in one.

They have two outfits they wore when you were upset.

A maid outfit and a butler outfit.

You just got home, you were in pain, sitting up and swaddled in blankets and Goose was trying to smother you at this point.

Eret was streaming and you were sitting there in the background, blankets, pain, and goose exsiting.

You didnt know eret was talking about you because you were falling asleep. Eret nor you expected what their followers did.

Her door was bombarded with packages addressed to you. Decorated with words about getting well soon, that they were proud of you, even some saying you were their rolemodle.

Eret decided to have a stream of you opening them.

Let's just say alot of them were food, candies, even foreign food and drinks. Someone made you a homemade blanket in the trans colors.

Best part about that blanket, it was heated.

You were using it immediately as you were freezing.

Eret just chuckled and rubbed your shoulder as you opened them.

Needless to say they are proud of you, happy that you were one huge step closer to who you were.

All they wanted was your happiness.

Niki

She's a sweetheart.

Need I say more?

Well I will because fuck you I can.

Constant cuddles, be it only her head in your lap, it is almost always happening.

When you have to take your pain meds she is instantly on it, do you want soup or a smoothie? You cant decide? She'll make it a surprise.

If you dont live with her then you're staying with her while you are recovering. She doesn't want you alone when you are in pain.

You'll be bedridden until she thinks you're okay.

If she deems you as not fit for doing something she's on it. Drop you glasses for reading/drawing/writing/typing. You bet your ass as soon as she heard that clack and you groan she's picked it up and it's on your lap.

Also makes sure you're good with streaming.

If you say your good with it that day it's a calm stream. There is no lore happening when you're healing everyone was fine with that due to the fact that niki would have to sit out and the lore was with her as well so that couldn't happen.

Will came to visit...

Saw you, took pity, and now you're stuck with two people showering you in affection and comfort.

You saw Wilbur as a brother. And wilbur saw you as his younger brother. So he literally felt the pain when he saw you wince.

Niki thought it was cute and comforted both of you.

Anyways she saw something before your surgery and decided that you needed it.

It would make you feel better.

It made you laugh.

You regretted laughing but loved the hoodie.

It fit so well and it was beautiful, you also were thinking about buying it one day because you could.

But niki beat you to it.

Wilbur didnt stop laughing.

I mean who blames him.

You literally just Yeeted your tits. And niki got you something that said yeet right on top of it.

It worked perfectly.

Also when niki's not cuddling you zuko is.

End of story, you're seriously stuck with cuddles no matter what. Be it from an animal or a human.

Wilbur wont cuddle you more of give you head pats.

Niki normally streamed with you there with her unless lore stream.

So when the second day after your surgery, she had streamed, and you weren't there her chat started asking questions. Wondering if you were good, if something happened.

That's when you raised from your dead sleep, zuko falling off your stomach, shirtless, just to go grab some sock as your toes felt like they would fall off.

Chat seemed relived but started questioning the binder and all that.

Niki explained that you got top surgery and that you were healing still.

"He's looking like he wants to die right now. Are you sure he's fully okay?"-dono

"Yeah I'm good. Just stubbed my toe as well."-you.

Niki was quick to rush over and help you back to the bed.

"Just sit down I'll get you your water hun."-niki

She was quick to fill your bottle up and place it next to you on the table next ot the bed.

She's such a big help not matter what honestly.

She loves you and will do anything for you.

I am sorry this took so long. Just had a very unstable mental state. Also sorry if they seem oc. I'm once more not on a good mental state and have been trying to work on this.

So yeah if I dont post in a bit I'm so sorry just stressing alot. Insomnia is kicking me so hard.

My grandma broke her foot, she's all good though.

And I have taken up most things in my house as I live with both my mother and grandmother still.

But yeah I apologize for the break just gonna try to let myself get better. It might take a bit. It might be quite short I dont know. I just need to get more sleep.

Eli is very tired now. Bye.

[bowieandqueen11]

Set Me Dreaming / Bucky Barnes Imagine

Request: can you do a bucky fic where reader catches him awake in the middle of the night and fighting off some of his troubles? like maybe bucky resists any type of consolation until he finally succumbs. i am open to any of your ideas/own interpretation! thank you!! <3

Yes I can thank you!! Also Mr Barnes it’s been seven years and I am still looking respectfully 👀 

If you like, please comment and reblog!

(The lyrics are Moonlight Serenade by Glenn Miller/ Frank Sinatra (we’re just going to pretend this version came out at the right time aha), and I got them from Google!)

You haven’t heard this song since that night in 1943. Since the night he proposed. Since the night he left. Since the night you lost your Bucky.

‘The stars are aglow and tonight how their light sets me dreaming.’

It takes you a moment to see in the darkness of the little New York Apartment you and Bucky had managed to scrounge up the money to pay for. It certainly needed some work, and sometimes you missed that smell of antiseptic and apple pie - that warmth familiarity of Bucky patching Steve up after a fight with one hand, and trying to copy his mom’s old recipes as a treat for when you got home from work in the other. This place only smelt of car fumes, and a certain stench of must and old pine that was just a sucker punch to the stomach every time you entered. Every time the two of you were reminded how stranded Steve had left you. Buck had tried to cook for you, once, a couple of weeks ago, but you had come home to find him sitting slouched, crying, on the kitchen tiles as he sobbed out how his mind couldn’t remember the measurements his mom had written down. But it didn’t matter, you think as you finally spot the sound of the noise. Wherever and whenever you had Buck, you were home. Even if everything needed work, it was worth it.

The record player swirls slowly from its spot on the kitchen counter, languid in its spinning as the familiar notes bounce around the confining walls and fill the place, and the city, with its warm jazz. At this time of night, there’s little to compete with the rippling trumpets, or the baritone voice - just the faraway sound of car horns and the jagged breathing of something coming from the fire escape. For a moment, you jump, forgetting yourself, forgetting you weren’t trapped in Hydra anymore. And then your heart starts to drop as you untangle yourself from the blankets, getting up from where you were holding your fiancée on the floor, to spot his sitting with his back to you. His eyes are gone. You don’t know how you can tell, solely just from the rise and fall of his naked back. You just know him too well, you suppose.

He’s gone from you, at the moment, eyes glazed with a faraway mist as he looks down at flashing, neon lights and dirt-tramped streets of the city he used to know like the back of his hand. But he’s not there either. No, his mind has wandered away with the song, memories allowing him some reverie by thinking back on that day. On you. A warm glow flashes through his eyes, a smile threatening to twitch at the corners of his lips as he pictures you, the love of his life, hand intertwined with his. He had sobbed against your lips that night, forehead pressed tightly against yours as he gazed at you with terrified eyes, drinking in every feature of your face as if he knew it would be the last time he would see it. If he was going to die, he wanted to make damn sure that the last thing that ever passed his mind was you. He could die happy then, knowing that he had been given one proper, good thing in his life, feeling safe in the memory that he had loved it well. That he would go knowing he would love you forever. You pretend not to feel him shake in your grasp as you dig your fingers into your shoulder, pulling him tighter against your chest and whispering sweet nothings into the dance hall, the thought of him leaving the next morning plaguing your every thought.

‘My love, do you know that your eyes are like stars brightly beaming?’

He could barely get the words out that night, he had to mouth them against your lips and hope, his silly, foolish hope, that you would agree to marry a man who was being shipped of the next day. He just needed to go knowing that he was yours, thinking the last twenty five years you had spent joint at the hip would sway you towards the sentimental and you would agree to let him be yours, even if only for a day. It didn’t matter, he knew, as his lips trembled against your own, clenching his eyes shut to try and stop the tears spilling down as you nod your head vigorously. It didn’t matter how long you had in this life, he would be yours forever.

‘I love you, doll. I love you so much it hurts.’

‘Don’t you know I love you the same, Buck?’

He doesn’t feel you come up behind him, placing your hands on his back. Every muscle seems to be jumping out of his skin, skin flush and like a furnace to the touch, but you just wrap your arms around his waist and pull him against your back. Glancing round to see your Bucky’s face, his stubble tickles your cheek as you sigh. He’s still puffing out breath into the cold night’s air, eyes glossy and wet and by grief, filled with so much pain and love and fear that it breaks your heart. 

‘I bring you and sing you a moonlight serenade.’

Then he remembers falling. Feeling weightless in the water, gazing up at the blanket of grey sky above him, at peace in the knowledge that you were here with him, your picture still tucked into his jacket and your face the only thing he saw when he looked up at the sky, at the stars. When he finally closed his eyes, and let himself drift away to you. Then he remembers the pain. The pain of remembering you while he was tied down to that chair, jaw clenched and lips threatening to spill his sobs as they punished him for remembering you, again and again and again and again, until the end, he buries you into a pocket of his mind he hopes Hydra can’t touch. He remembers the plea that used to fall from his lips as they hit him, the tremble in his fingers once he woke up and realised that he, that James, that the Winter Soldier was holding a gun against the head of someone he had never even seen before. Not in his lifetime. But he does what he’s meant to do, what he’s told to do, finger pulling the trigger as some thought twitches at the back of his mind, telling him to keep going. To always carry out his missions, saving the world, saving you.

He doesn’t feel your lips brush against his forehead as he begins to gasp now, almost fighting back against your touch. But you only reach out to steady him, grabbing his biceps as you swing yourself over the barrier to kneel down in front of him, fingers tight as he finally starts to settle himself again. You reach up slowly, careful not to startle him away from whatever pain is haunting him, and brush his hair away from his damp forehead. You don’t miss the way he subconsciously drops his head towards your touch, the almost inaudible sigh of relief that brushes against your nose.

He finally starts to remember himself, remember where he is, eyelashes fluttering open and closed quickly. He nearly bursts into tears right there and then when he spots you, wide eyed and obviously shivering from the cold in front of him. 

‘Buck. Buck - James. It’s okay, we’re okay. You’re here with me, not back there. It’s alright.’

‘Sweetheart-’, he starts, squirming within himself as he scrambles closer to you. ‘A-are you real? You’re really here?’

‘Of course I am, Buck. I’m never leaving you. Never again.’

For a moment there’s a comfortable silence, a knowing moment of trust and understanding between the two of you, before you tug on his metal arm. He gives it to you willingly, the only person he’ll allow to touch the metal without feeling revolted with himself. You pull gently at his fingers, silently pleading for him to unfurl his fists. His breath shakes, knowing it was the same way you had brought him back to himself that day Helicarrier when he had been sent to kill you. The cruellest trick fate had ever played on him. He still cried about it in his dreams, eyes strained and throat hollow with screams as he strained against you, trying time and time again to stop his arms from hurting you. To stop himself from drowning just by the thought of you.

You- you were real. You were here, and then he found himself full on sobbing again. You shush him gently, jumping up to pull his hands away from his face, away from where he had shoved them into his eyes to try and stop himself. Yet he only grabs onto his shirt that you were wearing, fingers clenching and fists white as he pulls you down to straddle his thighs. He nestles his head into your neck, pulling you tight into his arms until he couldn’t be sure where he ended and where you began. As if there had really ever been a difference for him, anyway. You brush your hand through his hair, appreciating the little hum of delight he tried to give you as your fingers scrape the nape of his neck. He sniffles against your skin, but he’s alright. He knows that you would do anything for him. Your soulmate, your Bucky.

And Bucky knew, as he held you against him, that he would never let you go again. He knew that he couldn’t pretend he was alright anymore, that somehow and someway he would have to make amends for everything he has done - everything he has put you through. Yet some warm hope fizzled at the bottom of his heart as he felt your engagement ring bump against the goose bumps of his back, knowing he still owed you a wedding as well. 

His hands are so soft, so gentle, so careful, as he grips onto your waist. His nose bumps against your forehead the same way it had that night, all those years ago, before you had lost him. His tears stain your shirt again, and although he knew he was different now, he also knew there was still some of James Buchanan Barnes left. He knew, because you had his heart, this whole time.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Words: 5000+

Rating: M

Pairing: Benimaru (TSSK) x Reader

Summary: You were husband & wife in name only.

AO3

The moon was bright & crisp in the sky over Rimuru. Even without your candle light, you would probably be able to see clearly into your mirror as you brushed out your hair, preparing for bed. It had been a challenging day.

Keeping Shion and Shuna from destroying their Lord with their love was a full-time job sometimes. Being the buffer between them was sometimes more than your poor human body could take; a fact Rimuru-sama was often concerned about. You usually brushed it off with a ‘better me than you’ remark as his peril would be far more of a detriment to others than you, but appreciated his concern. Besides, neither ogre-ess would intentionally hurt you. Worst you’d ever come away with before was a good goose egg from Shion swinging around Hercules’s willy-nilly and caught you in the back of the head. It was an accident, and she could have easily crushed your head like a melon, but Shion still cried for almost 3 days after every time she saw you in apology.

You chuckle a little at the memory. How wonderfully problematic your life had become in this past year. You wouldn’t call it ‘blissful’. It had it’s challenges like most. But your life taken an interest, wonderful turn that had led you to this life you wouldn’t trade anything for. You were safe. You were loved. You were a respected person when just some months ago you were nobody and nothing. How quickly the world turns.

A knock at your door halted the comb in your tresses and you look up surprised by the sound. “Who is it?” You ask. Curious who would be at your door so late at night.

“It’s me.” Your eyes blink in surprise as you hear the familiar deep timber of Benimaru behind the frame. “May I come in?”

You stammer out a reply of ‘one moment’ as you adjust yourself to make your appearance more presentable and told him to come in. It was embarrassing to have him see you in your night clothes. But if he was coming here so late at night, it must be important. Your husband never came to your chambers this late at night.

The title of ‘husband’ was in name only. You and Benimaru were not romantically involved, nor had you chosen each other completely of your own free will. He had saved you, along with Rimuru-sama and the rest of the Kijin, when they defeated the great bandit army that had been sweeping the east. Once just thugs of human and monsters alike, they had grown into a real threat in the land taking anything they please. Money. Goods. Women. When they came to your small village, they had burned it down and had taken you with them when they left. You were their prisoner and slave for nearly two months before Rimuru-sama and his band had come along.

You still remember seeing them for the first time. Bright and regal. A peasant before being a slave, you had never seen such fine strange clothes before. Nor the impending presence of the man in front of you when he’d come upon you.

“I claim this woman as my own.” They were the first words he’d ever said to you. Then he picked you up over his shoulder and carried you away with his band while the smoldering embers of the great bandit army died out in the distance.

 At first, you thought it was all going to be the same. One capture was no different than the last; though you were a little concerned about an ogre being your master than a human. But how much worse could it be? The last human captor you had had been a true monster. Being owned by a real one could not be that different. Or at least that was what you thought at first.

The ogres and Rimuru-sama had been impossibly kind. They tended to your wounds from your long capture. Gave you a place to sleep. Clothes. Fed you, although there was some debate on which ogre-ess’s cooking would ‘best suit you’, and treated you as an equal. You were incredibly moved by their generosity. They were even willing to take you home. And when you told them “I have no home” they seemed genuinely hurt by that.

You of course explained to them what happened, and realized now that you really had no place to go. You thought you would die in the bandit camp. So the thought had never crossed your mind where you would go should your imprisonment be over. You were lost and alone in the world. No money. No home. No family. Even if you left, who was to say you wouldn’t be taken up by another group who found your helplessness easy pickings? Or worse, going to that life on your own because you had no other choices…..

“You’re staying here.” Benimaru had announced, much to the surprise of everyone. “You’re my woman now, remember? I defeated those fools and claimed you as my prize. This is your home now. You’re staying here.”

There was a loud commotion from the group as they all thought he had been joking but, apparently, he wasn’t. While the energetic group argued, you looked at Benimaru critically and realized what he was doing. He knew that if you didn’t belong to someone, you could easily be taken by another. If not the remanences of the great bandit army, but someone else; as you feared. Being his woman, letting him lay claim, offered you protection you couldn’t afford on your own. “Ok,” you’d told him. Your soft voice somehow ringing out over the crowd.

Rimuru-sama had of course forbade his general from ‘keeping’ a woman. He said if he wanted to do this, he would have to do the honorable thing and marry you. It had been surprising how quickly he agreed. Then asked if you would be alright with it and you’d said yes. You had been married the next day, and were then husband & wife, and that was the end of it.

Your married life was that of about the same as anyone else in the close group. You weren’t intimate. You didn’t share secrets or stories. You didn’t even sleep in the same quarters of the estate. Aside from a few group outings, communal meals, and when he popped in on Shuna when you were around, you honestly rarely saw your ‘husband’.

Which was why it was so surprising he was here now, at this late hour.

“What is it Benimaru-sama? Is something wrong?” You ask, looking up at him from where you’d been sitting on the floor before he sat down too. His expression was placid, so it was hard to tell if something was going on.

“The envoy from Blumund is leaving tomorrow.” His eyes fixed on the hardwood under your knees.

“Yes, I know. He told me. He’s a little hard to miss.” You reply with a soft chuckle.

The envoy in question was a nice man. Tall, lean. A little bit older than you, but still a jovial person. Rimuru-sama had set you with the important task of keeping him company and being his escort during his stay. His immediate council in the Kijin were nice, but they sometimes lack the social grace or understanding of human culture. He didn’t want to offend the man and trusted you could keep him company during his stay.

“He’s rather taken with you.” Benimaru then stated. Taking you a bit by surprise. “He wants to take you back to Blumund with him.”

Your bit of surprise turned into full blown shock. “W…What are you talking about??”

“He wants to take you back to Blumund with him.” He repeated. As if somehow that made you understand completely. “He said he thinks you’re very beautiful, and charming, and that it would be a better fit for you to live among humans, rather than here in Rimuru with none of them. He talked to Rimuru-sama about this.”

“And Rimuru-sama told you about this?”

“I was there.” Benimaru stated after he shook his head. “He asked for us to severe our bond so you could go with him. So you could marry him.”

Your eyes probably bug out of your head now. Were you being proposed to by proxy by your own husband?!?

“How could he ask such a thing?!”

“Like I said, he’s taken with you.”

“That’s not the point! How am I supposed to marry someone else when I’m already married?!”

“He knows our marriage isn’t consummated.” His eyes finally look up to catch yours.

You feel your whole body turn red. Now you have to look away to stare at the floor. It was true. Your marriage wasn’t consummated. It had been something done to offer you protection and stability. It had never been about love. So you have never laid with your husband as he wished to respect your virtue. “How crude.” You mutter. Embarrassed, more than anything, as you were sure people knew about your unclaimed marriage, but no one would dare bring it up until now.

“Do you want to go with him?”

You look up again and offer a soft noise of surprise at the question. “Do you want to go with him?” He repeated. “As you said, he’s a good man. He has fortune, and power. You’d be a respected woman among your people. You’d be among your people.” Maybe you imagined it, but you thought you saw Benimaru wince at that. “You don’t have to stay here anymore. You don’t have to stay with me. You’re established enough now to make your own choices. You can be free.”

Free? The word played over in your head for a moment. The sheer concept completely foreign to you at the moment.

You’d never been free. First you belonged to your family. Then the bandits. Then Benimaru. Though you had freedom on occasion, you had never been truly free. And now that you had it, you found the idea ironically suffocating. You could choose to leave. Leave Rimuru City and start a new life as a woman of prominence in Blumund. But what if you didn’t want to leave?

“D…Do you want me to leave?” The kijin looked up at you again with a confused expression at your soft words. “If you want me to leave I will. But…I don’t want to leave all of you. I love being here, and being with Shion, and Shura, Rimuru-sama and….you. My ‘people’ have never been kind to me, so I really don’t want to go back to them. I want to stay here. We don’t have to be married anymore, if that’s the problem. We can still break our bond, if that’s what you want. But I’d like to – “That’s not what I want!”

Your eyes flicker up. Startled by the red Kijin’s roar and the burning fire resting in his eyes. “I don’t want to break our bond! I don’t want you to go with him! Do you have any idea how hard it was not to tear that man’s head off at the table when he said that?! I wanted to gouge his eyes out for saying you were beautiful! I wanted to rip out his heart out for ever letting you rest in it! You’re my woman, and my wife, and he thinks he can just say those things to me and live! He should kiss Rimuru-sama’s feet before he leaves because he’s the only reason that wretch is still breathing!”

Silence passed between you for a moment as you were completely stunted into speechlessness by Benimaru’s words. You had never expected such a passionate response out of the man. Until now, you were sure his only feelings toward you were ambivalence and mild friendship. The way he just ‘my wife’ to you, however, let you know that he had thought of this more than just a marriage of convenience. Your body flushed hot again as your heart beat hammered in your chest. “Benimaru….sama?”

“Don’t go with him.” The kijin repeated. Calmer this time as his expression seemed to morph into sadness at the thought of you leaving. “I can’t stand the idea of you leaving with him. When we first met, and I took you as my woman & wife, I will admit that I did it out of pity for you. You lost everything, and had nothing. I know what that’s like and wished to spare you. I thought that, after a few months, you would have a good enough reputation as the former wife of the Ogre Prince, Commander of the Jura forces, that we could break our bond honorably and you could make your own path in the world without fear. But, as time went on, I became more and more attached to you. Your kindness in spite of everything you endured. Your determination. Your desire to work hard to make things better for everyone here. I grew to fall in love with you and I couldn’t let you go. I know it was selfish, and that I’m being selfish now, but please don’t go.”

Your heart was still hammering so hard in your chest that you were scared you might faint. You felt like you could swoon at any moment. “Why didn’t you ever tell me this before?”

He looked down and started to fidget. “I was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same.” His confession less confident this time. “You weren’t really given much of a choice in our marriage. I was afraid that you thought of me as just another man who had taken you. If you didn’t feel the same I could live with it, but knowing was – “That’s not true!”

It was Benimaru’s turn for his eyes to flicker up and be stunned by your confession. Apparently you had more in common than you thought. “I’ve never thought of you that way! If anything, I’ve only ever seen you as my rescuer. You saved me from a horrible existence as a slave. You gave this life that is so wonderful. With friends, and people I can’t live without anymore. I can’t begin to repay you.  Or tell you how I feel….”

All these feelings and emotions were rushing to the surface now the more you spoke. You had always been fond of Benimaru. Your strong, brave protector. You just assumed that he wanted nothing to do with you. The distance he put between you making it very clear. So you had pushed your feelings toward the back of your heart. Forgetting them until now, where they crashed to the front like a dam had burst.

“[Y/N]….” You look up into the red head’s eyes when he said your name. Whispered it, really, like it was some secret plea. His hand then reached out slowly to cup your cheek. Those battle calloused hands incredibly gentle against your skin. You really might swoon at the juxtaposition.

Those burning red orbs look at you in earnest before they flicker down to your lips. A silent request. One you eagerly receive.

The only time you had kissed your husband before this was at your wedding. To seal your bond. That, however, had been just a simple peck on the lips to meet the contract. This was a real kiss. Your lips pressing together in committed passion. Intense, but both of you still too shy it seemed to go past pressing your lips soundly together.

“[Y/N],” Benimaru said again as you press your foreheads together after your kiss. You don’t ever think you’ve heard your name sound so sweet. “Become my woman and my wife. Truly. You didn’t get a choice when we first met, but I ask you this now to make your own decision. Will you be mine?”

Your heart swelled unbearably tight in your chest before you nodded against his forehead. “Yes. Yes, I want to be your woman and your wife. Truly.”

You can feel the smile on his lips when he kissed you again. More deeply this time. His tongue snaked into your mouth against yours. The way he was kissing you making your legs feel weak to the point that you were happy you were sitting down. However, if they had buckled, your strong husband could easily pick you up in his arms. A shiver racing down your spine at the lewd thought that had just passed through you.

“Aah…I knew it. This is why I stayed away from you.” Benimaru said, finally letting you go. Your lips were kiss swollen now, and you were having a hard time understanding what he was talk about. “Every time I was near you, I wanted to claim you.” He explained. His expression looking deliriously happy as he examined his handiwork on your lips. “It was so hard to even be in the same room as you with your scent always hounding me every moment I was near. I had to stay away so I wouldn’t do anything horrible to you. But then that was its own torture as well. Near, apart. Both were an agony I couldn’t face somedays. Now that I have you though, I’ll never let you away from my side. You’ve summoned the beast in me. I hope you’re prepared.”

A loud squeak left your lips as the sneaky ogre flipped you. Instantly going from sitting on your ankles to flat on your back. Your world righted again and was filled with Benimaru as he leaned on top of you. His expression soft but heated, making you blush, before he kissed you again. His weight on top of you now making you moan wanton into the kiss this time.

Your world was filled with passionate kisses. They steal your breath away and make you squirm under your husband. You then feel his hands on your side. Touching you. Caressing your curves. You feel them fumbling around for your kimono tie, unwilling to let your lips go for even a moment to get to it properly, and place your hand on his chest.

“Benimaru, wait.”

The kijin stopped instantly and sat back off you. His eyes questing into your own to see what was wrong.

“I just….I thought I should…I mean we never…I’m not…” You stumble over the words to say to him. To explain that you weren’t the maiden he might have hoped for. The words cling in your throat as images of your former life flash across your mind. You feel unworthy. Dirty. Then his hand reached out to you brush your cheek again. Causing one of the tears that were welling up in your eyes to fall against it.

“That doesn’t matter to me.” He said with assurity and a softness that could only be described as love. “It doesn’t change how I feel about you. I love you as you are now. Not who you could be. My only regret is that I couldn’t kill those bastards 100 times more over for ever having hurt you.”

You scoff out a chuckle at the violent decree said so sweetly. You hand came up to clasp his own. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You could never disappointment.” He replied, almost instantly. Then kissed your hand as he brought it to his lips once he removed it from your cheek. “Do you wish to stop? We don’t have to do this now. I can be satisfied with you declaring you want to be my woman and my wife. Well….contented.”

You chuckle again, more light hearted this time, and leaned in to initiate your kiss this time. “I meant what I said. I want to be your woman and your wife truly. I don’t want to stop.”

A sigh of relief left Benimaru. The prince willing to stop if you wanted but clearly so glad you didn’t. You giggle and let him take you in his arms.

The momentary pause in your kissing afforded Benimaru the chance to undo your kimono tie. Loosening it and letting it fall, but not pushing the thin material of your actual robe off your body yet. You reach out for him as well to undo the clasp of his overcoat. The heavy material immediately falling of his shoulders, in contrast, once the hold was released. He seemed fascinated with your work as your hands untie his under coat as well.

“Your touch is like fire.”

“Is that a joke?” You ask when Benimaru growled those words at you. Your apex quivering at the sound, but still curious if he was making a joke.

He chuckled. Another shiver at your core. “No. But I guess I can see how it would be. I mean it though. Everywhere you touch me sets a fire in me.” His hand came up to take yours and slip it under his loose top now. Guiding it over the hard planes of his chest over to his heart. “I can’t get enough of it.”

You kiss again and continue stripping. There wasn’t much to let go of for you, as just before now you were preparing for bed, so you were quickly naked in front of him. He talked about your touch being fire, but his was burning you up inside. His hands were hot. They left a lingering heat in your body everywhere he touched, to the point that you wonder if he had activated his magic. You were helpless against his soft touches. Your body aching already before he even properly touched.

Then, when he did, your body became a livewire.

Your limbs immediately went taunt when his fingers touched your core. “Please try to relax.” He whispered to you in your hair. His own long, hard body nestled beside you. Holding you close.

You try to do as he said and relax. It wasn’t difficult after the initial shock as the pleasure made it easy to succumb to him. Those hands so skilled at fighting working your body with similar expertise. “Mmmm…Benimaru….”

“Ah…say that again.” His deep voice was in your ear again. This time sounding elated, before his tongue reached out to lick the shell of it. “Say my name again. Please.”

“Benimaru…” You repeat his name over and over again. His precious name he held so dear. The name Rimuru-sama had given to him. It fell from your lips like a prayer chant as his fingers brought you closer and closer to climax. When you did, it fell from your lips again in a shout. “Benimaru!”

He continued to touch you until your walls stopped clamping around his digits. Finally setting them free. Your spent body laid against him, and you open your eyes tiredly just in time to see him cleaning your juices from his fingers. “Ah…my love tastes so sweet. I could get addicted to your flavor.”

If you body wasn’t already flushed from orgasm, you would have blushed completely. Benimaru seemed pretty proud of himself, however, before he leaned in to kiss you. You don’t think you taste sweet at all. But the taste of yourself on his lips was something you could get addicted to too. When had you become so perverted?

He let you go for a moment and shuffled around to pull out of his pants. You watched him, in the soft light. His handsome body bare to you. Not a mark on him thanks to his skill and healing. Your eyes travel down and find the proof of his love for you staring back proudly at your face. You gulp at his size. That was going to be inside you.

“Don’t worry. I know it’s a bit bigger than a human’s, but I’ll try not to hurt you.”

“I-It’s alright.” You reply back at his concern. He had mistaken your gulp for a concern about his size. How shameful he would probably find you if he found out that it wasn’t from concern, but excitement, that had caused you to gulp. Again, when had you become so perverted? “I trust you. And I want to be with you.”

“[Y/N]….” He spoke your name softly again before he leaned in to kiss you. Guiding you back down on your back. You feel his weight press on top of you. Your legs spread wide around his pelvis to let him mount you. You can feel the tip of his erection pressing against your entrance and shiver a little at the lower kiss. “Please tell me if I’m hurting you.” Benimaru urged as he started to press into you.

You let out a wordless cry at the initial invasion into your most private place. You can feel your entrance stretch to accommodate him. The sensation a duality of pleasure and pain. And it was only the first few inches. Finally, agonizingly slowly, he was fully inside you. The kijin raining kisses down over your face and neck and everywhere else his lips could get to as you held on to him. His back tight under your fingers as he was very clearly straining to wait for you. “I’m alright, Benimaru. Please. Continue.”

You felt him nod against your shoulder before his hips pull back away from yours, then forward back into you. You both moan at the initial slow thrust. The feeling indescribable and compounding with each shallow thrust. “[Y/N]….”

“Mmmm…Benimaru….” You moan back when he said your name. “You can…go faster….” Not that you weren’t enjoying this slow entanglement, one could only describe as love making, you could tell that he was holding back and it was hard for him. “I..I want you. Please….Make me your woman.”

“I did warn you.” His voice sounded hard now, in comparison to the soft words he’d whispered to you earlier, and you think you hear the sound of nails scratching against the floor mat by your head.

His hips pull back again, this time practically pulling out of you, before they slam back in. You let out a loud cry. One readily identified as one not of pain. Then all you can do is hold on. Your arms wrap tight around Benimaru’s neck as he pounded into you. Before, where you had tried to roll your hips up to meet his thrusts when they had been soft & gentle, all you can do now is lay under him and take it. And become a babbling mess it seemed.

“Ah~! B-Benimaruuu! S-So good! Don’t stop!”

“I have no intention of stopping.” His words were stern. The cool seriousness of his intention to keep claiming you made your walls quake around him. “You’re my woman now. This body is mine. I’ll remind you of it every day if I have to. You’ve possessed me to the point of madness with this love. I can never let you go.” His tongue laved at the sweat collecting on the skin of your neck. Following it up to the back of your ear before his teeth bit into the soft flesh there. You let out a yelp, and call his name again, before you were cumming. Your nails biting him back into his shoulder.

“Ah! [Y/N]! Too tight. It’s too tight. I’m gonna-!” His hard thrusts come to a staggering halt as he spilled his seed inside you. Holding there before his hips roll softly against you as his cock continued to twitch its release.

He collapsed on top of you once it was finished. Your bliss worn body not seeming to care about the extra weight as you held him against your bosom and both tried to catch your breath. Rested, but not to say recovered, the ogre lifted himself up off your body and pulled out. You wince as he did. Those hard thrusts catching up to you, and suddenly feeling at a loss without him inside you. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You look over to Benimaru, who had apparently seen you flinch, and was looking concerned. “No. Just a little sore.” He looked a little ashamed at that and muttered an apology to you. “Don’t,” you tell him. Reaching on to touch his chest. “It’s not as if I was really complaining.”

You both blush, despite everything you’d just done, still apparently shy about intimacy, before he slid over to you. “Are you sure you’re alright? About everything?”

You nod. Both of you laying on your side to face each other. His fingers caressing your cheek before moving down to the love mark he’d nipped into your skin. “Yes. I meant what I said. I don’t regret it.” You weren’t foolish enough to think that you were going to be instantly happy as husband and wife now. You were basically starting fresh. Starting anew. Though you knew a lot about each other, you had to relearn things and uncover new things as only a spouse would know. It would take time. But you were happy enough for now to at least try to start this new chapter with Benimaru. “You’re not going to kill the envoy before he leaves tomorrow, are you?”

The man let out a boisterous laugh and wrapped his arms tight around you in a hug. “No. I would never disrespect Rimuru-sama like that. As long as he leaves, I’m satisfied. But if he touches you between now and then, I make no promise on the guarantee he will leave with all his limbs.”

“Benimaru….”

The envoy, it seemed, was clever enough to take the hint in not touching you. The murderous aura & killing intent of the red kijin seemingly always just behind you making that clear. You decline his invitation to join him in Blumund. Telling him that the only time you would come to the city to visit him was with your husband. He again took the hint and left without comment. Rimuru-sama gave Benimaru a stern talking to about scaring their allies and ambassadors to their country, but you could also see that he wasn’t very serious about it. He seemed pleased enough that things had worked out, that you were staying, and his beloved friends were happy.

Ever the wonderfully problematic life in Rimuru City.

[bearsinpotatosacks]

A Perfect Fit - Whumptober Day 24 - "I Don't Want To Do This Anymore"

It's the day of Carole's dad's funeral, and the resolve she's been gripping to with all her might was slipping. But Goose is there to support her every step of the way

Words: 4103

This describes mild past self harm and bad coping mechanisms, nothing intense or detailed (hands under hot water, digging nails into palms, biting tongue) but still enough to warrant a warning so avoid if you're sensitive to this, look after yourself.

Morning settled itself outside. The sun wasn't too high but far over the horizon. A clear blue sky stretched on. Clouds were thin and wispy. Such a beautiful day.

Carole's hands began to burn under the hot water as she did the morning's dishes. The suds covered her hands but she knew they were red. It made sure she didn't break down just yet. 

She had to drive to her mother's, not her parents' anymore, help set things up for the wake, welcome guests, follow the hearse, survive the funeral and put on a brave face for the other guests. 

But then it will all be over. All over and she could live again. She could feel human again, a feeling she wasn't accustomed too much lately. 

Goose came up behind her, his hands snaking around her middle and holding her's under the water. She squeaked but didn't jump. He lay a kiss on her temple and the resolve she was desperately clinging to like soap in wet hands started to fall.

"Should we go soon?" He asked.

She nodded. Words caught in her throat, too stuffy and thick to speak. It was far too hard to admit where they were going and why.

With a deep breath, she pulled her hands out of the water. She hid them from him. He already knew the state they'd be in. 

"I'll get my makeup on," 

Everyone's eyes were on her. Maverick looked on, concerned but evidently with no idea what to do or say. Goose's hands lingered on her arms. All she had to do was fall into them, give up and let him carry her away. But no. She had too many responsibilities to do that.

She shuffled slowly toward the stairs. Her clothes were all black, so was Goose's suit, and Mav's and even little Bradley. The Bradshaws weren't made for black, they were made for rainbows. But she thinks she would vomit if she saw anything too bright today. 

Part of her had started to wonder if she'd ever wear her colourful dresses again. She’d taken to wearing the duller parts of her wardrobe, hand-me-downs from her mother and sister who often looked on at her fashion sense with an attitude of 'Well I couldn't wear that'. 

Obnoxious flowers on vibrant colours, to vibrant stripes, to block red or blue. Faded pastels worn with age morphing into black, white and neutrals. Now to just black. She almost didn't want to go back to wearing bright colours.

Once she'd left the room, she heard murmuring. She knew she shouldn't be so paranoid but she couldn't help but stop to hear if it was about her, and if it was, was it bad?

"Can you get Bradley ready, please?" Goose asked. "His shoes are by the door, he'll need a colouring book, crayons, his goose, maybe another toy, a change of clothes, his pjs, a few snacks, I've put it all out including the bag."

"Of course,"

Goose exhaled, she could imagine him now, a hand on his hip and the other on his forehead.

"I'm just so worried about her, Mav, she's never been like this about anything,"

"Well, her dad did die," Mav said. "We both know what that's like."

Goose hummed, "She's just changing so much, Mav, it scares me," he added, "Makes me wonder if it's permanent, it's really freaking me out."

Silence for a while. They were talking about her, and it wasn't bad, but not necessarily good either.

"Have you tried talking to her?"

"'Have I tried talking?' Of course I have, just don't want her to worry more than everything else already is." He then added quietly. "What do I do, Mav?"

More silence. He was worried about her? Of course he was, he's her husband. But she didn't want him to worry, couldn’t have him doing that for her.

"Just try, Goose, that's what you do with me and it works, just keep trying, you'll get somewhere eventually."

"I guess you're right."

She heard movement and quickly hurried upstairs, entering the bathroom and letting out a sigh of relief now she was alone.

But the relief didn't last long. As she lay her cut hands on the sink, she gazed at her complection in the mirror. What had she become?

Purple bags hung under her sorrowful blue eyes. Her skin had grown pale, a change from the usual tan with freckles she had. She’d grown thinner over the past few months, much like how her dad had been on his deathbed. Her hair was straggly and hands sparkling with blood.

She turned over her hands and gazed at the grooves her nails had left in her palms. Small crusts of dry red blood sat under her nails. She'd gotten into the habit of leaving her nails long enough to dig into her hands but not too long enough to be annoying.

The door opened and she jumped away from the sink. Goose gave her an apologetic smile which soon dropped when he saw the obvious clawing marks on her hands. 

"I thought you said you were trying to stop?" He said, reaching over her head for the first aid kit in the bathroom cupboard.

This was routine now. Ever since he'd found out when they were arranging the funeral, he'd made sure to clean her hands with antiseptic and kiss the wounds better.

"I know, I know," she said half-heartedly. "It's just that today's so hard and I have so much to do."

He tutted and tilted the bottle upside down onto a cotton pad. Gently, he rubbed the pad onto her hands, giving gentle smiles at her hisses from the sting.

"Does anyone actually remember that you've lost your dad, too?" He said. "It seems like a lot of people are relying on you unnecessarily."

She shook her head, "My mum checks up on me, and my sister," she averted her eyes as her face flared up in a blush. "But I want to stay busy, it makes sure I don't break down."

Goose stopped and placed his hands on his hips. She sank where she stood. This was what he did when Bradley was naughty, never shouted, just gave that long disappointed stare. 

"What?" She exclaimed. "It's the only thing I can do that makes sure I can carry on going."

"So, your solution to not physically hurting yourself, is to keep yourself so busy that you don't grieve?"

He took her hand again and carried on cleaning the blood. She felt pitiful. Realisations she didn't want were plaguing her brain. Everyone was relying on her. She couldn't just collapse and let everyone down. They'd all hate her and she couldn't lose anyone else.

"Honey, I just want you to be okay, and you can't start to get okay if you don't allow yourself to grieve," he said.

Now the blood and wounds had been cleaned, four small puncture wounds, surrounded by older ones, were clear. He lay a kiss on each of them, then slowly lifted his head, holding her chin, to kiss her lips.

"If I let myself grieve then I won't stop and then who's going to look after my mum?" She said. "My brother certainly won't? My sister's busy with her kids and my aunts and uncles live too far away to be there every day, my grandparents have lost their son and are too old, there's only me."

He took her face in his hand. A few lone tears dripped down her face, he wiped them away and gave her a sad smile.

"But can't there be a balance?"

"Didn't you hear me?" She cried. "I won't be able to stop."

He kissed her cheek, "But that's what I'm here for, I can cook and clean and take care of you and Bradley if you can't, we're meant to be a team."

She buried her face in his hand. He stroked her cheek and felt her start to shake. Yet, she didn't let go entirely. Half of the trembling was from her forcing her resolve back up.

"I just want to be helpful, I don't want someone to get hurt because I wasn't there."

He sighed and pulled her into a hug. She was so much smaller than him, six inches, and less muscular so he could wrap around her perfectly. Her arms clung to him as she silently sobbed. He shushed her, stroking her hair and squeezing her just tight enough to be comforting.

As they pulled away, he took something from his pocket. He focused on that for a moment and the pressure of his love and admiration was lifted from her shoulders.

"Okay, if you're really scared that you won't be able to stop, if you really need something to help you block out the pain, maybe you could squeeze this instead of hurting your hands?"

He handed her a cute, crudely sewn duck. It was plush and soft, with a sweet smile of two single stitches on its face. It was tan, with grey and purple sections that made her realise he'd put a bit of thought into it. This wasn't your average duck. 

"It's an Appleyard duck," Goose said,  practically reading her mind. "Because me and Bradley are associated with birds, I wanted to give you one, so it's a duck."

His cheeks had turned a light pink, bashful like the early days of their relationship. He shuffled his feet as she turned the small duck in her hands.

"You made this for me?" Her voice was thin with surprise.

He scratched the back of his head, "I know I could've made you a bird of paradise, you'd really suit one but our thing is the more 'boring' birds so I picked you a pretty one."

She smiled with glimmering eyes. The material of the duck was comforting as she stroked it. Despite the pain that she carried with her every day, she felt a slither of hope.

"You made it for me." She said more surely now.

"Well, it's meant to represent you, so you can stop physically hurting yourself and maybe learn not to rely on hurting yourself at all?"

She smiled, "I think I can manage that."

He placed his arm around her and pulled her into a hug, "We'll get there honey."

~~~

The room bustled with people. So many conversations floating around the air. So many people, all needing help, all with eyes that seemed to peer into her soul. It was like they could see how she was faking being this calm, falling faster than she could catch herself.

A crisp blue sky, free of clouds, filled the sky outside. A winter sun shone and sparkled off the raindrops on grass and leaves. The funeral had been chilly, morose and stuffy, a clear contrast to the day.

She'd held her mother as they lowered the coffin, forced her tears back as they sang hymns and held Bradley as he wiggled in her arms. 

He didn't know what was going on, a two year old couldn't understand death and he barely knew his grandad, to him this funeral was just a boring Thursday.

The duck that Goose had made for her had been a godsend. The few tears she'd let out over the course of the funeral hadn't been enough to relieve the grief. But her sobbing wouldn't bring him back or comfort her grieving family.

The urge to dig her hands into her hands, rip them raw, to fight the tears, fight pain with pain, was stronger than she'd ever dealt with. But instead of her hands, she turned to the duck. And she had to admit it felt better not to have painful, dry hands from cutting them.

She'd thought the wake would be easier. Any she'd been to, of family friends she barely known, or had seen on television, had a sweet, mournful atmosphere. 

But this was just heartbreaking. Testing and stretching her ability to keep herself in check. She kept slipping. Letting out too many tears, hands shaking and zoning out. People were watching, judging and she didn't know what to do. Her emotions felt like a leaky tap that she just couldn't fix. It was getting damn annoying. Always too close to breaking too much.

Her and Goose may have talked about balance but that didn't mean she had to dissolve into tears in front of her entire family. She could do that at home, in the safe comfort of Goose's arms with the promise of a warm bath that smelt of lavender salt.

She zoned back into the conversation at hand. Standing next to her mother, sister and aunts, she felt like a child, hiding innocently in the shadow that comfort brought. Her mother's family was large, three sisters and two brothers, lots of people, all with families, all watching her, expecting something, she didn't know what.

"And then he winked and said 'That can be our secret' and walked off," her older sister said.

The group laughed. She heard herself distantly doing the same. They were in a boat, enjoying the sun glimmering on the water. And she was deep underneath, trying to hear them speak but only hearing snippets and half formed words muddled from the depth.

"That was your dad," her mother replied.

One of her aunts went to sip her drink, a tall crystal glass that hurt her eyes to look at when it hit the light just right, but found it empty. She pulled a face and sighed.

"Empty," she said.

"Mine too," said another aunt. 

"Me as well," her mother sighed. "I guess that means I'll have to leave."

She saw her mother's eyes drop. For a moment, she was lost in the bubble of conversation which had been broken. Her husband was dead again, the cancer had taken him and he wasn't coming back. The way the pain seeped into her mother's blue eyes seared Carole's heart. She couldn't let that pain spread. Seeing her holding that kind of weight made her heart break.

"I'll take them," she shattered her silence.

It was instinct. She needed something to do. Her own distraught emotions were seeping through more and more. Black like ink. Suffocating.

"Are you sure, honey?" Her mum asked, stroking her cheek.

She faked a smile. It was getting harder and harder to do that, but they were becoming more convincing.

"Of course."

The glasses clinked as she took them in one hand. Not too far away was the kitchen, where Goose and Maverick were washing dishes and watching over Bradley, who was probably playing with his goose on the floor. She could handle that. Although looking at the sea of people made her stomach churn.

She pushed her way through the crowd. When had it become so busy here? So many people, all watching her as she pushed past, all wondering what she was doing and why. She couldn't tell them the real answer. They'd worry when they were already harbouring their own agony. She would bear the weight, it was easier than dealing with her own grief.

"You taking the glasses, hon?" One of her uncles asked from a clump of people.

"Refilling actually,"

"Could you take ours? Seeing as you're going that way,"

She nodded and took their glasses. They, too, clinked loudly in her ears. Their eyes were too strong and close. Too many piercing the fog she'd made her home.

As she made her way through the crowd, more and more people gave her their glasses to be filled and plates to be cleaned. She could've declined, could've given them a smile that said 'I've got my hands full' with a shrug. But every time she said yes.

A 'no' would leave people peeved and many mildly annoyed people could quickly turn into a rowdy crowd. She didn't want that, she couldn’t let people down, didn't want them to feel disappointed, 

She ran her gaze across the room again, so many eyes staring at her. Maybe this had been a mistake? She wanted to avoid attention and help people. Sure, this was helping people, but could it be at the cost of the delicate facade that was slipping off her face.

The kitchen was in sight now, she reminded herself. The kitchen was in sight but it was shaking. Her head darted to and fro as more people approached her with glasses. 

Glasses that caught the light too much and hurt her eyes. Light that hurt her skin. Hard and sharp. Forcing its way through the cracks, lighting up all the fear, pain and grief she was hiding from. Or hiding away?

The glasses were cold in her hands. Parts of the crystal dug into her hands, she reciprocated and pushed back harder. It wasn't enough. She bit her tongue until copper filled her mouth and it wasn't enough. Even deep breaths weren't helping despite Goose telling her they would.

Sound around her muffled as she tried to focus on any of the things the people crowding around her were saying. Why were there so many people all of a sudden? There hadn't been a moment ago. Although, she didn't know how long that moment was. Every second felt an hour long yet went past in a blink of an eye.

Something hot burnt her cheek. Was it tears? Were they her's? They couldn't be, they mustn't be, because there were too many people around her to cry. They'd all worry about her when she didn't need them putting more pressure on themselves to help her. She didn't need it. She didn't deserve it.

Her breath came in pants in her ears. Spiking pain shot through her with every breath. Her eyes refused to focus and she was deaf to the world. All muffled and dark and alone.

Something happened out of her control. Her hands went lax. She couldn't move them, tense them, hold them. All she knew was that her hands were empty and an almighty crash echoed in the chambers of her mind. 

~~~

Goose's head drifted off as he placed another plate on the rack. He liked the rhythm of washing dishes. Pick up the plate, scrub with the sponge, shake off the bubbles, give to Mav, repeat until it's done. 

A warm glow filled the kitchen. Half eaten food sat on an almost empty buffet. Heat from the cooling oven kept the winter chills at bay. That, and the hot water swirling around his hands.

He hadn't seen Carole in a while. Last he knew, she was standing with her mum, sister and aunt. They were good company, filled with that comforting emptiness that only grief could bring.

She hadn't shown much of the balance they'd talked about, at the funeral. Of all the times it was acceptable to grieve, surely it would be when the casket is being lowered to the ground. 

Apparently she didn't agree. She’d barely shed a tear at the funeral, just held her sobbing mother while sending longing death stares to her disengaged brother.

"We're almost done now, right?" Mav asked.

He wiped a glass in a rhythmic motion. The squeaking pierced through the chundering noise of the party that had become background noise. 

Both of them had retreated to the kitchen upon returning. Goose routinely checked up on Carole but took solace in the fact that she was surrounded by family. She’d held Bradley for a while, however, him being an unassuming two year old, meant that he didn't suit a room filled with grief. That's why he was playing with his goose and wooden toy car under the table.

"Yeah," Goose said, placing another dish on the rack. "That's the last one."

He shook his hands after squeezing out the sponge. Lowering his head, he let out a long sigh. His father's face was on his mind. The few memories he had of him before he went to Vietnam, when he was on leave from Berlin or somewhere else with the Marines, when he was happy and joking. More plentiful memories of him afterwards clung around his head like spiderwebs.

"We'll check on Carole in a second," he said.

The words had just left his mouth when an almighty crash woke them both from their thoughts. Goose knew who that was. Guilt seeped in. Why had he left her? He knew how little she was handling this, why leave her alone? 

"Shit," he cried, quickly drying his hands on a towel.

The living room was full. A crowd had formed around someone in the middle. He forced his way through, forgetting 'excuse me's and just pushing everyone away.

Carole had crawled within herself. Her hands covered her face as gentle sobs wafted in the silence. A pile of plates and glasses lay shattered at her feet.

She stood up, pulling her hands away from her face. Red splotches and tears covered her cheeks, giving them a forlorn sheen. Her hands shook inches away from her face as her eyes spotted everyone staring at her. But seeing him rushing toward her must have made her forget the crowd and her final resolve broke.

"Nicky," she sobbed. "I don't want to do this anymore."

As she hid her face in her hands, he waved the crowd away and he enclosed her in his arms. She gave no resistance. No comments about needing to support people nor not being able to stop. She just caved, nuzzling into his shoulder and hiding her face from the crowd.

"Oh honey, you don't have to do anything you don't want to," he whispered. 

Her mother pulled the crowd away from them, giving concerned looks that dripped in guilt. Nick did his best to use his extra height to hide her but knew that it wasn’t enough. Carole didn't deserve this, she deserved privacy, not a crowd watching her like hawks.

"Should we go to your room?" He said into her ear.

She separated from him slightly, focusing on his ruffled hair and eyes shimmering with tears, "But the plates, and the glasses-"

"Can be sorted by someone else," he finished. "Come on, let's go."

She nodded and fell into his arms again. He lifted her up, holding her legs with his arm and carrying her up the stairs. Her light sobs grew louder as they got further away. 

Privacy was a comfort blanket. One she was covering herself with as he kicked open the door to her childhood bedroom. Posters of Robert Redford, Christopher Reeves and John Travolta gazed down at them, their colours faded from years on the walls. 

Placing her down on the bed, he held her face in his hands. She lent into the touch. Mascara ran like spider's legs down her cheeks, neutral toned lipstick was smeared along her hand. The black funeral clothes were crumpled, they didn't suit her, they were far too dull to represent his wonderful wife.

"What do you want to do?" He said.

He crouched down in front of her, their hands clasped together as he kissed her knuckles. She brushed the light stubble around his moustache and smiled through the tears. Her smile was sheepish, she didn't respond yet, a red flush flooded her face.

"Come on, honey, anything," he then reminded her, "Remember the balance we talked about?

She took a deep breath in, then out. Her breathing trembled and shook. More tears were on the cusp every time.

"Okay," she said slowly. "I want to get into comfier clothes and cry my eyes out while you hold me."

A smile grew on his face, beamed up his cheeks as he rose to his feet. Her head fit perfectly in his hands. She fit so perfectly with him, the way her chin slotted onto his neck when they cuddled, how their hands created a whole when clasped together.

"That sounds like a great plan," he assured.

Now they were in their own space, the reprieve in the tears ended. Blobs of tears blubbed as her lip quivered. This had been their routine for months now. He was used to seeing her well up and force the outburst down. But now, as he helped her into her pyjamas, he saw growth within her. Because she let the tears flow, let the sobs whine from her gut and became a puddle in his arms once they were settled together on the bed. 

But that was okay, he thought, as long as he was here, he’d be there to pick her up every time she fell down.

I have spent so long on this fic, it's taken a while after work and on breaks. I love me some Carole whump but also love Goose being so gentle and soft with her. The toy duck is a reference to an idea I have where Goose, and later Carole, come back as birds, with Goose as a goose and Carole as an Appleyard Duck. Also I added that last line and gave an evil giggle in my head. Thank you for reading!

[mothandpidgeon]

Ok but since you are writing a Regency piece...could you imagine having Din Djarin and Marcus Pike fighting over you? Each of them is so different and you can't help it because you're attracted to both of them because Din is the brooding yet kind introverted man that quotes to you poetry and takes you on long boat rides (with someone else of course because he cares about your image) and you're head over heels in love but then Marcus comes along and he's dashing and sweet and a little introverted but mostly talkative whenever he has to be and although he doesn't read to you poetry, he does gush about how none of the Greek and Roman and Etruscan sculptures and Italian works of art come close to your beauty and he takes you on long walks in gardens and even invites you to go to Versailles one time with him and then the three of you run into each other during one of the balls and the two are begging just for a moment with you and you're dancing with no one else but them during the entire night and when you try to go to the garden to get some fresh air, you're bombarded by the two men and they get into a heated argument to the point where they say that they will duel for you but you stop them both because you don't want either of them to get hurt and then...oh my sweet lord...and then, you take each of their hands and kiss their knuckles and fuck you shouldn't be doing this because what if someone sees and your reputation and no no no...but they both grow even more shy and you smile at them and-

"How about you invite us over to your estate Captain Djarin? I'm sure we can all...come to an agreement. Right?"

And the two are so confused but when they look at each other and return their gaze to you, they finally realize what it is you're talking about and they're both appalled by your offer but their shock slowly subsides because they fucking crave you and they nod and you throw each one of them a wink and-

"I'm looking forward to the invitation, good evening gentlemen."

And AHHHHHHHHHHH I DIE!!!!!!!!

Ok, Maggie, you went SO HARD on this one. Phew. You really know how to torment me!!! You are always welcome in my inbox. Considering the tale you wove, I really hope this lives up to it and you’ll have to forgive me I could go on but I was already approaching 1.5k words!!

Also I hope you don’t mind (and apologies to Regency!Din) but the mention of Versailles just screamed late 18th century (an important distinction in my nerd brain) so…

A/N: 18+! This ribbon bit comes from Barry Lyndon so apologies to the ghost of Stanley Kubrick.

It was a shame that Misters Djarin and Pike detested one another so when they had so many similarities. Both of them were kind and sweet and terribly handsome.

Mr. Pike accompanied you to the opera on more than one occasion. In the privacy of your box, he would whisper sweet words into your ear and nudge the soft skin of your neck with his nose. Mr. Djarin was more of an outdoorsman. He took you riding on his estate. When you were far enough on the grounds, he would help you down from the saddle and recite poetry to you beneath a shady tree.

And yet seeing them side by side now in Mr. Djarin’s parlor where you’d just shared a very awkward tea, tension straining the air between them, they couldn’t be more different. Mr. Djarin, so reserved, dark and modest. Mr. Pike, flirtatious and warm, cheek always dimpled with a smile.

You knew it wasn't going to be easy to break the wall between them but you’d been wise enough to plan for it.

“It seems I cannot force an accord between you but I know how men like their sport. I propose a wager. Nothing like a friendly competition to encourage affection,” you said.

Marcus cocked his eyebrow. He had wanted to win you since he’d met you last summer, pursuing you endlessly and yet this other man still stood in his way.

“I wonder which of you is a better hunter,” you said.

“And how would we prove that?” Mr. Pike asked. Din’s brow creased. He didn’t know how hunting had anything to do with your ludacris proposal, the one that they had both scoffed at at the ball. He wouldn’t have agreed to contemplate the thought if he hadn’t been so afraid of losing you.

You rose from your seat and both pairs of brown eyes watched you intently.

“I have devised a test. I’ve hidden a white ribbon somewhere on my person,” you said, trying to bite back your smile. “The better man finds it first.”

Both men looked at you in a stunned silence. Your heart was racing nervously but you were savoring their expressions. Mr. Djarin collected himself first.

“You’ll forgive me for being unfamiliar with the ways in which women amuse themselves but I hardly find such a suggestion to be entertaining,” Mr. Djarin said, his cheeks turning pink.

He couldn’t pretend that the idea of undressing you didn’t make his heart pound but he hated how easily you would give yourself over to Mr. Pike. He disliked the way Pike flirted with you so openly. Of course, he knew some of it was envy— he had never been a charmer.

“I do not speak in jest, sir,” you told him.

“That is what you want?” Mr. Pike asked, his soft eyes already slipping lower. He was already thinking of places to explore.

You watched Mr. Djarin look away from you when he nodded.

“And the better man, does he win something?” Pike asked, enjoying how flustered the other man had become.

“My highest regard,” you answered coyly.

Marcus chuckled.

“Then the lady should get what she wants, don’t you agree?” he asked Mr. Djarin.

Din cleared his throat.

“Very well,” he said.

Pike came to your side and took your hand to escort you to the couch where you sat between him and Mr. Djarin.

“Perhaps you should take the first turn,” you suggested to Mr. Djarin who was looking at you with a mix of fear and yearning in his eye.

He’d been so careful with you, always so cautious not to overstep or do anything at all that might invite scandal save a few soft kisses. And here you were laying yourself out for him. He swallowed dryly and met your eye with a shrug of surrender.

“Is it in your hair?” he asked, eyes darting up to your coiffure.

You smiled at him, nearly reached out to put your hand on his cheek. That protective nature was what drew you to Mr. Djarin in the first place. You knew what he really wanted, you could see it in his eyes, but he was too polite to take what was being offered. Not without convincing.

“I believe this requires a more thorough search, Djarin,” Pike said from over your shoulder.

He cupped your hands and turned them over as in a playful inspection, then lifted both of your arms. “No. Not there.”

You laughed and the noise made his heart jump. He’d found that he would make himself a fool if it put a smile on your face. Marcus was happy to take the opportunity to move in closer, to claim you with his touch. He brushed your neck so gently, his fingers tracing a ljne from your jaw to your shoulder where the bodice of your dress began. Goose pimples broke out on your skin and Marcus put his lips against your earlobe.

“I wonder,” he mused, leaning your back into his chest.

He hooked a finger under the fabric and followed the line down from your shoulder to the swell of your breast and you gasped. He had so often admired the rise and fall of your chest, Marcus couldn’t help but caress your skin with his thumb. Din felt himself stiffen as he listened to the soft moans Pike was drawing from you as he put a kiss on your skin. Watching your lips part, Din was frozen in place.

Marcus moved his hand down the straight front of your bodice and you felt yourself pulsing beneath your skirts.

“Perhaps under here?” he asked.

You allowed him to work the front of your gown open, the silk parting to reveal the creamy ivory stays below. Din felt twin aches in his chest and his groin as he saw the other man slide the bodice off of your shoulders.

Neither had seen you in such a state of undress before. Marcus took a moment to steady himself, admiring the figure below and sliding his hand across your middle. You were hardly naked, still clad in your stays, shift, and skirts but your underthings made his cock twitch.

“Now you see how the game is played and that Mr. Pike has been so far unsuccessful,” you said to Mr. Djarin, your voice more breathless than before. “Would you care to try, Mr. Djarin?”

You encouraged him by bringing your foot to rest beside his knee, leaning back into Mr. Pike. Din licked his lips, staring at the floral pattern on your delicate shoe for what felt like a century. Finally, he gave in to his longing.

He ran his fingers up your ankle over your silk stocking, revealing the smooth line of your leg. His large hands encircled your calf as he inched your skirt up further. You let out a shaking breath, squeezing your thighs together. You could hear Mr. Pike’s jagged breaths in your ear as he watched with anticipation. He had half a mind to release himself from his breeches to relieve the torment building there.

Din was careful not to reveal any of your skin, stopping just above the spot at your knee where your stockings were tied with thick ribbons.

“These are blue,” he said, running his thumb over the bow.

You were looking down at him flushed and breathing heavy and it took everything in his power to stop from taking you then and there.

You leaned to him, putting your lips against his and letting your mouth fall open to invite him in. You heard him whimper and he clutched onto your leg. Then you turned to Mr. Pike who kissed you hungrily, his wide palm kneading at your breasts.

“I’m quite disappointed in the both of you,” you said once you could speak again. Your whole body was thrumming with arousal.

You raised your skirts up around your hips and felt both pairs of eyes lustily watching. There, tied around the thickest part of your thigh was the white ribbon. But they only noticed the slick shining between your thighs.

“We shall call it a draw. But I’m afraid that means you’ll have to share me, gentlemen,” you said.

And from their twin growls, it was clear that they didn’t mind.

[imagine-a-fangirl]

Ik heb in 2022 49 keer iets geplaatst

31 berichten gemaakt (63%)

18 berichten gereblogd (37%)

Blogs die ik het meest heb gereblogd:

@imagine-a-fangirl

@moonvis

@plaidbooks

@stranger-nightmare

@starryeyedstories

Ik heb 34 van mijn berichten getagd in 2022

Slechts 31% van mijn berichten had geen tags

#top gun maverick imagine - 6 berichten

#jake seresin x reader - 5 berichten

#imagine marvel - 4 berichten

#hangman x reader - 4 berichten

#doctor strange x reader - 4 berichten

#me - 4 berichten

#top gun imagine - 4 berichten

#jake seresin imagine - 4 berichten

#anthony bridgerton x reader - 3 berichten

#hangman imagine - 3 berichten

Longest Tag: 79 characters

#this could go for a lot characters but the person they talked about was stephen

Mijn populairste berichten in 2022:

#5

Time to watch Doctor strange in the Multiverse of Madness 🥳🥳

164 notities - Geplaatst 4 mei 2022

#4

A/n: Little blurb from a bigger story I wrote. Essential to know, y/n is Mavericks daughter. Rooster was her bestfriend growing up but he cut off all contact when Maverick pulled his papers.

Y/n quickly got in between the two men, stopping Rooster from getting his hands on Hangman. She pushed Hangman out of the room towards the changing rooms when Rooster was pulled away by the others. “Calm down Fox it was just a joke.” He tried brushing it off. “Getting someone’s dead father involved is not a joke, Jake. You know that.” She shook her head. She knew how it still hurt Rooster thinking about the death of Goose. “I know you want to look like an asshole but not like this. Come on.” “I know, I know.” He realized all too well that he went over the line. “Then why Jake.” She sat down on the bench Jake sat down next to her “He deserves it.” “Why? Because he has beaten you a couple times? Because you lost an award, one time or another.” “Because he put you through hell!” He blurred out. “What?” “The moment I saw the two of you at the hard deck I knew something was up. When I saw that picture of Maverick and his father this morning... one and one equals two. He is the one who cut you off, who put you through hell.” “Jake…” “No he hurts you, I hurt him. That's how this works” “I can fight my own battles, you know that.” “I know, but I’m your wingman. I protect you and I have your back.” “Besides my wingman you are also a bit of an idiot Jake. “ “I know.” “But at least you are my idot.” She leaned her head on his shoulder “Just don’t do that again, okay.” “I won’t, but I’m not going to stop challenging him.” “You wouldn’t be you if you would. Just apologize to him.” “I’ll try.” “That’s all I ask.”

166 notities - Geplaatst 26 juli 2022

#3

A/n: coping with my own sleepless night with this little drabble.

Summary: The reader can't sleep after troubles with her best friend, Rooster tries to assure her

Rooster x femreader

Y/n looked at her alarmclock once again, 3am and she still hadn't had a minute of sleep. She was in her head and couldn't let go of it. She had tried not to turn to much and let Rooster enjoy his peaceful slumber, but failed to do so. She felt his arms wrap around her waist, softly pulling her closer to him "What is that beautiful head worrying about now?" He mumbled with a sleepy voice

"It's nothing, go back to sleep." She tried to assure him. Being in Roosters arms was normally enough to keep her mind from spinning but it wasn't tonight.

"It's not nothing if you keep tossing and turning until 3am."

"Sorry, I didn't want to keep you awake. I can go to the couch."

"Babe, you are not sleeping on the couch. Talk to me." He tried again, his voice a lot more awake now

"Am I someone you can talk to?"

"What?" He wasn't sure if it was because it was the middle of the night, but he had a hard time understanding the question

"If you have problems or missing your parents, do you feel like you can talk to me?"

"Of course, do I give you the feeling I don't?"

"No not you." Y/n got out his arms, causing him to make a little whining noice, and sat a little up in bed "It's Leila."

Rooster turned around and flicked on the light on the nightstand before turning back to her "Is she alright?"

"She is now, but she was upset about her grandma passing. Which is completely understandable of course. But she didn't want to talk to me about it." It left her feeling uneasy, y/n was not much of a talker herself. But she wanted to be there for her friends, for her family, for Rooster. What if they didn't feel like she was.

"Leila has never been much of a talker has she?"

"Not really, I know her since highschool but her she always keeps her problems a bit on the downlow. Normally I see through that pretty quickly..."

"But this time you didn't." Rooster added.

Y/n nodded "Maybe it's my fault."

"It's not your fault, you can't force people to talk to you."

"I know, but I didn't notice it either." She was fidgeting with the edge of the duvet, but Rooster placed his hand on top of hers to make her stop

"She knows she can talk to you. Leila knows that if there is something wrong she can come to you. Just because you missed it one time doesn't mean you are suddenly the problem. Sometimes people need to find their own way to cope and you can't always help them."

"I don't like that."

"I know, because you care to much about your friends. Not only about them about your family, about me." Rooster pressed a kiss on her hands "None of us will ever think you don't have time for us or that we can't speak to you about something. But let them come to you Babe."

Y/n opened her mouth to say something else again, but decided against it "Maybe you are right."

"I think so too." Rooster decided "Now come lay down with me again? Or I won't be able to sleep either." He flicked the light of and got settled

"Fine." She lay down again and settled into his arms, her head laying on his chest listening to the sound of heartbeat.

"I love you y/n."

"I love you to Rooster."

169 notities - Geplaatst 17 juni 2022

#2

I just watched the new Black Panther movie and oh my goodness. It was once again so good, emotional but so good.

If anyone has request for black panther, send them in. Can't promise in which time frame I'll be abke to write them, but send them in

253 notities - Geplaatst 10 november 2022

Mijn #1-bericht van 2022

A/n: a short drabbel, possesive Jake. It's one of the many ideas I have for a Jake × nurse!reader serie.

A quite night with just the two of them was rare, with the jobs they had. But it made them that much more appreciative of the ones they did have. Jake was already picking out a movie as y/n went to change into something more comfortable. She pulled out the first oversized shirt she found and pair of comfortable shorts.

"I know it's a little late for Halloween movies but we could..." Jake forgot to finish his sentence when he saw her in that outfit. Where it was normally followed by a compliment or avances that would lead anywhere but a movie, this time it was followed by something that would be better descripted as disgust.

"What is that?" He pointed at the shirt

"What?" Y/n looked down a bit confused by what he was pointing at.

"That shirt."

"You will have to be a little more specific then that Jake." She tried to make sense of his reaction

"That is a guy shirt."

"Very good observation." She slowly agreed

"It's a guys shirt, but it's not one of mine." He pointed out the obvious.

"No it's Roosters."

"Oh hell no."

"Jake, what..." He had gotten up from the couch and started dragging her back to the bedroom. "Jake what are you doing?" She questioned when he started to take off his shirt. "Not that I'm complaining."

"My girl will not wear the shirt of a guy that is not me, especially not Bradshaws. Hand it over." He held out his hand

"Don't you think you are overreacting a little bit?"

"I can take it off you aswell, but then Rooster won't have a shirt anymore."

"Fine." She gave in and changed Roosters shirt for that off Jake. "But what will you wear."

"Nothing, just like you like it."

"I could just take one of my own shirts." She tried, already knowing the answer

"Not a chance, you look far to hot in my shirt."

965 notities - Geplaatst 5 november 2022

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