#like they help prop up all these sounds and song into something great yeah

[asteropewpew]

something that kinda wrecks me is that sunday's boss form is essentially an orchestra conductor which not only reflects a great deal of his ideologies but that it also represents how sunday had already put himself in a position to get behind the curtain while robin performs on the bright stage and takes all the attention of the audience

and the way the crude child drawing of dominicus gets more damning along with sunday's hesitation because you'd know then that...when robin was getting tutelage on how to sing harmony, sunday was already being taught the dirtier aspects of penacony or perhaps unknowingly being taught the price behind gopher wood's charity

another thing that i'd like to point out that robin's line regarding sunday:

it's not that sunday had broke his promise to robin that he'll be singing with her together in the future but rather, for sunday, the music that robin held dear to her the most is already proof that he had fulfilled his promise to her by singing with her just like this

[nyoomfruits]

osctober day twenty one

prompt: bulletproof pairing: lando/oscar word count: 700w

“Well, I told him it was a bad idea,” Logan says, through the tinny speaker of Oscar’s phone, that’s propped up onto the kitchen island, against Oscar’s fruit bowl.

Bulletproof, nothing to loose

“But he did it anyway, because I don’t think he ever actually listens to anything I tell him,” Logan continues.

Fire away, fire away

“So he vaults off the Yacht, catches his foot on the railing, nearly brains himself on the hull, and then goes hurtling into the water.”

BULLETPROOF

“I dive in after, thinking he might be unconscious, I’m like, worried as shit and he just emerges, laughing his fucking ass off like nothing’s wrong.”

NOTHING TO LOOSE

“I mean, something was wrong, because like, he has this massive gash in his foot now, had to get a bunch of stitches, it was a whole deal, but the- Oscar? Are you even listening to me?”

FIRE AWAY, FIRE AWAAAAAAY

“Hm?” Oscar says.

“Oh, great,” Logan says. “Have I just been talking to myself for the past five minutes?”

“No,” Oscar says, putting his focus back on the phone, scooting closer so his own face fills the little screen at the bottom. “No, I’m listening.”

“Sure,” Logan says. “So what have I been telling you about?” Oscar pulls a face. Logan raises an eyebrow. “Exactly.”

“I’m sorry,” Oscar says. “It’s just, my soulmate…”

Logan winces in sympathy. “Another song?”

Oscar sighs. “Same two lines. Over and over.”

“Yikes,” Logan says. “At least mine sings the entire song when they’ve got something stuck in their head.”

“Lucky you,” Oscar deadpans. “Alright, I gotta go. See you later, yeah?”

“Later!” Logan yells, and then hangs up.

FIRE AWAY, FIRE AWAYYYYY, his soulmates blares happily. Oscar tunks his head down on the counter.

--

“Oscar,” Lando says, three hours later.

Oscar, who has been listening to the same two lines of Titanium for like three hours now, looks up, happy for the distraction. “Yeah?”

“Listen this is, this might sound strange, but I have this song stuck in my head, and it’s starting to drive me nuts, so I can imagine my soulmate isn’t faring much better and I just. I read somewhere, that it helps if you listen to the whole song, except I can’t remember what it is?”

Oscar snorts. Apparently having annoying songs stuck in your head is just a running theme today. “Yeah, sure, what is it?”

“Oh, it’s like-“ Lando says, and then the most earie thing that’s ever happened to Oscar starts happening.

Lando starts singing the opening lines of the chorus of Titanium, in perfect tandem with the little voice in Oscar’s head that’s been singing the song over and over all day.

“Well?” Lando says. “Do you know it?”

Oscar stares at him. For a really long time. Wonders if this is really happening. Wonders if maybe Logan told Alex who told George who told Lando and now they’re making fun of him. Wonders what he would do, if. If.

“Are you joking?” He asks, genuinely.

“What?” Lando asks, frowns. “No? They played it in the airport earlier today but I forgot how the rest of the song goes and it’s been driving me nuts.”

It did start somewhere slightly after when Lando landed. Oscar knows, because Lando texted him. “Holy shit,” he says, and then again, for good measure, “holy shit.”

“What? What’s wrong, is this song like, weird? It’s not weird, right? It was like a massive hit, why are you-“ Lando never gets a chance to finish the rest of his sentence, because Oscar chooses that exact moment to kiss him full on the mouth.

“Sorry,” Oscar says, when he pulls away. Lando is just staring at him with big eyes, clearly confused. “Sorry, I just. Uh. Remember when you said it must be driving your soulmate pretty nuts?”

Lando nods.

“Well, it has been. Driving me pretty nuts. All day. Also the song is Titanium by David Guetta and Sia, if you were. Wondering.”

“Holy shit,” Lando says, and then again, for good measure. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” Oscar says, and then Lando leaps forward and kisses him again.

[hotcheetohatredwastaken]

Linked Universe AU: Lethal Company (1/18)

What if the boys from Linked Universe were put into space and forced to work under Evil Capitalism (AKA for The Company)?

Tw: none for this chapter, but gore and main character death later in the series.

He jolted upright, banged his head on the metal shelf stationed low above him like the lid to a coffin, and collapsed back onto his bed with a yelp. Groaning, he clasped both hands over the bruise blooming on his forehead and squeezed his eyelids shut against the oppressive light piercing into his brain. Somewhere, metal squealed, and low conversation thrummed.

What’s going—? He tried to search his brain for context about where he was, what was going on, but was met with nothing but an emptiness where memory should have been. He—there was no name that existed in that frightening blank, just he—knew what it should have felt like to draw upon some sort of knowledge, information, something, but there was a jarring mental block, like an unexpected run into a wall where a door should have been. If he knew what it felt like to remember, did that mean he remembered a before? He beat against the blockade for a few moments, turned, and prodded elsewhere in the empty mental landscape he’d been thrust into. But there were no cracks or breaks in the walls, and the entirely of the space between was just empty, empty, empty. Then—

The creaking of metal haunted his mind. Each sound warped and phased until they were unrecognizable, morphing into the desperate screams of the dying. A rhythmic beat like horse hooves became a steady war drum to backdrop the sounds of a crash, an explosion. A woman’s voice permeated the din, soothing and sad all at once. It too, rose into a despairing shriek, and—

The echoes of strained metal continued in the land of the waking, quieter and less warped now. He shuddered and he peeked open an eye to find the source.

“New replacements here,” someone shouted amidst the noise, and he was suddenly struck with the fact that he’s not alone. The conversation floating around the air raised the hair on his arms. Head still spinning, he carefully propped himself onto one elbow, turning towards the still too-painful light. His empty stomach clenched with the movement, and he pinched his eyes shut once more, pressing his lips together and taking in a few small, tight breaths in an attempt to calm his nausea. “Oh, he looks like a real newbie. Someone tell him to quit thinking so hard before he makes his head explode.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll deal with the new meat. You just like to scare them anyways,” a gentle voice at his side said. “Go help Time with the monitor, he’s bound to break it without intervention. Hey. Hey, kid! Can you hear me?”

He, squinting, was met with a kind, round face with soft blue eyes that peered into his bunk with intense curiosity and something that looked like heavy resignation. “Where—?” he tried to ask, only to cough over a dryness in his throat. His next attempt barely came out a whisper. “Wh—?”

“It’s alright, it’s alright, you don’t try to talk just yet,” the owner of that kind face said, rushing to hold his hand in his own. It made him feel safer, grounded, somehow. “I’ll explain everything I can in a second, you just hang tight and I’ll get you some—”

Suddenly, a blaring, triumphant tune raised itself. It seemed to swirl around his head, reverberating in his ears and raising his shoulders. “Welcome,” a robotic voice droned over the music after a slight delay, “to your first—”

“Somebody shut that thing up!” a deep masculine voice roared across the cabin.

“—on the jo—”

“I’m sorry.” The kind-faced one spoke over the din. “I’ll get you some water, and then we’ll talk.”

He tracked the kind-faced one with his eyes as he stood and crossed the narrow room, which seemed to be made out of smooth metal and wiring. Another man in an orange jumpsuit punched at something embedded in the opposite wall, and the song, looping around the words Great–great asset to the company fizzled out with a pop. The man returned to the computer screen at the front of the room, leaning over the shoulder of a child in that same orange jumpsuit. The kind-faced one was wearing one, too. And so was he, he realized, with a look down at himself. An orange jumpsuit made of thick, sturdy material, dull buttons, and a number of loops and pockets. Was—was this prison? Wait, what’s a prison, and why is it orange? Where—?

“Hey! Here.” The kind-faced one was back, trying to hand a metal canteen to him. “Drink.”

“Why—?” He couldn’t get another word out. The kind-faced one seemed to follow his gaze well enough to understand the question he wanted to ask.

“The orange? Yeah, Time wouldn’t let us buy the yellow that went on sale last cycle. Said it was a waste of money. But I think a little less Company orange would be good for the soul. Now drink.”

Company? The canteen was successfully forced into his hand. With nothing else to do, he drank. The water soothed his irritated throat enough that he could speak. “Who… who are you people?” he said at last. His own voice sounded unfamiliar to him, high and thready and weak. “Where—where am I? What’s going on?”

The kind-faced one gave a small, sad smile. “Not a lot of answers I can give you to those questions, but I can try. We’re all your crewmates assigned to work together on this ship for the duration of our contract. My name’s Sky. That’s Four… and that’s Time…”

“Heyo!” one crewmate—not a child, he could see now, but a short adult with blond hair chopped off at chin level—chirped. The taller continued tapping away at his keyboard with a dismissive grunt.

“...and you’re… uh…” Sky squinted down at his chest.

“Twilight, it says up here!” the short one finished for him.

“Yes, your name tag says that Twilight’s your name. Nice to meet you, Twilight.”

He—Twilight now—took the offered hand on instinct. “And we’re… where?” he asked vaguely, hopelessly confused. Despite the nearly empty space in his head, available to be filled with all sorts of knowledge, trying to cram that little bit in was like trying to grasp water in his hands. “What… what was your name again?”

“Sky.” The smile only turned sadder. “And we’re in space, technically, now. I mean, Time thinks otherwise, but don’t listen to that old coot.” The glare the taller man, Time, sent at the back of Sky’s head was deadly, but he didn’t seem to notice. Twilight noticed, then, the name tag on Sky’s chest, which read Sky – Employee. A glance at his own chest revealed the label Twilight – Intern. “Anyways, don’t push yourself on the names and all that—a lot of stuff won’t stick this first day, while you’re still getting over the memory wipe. We’ll be landing soon. Our job is to go inside, collect some scrap, and bring it back to the shuttle with everyone safe. Got it?”

Twilight nodded, his mind still swirling with questions. “Scrap? Why? Do we have to?”

“Doesn’t matter why. And yes, we do.” The taller man—Twilight had already forgotten his name—walked over to the bunk, leaning over Twilight with his thumbs tucked into the belt loops of his orange uniform. The placard on his chest read Time – Boss, and its chipped appearance almost distracted Twilight from his milky-white, clearly blind right eye. Almost. A jolt and a shiver ran through him, and he sat up straighter in his bunk. “That accent and those tattoos of yours suggest you’re from some subsistence farming planet,” said Time, looking him up and down critically. “You look strong—do you know how to swing a shovel?”

That question was just as foreign as everything else in this place. “Um… what?” murmured Twilight, touching his own face absentmindedly.

Just then, the room shuddered and rocked with a metallic squeal, eerily similar to that feminine scream of his dreams. Twilight braced against the bunks, barely keeping himself from spilling into the floor. The rest of the crew swayed with it and stayed on their feet without trouble.

“We’re here!” the shorter crewmate announced. He wore an orange jumpsuit, almost the same color as a prison jacket —no wait, he’d already thought this before, it wasn’t prison, but what was prison, why did he keep thinking— “Door’s open in two minutes.”

“What was that?” Twilight whispered wide-eyed, still clinging to his bunk in case it happened again. “What is this place?”

“Don’t worry about it right now. Just try to survive today.” Time looked down at him, unimpressed, and crossed his arms. “Here’s your helmet.” He reached out of sight and tossed the thing—black, round, with glass eyes and lengths of connected tubing—into Twilight’s lap. “Atmosphere’s technically breathable on this planet, but I wouldn’t suggest it if you value your lungs. Sky’ll help you with your oxygen tank. Welcome to your first day on the job.”

The man strode away. Sky took his place, fussing about with a pair of heavy yellow tanks that needed to be fastened to Twilight’s back, gloves that fit way too loosely over his fingers, and finally, his helmet. Twilight stared down at it. His own unfamiliar face—tattooed with broad, black strokes that hung over icy blue eyes—stared back at him from the fogged glass of the face shield. He didn’t want to put it on, didn’t want to consent to whatever he was tasked to do here without the slightest clue of what was going on. But to get answers, he’d have to. So he pulled his helmet on, allowed Sky to connect the tubing, and, peering through the frosted, spiderwebbed glass, stood and followed Time to the opening door at the other end of the cabin.

All credit for this goes to @across-violet-skies , who initially had the idea for this AU while we were playing Lethal Company together about a month ago. We were getting an average of 50 hrs of this game a week rather than studying for exams, and anyways, the two brain rots connected. Yay. Hope you enjoy! This series looks like it will be about 36,000 words, but it will not interfere in any way with BDOR. No regular update schedule. Beta read by the lovely @needfantasticstories.

[lino-lov3]

my side - b.c

two — (776 words)

MASTERLIST to be added to the taglist fill out this form!

warnings: swearing

content: crack, fluff

danceracha goes to the studio with chan and help sage & jenni set up the auditorium

a/n: filler chapter since i’ll be double updating tomorrow

This work is NOT to be copied, reposted, translated or plagiarized. Please remember to reblog and leave your feedback if you enjoyed it! - pls do not spam like! you will be blocked.

with the showcase being tomorrow night, danceracha, some of the art and design students and 3racha are going to be setting up the auditorium after school.

which also means you and the rest of danceracha are going to be practicing extra hard tonight. minho has been trying to perfect every move and even came up with a back up plan in case anything goes wrong.

sure, it was stressing you guys out. mainly because the showcase wasn’t just for fun, it’s actually apart of your finals for the semester. but it was still exciting. getting to dance in front of an audience always was for you. it was your dream to do it professionally, but this would have to do for now.

——

after your ap chem class ends and your free period rolls around, you start heading over to chan’s studio with minho, hyunjin, and felix. jisung decides to tag along as well since he had nothing else to do while he waits for his next class. he’ll probably stay until then.

“we’re all going to the auditorium later, right?” felix asks

“mhm. we’re helping jenni and sage set up a little bit and finish the rest tomorrow morning i think.” you reply

“ugh, do we have to?” minho groans

“why are you whining so damn much? all you’ll probably have to do is mic checks and moving props.” hyunjin rolls his eyes at the older.

“shut up. i wanted to take a nap before my next class.”

you pat minho on his shoulder, “min, chill. you’ll be able to take a nap after we’re done. we have a quick stop at the studio to listen to the tracks and probably pre record. then head over to the auditorium after school.”

“that doesn’t sound quick, y/n.”

“yeah, knowing chan we’ll be in the studio for a while. you know he’s a perfectionist.” jisung laughs

“yeah, yeah yeah. come on you four, let’s hurry then.”

—

you shot chan a quick text as the five of you headed up the stairs.

you: hey, we’re down the hall. make sure the door is unlocked

chan: 👍🏻

as soon as you get to the room, jisung swings the door open and plops himself down on the couch. it scares chan nearly half to death since he had his headphones on.

“uh, uh. how come he gets to relax!?” minho huffs

“he doesn’t,” chan answers “ji, get up. i need your help with something.”

“ugh, why?”

chan glares at him, “come on, ji.”

“fine.”

“okay, now that everyone’s in here i’m gonna play the tracks for you. let me know how you like them or if i need to tweak anything and then we can get started. good?”

the rest of you nod. each grabbing a seat and getting comfortable.

the tracks were all amazing, as to be expected. chan had made them so of course they were.

he had given you and the other danceracha members a packet with your lines and highlighted them accordingly.

there were going to be three songs the four of you would perform. wow, taste, and dawn.

they were all more of a sexy beat, which your dance unit favored. it gave felix the chance to show off his abs, hyunjin the chance to stun the crowd with his sensual moves and charming looks, minho the chance to show off his thighs, and you to throw ass if you wanted to.

wow and taste were mostly vocals and you had already heard previews of the lyrics ahead of time so you somewhat new what you were working with. and dawn was a short dance break to go in between those two. like the others, it was slow, sensual, and just your vibe.

chan was amazing.

—

you guys ran threw everything a couple times, pre recording vocals before finally calling it a day and getting ready to leave.

“damn, chan. these are great!” jisung complements

”wasn’t all me. they’ve got the vocals for it. i just write and make beats so what can i say.” chan shrugs

“all jokes aside, you four did great. can’t wait for the show.”

there was about 30 minutes before everyone needed to get to their next classes so you and felix decided you’d go walk around campus in the mean time.

jisung stayed back as planned, minho went to one of the common areas by his next class to nap, and hyunjin went to go meet up with one of his other friends.

“you wanna go off campus and get some food?” felix asks, not looking up from his phone.

“yeah, why not. we have some time to kill anyways.”

𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽: @dadonbabysworld @lynanist @lix-ables @xhazmania @strayingawayy

PREV / NEXT

[dragonmuse]

Hiii I was curious, what else does Izzy (from the Leda House verse) discover/rediscover that he likes or enjoys doing?

(oooh great one! This made me think of Pickle helping Izzy rediscover how to play, so here are four times that someone re-introduced Izzy to something he enjoys)

 Play Pretend 

Izzy knocked louder than usual. There was shrieking coming from inside, probably enough to drown out the sound otherwise. A stampede of feet came to the door and then it flew open. Pickle, wrapped in purple blanket ran away from him and then Read scooped her up with a roar. 

“Uncle Izzy, help!” Pickle screeched in delight. “The dragon has me!” 

“And I’m going to gobble her all up!” Read agreed with a wink to him. 

“We should get going if we’re going to get to the movie in time.” 

Pickle went limp and gave him a baleful look, “But I can’t go to the movie if a dragon is going to gobble me up, I can’t watch it if my eyes are in her belly.” 

“Yeah,” Read tossed Pickle a little until the girl giggled. “Everyone knows it takes a brave knight to save the princess and get her to the theater before trailers start.” 

“Yeah!” Pickle insisted. 

Izzy took another step into the apartment. The door closed behind him. Pickle and Read looked at him expectantly. 

He reached for his hip and mimed pulling out a long sword, settling into a form he’d memorized from movies when he was little older than his niece. 

“Then you’d better start running, dragon,” he growled.

“Never!” 

There wasn’t a lot of room to manufacture a chase around Read’s apartment, but they managed quite a heated duel before Izzy was able to recapture Pickle, sling her laughing over his shoulder and head for the door. 

“We’ll meet again on the field of battle, sir knight!” Read laughed. 

“Well met, lady dragon, well met.” 

Hide and Go Seek 

“Okay, costume change!”  Bonnet sing-songed and Izzy dropped his camera to his chest with a grateful sigh. 

The summer festival poster photoshoot was becoming an annual tradition that Izzy could really do without. He was already charging Bonnet five times his usual rate and was considering upping it to ten next year. His headache had a headache. 

“I’m taking a break,” he announced to the open air, deciding he didn’t give a shit if anyone else knew he was leaving. 

“Charlie!” Stede called out. “Where are the props?” 

The boy had been helping out, but he was no Alma and seemed annoyed about the whole thing. He’d barely even acknowledged Izzy when he’d said hello, so he’d left him to his sulk. 

Izzy headed for the bar, intent on a glass of water. 

“You seen the boy?” Eddy got in his way. 

“I’ve been looking at you for the past hour,” Izzy sighed. “Why? He run off?” 

“I doubt he left,” Eddy frowned. “He’s good at disappearing though.” 

“Maybe leave him be,” Izzy went around her towards the bar. 

The kid’s name got called a few more times and then they must’ve decided on their own to leave Charlie to his own devices. Izzy went behind the bar and got a glass of water for himself. Lucius wasn’t even here today, off somewhere else in the city arranging other details. The place didn’t feel right without him. Not to Izzy at least, no one else seemed bothered. He drank his water slowly, eyes panning over the room. 

He could make out an odd shadow. Finishing off his water, he grabbed a bag of pretzels and strode across the room, keeping to the shadows of the far wall. Costume changes took a fair few minutes. He had time. 

The cleaning closet that Lucius had once gleefully colonized then abandoned in favor of the staff bathroom had reverted to it’s natural state in the last few years. When Izzy opened the door, there was mostly mops, brooms, a big garbage can and some other necessities. Including, one sulky teenager with his phone tucked in among the long poles. Kid was practically a broom himself these days. 

“If you shut the door and give me those,  you can stay,” Charlie told him without looking up from the screen.

Izzy dropped the pretzels into Charlie’s lap, pulled the door closed and jammed himself down across from him. It was a generously sized cleaning closet and Izzy’s legs weren’t particularly long. They both fit in without a squeeze. 

“What the fuck is biting your ass?” 

“Everything,” Charlie muttered, tearing open the bag. “Nothing.” 

“Uh huh.” 

“I just don’t want to push props around or get everyone’s stuff that they forgot out of storage then put it back or prep for the bar or stack wigs or prep a glitter cannon and I’ve done all that and more this afternoon already. Dad said this would only be two hours and then we’d go out for dinner, but it’s been four and no one is stopping.” 

“Can’t you head home?” 

“I’d have to tell Dad and she’ll be upset and talk about being a team player and then Eddy will weigh in and everyone else has something to say...” Charlie shook his head. “I don’t want that. I don’t even really mind helping, I’m just kind of done and be left alone.”

“I’ll be out of your hair in a few minutes,” Izzy sighed. 

“You’re okay,” Charlie said around a mouthful of pretzel. Izzy did not puff up over that. It was nothing to be proud of. But....well. 

“I’ll give you a twenty if you go pick me up a coffee when we start up again. You can go to place a few blocks away. Lines are usually pretty long. Get something for yourself while you’re there. I’ll tell your Dad.” 

“Really?” Charlie sat up. 

“Really. I could use it.” 

So Izzy pried himself off the floor after a few recuperative minutes, handed Charlie cash and headed back to the stage. 

“Saw Charlie,” he said, like it barely mattered to him when he saw Leda. “Sent him out to get me a coffee.” 

“He’s not your errand boy!” Leda snapped. 

“No? Seems like he’s everyone else’s today, figured I got a turn too.” 

“He’s not a servant, he’s just pulling his weight.” 

“So he’s pulling it at the coffee shop, who cares? I told him he could keep the change, he’s getting fucking compensated, you doing that?” 

Leda spat something, picked up her wig and flounced off. Izzy went back to fiddling with his camera. The idiot had to come back eventually, she was in the next set of pictures. Pete, how had been very quietly doing something to the curtain while all that was going on, slid in beside him, dress ruffling.

“Think you could send me  out for coffee?”  she whispered.  

“I’m considering sending you out for Luc. Is that what Lena is like when he’s not around?” 

“Yep.” 

“How is it worse?” 

“I mean...always worse when he’s not here.” 

Izzy could only miserably agree. 

Tag 

“What the hell is this?” Izzy grumbled as Jim did some stretches.  

“Just let them show you,” Read urged. “It’s really cool.” 

The setup was bizarre, wooden blocks of varying heights, sidewise trampolines and a mural of the city skyline painted on the walls. Jim had ducked in after they walked away from a job, insisting they come to burn off energy. Read had willingly followed and since that was him well overruled, Izzy came after. 

“You’ve come here?” 

“Sure,” Read said easily. “Jim showed me a few things. I’m not really built for it, but it’s neat.” 

A timer went off, a buzz that jolted through him and then Jim was off too. He had watched Jim operate for years. He wasn’t surprised with the jumps, the climbing, the easy way they move over obstacles. Yet, seeing it all flowing together without the interruption of people or cars was an impressive display. They finished the course in under a minute and turned back toward them with a grin of triumph. 

“What’d you think, boss?” 

He tilted his head, “Good shit. My turn?” 

Jim’s eyebrows flew up and then they ran back across, coming to bounce a little in front of him, “Willing to risk your brittle bones, old man?” 

“The rest of the afternoon off says I can tap you before you make it to the other side.” He wasn’t going to say he could beat them. This wasn’t his place and they were fucking fast.  

“You’re on. Read plays judge?” 

“Sure thing,” Read laughed. “I’ll just stay safely out of the way.” 

When the buzzer went off, Jim was out like a shot. There was no worry about burning out here, the course was too short.  Which was an advantage for Izzy too. He had taken the precious seconds to scope a path. He wasn’t going to be jumping and skittering around like a mouse. Instead, he took straightshots, weaving through the equipment. When Jim tackled a particularly high wall, he considered his options and then leapt. He wasn’t going to outclimb them, but he didn’t have to. He just had to get close enough to tug off their left sneaker. 

“Hey!” Jim protested as he jumped down, sneaker in hand and held it out to Read to see. 

“See you two in the morning,” he tucked the shoe under his arm. 

“Wait!” Read called after him. “You drove us here!” 

Izzy kept walking. He stayed near the fall pads and wasn’t particularly surprised when he crashed right into one. Jim was heavy when they wanted to be. 

“Boss, you suck,” they informed him, stealing back their sneaker. 

“Still the boss.” He considered his options, then moved quick, bucking upwards and using their weight against them to send Jim crashing down to the mat beside him. “Enjoy your data entry.” 

“Nooo,” they groaned. “Best of three?” 

“Nope,” he surged back to his feet. “Nice gym though. Thanks for the tour.” 

Jim flipped him off and he laughed all the way back to the car. 

Dancing 

Luicus counted under his breath. It was probably a bad habit if they were meant to be mastering this, but Izzy didn’t really give a shit. He was no dance instructor and they were just standing in their bedroom in the clear patch between the bed and the window. They didn’t even have the overhead light on, just the warm glow of a single lamp. 

They moved their feet in time with Lucius’ nearly silent numbers. There was music pouring from Izzy’s phone on the end table, a crooner’s voice preserved beyond the grave. He sang about love and the stars and the moon. 

The moment was so fragile that Izzy wanted to hold his breath. It would be so easy to make this something they laughed at, or something that was too silly to maintain. Luicus was leading, despite Izzy knowing the steps better.  Neither of them had stepped on a toe yet. There was space between their bodies. They were linked only by their hands, palm to palm then Izzy’s resting against Lucius’ shoulder and Lucius’ on Izzy’s waist. 

Together they traversed in tight circles.  

Lucius’ numbers gave way to words, the slightest thread of song as he caught the chorus and mouthed along to it. 

There was no one here to see. No one here to notice how Izzy leaned forward and closed the gap not with an embrace, but resting his cheek on Lucius’ other shoulder. They went on swaying as the song faded and the next began. Like the dancers on a music box they swirled around and around, content in each other’s arms.

[shallowseeker]

when dean thinks he’s alone, he definitely dances to (embarrassing) songs in the kitchen

///

there are exactly twelve times he gets caught.

1. the first time, it’s sam. dean knows it’s sam because sam doubles over in over-the-top laughter right away.

for weeks after that, sam starts singing, “too high, can’t come do—own,” in a britney-toned falsetto.

the dick.

2. the second time isn’t so bad. dean’s doing a lil sock-footed shimmy to aretha franklin’s r-e-s-p-e-c-t, and he catches a face-full of kevin tran’s spit-take.

pepsi. yuck.

coulda been worse for sure.

3. the third time’s pretty bad. he really should know better by now.

dean’s in his dead-guy robe, and one of those crackley old recordings of irving berlin’s dancing cheek to cheek comes on over the tinny radio he’s got propped up in the bunker kitchen. (grammy hall of fame 2000 version.) dean imagines frank sinatra and ginger rogers, and he starts to sway, liking how his robe billows around when he spins. it’s a little bit like fighting, except…

…the big band sound’s got him feeling a little giddy.

he spins a little faster and mouths along to the lyrics, “And the cares that hung around me through the week, Seem to vanish like a gamblers lucky streak, When we're out together dancing cheek to cheek.”

dean picks up the still-cold cast iron skillet (he plans to make an omelet in a little while) and smooshes his hot, hot cheek against its cold surface.

the music swells.

Dance with me , I want my arm about you , That charm about you, Will carry me through to Heaven

and suddenly, cas is there. his face is pinched as he watches and—shit that’s actually cas. in the doorway. not some weirdo daydream.

the skillet lands on dean’s foot with a painful thud, and dean slams his hand down on the radio and fumbles till the volume cuts completely.

“dammit cas! don’t sneak up on a guy like that!”

(cas is still a new and relatively uncommon presence in the bunker, after all.)

“i wasn’t…sneaking. Dean, your foot.”

dean ignores the skillet on the ground and puts a hand on his hip, affecting hopefully something blasé and uncaring. “hm? oh. my foot’s good, dude.”

cas raises a brow, then pointedly tracks his eyes to the table across the room.

just peachy.

now cas wants to heal him. this just gets better and better. dean takes a limping step.

ow. nope.

yeah, if he limps his way over there, it’ll be obvious how much his damn toes hurt.

next, cas looks pointedly at the taller, bar height table—the one closer to the stove, and to dean. dean mutters an annoyed, “okay, okay,” before making a great show of rolling his eyes and hoisting himself up.

“it’s not that bad, cas.” he swings his feet childishly for emphasis.

cas kneels. and slides off dean’s soft house-shoe. his fingerpads wrap around dean’s ankle as he leans forward to inspect.

yeah, the toes are swollen as fuck. three of them are purple and there’s black blood underneath the second toenail. (that pressure is probably what hurts. were he alone, dean would probably drill a hole in it or yank the nail, just to release the pressure.)

as it is, dean’s already relaxing before cas even fixes it, probably a pavlovian response to cas healing him so many times.

then hot, hot grace flows in, and the pain ebbs away. cas’s fingers drift down towards dean’s toes, like he’s checking them one last time.

for some damn reason, dean wriggles his toes as cas’s fingers sweep by. then, like dean’s toes have some kind of angel banishing sigil carved on them, cas is up and headed for the library, muttering something about helping sam.

it’s probably dean’s imagination, but he thinks he hears cas humming the sinatra song, a whole week later.

dean thinks about how the skillet felt against his cheek.

[nel-world]

hi

INT. COFFEE SHOP – DAY

ANITA How’s it going?

NICK Just got back from an audition at Champion Studios.how about you

ANITA Oh, I was teaching at the dance studio.

Mind if I borrow your hat? I could use it for the musical im working .

nick Of course! what is it about

ANITA I’m working on the storyline for the musical. It follows an actor wrestling with her identity and relationships while traveling the world.

ANITA Isn’t it amazing how music and dance work together?

NICK Yeah, they just flow, like they’re speaking the same language.

NICK Or adds a whole new layer.

anita we should do something

nick like

anita shoot a reel

nick here?

anita come on

abita lets check the footage nick it looks great

ANITA I usually at Champion Studios on Sundays…

NICK Let me know if you ever need an extra hand. INT. REHEARSAL SPACE – DAY

Anita is rehearsing a song from her musical, pouring emotion into each note.

ANITA (singing) "I’m lost in the silence, searching for words to say…"

She pauses, breaking character. Nick enters and claps.

NICK That’s beautiful. I love it.

ANITA Hey, what are you doing here?

NICK I just wanted to check in—you mentioned you'd be rehearsing.

ANITA I’m working on my song, but I’m stuck on the chorus.

NICK It sounds great. What’s the theme?

ANITA Finding hope in tough times.

NICK How about, "When the world’s crashing down, we’ll rise up, we’ll fight…"

ANITA (nodding, excited) Are you a songwriter too?

NICK (smiling) "We’ll chase away the darkness, with our love shining bright…"

ANITA "And together we’ll conquer, we’ll soar to new heights…"

They share a warm smile.

NICK How’d you get into all this?

ANITA (looking at an old photo) Into…? Oh — my aunt was an actress in a traveling theater company.

Anita’s eyes soften, lost in memory.

ANITA There was this little library across the street from my house in Boulder City, Nevada. Every house looked exactly the same. I was ten and already needed to get out. My aunt flew into town one day and showed me the library’s old-movie section. We spent the entire day watching classic films—Bringing Up Baby, Notorious, Casablanca.

(slight beat) I never knew the world was so big.

(smiling, nostalgic) I started putting on plays in my garage. I'd write the scripts, print programs, and she’d give me props from wherever she’d just been—New York, London, Paris.

anita its a two person musical i woule like u play a role

nick sure

anita let me send u the script

nick sure

INT. NICK'S APARTMENT – NIGHT

Nick sits on his unmade bed, reading Anita’s script. He hums, trying to find a tune, occasionally checking his phone, looking slightly anxious.

INT. ANITA'S APARTMENT – NIGHT

Anita answers her phone.

ANITA Hey, how's it going?

NICK Hey, Anita! I’m good, just reading your script. How about you?

ANITA Have you checked out Act 2?

NICK Yeah, it looks good. How about adding a few lines in Hindi when the lead meets locals in India? It could add emotional depth.

ANITA Okay, what do you have in mind?

NICK (in Hindi) "Hamare dilon ki awaaz hai jo humein ek doosre se jodti hai." (It’s the voice of our hearts that connects us.)

ANITA (smiling) That’s beautiful.

NICK Let’s meet tomorrow for coffee.

ANITA Sounds good.

NICK Talk to you tomorrow. Bye! INT. STUDIO SPACE – DAY

Anita and Nick sit at a desk, working on scripts, making final adjustments. The atmosphere is calm.

NICK As I was saying on the phone—have you thought about adding more foreign language into your script?

ANITA But I don’t know how to write in another language.

Nick smirks and leans in.

NICK I can help with that.

He clears his throat and speaks in Hindi.

NICK (in Hindi) "Mera naam Nick hai. Main is pariyojana par aapke saath kaam karne ke liye bahut khush hoon. Aap mere liye prerana srot hain." (My name is Nick. I am very happy to be working with you on this project. You are an inspiration to me.)

ANITA I don’t understand, but that sounds great!

NICK It means "My name is Nick. I am very happy to be working with you on this project. You are an inspiration to me." let me rent out studio space.

EXT. NYC – DAY

Anita and Nick rehearse a scene together.

ANITA A producer wants to back our musical. We have a week to finish it. This is our chance.

NICK I know, but we can’t rush. Let’s get Act 2 right.

ANITA I was thinking about the Hindi dialogue you added. It’s working well.

NICK Glad you like it. Let’s add more moments like that.

ANITA I’ve been practicing some Hindi. Want to hear?

NICK Sure!

ANITA (in Hindi) Main hoon Anita.

Nick claps, impressed.

NICK That was great! Your pronunciation is spot on.

NICK Let’s rehearse the opening song of the musical.

ANITA (singing, with feeling) "In the shadows, where I’ve been so long, I’m searching for a place where I belong… But deep inside, I feel a spark, A way to chase away the dark…"

Nick steps closer, joining in with his verse.

NICK (singing, encouraging) "I’ve walked through nights with no end in sight, But I’m holding on, I’ll find the light… We’ve got the strength, we’ve got the will, Together, we can climb this hill…"

ANITA (singing, harmonizing with Nick) "We’ll rise above, we’ll break these chains, And leave behind all the pain… In the light, we’ll stand so tall, And in the end, we’ll have it all…"

NICK That’s good. Let me think about some ideas, and we can connect tomorrow.

INT. NYC STUDIO - DAY, SCENE 7

Nick and Anita are in the middle of a discussion. Nick shares his thoughts, attempting to convey his ideas.

NICK I’ve got some ideas—like props, LED screens—really make a splash.

ANITA This show doesn’t need all that. It’s about the story.

NICK But it needs to stand out. You’re too focused on keeping it simple.

ANITA (raising her voice) It’s about staying true to the story, not making a splash.

NICK I’m just trying to bring something fresh. Maybe you’re too stuck on your vision.

ANITA (voice trembling) This project is personal. It feels like you’re just here for yourself.

NICK (shouting) Maybe I am! If that’s a problem, maybe we’re not on the same page.

ANITA Maybe we’re not. I thought we were creating something together, but maybe we’re better off on our own.

NICK Fine. Let’s leave it at that.

A few days later.

Nick texts Anita.

TEXT FROM NICK Can we talk?

TEXT FROM ANITA Okay. Tomorrow.

EXT. NYC STREET - DAY, SCENE 7.1

Nick and Anita meet, the tension between them still palpable.

NICK Let’s start over. I need to confess something.

ANITA What is it?

NICK At first, I didn’t believe in your musical. I just needed a distraction—I didn’t care about the story.

Anita is taken aback.

ANITA So it wasn’t about us, just you?

NICK Initially, yes. But then I saw how much it meant to you, and I started to care. I pushed for changes to make it successful for both of us.

ANITA You let me believe it was about us.

NICK I’m sorry. I didn’t want to seem like a failure. But I see now that hiding the truth made things worse.

Anita looks at him, conflicted.

ANITA It still hurts.

NICK I’m not asking you to forget—just to give me a chance to prove I care about the project… and about you.

Anita pauses, then nods slightly.

ANITA We’ll see.

EXT. NYC STREET - DAY, SCENE 8

Nick and Anita meet, the tension between them still palpable.

NICK Let’s start over. I need to confess something.

ANITA What is it?

NICK At first, I didn’t believe in your musical. I just needed a distraction—I didn’t care about the story.

Anita is taken aback.

ANITA So it wasn’t about us, just you?

NICK Initially, yes. But then I saw how much it meant to you, and I started to care. I pushed for changes to make it successful for both of us.

ANITA You let me believe it was about us.

NICK I’m sorry. I didn’t want to seem like a failure. But I see now that hiding the truth made things worse.

Anita looks away, processing this revelation.

ANITA I thought we were creating something beautiful.

NICK takes a deep breath.

NICK Can we still try? For your aunt? For us?

Anita studies Nick’s face, searching for sincerity.

ANITA For her… yes. But we have to do this together, no more hiding.

Nick nods, a sense of relief washing over him.

NICK Together, no more secrets.

anita i think we are almost done with scripy

nick let us submit to the producer

They share a warm smile, slowly breaking the tension.

EXT. NYC STREET - DAY, SCENE 11

Nick and Anita are rushing to finalize the musical, both feeling the pressure.

anita i have some the musical got the funding

nick that's so cool

EXT. NYC STREET - DAY, SCENE 12

Anita and Nick are talking through final details when Anita’s phone rings, breaking the tension.

NICK What is it?

ANITA The producer wants He wants to take it to London,

nick im not sure if i can move to London i have my father i have hess show audition coming

im sorry

anita

//////////

anita im sorry i need to go

/////////

ANITA Hey,how is it going

im here in the city

nick how did it go ANITA i ended up not going

NICK (nervously) im sorry we could collobrate on the musical but I’ve been thinking about my solo show, and… I really need your help.

There’s a pause as Anita senses the weight of his words.

ANITA Of course! What do you need?

NICK (taking a deep breath) I want to make it more personal, more… me. But I’m stuck. I could really use your perspective.

Anita leans forward, intrigued.

ANITA I’d love to help! How about we meet up tomorrow? We can brainstorm together.

NICK (relieved) That sounds great. Thank you, Anita. This means a lot to me.

.. NICK So, I was thinking about starting the show with a story about my first audition. It was a disaster, but it’s where it all began.

Anita nods, taking notes.

ANITA That’s a perfect opener! It’ll set the tone and show your vulnerability.

Nick takes a moment, then looks directly at Anita, determination in his eyes.

NICK I want to incorporate music that reflects my journey, too. What if we use original songs that speak to those experiences?

Anita’s eyes light up, clearly excited by the idea.

ANITA Absolutely! We can create a soundtrack that evolves with the narrative. It’ll help the audience feel every twist and turn.

Nick leans closer, his enthusiasm contagious.

NICK And I’d love for you to help with the arrangements. Your musical touch would elevate it.

Anita smiles, touched by the invitation.

ANITA I’d be honored! Let’s make this show something special.

[just-being-leonest]

Live thoughts about season 2 episode 1

I am exhausted mentally so have fun deciphering what I’m saying

Transition from 0;48-0;49 was abrupt

why haven’t we heard about siblings before?

“cease this bitch crying” the curse is unneeded. it doesn’t fit with the kingly vibe of the character. he’s an asshole father yes but hes also supposed to be a regal king. you don’t need a curse there, it breaks character.

the circus bit with just blitz and fizz seems... kinda dumb and nonsensical? maybe something is just flying over my head but that scene feels empty and not in a good way

hold up... so i havent finished the episode yet (at 5;21) but did stolas’s family fucking own blitz? if so that makes stoliz even worse of a ship and even if they didnt that power dynamic is so fucking off. 

the balloon animal scene is... interesting

blitz having an abusive and manipulative father doesn’t excuse the fact he is now an asshole that ignores boundaries and uses people. a great example of this is bojack horseman

why hasn’t it been mentioned that they fucking know each other from childhood before? 

“I’m so good at daddy-ing” the only funny quote from helluva boss

“The living world” so are... demons and imps and shit not alive or smthing?

yeah no hes not a good boss. 

imma be honest, maybe it’s me being aromantic and not understanding love and shit, but if the person i liked as a kid came over and stole a bunch of shit from me, tricking me into helping them, 25 years later i wouldn’t still like that kid.

OKAY DOES STELLA FUCKING LIVE THERE OR NOT

LIKE SERIOUSLY EPISODE SEVEN

STOLAS SAID OCTAVIA WAS AT HER MOTHERS

IT WAS LATE AT NIGHT

WE CAN ASSUME SHE LEFT WITH OCTAVIA

SO DOES STELLA FUCKING LIVE THERE OR N O T

edit: apparently this was a flashback which. wasn’t made clear. at all

edit edit: SHE STILL FUCKING LIVES THERE????

also is no one gonna stop and think that Stella was also forced into this marriage?

like oh no shes an asshole kid

so is blitz

okay nitpick but the glass was empty when she threw it against the window why did it leave a red stain. 13;37

WAIT THIS ISNT PRESENT DAY

TF YOU COULDVE MADE THAT MORE CLEAR

Also the power imbalance here isnt sexy its disgusting

✨manipulation✨ and ✨power imbalance✨

“i barely remember your name” bitch why tf you lusting after him still-

sex repulsed ace just became more sex repulsed 

i skipped through the... i dont want to call it foreplay. ive read better foreplay in smut fanfiction written by virgin 12 year olds.

“thats the sound of a fucking divorce” SO WHY IS SHE TRYING TO KILL HIM

calling anti depressants happy pills is classy. stay classy viv. 

im not listening to the song i have no energy nor time for that bs i have an episode of welcome to demon school iruma-kun that’s begging to be watched after this

DOES

STELLA

FUCKING

LIVE 

THERE

OR

NOT

OKAY THANK YOU FOR THE ANSWER

Can you not kick her out

or just 

idk

fucking

move

YOU HAVENT GOTTEN THE DIVORCE YET

also random thoughth but yes i do consider stella abusive

funny how all the female characters in helluva boss with any sense of story purpose are either dicks (or framed as such in the case of Verosika) or are just there as props to give the male characters some semblance of a character

all in all

episode was confusing

and characters werent v realistic

3/10

[thefanficmonster]

Power Couple

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing 

Genre: Fluff, Humor

Summary: Sean, Felix, Dave, and Joel welcome Corpse’s girlfriend to a game of Party Animals. It’s her first time playing and she has to deal with a lot more than just the controls and objectives - her boyfriend being a cute, cuddly sweetheart with ulterior motives to his clinginess.

Requested by @susceptible-but-siriusexual. Thank you so much for your request! Hope I captured what you wanted and how you wanted. Feel free to send any other requests you may have XOXO

It’s been one hell of a day. Had to correct twice as many documents as I was originally supposed to at work; found my car with a flat tire in the parking lot as I was about to go home; argued with my boss over the phone while stuck in a traffic jam. It’s been a rough twelve hours, but it has led me here and that’s what I’d rather think about.

By ‘here’ I mean I’m sitting on the couch in Corpse’s recording room, my computer in my lap, my screen displaying the screen to the game Party Animals. The suggestion was Corpse’s. He immediately picked up on my below par mood and wasted no time finding a solution to bright up the remainder of the day, shadowing the shitty portion of it. I am not what you would call a gamer. Sure I’ve played Among Us with Corpse and his friends a few times. Even that I struggle to do because I’m internally fangirling over all the people in the lobby. Yeah, dating a youtuber doesn’t mean you automatically stop gushing over the many content creators on the platform you’ve been watching for quite some time now. Corpse knows how nervous I get so he’s always near me when we play with Sean, Felix and the other. All he has to do is give me that encouraging smile and wink of his and I’m good to go. Side note: massive props to him for going easy on me in Among Us, getting teasingly called ‘simp’ by his friends in the process.

“You’ll love it.“ He promised me over and over again as the game was downloading on my computer.

“I don’t doubt that, Corpse. But I am going in completely blind and I seriously don’t wanna embarrass myself.“ I mumble a quick ‘nor you‘ under my breath, hoping he doesn’t catch it because I’m in for a pep talk if he does. 

To my dismay, he does, “Listen here, you couldn’t embarrass me even if you actively tried to do something outrageous. Most likely scenario, I’d join you in the act.” He ducks in front of the couch so we’re at eye level, his hand coming up to cup my cheek in the sweetest, most comforting gesture ever. “We’ll show em who’s the boss at stealing candy.”

I can’t help but laugh, feeling unable to express just how much this man means to me. Words can’t do the feeling justice.

“Y/N!“

“Y/N!!“

“Corpse Wife has arrived!“

Hearing all the greetings lights a flame in my chest, the warmth spreading all the way to my neck and cheeks. “Hi guys! Missed playing with you!”

“We missed you too!“ Dave, the only one of the gaming gang I’ve actually met in person, replies to me, his words along with all the others’ wrapping around me like a comfort blanket. Despite them knowing I’m a fan of theirs, they’ve always made me feel welcomed, comfortable, nothing less than them.

“You know anything about this game?“ Felix asks me.

I shake my head, almost forgetting he can’t see me, “Corpse told me it’s funny and cute. It sounds like the perfect game for me.” 

“Oh no, this is a game of survival. Survival of the fittest!“ Sean shouts excitedly, a bang following his shout I can only assume was him hitting his desk.

“I’d like to think I’m pretty fit.“ I shrug my shoulders, laughing along with the guys.

“This is the only way to find out if you actually are.“ Joel’s voice comes through my headphones in the form of a tease.

Sean mumbles quietly to himself as he’s deciding how to separate us in two teams. “Guys, a little help here. We all suck at this game, it doesn’t really matter who’s in which team.”

“Actually...“ Felix trails off, “Corpse and Y/N are the ultimate power couple in Among Us. Chances are they will be in this as well. So, the only logical move would be to...“

“I’m taking Y/N, you take Corpse.“ Sean declares. “Joel, Dave, who do you guys wanna be with?“

And the game starts. Sean, Joel and I are the Meowfia while Corpse, Felix and Dave are yet to choose a team name. We throw around snarky, cocky comments at each other, taunting the opposite team as we struggle to take the candy to our respective sides of the map.

“Don’t you dare pull that lever, Dave!“ I launch at Dave, knocking his cute avatar away from the lever, buying Joel and Sean some time to steal back the gummy bear Corpse and Felix took from us.

“Y/N! Joel is out! Help me!“ Sean is freaking out now. I ditch Dave’s unconscious body and run to Sean’s aid. 

As I’m helping him push it towards out area a member from the opposite team latches onto my avatar, weighing me down and hindering me from doing anything.

“Hug!“ Corpse laughs as he has literally turned into a koala, holding onto my avatar.

“Corpse, you know you are actually supposed to hinder Y/N, not hug her. It’s cute though, don’t get me wrong.“ Felix laughs as him and Sean continue to struggle over the gummy bear.

“Nah, his tactic’s great. I can’t do shit.“ I desperately try and shake him off, “Babe, this is unfair. I can’t even be mad at you!“ I whine, staring to panic now that Dave is back to life and Joel is nowhere to be seen.

The round is won by Felix, Dave and Corpse who, if I might add, didn’t let go of me for the rest of the game.

We switch maps, now every man for himself. We’re on the submarine, recreating the Hunger Games with cute fuzzy animals. The thought passes through my mind, causing me to giggle.

“Y/N, you sound exactly like I’d imagine your avatar to sound. You’re so cute.“ Sean’s avatar circles mine a few times as he laughs.

He’s not wrong, my pale blue puppy is indeed cute. Apparently immortal as well.

“How is Y/N still alive?! Holy shit, her and Corpse really are a power couple.“ Dave shrieks when he sees me pick up the freeze gun. “NOOO!“ He shouts, devastated by the fact I shot him, sending him straight to his death.

“Chill, Dave. It’s all cool. Nothing personal.“ I struggle to hide my laughter, “No hard feelings, right?“

“Of course not, love.“ I can tell he grits the sentence through clenched teeth.

“Aw Dave, you are such an ice guy.“ I giggle, now shooting Joel with the gun.

“Someone take that gun from her!“ Sean cries as him and Felix race up the submarine.

Suddenly, the avatar of my boyfriend again wraps itself around mine. I hadn’t seen him in a while, considering Sean knocked him into the ocean earlier in the round. 

“How are you still alive?!“ I try to spin my puppy to get him to let go but he holds on tightly. “Babe, I swear, you are cute and I love you, but this is ridiculous. How and why are you alive?”

“That’s his superpower! He never fucking dies.“ Felix laughs, letting out a yelp when he briefly slips while climbing.

“Immortals!!! Immortals!!!“ Sean breaks out into a song, a song I really like, breaking the restraints I had on my laughter.

“Drop the gun or we’re dying together.“ He says almost seriously. Even though I can only see the back of his head I know he’s grinning.

“A Titanic/Romeo and Juliet mashup? Why not? I can live with dying a double historical death.“ Even though I appear accepting of his offer, I’m still trying to set myself free.

In the end, Sean claims his first win of the game and the rest of us are dead at the bottom of the ocean. Corpse and I did indeed die a Romeo and Juliet/Titanic death, getting everyone in their feels. We make a deal to get together and play again as soon as possible and we all go our separate ways, exiting the Discord call.

*Later that night* 

After a dinner consisting of takeout and two thirds of a shitty romantic comedies, Corpse shifts from next to me, starting to get up from the couch. I am surprised to feel jolted out of a half sleep as the room is now completely silent, the TV being turned off.

“Hey where’re you going?“ I ask groggily, rubbing my sleepy eyes.

“I have some editing to do. Don’t worry, I won’t stay up too late.“ He kisses my forehead before grabbing his phone from the coffee table.

Just as he’s about to walk away, I wrap my arms around his legs. He laughs, catching onto what I’m insinuating. His chuckle brings a smile to my face and butterflies in my belly. No matter how long we date for or how much time we spend together, some things never change. 

“Payback, huh?“ He asks, the smile audible in the question. I keep my eyes shut but nod, my arms still around his legs. “Alright, you koala. You’re coming with me.”

In his recording room, he settles in his chair placing me in his lap in a way that my legs dangling off to the side, my side leaning against his chest, my face hidden in the crook of his neck. We’re both comfortable, content and relaxed.

I don’t know when exactly it happens, but all my mind has registered is a quiet ‘I love you’ and the soft touch of Corpse’s lips on my temple. I manage to reply with an ‘I love you too’ before my sleepiness consumes me, my body completely relaxing against his, the warmth of his body, his scent, the sound of his breathing making me feel safe and loved: the two feelings I want him to feel with the same intensity when I’m in his arms.

Something tells me he does.

@simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios  @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help

[weelittleweasley]

my girl (f.w.)

prompt: you always knew fred would be a great dad and every day he exceeds your expectations

pairing: dad! fred x mom! reader

warnings: pregnancy, hospitals, children (yes, children is a warning), mild language, suggestion and brief mention of sex, thunderstorm, fear of thunder/rain.

word count: 6.2k

author’s note: THIS BITCH SO LONG IM SO SORRY this is the last installment of the 60s writing challenge!! thank you to everyone who has tuned in!!

taglist: @rosaliepostsstuff @harrysweasleys @gcdricreads @lumos-barnes @whizboingies @lumosandnoxwriting @pxroxide-prinxcesss @c-t-h @lol-idk-oops @another-lonely-heart-blog​ @kaseyrose96-blog​ @hufflepuff5972 @valwritesx @parseltongueswriting @shilohpug @peachypotter @spacexcowgirl @paintballkid711 @vogueweasley​ @amourtentiaa @sweeterthansammy​ @gryffindcrghost​ @wand3ringr0s3​

It was laughable; the way Fred stared at your large pregnant belly with eyes full of anticipation, hands placed on either sides of it, waiting for your child to kick at his hands. You giggled as he gently whispered to your protruding stomach, “Come on, little one. It’s your daddy. Give us a little kick, yeah?” Your stomach remained still as he lightly groaned, only making you laugh. “This child already likes keeping me on my wit’s end,” he grumbled before kissing your belly. “I’m just teasing,” he whispered again to the bump. “I love you so much.”

You brush your fingers through Fred’s hair, him sighing as you do. Fred had been so darling over the past nine months of your pregnancy. He found more staff for the joke shoppe to take over the early morning shifts and the night shifts so he could spend those hours taking care of you, helping around the house, and preparing for the baby’s arrival. You were always Fred’s number one priority, but that was set in stone after you became pregnant. He would literally drop anything if you even murmured that you needed something. Fred would wake up first and get your prenatal vitamins ready for you to drink with a large glass of water, he’d make breakfast, clean the kitchen, and only then would he wake you up. You had to admit, you could get used to living like this. But alas, you were past your due date and the baby was expected any day now.

“She loves you too, Freddie,” you tell him as you prop yourself up on your elbows, getting a better look at your husband who still rubs his hands over your stomach, searching for your unborn baby’s feet.

Fred looks up at you with questioning eyes. “She?” Fred could honestly care less about the sex of his child, as long as the baby was healthy. That’s all he could truly ask for. But secretly, deep down, Fred wanted a little girl, a princess. Someone who could be his princess since he had already found his queen.

You smiled with a shrug, “I have a feeling. I know it’s supposed to be a surprise, but when you know you know, don’t you?”

With that, against the skin of your stomach, pressed against Fred’s hand is two large kicks. Fred’s eyes widen as he sits up, feeling his child kick against his hands as the two of you laugh. Fred smiles wide and says, “Is that a sign?” he stares up at you with excited eyes as you cover your mouth laughing with glee. “Is that right, baby? A little girl?” he whispers to your belly, earning another two strong kicks as the two of you laugh out with delight. “A little princess and a strong one at that!” he cheers. “We’ve got a little football player on our hands, don’t we? Well, too bad, because your daddy is going to teach you all about quidditch.”

-------

The hospital room was quiet, no one daring to disturb the air that surrounded the newborn baby girl that was fast asleep on your chest. Her plump cheeks squished against your bare chest made you and Fred smile with delight. A healthy baby girl born after a brutally long labor, but it was all worth it. You softly kissed the top of her head, making her stir in her sleep. 

You looked over at Fred to see him, gently wipe tears from his eyes as he gazed upon your newborn daughter. In this room, he had everything he’d ever wanted. The sight of your husband looking so lovingly at your daughter made your heart swell as you felt hot tears prick up behind your eyes. Reaching out, you cupped Freddie’s cheek as brushed away with happy tears with your thumb. Freddie looked up at you with eyes so tender and a smile so warm, you giggled out a sob. “She’s perfect,” he quietly spoke to you as you nodded your head in agreement. 

She really was the most precious thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Her button nose and soft features rested upon her gentle skin, tufts of strawberry blonde hair poking out from the cap the hospital dressed her in. Her lips were pink and squished against your chest as small dreaming noises escaped now and again. Your darling little girl, your little flower.

“Daisy,” you spoke softly to Fred as you brushed your daughter’s cheek softly.

The two of you had spoke about what to name the baby for a while, a few names tossed around here and there, but none of them felt right. Until Daisy popped into your head.

Fred nodded his head with a happy smile, “Yeah.” In her sleep, the baby stirred at the sound of Fred’s voice, making him scoot impossibly closer to the hospital bed, leaning close to his daughter. “How do you like that, love bug?” he cooed at the sleeping baby on your chest. “Daisy,” he smiled to himself. “I love you so much. You’re going to give mommy a run for her money,” he joked, making you roll your eyes with a breathy chuckle. Fred looked up at you and placed a kiss to your forehead. “I can’t believe we made something as perfect as she is,” he shakes his head in disbelief. 

You smiled at your husband and sighed. The man before you was so perfect, helplessly in love with you and the child you created. Slowly, you peeled sleeping Daisy off of your chest and handed her over to an eager Fred, scooping her in his arms, cradling the baby close to his chest. Fred cooed down at his baby who slowly fluttered her eyes open, peering her dark eyes, that looked so like Fred’s, up at him. You laid back in the hospital bed, relaxing as you watched Fred murmur to Daisy, speaking gently and kissing her forehead and nose every now and again. As if you couldn’t fall more in love with Fred, watching him become a father was enough to make you fall in love fifty more times. 

Fred rose from the chair he was sat in and started walking around the hospital room, rocking the baby and talking to her about the life she was going to have. “Just wait until Uncle George gets his hands on you,” he whispered as you silently laughed. “Grandma Molly is going to spoil the hell out of you,” he shook his head for his eyes widened and he looked at you. “I shouldn’t curse in front of our baby, should I?” he asks as you shake your head. “Damn it,” he curses again as he winces. “I’ll stop now,” he huffs making you laugh as your eyes feel heavy. The long labor had you exhausted and you had been up with Daisy feeding her and watching her alongside Fred. “Darling,” Fred cooed at you, “get some rest, please. I’ve got Daisy and she’s not due for another feeding for some time. You need to get some rest,” he tells you, walking over to the bed, helping pull the sheets up to cover you as you look up at his handsome face. “I’ll take care of our baby. Don’t worry.”

With a teasing sleepy smile on your face, you say, “I don’t know how much I trust you with a newborn child.” Fred gives you a look, making you chuckle. “I’m kidding, love, I’m kidding.” Fred kisses your forehead, your nose, and then your lips gently, him rubbing your cheek with his thumb. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Fred speaks before placing another kiss to your lips softly. He sits himself in the chair again, Daisy looking sleepy again herself. He sighs before clearing his throat and gently starting to sing a melody that sounded all too familiar to you. “I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day,” he sings, making your heart flutter in your chest. “When it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May,” his voice is soothing, the vibrations from his chest calming Daisy down and putting her in a sleepy trance. “I guess you’d say what can make me feel this way, my girl, talkin’ ‘bout my girl,” his deep voice sings the familiar love song.

Fred looks at you as you watch him with a small smile on your face, tears welling up in your eyes. He was singing your wedding song to your baby. It felt like a dream. Being married to the man you’ve always loved, seeing him cradle your beautiful baby girl in his arms, singing the song you would dance to as teenagers. It was unreal, but somehow, you were lucky enough to be living in it.

“I got so much honey, the bees envy me. I’ve got a sweeter song than the birds in the trees,” he continues to sing along, slowly putting both you and Daisy to sleep as you flutter your eyes closed, happy and safe.

-----------

The drive back from the hospital was slow. Fred insisting on not driving faster than twenty miles an hour even though the speed limit was thirty. This caused many cars on the road to change lanes and shoot Fred dirty looks. 

“Fred, honey, you can drive faster than this. She’s in a car seat, strapped in very well as you made sure of before we left the hospital, and the road is very clear considering everyone has driven around you,” you tell him from the passenger seat.

He shakes his head, “No way. I am remaining as safe as humanly possible. Can’t risk putting my little flower petal in harm’s way.”

But eventually, you arrived back to your house where your friends and family awaited your arrival patiently. You turned the keys in the lock and pushed the door open, Fred following closely behind you with Daisy in her carrier. “We’re home,” you sing song out at the bunches of people who awaited your arrival in your home.

Everyone rises from the couches and chairs in your home, big smiles on their faces when they see you, Fred, and Daisy enter the door. Molly gasps and covers her mouth, tears already welling up in her eyes as Fred sighs. “Ron! Mum is already crying, you owe me two galleon!” George calls out. “I call holding it first!” George calls out.

“It?” Ginny makes fun of her brother with a light chuckle as Ron cackles from the other side of the couch, earning a pillow toss in the face from George. “I reckon I should hold the baby first considering I am going to be the godmother, right, (Y/N)?” Ginny asks.

George lets out a laugh, “Hilarious, Ginny. Last time I checked it was my twin who had the baby. Surely, I will be the godparent and the first one to hold it.”

“Stop calling the baby it!” Ginny reprimands him. “The baby is a...wait, you never told us what the baby’s sex is,” Ginny looks to you and Fred as the two of you are too preoccupied laughing at the antics of the group already. You weren’t even home five minutes and there was already arguing. “So?”

You look to Fred, giving him the honor of announcing the baby’s sex. “Everyone will get a turn holding her,” he announces as Ginny cheers out in victory, Ron owing George another two galleons, as Molly and Hermione squeal in excitement. “But who ever holds her first needs to wash their hands. I don’t want any dirty paws on my perfect baby girl,” he coos into the carrier before you take off the buckle and scoop Daisy into your arms as she stretches in your arms.

Ginny and George both make a mad dash to the sink, pushing the other out of their ways, trying to wash their hands first. You shake your head with a chuckle, and look down at your baby girl who is fast asleep still, still too young to understand the chaos of a family she was born into. 

Molly laughs and speaks, “While those two battle of the soap, little do they know I already washed and sanitized my hands when I came in.” You laugh, knowing Molly Weasley came prepared to be the first one to hold her grandchild. 

“Wait,” Fred stops his mother before you can pass the baby over to her. He pulls a vile of hand sanitizer from his pocket and squirts two drops in his mother’s hands, just in case. You slap his arm. “What? Can’t be too safe,” he defends himself. After Molly rubs in the gel, she looks at her son, giving him a sarcastic look. “Alright, now you can hold her,” he speaks as Molly rolls her eyes as you gently place Daisy in her arms.

Molly looks down at the newest addition to the Weasley family and her lights light up. Arthur looks over her shoulder and smiles softly at the beautiful babe in Molly’s arms. “She’s just a doll, isn’t she?” Arthur whispers as Molly cradles your daughter in her arms.

George and Ginny race back into the living room only to find their mother holding Daisy instead of one of them. George groans as Ginny defeatedly flops on the couch. “Snooze you lose, children,” she teases with a smile and George mimics her before flopping on the couch next to Ginny and Harry. Molly looks back at you and Fred with a big smile. “Well done, you two,” she beams as Fred hugs you from behind, resting his chin on the top of your head. “She’s simply beautiful.”

“Thank you, Molly,” you smile. “So, do you lot want to know her name?” you ask the group, earning a symphony of yes’s and please’s. You look up at Fred who gives you an encouraging nod. With a gulp, you reveal, “Her name is Daisy.” Hermione smiles widely and claps her hands excitedly. “Daisy Ginevra Weasley,” you finish.

Ginny’s eyes widen in shock at the baby’s middle name. It was important to both you and Fred that you had a family name in there besides the surname. You were insistent on giving Daisy Ginny’s name as her middle name. Ginny played a big factor in why you and Fred got together and she was always there for you every step of your relationship. It only seemed right to name your child after her. “You...you named her after me?” Ginny asks in disbelief as you and Fred nod your heads. “Bloody hell,” she whispers with a smile, tears making her eyes glassy, but she pushes them down with a shake of her head. “I don’t know what to say. I...” Ginny searches for the words, but just ends up running over to you and embracing you and Fred in the tightest hug. 

You laugh and give her a squeeze before holding her face in your hands. “You’re my sister, Gin. It only made sense to name our first daughter after someone who means so much to the both of us,” you tell Ginny as she smiles, tears now spilling from her eyes. You wipe away the tears with your thumbs as Fred places a kiss to his sister’s forehead.

Ginny laughs before punching Fred’s arm teasingly. “Merlin, you lot have made me soft,” she wipes her tears with a sniffle, making you and Fred laugh. Molly walks over to her daughter and puts Daisy in her arms as Ginny gasps and holds the baby close to her chest. “Hello, little one,” she whispers as Fred holds you in his arms, smiling wide as he watches his little sister hold his daughter. The sight was enough to make you cry again. The person who had been so influential in you and Fred’s relationship was now holding your first born child. “Reckon you have quite a beautiful middle name, eh?” she laughs before taking a seat next to Harry on the couch.

“Georgina also has a nice ring to it. Daisy Georgina Weasley. It’s not too late, you know,” George tells you and Fred, making you laugh and Ginny give him a dirty look.

“Shut it, you wanker,” she whispers through gritted teeth. 

“Ah, ah, ah! No swearing in front of the baby!” George tsks his sister before looking at you and Fred. “You don’t want a godparent who swears in front of children, now do you?” he continues to push Ginny’s buttons as she rolls her eyes, but continues to coo at Daisy who peels her eyes open and peers up at Ginny.

Fred walks towards George who sits in the living room chair and speaks, “Funny you should mention that. (Y/N) and I have both gone back and forth about this for a long while. And we decided that if anything should happen to either of us, we would want you to raise Daisy, George.” George’s eyes widen in disbelief as he looks back and forth between you and Fred as you smile widely. It was a no brainer deciding who Daisy’s godparent would be. George was the first person to know when you were pregnant, he made sure the joke shoppe could function the same now with Fred as a dad, he baby proofed his flat months in advance for Daisy’s arrival. George would be a great uncle and godfather to your child. “What do you say, Georgie?” Fred asks.

George engulfs Fred in a massive bear hug, making your heart swell as Molly wrapped her arm around you, pulling you into her side. Today was surely one of the best days of your life, watching your family care for this new life with so much love and tenderness. George pulls away from Fred with tears in his eyes, clearing his throat, and speaking, “Of course. Yeah, ‘course I will. If anyone lays a finger on that child consider them dead meat.” Fred laughs and hugs his brother again, the two of them sharing a tender moment.

Ginny rises from the couch and with a smile, passes Daisy over to her godfather and uncle. George holds Daisy with utmost care and carefulness. He carefully sits down and smiles at the small baby in his arms. “Hey, peanut. I’m your Uncle Georgie,” he smiles down at Daisy who yawns and stretches in his arms, pushing off her hospital cap in the process to reveal her tufts of strawberry blonde hair. “Ah, the Weasley signature,” George laughs. “Sorry about that one, (Y/N),” he winks as you laugh, sitting on the couch with Ginny’s legs folded over your lap as she kisses your cheek. “Godric, she’s beautiful, Freddie,” George gushes. “You’re gonna be a heart breaker, kid. Just like your mum before she met your dear old dad. You know it took him three times before she finally said yes to go out with him?”

“Alright, no need to embarrass me in front of my three day old child,” Fred laughs, sitting on the arm of the chair.

The whole lot of you sits in the living room, quite still, watching Daisy as she gets passed around the room, each person interacting with her, cooing at her. When she gets passed around to Ron and Hermione, Ron huffs, “So, Ginny is her namesake, George is her godparent, does that make me the cool uncle?” 

With a laugh, you shake your head, “Absolutely. Every kid needs a cool uncle and aunt.”

Ron smiles, “Wicked.” 

Hermione coos at Daisy, Ron gently brushing her cheek with his forefinger as Daisy yawns widely. “You are a darling,” Hermione blushes to the baby before looking at Ron with pleading eyes.

“Oh, don’t give me that look. I have the daunting job of being cool uncle. Let me get that job done first before we get involved with something else,” he warns as Hermione laughs along with the rest of the group.

You look over to Fred who is already looking at you, love plaguing his eyes as you sigh happily. He smiles at you gently before mouthing an I love you, you reciprocating the action. Everything in this moment felt so right, so perfect.

----------

“You’re coming over for dinner on Wednesday, right?” Ginny confirms with you as Harry helps her into her coat, baby Lily on Ginny’s hip.

Everyone had come over for Sunday dinner at you and Fred’s house, like every other week. But as the years went by, the dinner guest list had changed and adapted to include more people. Harry and Ginny’s first child as well as Ron and Hermione’s first child became a part of the guest list along with Angelina as she was now engaged to George. It was always something to look forward to at the end of the weekend, having family over. Not to mention, Daisy was obsessed with her cousins. 

“Of course. I don’t think Daisy would let us miss it,” you tell Ginny as you kiss Harry and Ginny goodbye. “Dee! Come say goodbye Aunt Gin and Uncle Harry!” you call out to your daughter who is still running around with James, Albus, Rose, and Hugo. 

Daisy, now three years old, whines, “I don’t want to say goodbye, Mummy!” She stomps her foot in protest and folds her arms in protest. Daisy loved every moment she spent with her family which only made you and Fred happier. Family was so important to the two of you and the fact that her best friends where her cousins always warmed your hearts. 

You smiled at your daughter and replied, “I know, darling. But you’ll see everyone again on Wednesday when we visit Aunt Gin and Uncle Harry’s house.”

Ginny chimes in, “And when you come over, I’ll let you wear my quidditch gloves like last time. How does that sound?”

Daisy’s face lights up and she immediately runs over to Ginny and hugs her legs as Ginny scoops her up and peppers her face with kisses as Daisy laughs wildly. Daisy looked up to Ginny. She always told you and Fred how much she wanted to be like her and play quidditch and fly around on a broom and win all of the games. She even started to demand being called by her middle name and not her first name, but you compromised with Daisy Gin.

Ginny places Daisy back down before calling out, “Alright, Potters! Let’s get a move on. You boys both need a bath,” she huffs when she sees chocolate smeared over both of her boy’s faces as they giggle wildly, running to Harry as he scoops up Albus and sets him on his hip. “Maybe if Uncle Fred didn’t let you eat half of the sweets bin, you wouldn’t need a third bath today,” she speaks, ruffling her hands in James’ hair, giving Fred the stink eye.

“Cool uncles let their cool nephews eat a bit of chocolate now and again, isn’t that right, James?” Fred asks, James fist bumping him in response with a wide grin. 

The Potters leave the house with a final round of goodbyes and kisses before Ron and Hermione follow suit, putting on jackets. Hermione bundles Hugo up in his rain boots and rain coat as Rose appears at your feet. “Auntie (Y/N), can Daisy and I have a sleepover again?” she asks, batting her eyes at you with the most devious smile she could conjure up.

Ron rubs his face, “Sweet Merlin, Rose, you are trouble with a capital t.”

You laugh and give Rose a kiss on her forehead, “Of course we can. How about next week you can sleepover here and we can go pancakes in the morning like last time?” Rose’s eyes widen as she and Daisy squeal with excitement. 

“Come on, darling,” Hermione calls over to Rose, holding her hand out for Rose to take. “Thanks again, dinner was delicious, (Y/N),” Hermione kisses your cheek goodbye. 

“Don’t mention it,” you speak. “We’re still on for drinks with Luna on Friday, right?” you ask as she nods excitedly. “Brilliant. That means cool uncle and cool dad are in charge of the kids,” you beam before giving Ron and hug goodbye.

Ron laughs, “Coolest uncle. I’ve been promoted.” You chuckle before waving goodbye to Ron, Hermione, and the kids. This just left George and Angelina which was always the toughest part of the night.

George slips on his coat as Angelina follows, before he calls out. “Alright, my flower,” he speaks. “Hit me with your best one.” He holds out his arms as Daisy giggles, running into his arms and throws her arms around his neck as George picks her up and swings her around, making Daisy squeal. “Oh, Uncle Georgie loves you so much,” he kisses her cheeks before blowing fart noises in her neck, making her laugh even harder. “I’ve got a proposal for you, my darling. How about little Daisy here helps up open up the shop next Saturday? Teach her about the family business?” he tickles her sides as Daisy giggles, Angelina watching her fiancé lovingly as he entertains the child with ease. “What do you say, (Y/N)? Dad will be there to make sure Uncle George doesn’t corrupt the child,” he teases as you roll your eyes.

You sigh and look at your husband and brother in law. “Yeah, alright,” you comply as Daisy cheers while George spins her around in victory. “Only if that means Angie and I get to have a night out on Saturday.”

Angelina laughs in agreement. “Absolutely. And it’s you lot’s treat,” she adds as you smile before giving her a hug and kiss goodbye. “I’ll see you soon, (Y/N). Thank you again for dinner.”

You watch as George dances around with Daisy, her smiling widely. George was a brilliant uncle and godfather. He was always willing to drop anything when you or Fred needed some help with her. Not to mention, he never minded playing babysitter when you and Fred needed a night alone. 

Fred sighed, “Alright, Daisy Gin, time for a bath and bed. You’ve had a long day.”

“No!” she protests, wrapping her arms tighter around George’s neck, pressing her cheek against his as George laughs. 

Fred pretends to gasp, “What do you mean no?”

“Uncle Georgie stays with me!” she demands. “And Auntie Angie!” 

Fred’s heart swells at how much his young daughter loved his twin and his soon to be wife. “I know you want them to stay, my petal, but it’s time for bed. Besides, we’ll see Uncle George and Auntie Angie on Wednesday,” he tells your three year old as she pouts.

George speaks, “Hey, don’t be upset. That’s very soon. And besides, next time I see you, I’ll have a surprise...” This makes Daisy’s eyes light up with joy and clap her hands. “I’ll see you soon, okay? I love you bunches.”

“Love you,” Daisy smiles in her tiny voice as George places a kiss to her cheek, Angelina placing another kiss to her opposite cheek, making Daisy giggle. Daisy is handed off to Fred as the last couple leaves with another round of hugs and kisses.

“Get home safe! And be careful on the roads! It’s supposed to storm tonight!” Fred calls out as George and Angelina hop into their car with another wave. Fred closes the door with a sigh. Now it was just you, him, and Daisy. “Alright, you,” he teases Daisy who smiles. “I think it’s time for you to take a bath,” he scoops your daughter up into his arms, taking one of her bare feet in his hand, lifting it up to his nose. He feigns disgust. “Those stink, Daisy Gin!” he exclaims as Daisy giggles. “Mummy, we’ve got a 2342! Stinky feet!”

You gasp, “A 2342?!” Daisy laughs louder. “Get her in the bath! Stat!”

With that, Fred runs up the stairs and to the bathroom as Daisy shrieks with delight as you can’t help but chuckle. Even the simplest things Fred made fun. Each day with Fred as the father of your child was an adventure. He made the simple days extraordinary and the extraordinary days out of this world. He was the center of Daisy’s world; that baby girl loved her father more than anything. Sometimes it made you a little jealous, how much she adored Fred, but you couldn’t stay mad for too long. It was just so damned adorable how she stared up at Fred with so much idolization. 

From your bedroom, you could hear Fred and Daisy sing nursery rhymes in the bath, Fred doing silly voices which only made Daisy giggle. The sang, they counted, talked about animals, and colors. Each babbling conversation made your heart swell with love. 

“Mummy!” you hear Daisy call from her bedroom. 

“Coming, my peanut!” 

You walked down the hall and into Daisy’s room, decorated in white and yellow flowers on the walls with a bookcase filled with books and toys, and her small bed with sheets adorned with Holyhead Harpies sheets as per Daisy’s request. She sat on the bed, wrapped in her towel, waiting for you to change her into pajamas. It was your favorite part of the day.

You smiled at your daughter with freshly washed hair, wrapped in a green towel. “There’s my flower,” you smiled as Daisy kicked her legs excitedly. “What pajamas are we wearing tonight? Your Harpies pajamas are in the wash, but you have your daisy pajamas from Uncle Neville and your rainbow pajamas from Auntie Luna.” Daisy thinks for a moment before requesting her daisy pajamas from Neville. 

As you change your daughter into fresh pajamas, you listen to her babble about how much fun she had with her cousins and how she couldn’t wait for Wednesday. You smiled to yourself, still wondering how you were so lucky to get the sweetest, most darling little girl in the world as your daughter. You brushed her hair gently before plaiting her red hair that matched Fred’s into two pigtail plaits. Daisy smiled at herself in the mirror as you peppered her right cheek with kisses making her giggle. “I love you, Daisy Gin,” you tell her.

“I love you, Mummy,” she bats her eyelashes, looking up at you with those big chocolate brown eyes that so resembled Fred’s. All of Daisy reminded you of Fred. From her hair to her eyes to the way she spoke, it was all so Fred which only made you love your little tike more fiercely. 

You carried her back to bed, tucking her in her sheets before calling out for Fred. Within seconds, Fred appeared with a smile on his face. “Bedtime for my princess,” he smiles before kneeling next to you at her bedside. “Goodnight, my baby,” he kisses her forehead as Daisy closes her eyes with a smile.

“I’m not a baby!” she protests. “I’m a big girl! Like Auntie Ginny!” 

Fred smiles as you laugh. “Oh, pardon me! Goodnight, my big girl,” he corrects himself as you lean over and give your baby a kiss on the forehead. 

You run your finger through the loose strands of hair that are wispy around her face. “Sweet dreams, my girl,” you speak softly.

“Goodnight, Mummy,” she speaks sweetly, enough to make your heart burst. “Goodnight, Daddy,” she coos at Fred who smiles.

The two of you shut the lights and shut the door gently. You and Fred make your way into your bedroom, getting ready for bed yourselves. As Fred shuts the door behind him, you feel his arms wrap around your waist as you sigh. He presses a trial of kisses up your neck as you smile. “She’s getting so big,” you whine, turning around and facing Fred. He places a chaste kiss to your lips.

Fred sighs. It was true. Daisy was growing up way too fast for your liking. It was exciting, watching her become her own person. But at the same time, you loved her at this age. How small and confident she was. How she thought she was so in control. It was adorable. “I don’t like thinking about it too much,” he confesses. “But...” he trails off before starting to unbutton the buttons of your shirt. “We could prevent that...if we had another...” he suggests as you smirk. “It’s been nearly three years. Don’t you think we deserve another one?” he wiggles his eyebrows. “Another baby to keep Daisy company...”

You shake your head, “Fred Weasley, you are relentless.” You press a kiss to his lips and Fred deepens it, kissing you slowly and tenderly as you gently moan into his mouth. He smirks as he pushes the shirt you wear off your body. Quickly pulling away, you look at him. “Are you sure she’s asleep already? I don’t need our daughter walking in on a situation neither of us want to explain to a three year old,” you tell him.

Fred huffs before kissing you again, mumbling against your lips. “I’m sure.” You give him a knowing look as he groans, “Fine. I’ll lock the door. But you better get your ass in that bed.”

You giggle as Fred runs to the door, locking it as you crawl into the bed, a little too excited.

----------

A few hours later, you and Fred are fast asleep, Fred shirtless, arm draped around your torso as you wear his shirt to sleep. The sounds of rain hitting the window sound through the master bedroom, the occasional rumble of thunder here and there. To you and Fred, the rain always helped you sleep, but the youngest Weasley disagreed.

Slowly, the bedroom door creaked open further. She held onto her hippogriff plushie tightly, eyes full of worry. “Mummy?” she quietly asked into the room as you stirred in your sleep, slowly recognizing the voice. “Mummy? Daddy?” she called out again.

You woke up, sitting up straight to see your baby girl standing in the door way, fear in her eyes as she clung onto her plushie. Thunder rumbled outside as Daisy gasped, scared of the noise. “Daisy? Baby, what’s wrong, petal?” you asks, sleep laced in your voice.

She ran to the side of the bed as lightning flashed, you scooping her up in your arms as she held onto you tight, shivering lightly. Sadness coursed through your body as you realized your baby was afraid of the storm that was outside. “Aw, my flower,” you cooed as you rocked her back and forth, her sniffling into your chest. “It’s okay, my love,” you speak, kissing her head.

Fred rubs his eyes and realizing that his daughter was crying into his wife’s chest. Panic rises in Fred’s voice, “Is she alright? Do I need to call a Healer? Muggle doctor?” 

You shake your head no. “Our little Daisy Gin is afraid of the storm,” you whisper to Fred who nods his head. “It’s alright, baby. Mummy and Daddy are here,” you flip yourself around so Daisy can see her father. “See? We’re here, petal. Everything is alright.”

Daisy sniffles as she looks at Fred and gives him a timid wave. Fred smiles sadly at his princess and speaks, “Hello, flower. The rain woke you up, huh?” Daisy nods her head. “Bloody rain. Should I yell at the rain? And tell it to stop bothering us?” he asks, still groggy, but you can hear the smile in his voice.

Daisy giggles and nods her head as Fred rises from the bed and walks over to the window, opening it up mid-storm despite your protests. He sticks his head out of the window and screams out, “Hey! Rain! Go away!” 

Your daughter laughs madly in your arms as you can’t help but chuckle. Surely the neighbors think you have lost your minds. Fred shuts the window and climbs back into bed as you and Daisy’s laughter fades. However, the laughter is replaced with another shriek from Daisy as lightning strikes and thunder rumbles. She retreats further into your chest as you rub her back, kissing her head. 

An idea pops into Fred’s head as he opens his arms for Daisy to curl into. He clears his throat and starts, “I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day. When it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May.” Your heart instantly melts at the sound of Fred singing to your daughter like he did the day she was born in the hospital three years ago. “I guess you’d say what can make me feel this way, my girl,” he sings as he looks to you to join him.

“Talkin’ ‘bout my girl,” you join Fred as the three of you lay in the bed, Daisy cuddled in between the two of you, her sniffles fading. You continue to sing until her eyes start to flutter close and her mouth emits small snores. Slowly, you fade out as she is soundly asleep. Fred brushes his little girl’s hair out of her face with a soft smile. You are too occupied looking at Fred and how he stares at your daughter, your heart racing. As if he couldn’t be a better dad.

Fred looks at you with a smile. “I love you,” you tell him with a small shake of your head. “I love you so much.”

“I love you so much more, my dear,” he speaks before placing a kiss on the tip of your nose. “You’re my world. The two of you complete me. My girls.”

With that, you and Fred cuddle up to your sleeping daughter, falling asleep to the sounds of the rain.

[signedaiko]

Hello! Can i request a TFP Predaking whith a human s/o that is allways kind to him but is also friends whith the autobots? (The other decepticons dont know abaut it of course)

Also i really love your writing and hope you have a good day!

My Heart Has Wings [Predaking x Reader]

Reader is Human Feminine | Prime Based

Recommended Song - So This Is Love w/fireplace ambiance

There was something so strange about you. The good kind of strange. Predaking didn't see many humans, but he could tell my the fact that you were always alone that you didn't exactly fit in that much. And aren't humans supposed to be sociable creatures? You were very social to him at the very least. Every flight out he always found you in the same place; the deepest nook of a pine forest at a small cabin. He had arrived at your home, but you and your truck were nowhere to be seen. He gladly took to hiding in the brush, hoping to give you a small startle when you came back. What he had not anticipated, was the sound of 3 engines approaching. ~~~~~~~~~ I was just finishing packing my groceries for the week into the back of my vehicle, clicking my seatbelt in place while the truck started up. It was boiling inside due to the naturally bright and aggressive sun that loomed over the sky, so I happily let all the windows down to let the rushing air in. It was a pretty long drive to home, but this was the nearest town to me so it was that or nothing. I pulled off the paved road onto a long winding gravel one, and soon another turn onto a barely existent dirt path. Most of the drive was just back roads and it got pretty bori- BEEP BEEP I nearly jumped out of my seat when two cars came racing past me on each side, blowing dust into my windows, I reluctantly pulled over, coughing all the dirt that just flew into my mouth. "What the hell?!" I yelled out, wasting as the dust settled. A yellow and black Urbana 500 and...A yellow and blue Lotus Exige. It was just Bee and Smokescreen, I mean of course it was! Who else would be out here. It was pretty close to their base anyways. I watched as they transformed, cocking my hip to the right. "Sorry y/n!" Smokescreen smacked bee's shoulder lightly, "We just wanted to see you. Didn't expect you to have your windows down." "On a hot day like this? My air conditioner is broken, so I didn't have a choice." You explained, walking back over to the trick and opening the door. "Wait! Can we come with you? I am just dying sitting around in base today." He was back to pleading once more, and I couldn't help but sigh in defeat when Bee vocalized contently. Next thing I knew, I was racing down the roads as the other two swerved around, chasing one another and having their fun. It only took another hour to get home, and by then the ground had gone from sand to coarse dirt and looming pines. Slowing our speed, we managed to pull up to my cabin, and I propped the tailgate open to retrieve my purchases. The other two finally arrived, each revving up behind me. From the trees across from the river in front of my cabin, I could have sworn I saw something yellow whizz by. "You okay, y/n?" I shook my head, turning to the other two while the dots all connected. I couldn't let them find out he was here! And vice versa. "Yeah! Uh- You guys can go ahead home now, I'm sure the others are worried about you!" "But we just-" "You asked for a ride, not to hang out, now shoo!" You ushered them, and Bee was the first to leave, reluctantly followed by Smokescreen. 'Thank goodness' I sighed, picking up my groceries again. Had they put up a fight it might not of ended too great. A thundering stomp shook me, causing me to stumble back. A huff of hair then blew all my hair back with a rush. Someone didn't seem all too happy. ROOOAAAAAAAAAAR ~~~~~~~~~ Setting down in my usual place on a log, I let myself relax from all that grocery carrying and judgmental stares from a whole ass dragon. There was an unbroken tension that sat in the air. "Predaking, I-" "You are with the enemy!" Sigh. He was more upset than I had originally anticipated, and it burned me to think that I had hurt him. The fire I made was roaring to life, illuminating me and parts of the large predacon as the sun slowly dissipated. I wasn't sure how to explain myself, I knew he wouldn't hurt me but.. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to protect you." it sounded stupid, I mean he could handle anything, "I thought that

if I could befriend them, they could meet you one day and we could save you from the 'cons." "Y/n," he had long since transformed into his mech form, and he plucked me up into his servo's, "They still have the others, I could not abandon my own kind." 'I know'

I wanted to say, but I knew I wouldn't fully understand. His yellow optics stared at me intently, and I eventually lowered my head in defeat. He eventually lowered me back down, and I listened carefully to my record player playing from the open window as the next song came on. "I'll figure it out, my dear." His voice was low now, and I couldn't help but lean onto his side for comfort. I wished there was more we could do. As the war went on between the two sides, the less I got to see him. It was hard to enjoy the peace when it was overshadowed by so many of my troubles. His servo slowly rubbed my back in a comforting manor, all the while I traced small nothings along his plating. " I love you, 'King" I whispered, staring into the mesmerizing flame before us both. "I love you too." His voice had changed plenty from when he last spoke, and it seemed you were both over such a busy day. It was about time he went home, but I didn't want him to go. He nuzzled into me for the last time of the night, walking towards the rivers clearing where he could safely transform. He looked back once, and I couldn't help but smile and wave. The gust of wind as he took off put out the fire in an instant, and the whole forest shuttered. I couldn't wait to see him again.

---------------- Authors Note - I assumed this to be a one shot as there was no stated format, and because no one is requesting any and I'm itching to write one!!

Word Count - 1,119

[narrans]

A Tall and Small Collection | S2.23 | Making a Musician

Ashlynn was absolutely jittering with excitement. How could she be so silly? It had been around for years! How come she only just heard about it? This was going to be the greatest thing ever, especially for Dorian.

Ashlynn hurried into her apartment and pried her shoes off of her feet and left them at the front door. By the sound of it, Dorian was playing music on the counter, singing at the top of his lugs.

Maybe it was Ashlynn’s fondness of the Borrower family, but in her opinion Dorian had true talent. Now that they were mending fences, Ashlynn felt like she could step up and help him reach his full potential. It was possibly a risk, and maybe she should’ve talked to Soren about it first, but she was too excited to care. At the very least, she needed to show this to Dorian.

“I’m home!” she called. “Dorian? You there?” Ashlynn threw her bag onto the couch, making sure it was safe to do so, and fished her phone from her purse, practically skipping to the kitchen when the device was in her hand. The teenage Borrower was standing on the kitchen counter, song just ending, and instinctually turned and looked up in the direction of Ashlynn’s voice.

“Hey,” he said with a smile. “Welcome back. Is… everything okay?”

“Yeah,” said Ashlynn eagerly. “More than great actually.”

“Big news? Should I grab Soren and Rey? Well, maybe just Rey. Soren still might be out. You look like you’re getting ready to burst,” said Dorian, seeing the light in Ashlynn’s eyes. She was obviously eager to share whatever it was.

“Well, yes and no. It’s mostly news for you. Well… less of news and more of a surprise. A surprise for you! Well…” Ashlynn sputtered and tripped over her words, making Dorian chuckle. “Here. I’ll just show you.” Ashlynn stepped up to the counter and swiped open her phone before clicking on an app she didn’t know existed – Garage Band.

Ashlynn propped up her phone against the wall and let the program load. Dorian watched Ashlynn excitedly tap away at the screen and adjust it so that he could clearly see the device which was almost as tall as he was while laying on its side. He wasn’t sure wat had her so worked up, but he was curious enough to walk across the counter and find out. He hadn’t seen Ashlynn this excited about something in a while.

“Okay, I didn’t really know what I was doing, but I played around with it after one of my co-workers showed this to me on his phone,” said Ashlynn. Dorian, still confused, hoped some useful information would be on the screen. There were loads of boxes with names like “test” and “curtain call.” It wasn’t until Ashlynn clicked on “test” and hit the play button that he realized what it was.

It was a music app.

Ashlynn hit the play button at the top of the screen and the song started. It was pretty simple. There was a drum sequence that was pretty repetitive and a piano and guitar duo. He listened to the music and ran it through his song repertoire. He didn’t recognize it.

“What song is this?” he asked after it ended abruptly. “Is this what you’re so excited about?”

“You’ll be excited about it in a second,” said Ashlynn. “I wrote it.”

“What?” he asked. “You… play? How? You were at work.”

“No, not at all,” said Ashlynn. “This app lets you write music.”

Dorian’s confusion instantly melted into pure excitement.

“What? How?” he asked, now eagerly facing the device wondering how to work it.

“Super easy,” said Ashlynn. She proceeded to click a few buttons and gave Dorian a quick rundown tutorial of what she understood about the app. Things like how to change the speed – tempo – of the instruments as well as how to change the key the instruments played in. She even showed him how to add tracks for multiple instruments.

“And, get this,” said Ashlynn as she whisked herself out of the kitchen to go into the living area only to return a few seconds later with some kind of corded device that looked like headphones, but the end looked a little different.

Dorian frankly could care less about what the device was because he was shaking with excitement from the program app thing Ashlynn just showed him.

Finally – something he could use to write his own music. He’d written plenty of lyrics and songs, but never to actual music with instruments playing. His size finally wouldn’t keep him from living his dream!

Well…

Mostly…

“Okay! It’s all set,” said Ashlynn as she pushed the little knobby end of the headphone into the headphone jack.

“What’s set?” asked Dorian just as Ashlynn held the weird mesh end up to him, his self-pitying thoughts taking a back seat to this new setup.

“It’s a microphone,” said Ashlynn. “It’s a small mic that is more sensitive, so it’ll make the sound better quality than normal headphone microphones.”

Dorian’s jaw dropped.

“What? A real one?” he asked. The end was still relatively large like the end of a headphone which took both of his hands to hold up It was about the length of his arm and the end was a bit bulky. Still, it was incredible.

“Yeah, all real. We’ll need to get it set up on a stand or something, but you can sing into it and record your songs,” said Ashlynn, her smile radiating warmth and excitement.

At this, Dorian felt those thoughts come back into his head. His shoulders slumped – and Ashlynn noticed instantly.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?” asked Ashlynn.

“No… it’s… it’s perfect… It’s just.. no… no one will… hear it…” muttered Dorian, disappointment encasing his voice, speaking in between heaving sighs to keep himself composed. “Record, yes, but what good is it if no one can listen to it? Music is meant to be shared, and… like everything about us… it has to be kept a secret.”

Disheartened, Dorian looked at the screen and pressed a couple of buttons, letting the guitar play its set loop over and over.

Ashlynn bit her lip in obvious agreement. It was certainly a problem – especially if Dorian wanted to share his music. Being a Borrower with a very “human” interest was a challenge. He wanted to share his talent, and rightfully so, but it was risky for him to publish.

Or was it…

Ashlynn knew it would be a risk and tried thinking through the potentials and, thankfully, she had a few ideas. She just had to show Dorian her vision. It was a risk, but it felt like it was worth it.

“There might be a way, Dorian,” said Ashlynn. Dorian half scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Yeah right. Unless you can make me grow or be human, it doesn’t matter. My music isn’t going to see the light of day without revealing our kind. It’s just a fact.”

She reached past Dorian and exited out of the app and then opened her camera.

“Dorian, look at the camera and tell me who is bigger,” said Ashlynn as she tilted the phone to have them both in frame. Dorian rubbed the side of his neck, looking dejected, and sighed.

“Is this a trick? Obviously you are,” said Dorian as he caught how he looked in the camera.

“No trick. Now,” Ashlynn said as she took a step back, leaving Dorian in the forefront of the camera while she was in the background. “Who is bigger now?” Dorian watched her instead of the camera, folding his arms defensively.

“Ashlynn, you just stepped backward. It doesn’t make me any less small,” said Dorian.

“You sure? Look at the camera again,” directed Ashlynn, eyes urging him on. Dorian was about to rill his eyes when he caught a glimpse of the point Ashlynn was trying to prove. With him standing closer to the camera, he and Ashlynn looked to be about the same height. The image was slightly blurry, but the picture didn’t lie.

“But… that…”

“It’s perspective. The camera doesn’t know the difference between our heights – and neither will anyone else unless you tell them. Look,” said Ashlynn as she stepped back up to the counter and leaned over, picking up her phone with one hand and habitually laying the other palm up just behind Dorian. As her thumb typed feverishly, Dorian took a few steps back and sat against Ashlynn’s upturned palm.

The Borrower teen’s mind was still reeling from what he just saw from the camera lens. He hadn’t thought about it like that before – that perspective could change his size.

“Here, Dorian, what do you see?” asked Ashlynn as she carefully lifted the hand Dorian was sitting in and brought it by her chest so Dorian could see the phone from her perspective. Dorian readjusted so he sat in the palm of her hand cross-legged rather than legs dangling off the leg and hooked his arm around her thumb.

The screen was filled with song after song, but something Dorian noticed after a minute of Ashlynn scrolling was that they all had different doodles set as a profile picture, not an actual photo, and silly or obscure usernames. Only a few had their own name on their profile.

“No one knows these users. They’re just content creators – anonymous musicians,” said Ashlynn. “And you could be one of them. Dorian, you can get your music out there and no one needs to know who you are. They’ll only know what you show.”

Dorian was absolutely speechless.

Mind blown and short circuiting. He hadn’t thought about it like this. He thought humans always found out about people who tried to keep things a secret. They were curious after all. He didn’t know how to even come close to describing how he felt.

His heart was fluttering in his chest nervously. His entire body felt electrified with excitement. His breath shook as he inhaled and exhaled, ears ringing slightly.

Ashlynn continued speaking.

“Dorian, we can do this for you. WE can get it all set up before you go back ho… Dorian? You okay?” Ashlynn looked down to her palm to see Dorian visibly shaking. Her heart sank. Was he having doubts? Did he not think he was good enough? Whatever the reason, she needed to make this right.

“Hey… hey, I’m… I’m sorry.” Ashlynn set down her phone and curled her fingers slightly around Dorian’s form as she reached up with her other hand and began stroking the teenage Borrower’s back lightly. “Dorian, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you or press. I just thought…”

Dorian spun around, still seated, and threw his arms around the thumb she was using to stroke his back, squeezing with all his might. For several seconds, Ashlynn let Dorian shake. Initially, her heart sank, worried she had gone to far. It wasn’t until he looked up into her blue-grey eyes that she could see that it wasn’t fear or him being upset.

He was excited. All she saw in his pale blue eyes of her miniature musician was pure, overwhelmed excitement.

“Thank you, Ashlynn. I… don’t even know what to say. I… thank you,” said Dorian. He drew his legs closer into a full body hug of her thumb. Ashlynn’s heart, absolutely gushing over the teen, could only breathe a sigh of relief and smile. Since their talk, things had gone beyond smooth between them, like they had never parted. Thick as thieves once again, they eventually retreated to the couch in the living room to decide usernames and passwords.

Ashlynn and Dorian both decided that as long as they kept Soren in the loop and he hand no major qualms with it, Dorian could start publishing his music instantly.

They constructed a few names Dorian liked that were a play off of his name, such as So-Do-Rian, but ultimately thinking that Dorian Walker, as in wall walker to honor him as a Borrower, would probably be best. It also sounded like a “human” name, which would keep suspicion to a minimum if the question ever arose.

While they talked, Dorian kept clearing his throat. Was it emotion? He didn’t think so. For the past few days, he couldn’t quite shake a little cough in the back of his throat.

The entire Borrower family had a cough the past few days actually… as had the entire Borrower colony.

And while Dorian and Ashlynn sat on the couch picking out names to hide Dorian’s “secret identity” online, Rey was rushing through the walls to the secure line in the kitchen – with a feverish and coughing Mayzie on his back.

Rey had seen this before…

And he was scared…

Mayzie was slumped over in her pack which was firmly secured on Rey’s back.

Soren hadn’t made it back yet.

Mayzie whimpered as Rey grabbed hold of the line and slid down as fast as possible.

Hopefully, Ashlynn would know what to do. She had to know.

Little did he know this was a sad sign of things to come…

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue

Previous

A Tall and Small Collection

ASK ME ANYTHING

[obey-me-rot]

You Shouldn't Be This Cool

A/N: Something purely self indulgent to kickstart this Obey Me writing blog. The idea mostly belongs to @warm-meelk because of how they drew their MC playing bass and then sprinkled in the fact that Levi would be the pianist and I just kinda...went from there q wq. And I also play bass so...all the more reason to write this!

Warnings: Levi trying to justify some of his more weird actions while MC seems to not only know...but enjoy the attention.

Levi wasn’t a creep, he was passionate.

He was passionate about TSL, he was passionate about anime, he was passionate about his idol groups and he was even passionate about learning new skills in order to better evolve himself into an ultimate fan.

So what he did today was not because he was a creep!

It was because he was passionate.

“Can you play that for me again, Levi?”

The third born tucks his feet on his chair, sipping up the noodles of his second cup of ramen as he watches the video feed from this afternoon. He smiles as the camera zooms in on your fingers, each one plucking the string of your bass absentmindedly while you listen to the melody he had composed.

As a TSL fan, he was ‘in the know’ of most TSL fan events whether they were held in the Devildom or in the human world. If they were worth the trouble he would attend and if it seemed like it was just a repeat fan event for one he already attended then he would just get the merch from the safety and comfort of his room.

Yet a completely new fan event had popped up on his radar one day, an online one.

One that challenged each and every TSL fan to create a song dedicated to their favourite lord.

Levi doesn’t remember much after that announcement, all he remembers is knocking on your door at devil knows what hours of the morning and shoving the music sheets in your face while pleading for you to help him out.

Your musical talent wasn’t hidden in the House of Lamentation. While most of the brothers could boast about having pretty decent singing voices or being ‘okay’ at certain instruments, your ‘weapon’ of choice was perhaps the most random but also well fitted instrument for someone like you.

You played the bass.

If he wanted to get specific, you played the TCB1006 Ibanez electric bass. You had mentioned in passing when you and him had met up to start ‘jamming’ out and Levi had retained that fact along with his hundreds of other facts that had to do with your particular interests and likes.

Again, because he was passionate...about your friendship.

The camera zooms out to film both of you, a happy giggle taking him over as he saw just how chill you looked.

How unfair was it that out of all the instruments you could play, you had to play the one that just made you look even cooler?

You were laying in his tub while he sat on the very chair he was sitting on now, plucking strings seemingly at random but humming some bars and trying to fit them with his melody. Your feet were propped up on the edge and the soft brown color of the guitar meshed so well with the glowing blue lights of his room that he is so glad he picked this spot for his hidden camera because you looked ethereal.

“I still can’t believe you composed this. It’s pro-level.”

“H--Ha! Of course! This is nothing but a piece of cake for me! If it's about the Third Lord and Henry then I’m all over it!”

Eyes take in the way you sit up and position your bass higher, fingers having a better reach as you start to ‘slap’ the strings in order to create a more wavy and deeper sound.

“Okay...I think I got it. Can you play the melody from the beginning?”

Oh here it was.

Sitting up, Levi puts his cup noodle down and grabs the nearby music sheets, pen already in hand as his attention on you becomes laser focused.

The beat you play is, well, playful. It is a high contrast to his almost operatic piano melody and he could almost hear himself playing a bit slower as if wondering if you had even heard what he was playing

“Uh MC…?"

“Trust me.”

Levi bites his lip as he feels his heart skip a beat, not even having to look at the screen to see that he was blushing. His past self was so predictable…

Although wasn’t his present self all the more pathetic for reacting to your words a second time?

He’d rather not think about it too much.

Your purpose had come shining through the moment Levi started to really hear the notes you were playing. It was almost as if you were mimicking Henry’s character with the bass. Cool, collected and eager to learn more about the world he had been thrusted into, your bass managed to capture the curiosity of Henry’s while his piano clearly symbolized the shy but deadly Third Lord.

The bass would go high, the piano would go low but as the melody started to harmonize so did the way your playing did with his. It was if he was the Third Lord, shyly peeking at the way Henry interacted with the world around them…

Only to turn around and invite him to join along.

His eyes go up to the screen.

You looked so happy, your fingers plucking away as he continued playing along with you. Your eyes turn to look at him and he almost wants to punch his past self in the face for not looking back. The camera had been perfectly placed to capture the way you tilt your head as you stare at him, chuckling as he clearly gets far too into the music for his own good.

To miss such an exclusive UR moment from you, he should be ashamed of himself.

“Haha. Thank the devil I came up with this camera idea!”

Levi blinks as he looks around, coming face to face with his beloved Henry as the fish stares at him from his bowl.

“...don’t look at me like that, Henry…”

The fish blinks.

“I wasn’t doing it to be a creep! I just wanted to write down the notes MC played before I forgot them.”

Henry’s mouth opens and then closes.

“And see! I even missed such exclusive moments from them! Look!”

He pauses the video and turns the screen so his fish can take a better look.

“5:06. I even timestamped it. Right here, MC is smiling and looking at me so cutely that it would be almost a sin to not record it!”

His fingers tap a couple of keys as he goes back to another point of the video.

“3:58, they smile and do such a cool trick with their fingers that I didn’t even notice that they stick their tongue out whenever they get too into playing! Do you see that Henry?”

A couple more taps as he keeps the video playing, the goldfish swims close to the edge of the bowl.

“I missed so many great moments all because I was so lost in playing! And I just didn’t want to ask them if I could record them because then they might think I’m using the footage for some sort of weird purpose and I would never do something like that to them! My Henry is far too amazing for me to just watch them one time! I just wanted to make sure of the notes they were playing! This is all for passion--!”

“Levi?”

He stops talking as he looks back at the screen, Henry swimming away while Levi tuned into the video once again.

“Was that good? I don’t know why but having the bass go a bit higher as I mute the strings feels almost like--”

“Like a conversation! It’s like the instruments are talking!”

Okay maybe this camera idea wasn’t the greatest after all, that was such a stupid thing to say and if he could go back and just slap the words out of his very mouch, he would.

Yet once again, his MC showed just why they were at the top of their ‘favourites’ list.

“Yeah! Like a convo!”

The conversation dissolves into randomness as Levi sighs and looks down at his sheet music. He only got a few notes down. Devildom, what was the point of having perfect pitch if he didn’t use it all the time? He straightens his screen out as he grabs a pencil instead of a pen, knowing full well that if he wanted to get this done he would have to rely on listening to you play and not looking at the screen.

If he finished this quickly then he would be able to stare at yo--it...he would be able to stare at it the rest of the night.

He goes to rewind the video but stops when he notices the scenery has changed just a tiny bit. You were out of his bathtub and looking at his aquarium, tapping the wall twice as some of his other fishes came up to greet you.

They were already so accustomed to you that he was sure even Lotan would know who you were.

Your attention goes from his aquarium wall to his computer, looking at all of his figurines and other merch he proudly showed off. A few more steps to the right and you were looking at his bookshelf--

Only for your eyes to lock with his.

He rolls his chair back immediately, his heart dropping to his feet as you reach out to the camera and pluck it from its hiding place.

No. No no no nononononononono!

This was it. You were done with him. Levi didn’t have a lot of friends but he knew that this was probably a friendship ender. His pupils contract as he sees you look at the camera with a confused look, already guessing your thoughts before you could vocalize them.

This weirdo was filming me the entire time. And he was hiding the camera? Disgusting. I’ll make sure to never come by his place again. What an absolute creep.

“MC...I didn’t--”

His jaw clicks shut as small tears gather at the corners of his eyes, not yet falling down his cheeks as he sees you smile and wave at the camera.

What--?

“Levi. If you wanted to film you didn’t really have to hide it. I want something to remember this session too. Next time you can just ask~”

You wink and Levi can feel his heart going from the floor all the way to his throat.

“Oh and send me a text when you have the footage ready. We can watch it together.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding as you place the camera back before his voice rings out from the video, exclaiming about all the snacks he had brought. So that’s why he had found you standing up, and here he thought you were leaving…

Send you a text...the footage…?

His hands scramble to his phone as he quickly enters the passcode, blushing as he sees a new message from you.

“Mind if I come over again? I have a new bassline I want to show off.”

Levi puts the phone down slowly before getting up---

Only to immediately fall down, hands over his face as he curled up on the floor.

Of all the characters he thought he would be in a shoujo, the last one he thought he would end up as is the heroine.

Not that he was regretting it, this was perhaps the best outcome that had happened in his now not so miserable life.

[honeytae]

if you’re open for regular requests i’d love to request lil scenarios of the boys learning english alongside their english-speaking s/o! this is totally self-indulgent i’m doing the TEFL program and i’m going to south korea next year to teach :)

first of all, that’s amazing omg!! congratulations my love, i hope you have the best time over there and please don’t be shy in sharing your stories with us!!! i tried to stick to the boys actually learning english with their s/o but i strayed from that with a few members just bc i ran out of ideas lol but i hope you still enjoy!

fair warning....i’ve never ~seriously~ tried to learn korean, so i’m not entirely certain of the parallels between korean and english. i just hope these are wholesome enough to override that lmao

namjoon:

“You know,” Namjoon looked up from his phone, “I understand expanding your vocabulary, but why are there so many weird slang words?”

“Kids these days?” You shrugged, the man chuckling in response before flipping his phone around to show you what had puzzled him.

“If something slaps, that’s...good?” He wondered, watching as you suppressed a smile at the tweet he was showing you.

You could tell by the profile picture that the user was an ARMY, one of the many fan profiles on the platform, and the tweet was written completely in English.

Although there was a ‘Translate to Korean’ option readily available with just a tap of his thumb, you knew Namjoon never missed an opportunity to challenge himself to be able to fully comprehend what a native English speaker was trying to say.

You nearly snorted at the tweet’s content, smiling as you read it out loud.

“The Dis-ease bridge just saved my life. Seriously, this song slaps.”

Glancing at Namjoon, he raised his eyebrows, eagerly waiting for you to translate and explain what that could equate to in Korean.

“It’s definitely a good thing, Joon. They love it.”

At your interpretation, Namjoon grinned, nodding to himself as he pulled his phone back in front of his face to scroll through more reaction tweets to the new album release.

seokjin:

“What the hell is that?”

You picked your head up from your sketchbook when you heard Seokjin whine from beside you, eyebrows knitting together at his distressed tone. Taking a glance over at his laptop screen, you found his mouse bouncing from letter to letter on one of his weekly english lessons.

“What is that, like 15 letters? How do you even use that in a sentence?” He went on, obviously flustered by the word on the screen.

Pulchritudinous.

You placed your hand over his to stop his panicked counting of the letters, causing him to look over at you with a sigh as he frowned.

You nearly giggled at his reaction, but the genuine fear in his eyes made you stifle it as you soothingly held his hands in yours. 

“It’s just an over complicated way of saying beautiful. I don’t know why they’re teaching you that, nobody ever uses it.” You assured him, his eyes going down in size a bit at your words before he nodded.

Watching as a smirk tilted his lips, you raised your brows at the sudden expression.

“What?”

“Well like, I could say I’m...that?” He said, eyebrows raised cockily as he gestured to the long word stretched across the screen.

“Well it’s actually not used like,” you paused, giving in with a shrug as you grinned back at him.

“Sure, love.”

yoongi:

“Why did I skip English class all the time?” Yoongi sighed, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers as he plucked at the skin in frustration.

“Because you were trying to be a rebel.” You answered without looking up from your phone, the man obviously not liking your answer as he reached over to where you were laying beside him to pinch at your hip.

Yelping, you scooted across the mattress to get away from his hand, whining his name with a scoff before looking over at his notepad.

“What are you doing, anyway?” You asked, leaning on your palm as you scanned the rows of scribbled English letters written on the page.

“I’m trying to get better at writing.” He admitted shyly, a small grin on his face to match the fond one on your own. 

“Aw,” you pouted, Yoongi raising his eyebrows at your tone, “but I like your chicken scratch.”

“You’re such a brat.” He chuckled, adjusting the velcro on his brace with a grunt.

Since Yoongi’s shoulder surgery took away obvious straining activities like dancing and performing, he’d turned to studying English from the comfort of your bed during his recovery as one of the only safe activities he could partake in for a while.

It was now one of his favorite past times, learning new words and phrases he could potentially use in the future. It worked for you both because it took his mind off the pain and kept him motivated, and since you could speak both his and your language, you could help him out whenever he got stuck on something.

Usually he did lessons verbally on his phone, but it seemed today he had taken the old fashioned route.

“Your handwriting really isn’t bad, Yoongs.” You observed, the carefully placed tails at the end of each ‘a’ making you smile out of fondness for the man.

“My man has the prettiest handwriting.” You cooed, pushing a strand of his stark black hair out of his eyes as he blushed down at his notebook.

“Stop that.”

hoseok:

“Hey, babe?” Hoseok called for you, listening to your footsteps growing closer before you popped your head into the kitchen doorway.

“Yeah?”

“I’m having a little trouble.” He gestured to his open laptop on the counter, you recognizing it as an assignment from his English course.

“What happened?”

“Pronouns. Pronouns happened.” He pouted, his disdain for the new chapter quite obvious as he stared down his computer screen.

“What about them?” You asked, stepping closer to the man sitting at the kitchen island and placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“I need to make ten sentences using proper pronouns and I feel like I’m doing it all wrong.” He explained, causing you to hum as you looked over his sentences.

“These look great, Hobi.” You smiled as you glanced over the first three he’d written, flawlessly executed on the document.

“Can you help me with the next one?” He wondered, you nodding your head as you took a seat on the stool next to his.

“What do you want the next one to say?” You asked, watching as he glanced off to the side in thought, slightly squinting his eyes at the tile floor beneath the sink.

“My house is next to,” He spoke in English, pausing as he searched his brain for what pronoun to put next.

“Theys?” He answered as more of a question, then shaking his head as he switched back to Korean, “wait, no.” He sighed, placing his chin in his hand in thought before glancing over to you.

“I know it’s wrong, I just don’t know what the right answer is instead.” He explained, you shooting him a loving smile as you pushed the dark raven hair off his forehead and pressed a kiss to the newly revealed skin.

“I’ll help you, Sunshine. No worries.”

jimin:

Flopping onto the bed, you let your tired body fall on top of Jimin’s hoodie clad chest, his arm encircling your body as he mumbled a soft greeting to you.

“Hm, what are you learning about today?” You nuzzled into his chest, peering at his phone propped up on his thigh.

“Animals. Birds, mostly.” He answered, briefly turning from the screen to press a kiss to your head before focusing back on the row of English words matched with pictures of popular birds glowing from the device.

The first was a robin, the next a blue jay, and then a dove.

You listened as the virtual instructor prompted Jimin to repeat after her, spelling out the letters before stating the whole word. You smiled as your boyfriend followed instruction, pronouncing the words the best he could after the microphone chimed for him to do so.

“D-o-v-e. Dove.”

“Dove.” He repeated, smiling to himself as the app announced he got the point with a little heart.

“That’s cute.” He went back to his native language, you humming in confusion as you lifted your head up off his chest to look at him.

“The heart?” You asked, reaching up to twist a stray strand of hair out of his eye as he shook his head.

“Dove.” He said again, making you tilt your head, not knowing what he meant.

“It sounds like ‘love.’” He connected the two English words, you smiling fondly at him in response before scooting up the bed to kiss the tip of his button nose.

“You’re so cute.”

taehyung:

Three knocks at the door announced someone’s arrival to your bedroom, causing your head to lift from the novel you’d been so immersed in. Taehyung was home, but you’d wanted to give him space because you knew he needed to work on lyrics for his mixtape in order to submit them on time. 

“Hey,” he poked his head in with a small smile, “can you help me with something?” He asked sheepishly, stepping further into the room when you nodded.

“Of course. What is it?” You set your book down, marking your place before closing it to pay full attention to your boyfriend.

“Well, I’m trying to write this verse in English and,” he trailed off with a shrug, “you know.” He finished, you nodding in response with a gesture for him to come sit next to you.

He eagerly walked over to you with his notebook in hand, lowering himself to the mattress before rolling his way over to where you were leaning against the headboard.

Honestly, Taehyung’s English wasn’t bad at all. He was insecure about it, but you’d never really understood what the reason for that feeling was. His vocabulary was more than decent, his comprehension was good, and his pronunciation was great for having such a thick accent.

But there were many times where Taehyung came to you for guidance, as you were a native English speaker yourself.

And so, as he rested his head on your shoulder confiding in you about everything he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it, you patiently took him through what would work and rhyme best, smiling as he hummed the melody to himself to see if the phrases would work in his creation.

jungkook:

“Baby, can you read it to me again before we go on? Just one more time.”

You glanced over at your boyfriend in his makeup chair, several employees bustling around the man as they attempted to get him ready to go on stage while they had him seated.

With his arm extended backward to where you stood behind his leather chair, he offered his phone to you while shooting you a grin through the reflection in the mirror.

Taking the device from his hand, you opened it to the notes app where he’d written what he wanted to say in his statement on stage in just a few minutes.

You were in London tonight, which meant that all of the boys had been rehearsing their English so that they could communicate easier with their audience.

Jungkook, ever the over-achiever, was determined to do the toughest English tongue twister he could possibly find. Not only that, but in a British accent for his British ARMY’s.

“Betty bought a bit of better butter to make her bitter butter better.” You read from the phone, barely able to read the sentence yourself before you glanced up at Jungkook through the mirror again.

You watched your boyfriend nod as his brain took in the words you’d just said, taking a deep inhale before he began speaking the phrase back to you.

You gawked as the man effortlessly repeated after you, a few of the makeup artists stopping as well as Jungkook raised his eyebrows back at you.

“Was that okay?”

[nightingaelic]

There's a graphic novel of Fallout New Vegas called "All Roads" with a character named "Chance" who is a Great Khan. If he survived the events of the comic and became one of the Courier's companions, how would the others (+ Benny and Vulpes) react upon meeting him?

Link to the original story for the uninitiated

TW: Blood

In the hustle and bustle of New Vegas and its surrounding settlements, silence was hard to come by. The necessary chatter of commerce fell on the ears of travelers long before they arrived at their destination, drew them into the swirl of the city and the factions that rolled together and clashed over the Mojave sands.

The courier knew the sounds well, recognized the mess of voices, calls of livestock, distant gunshots and street corner criers as they passed through. The noise died, though, as they drew near. Maybe it was recognition of the messenger in the stories, the one who walked out of Goodsprings with a bullet in their head and a hunger in their heart. Or maybe it was the man who shadowed them, the scarred blonde Khan who towered above everyone else in the crowd and whose own, painful silence swallowed up life's song with nothing but a withering look and a finger on the hilt of his knife.

Arcade Gannon: The Khan warrior's presence very nearly silenced Arcade as well, the first time he laid eyes on him. It was a busy day at the Old Mormon Fort. Some kind of scuffle between the Kings and the NCR had left quite a few people in Freeside with fresh wounds, and every doctor on site had their hands full handling patients. Arcade was trying to do some medical supplies prep that nobody else had time for when someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he spun around impatiently to snap at them. There stood the courier and their sullen shadow, and Arcade swallowed his remarks. "Can I... help you?" he asked instead.

The courier jabbed their thumb at the hulking man over their shoulder. "He needs a check-up," they said.

Arcade's eyes slid hesitantly over the Great Khan, taking in the long, blonde hair, the ruddy, tan complexion, the scarred, bulging muscles under an open vest. He looked like something out of a Grognak comic. He was also holding a bloody rag to his side, growing bloodier by the second.

"Oh, for..." Arcade snapped out of his moment of masculine admiration. "Over there, sit down. Knife or bullet?"

The Khan collapsed in the indicated chair, while the courier once again answered for him. "Knife. Not too deep, but seeing as it's right next to his stomach..."

"Got it." Arcade grabbed one of the syringes from the tray he'd laid out and stuck it into the man's arm before he could protest. He pushed the man's arm up and gingerly took away the rag, inspecting the gash. "Looks like you lucked out," he mumbled, dabbing at the emerging blood. "No vitals nicked. Give it a minute or two, the Med-X will kick in and I can stitch it up."

"Thanks," the courier said. "Next time he steps in between a street urchin and an NCR soldier's blade, we'll know where to come."

Craig Boone: Boone never got a proper introduction to the courier's companion because the first time they made their way up to the mouth of Dinky the Dinosaur in Novac, the Khan saw red in more than his beret and lost control. It was all Boone could do to duck the hunting knife that was suddenly coming for his face and press his rifle up against the man's bare chest, a thin beam propped against a collapsing wall. Still the warrior came for him, his eyes flashing between images of the night watchman and the night of Bitter Springs, his teeth clenched in a noiseless snarl. It took every ounce of Boone's strength to hold him off. Not even the courier slugging the Khan in the face was enough to deter the unleashed violence, but they successfully wrenched the knife away from him and tackled him so his progress toward Boone's throat was somewhat impeded.

Boone gasped and gulped in air as the pressure of his own rifle's stock left his shoulder. "Yeah, I was there," he said, to no one in particular.

The statement renewed the Khan's vigor, and the courier that had one of his arms pinned and the other wrapped around his throat let out a cry of exasperation. "What the fuck am I missing, here? Do you two know each other?"

"Not by name." Boone took his beret off and tossed it on the floor. "But that doesn't matter much to him and his people, I expect."

Lily Bowen: The Khan didn't seem particularly bothered by the super mutants of Jacobstown, but he didn't seem particularly bothered by much beyond NCR colors. The courier left him to his own devices as they did their business, and that led him to the edge of the bighorner paddock where Lily was tending the livestock.

"Hello, dearie," the nightkin greeted him. When he didn't reply, her eyes narrowed with playful suspicion. "Oh, are we not talking to grandma today?"

The Khan shrugged, not unlike the petulant child Lily was interpreting him to be. "Naughty boy," she scolded him, then grabbed his arm and pulled him over to a pile of hay bales she had been tossing into the corral. "Help Grandma with her chores a bit, until you recover your manners."

And that's where the courier found him, after they were finished talking to Doc Henry about potential brain replacements for Rex. Chance was right next to Lily, slinging around hay bales for the bighorners like they weighed nothing while Lily filled him in on every detail of her schedule and tossed the winter feed just as easily, blissfully unaware of the man's momentarily-concealed inner turmoil. "How nice of you to join us!" Lily called when the courier put up a cautious hand to wave at the pair.

Raul Alfonso Tejada: Raul was certain he was found out when his prison cell's door was ripped off its hinges and went flying backward into the blinding Mojave sun, but the figure that stepped into the room was definitely not a super mutant. The man looked silently down at the old ghoul and his tinkering bench, and Raul gulped. "Hola."

"Don't mind him." A smaller figure stepped out of the large one's shadow. "He isn't much for conversation, but he knows how to make an entrance. We're here to rescue you."

"About time." Raul shook the courier's outstretched hand, but he kept his gaze on their companion. He took in the man's tall physique, the Great Khans leathers on his back and the track marks on his arms, and he raised an eyebrow. "Gran hijo de puta, eh? What's his story?"

The courier shrugged. "No clue. He just woke up in the same town as me and hit the road when I did. By my guess, he's got something to do with the men I'm looking for, but he's taking his sweet time telling me. Hell, I don't even know his name."

"And who're you looking for?" Raul asked, rising from his chair. "Other than me, I mean."

"A couple more like this one and a snake in a seersucker suit," the courier replied flatly, jerking their thumb back at the Khan behind them. "Come on, I'll tell you all about it on the way down this mountain."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Cass' whiskey-soaked grin widened when she got to the front of the gathering crowd outside the outpost's bar, where a blonde bear of a man was wrestling Sergeant Kilborn in the dirt. The newcomer looked like he would gladly rip out the sergeant's throat if he got him in a lucky hold, but Kilborn was holding his own for the moment, tossing verbal jabs at his silent assailant. "Fucking Khan," the glorified sentry swore, then spat into the dirt between them once they broke apart for a beat.

This incensed the blonde giant, who roared unintelligibly and jumped atop Kilborn, pummeling his face with fists rivaling a super mutant's. The primarily NCR crowd grew agitated at the sight, and someone shoved a Mojave Express courier out into the center. "Collar your dog!" someone else yelled.

The courier's eyes met Cass' gaze for a second, and Cass took the opportunity to hold up her bottle of liquor in a silent toast. The courier rolled their eyes and grabbed the Khan's shoulders, throwing him off balance enough to topple him from his seat atop Kilborn. When it looked like the courier's companion might escape their grip, Cass thrust her whiskey into the hands of the man next to her and jumped in as well, helping to lay the Khan out flat long enough for Kilborn to escape.

"Thanks," the courier said breathlessly, while the Khan roared in anger beneath their hands. "Your sergeant made some comments that he couldn't ignore."

"He's not my sergeant," Cass corrected them, before reaching her own hand out to shake the courier's. "Pleasure to make your acquaintances, you made tonight a mite more interesting than it was originally shaping up to be. Now I've got to know, what kind of idiot brings a Great Khan into an NCR outpost?"

Veronica Santangelo: Veronica had never met a Great Khan before, but she'd heard plenty of stories in her travels about why they were bad news. Still, she couldn't help feeling bad for the man sitting on the edge of the overpass that wore the Khan colors, avoiding eye contact with everyone who passed him by. His companion had gone off to haggle with the trading post merchants, so Veronica made her way over and gingerly sat down by him, just out his reach. "No offense, but you look like you've traveled a long way down some bad roads," she said, taking in the knife, burn and bullet scars that peppered his bare arms. "Where'd you come from?"

The man swung his chin around to look at her, but he didn't respond. He simply studied her, and he had a haunted look about him that nearly scared the Scribe away. "Ooooo-kay then," she said, under her breath. "Um, welcome. I'm Veronica. I live in a... you know what, never mind. I'm not there much anymore, and out here's way more interesting, anyway."

The Khan's eyebrows went up, and he glanced over her shoulder. A voice behind her spoke. "Making friends?"

Veronica turned to find the courier, who had somehow manage to approach her silently with an armful of banana yucca fruit and frag mines. "I was trying to," Veronica admitted. "But I don't think he trusts me. Is it the hood, or was I too forward?"

"Ah, don't take it personally." The courier sat down on the other side of her and began stowing away their purchases. "He doesn't talk. Ever."

"Huh." Veronica looked back at the Khan, whose expression had soured a little. "Some kind of vow of silence, or did some Fiends tinker with his vocal cords?"

"As far as I can tell, his voice box is fine," the courier replied. They tapped their head. "I think the block is up here, not in his throat. Or maybe it's a conscious decision. Anyway, he'll talk when he's good and ready, I think."

ED-E: The little eyebot faltered a bit, when it first rebooted in the Mojave Express outpost in Primm, and bobbled into the courier that had awoken it and the tall man who accompanied them. The courier giggled and pushed it up and away, encouraging it to fly, but the man at their side tenderly caught the robot when it unexpectedly dropped a few inches and held it until its flight pathing had recalibrated itself.

"Huh," Johnson Nash said, when the Khan released the eyebot again. "Never known your kind to have a fondness for mechanical things."

This seemed to stump the blonde Khan, and ED-E scanned him as he stood still and pondered the shop keep's comment. Six feet and four inches tall, solid muscles, approximately 240 pounds, multiple chem addictions, PTSD. ED-E filed the information away and beeped a few times, indicating its systems were back online.

Rex: Rex studied the two figures that had come to visit the King with interest. The courier looked ordinary enough, save the heightened adrenaline in their system that usually came about when talking to the King, but the man next to them was much more interesting. He breathed loudly, which normally wasn't a noticeable trait, but he made no other noises, answered no questions and offered no words to those around him. His hands were balled into fists most of the time, as if he was holding back something in his own mind and veins that threatened to escape. His eyes flickered dangerously in his face, aflame in mistrust and anger, and his long, blonde hair was unkempt and greasy from travel and lack of care.

Though the King hid it well, Rex could tell his master was a little unnerved by the giant man, too. "Take Rexie with you," he suggested, indicating the cyberdog at his side. "I see you've got muscle to spare, but he's a good dog. You never know when you'll need one, in Freeside."

"Thanks," the courier replied, glancing up at the man next to them. "But most dogs don't..."

Rex rose and padded over to look at the silent man directly, as if to prove the courier wrong. Though he hesitated at first, the Khan reached down to place a hand on the cyberdog's brain dome.

"There you go," the King said with a smile. "Seems Rexie's not put off by your friend. Take good care of him, you two."

Benny Gecko: When the courier threw open the doors of the Tops and strolled in, pointing a shotgun into the face of anyone who tried to stop them, Benny heard the commotion and swore profusely. "What in the goddamn..."

"Hey Benny!" The courier raised the gun and fired it into the air. "We never finished our talk, back in Goodsprings!"

Benny put his hands up while his men closed in around him. "Let's keep this in the groove, hey? Smooth moves, like... smooth little... babies..."

The courier leveled the shotgun at the group of Chairmen. "Give me one good reason not to kill you."

"You want a reason?" Benny smirked, then spread his arms to indicate the bodyguards around him. "How about four? Every one of them is packing. Me too, so baby makes five."

The courier grinned. "God, I've wanted to do this for so long," they said, and the casino floor erupted in gunfire.

Benny let his bodyguards take the brunt of their anger and slipped away, ducking behind some tables to make a run for the elevators. He'd just rounded the corner, thinking he'd made it to relative safety, when a fist the size of a bowling ball came out of nowhere and knocked him flat.

The world spun, but the figure that moved to stand over him was one Benny would've recognized anywhere. He'd seen that silhouette before, seen it ablaze in the midst of a Fiend attack and seen it stretched out under the Mojave sun, a silent sacrifice to the old ways and a reminder of everything the Khans had lost. "Goddammit, I couldn't kill either of you," Benny mumbled.

The last thing Benny saw before losing consciousness was the Khan's grin.

Vulpes Inculta: The man who followed the courier at all times wasn't a Legion soldier, but Caesar's troops began to call him a Praetorian guard nevertheless. He cut an imposing figure, walking through the camp at their side with his barely-concealed anger and his muscles akin to Hercules. His muscles were a big draw in the arena, where he laid out NCR captives one after the other, working his way up to Ranger Stella with a fury that both excited Vulpes and left him curious.

Some correspondence with Karl brought him answers, which he took to Caesar at once. "The courier's companion is thought dead by his people," he informed his leader. "One of the party sent with Benny to take the platinum chip and kill the courier. He succumbed to his wounds and chems after a run-in with Fiends, and was buried near Goodsprings before the courier's own downfall."

Caesar nodded. "How did he survive?"

"That remains to be seen," Vulpes replied. "An agent of mine found his opened grave in the desert, but no clues as to who unearthed the man. The only other information to be found indicates his fondness for chems and his unnatural silence after witnessing the attack in Bitter Springs."

"He was at Bitter Springs?" Caesar smiled. "Then we can use him. Send word to Karl and Papa Khan at once: Their prodigal son has returned from the dead, and he fights for the Legion, and for vengeance."

[honeypiehotchner]

delicate -- Hotch x Reader one-shot

Here’s that one-shot I’ve been holding for a while! Named her delicate after Taylor Swift’s song, purely because of the whole “dive bar on the east side/where you at?” imagery. I listened to the Spotify Singles (acoustic) version of the song while writing this, if you wanna listen while you read! Enjoy!! xx.

Summary: Hotch doesn’t go to bars very often. Until he meets you at one.

Warnings: age gap (reader is somewhere around 24-25), mentioning of being safe at a bar (so alluding to date rape drugs), harassment from one drunk dickhead

Hotch Masterlist

Hotch doesn’t go to bars.

When he’s not on a case, working on paperwork for a case, or caring for his son, he’s normally asleep.

Not at a bar.

But some nights, the memories are too much. Some nights, the cases take a toll on him — especially the children that never made it back home to their parents.

He doesn’t know why he’s in a bar. The only time he comes is when the team goes out and wants to drag him with. It’s normally Dave who manages to get him to agree to a beer or two.

But Aaron is alone this time.

You, on the other hand, know exactly why you’re in a bar.

You’re bored, you’ve just finished your masters degree, you need a drink and some time to yourself to people-watch.

It’s fun, really. Observing people while they’re drunk. You usually have one drink and switch over to water, wanting to remember the things you see while also staying safe.

But occasionally— or, well, more than occasionally by the sheer unfortunate fact of you being a woman alone in a bar, you get the typical man sliding into the seat next to you before he’s even all the way through his rehearsed, “Is this seat taken?”

You never answer. There is no point in trying because their ass already hits the chair before you can say, “Yes, it’s taken, by my foot, now move before I kick it up your ass.”

You never say that, not often. Sometimes the guys can be pretty big assholes, but the bartender, Vanessa, knows you well, so she usually threatens security before you get yourself in trouble.

Unfortunately, tonight looks like it’s going to be one of those nights.

The bar is packed for a reason you aren’t privy too until you see (and hear) the random band start a new song. Great. Performance.

Still, you snag the last seat at the bar, waving to the bartender when she sees you. You barely get the seat warm before she’s sliding your usual in front of you.

“It’s on the house tonight,” she yells.

“What?” You shake your head. “No the fuck it’s not.”

She leans closer so she doesn’t have to yell as loud. “You are my saving grace in this sea of assholes, so yes it is. We can fight about it later.”

“Fine,” you roll your eyes. You dip your hands underneath the bar to switch your diamond ring from your right to left hand.

Tonight, you’re married.

You got this ring when your last relationship ended so badly. It was a long time coming, and once you were finally able to see the other side, you went out and bought yourself an engagement ring. Just for you. A promise to yourself to start loving yourself harder, and going out with dickheads less.

So far, it’s been wonderful. You’re loving being alone. It was exhausting going on so many first dates, trying to love someone else instead of letting yourself heal.

It’s been two years of singleness for you now, and you’ve loved almost every day.

The “wedding” ring usually makes most of the guys turn the other way. A few that are oblivious will try talking to you, but once they glance at your hand, they excuse themselves.

It’s hysterical, if you’re honest.

But some, unfortunately, don’t give a damn.

Like the guy who has just squeezed his way into the seat next to you.

You roll your eyes and prepare yourself for the shallow conversations because, for some ungodly reason, the band decided now was a good time for a break.

“You come here often?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “Nope.”

“It’s a pretty good place,” the guy says, waving down the other bartender, his name is Nick. “You should come here more often.”

“Should I, now?”

“Yeah,” the guy grins. “You’ll see me.”

You roll your eyes so hard it nearly hurts.

“Wanna dance?”

“Not in the mood.”

“Can I buy you another drink?”

“No thanks.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“Why, do you work here?”

“Look, I’m just trying to be nice.” Ah, there it is. The “nice guy” line.

You turn your head, raising an eyebrow. “Good for you. I’m not interested.”

“Ooh,” he feigns hurt, holding an open hand to his chest. “Ouch.”

You shrug. “You’ll get over it.”

“Damn.”

“Mm.”

“You sure you don’t wanna dance?”

“I’m married,” you say easily, picking your glass up with your left hand to show off your ring. You don’t drink from your glass because you made the mistake of looking away for only a moment, so now you’re paranoid that he might’ve slipped something in it.

The guy looks around, then back to you. “I don’t see a husband.” Oh, he sounds so smug. Like he’s pulled one over on you. Moron.

“He’s on a work trip.”

“Well, he’s not here.”

“You don’t want to get on his bad side, dude.”

“Oh really? What’s he do for a living?”

“He works for the FBI.” The lie slips from your mouth before you can stop it, and you almost laugh.

It’s something you’ve pulled from the countless guys that have said they work for the FBI, but have no badge to show for it. It’s always cracked you up. You’re aware there’s an FBI office around here, but you doubt a greasy, blackout drunk works for them. Let alone more than five greasy, blackout drunks in one night.

“The FBI, huh?” The guy says, just taking it in stride. “What’s his name?”

Right as you’re about to make one up until Vanessa can get back over here to threaten security, two arms slip around your waist.

You’re ready to throw caution to the wind along with your fists, but the owner of the arms says, “Just go with it, I’m Aaron.”

You turn your head to see a very handsome older man peering down at you, a smile on his lips that you can’t help but mirror. Something about his face has your gut screaming that you can trust him, so you play along.

“Honey! I thought you were in Texas!” You throw your arms around his neck for good measure, and also for a moment to casually get a good whiff of his cologne. Goddamn. You’ll gladly be his fake-wife. Any day. Forever.

“I was,” Aaron says, squeezing you before letting you go. He moves to stand next to you, his arm around your waist in a protective manner. “We landed early, wanted to surprise you.” He kisses your knuckles to keep up the act, and then settles his eyes on the man who was bothering you.

“You must be the husband,” the guy mutters bitterly. “You really work for the FBI?”

Oh, fuck, you think. This guy just doesn’t give up. A few future scenarios flash before your eyes, but the one most alarming is a fight erupting, which isn’t all that far-fetched. You’d never be able to come back if you caused something like that.

But before you can stumble through some excuse, Aaron is pulling out a badge. An actual badge.

“Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner. I’m the unit chief of the BAU,” he says easily, holding his badge out for as long as it takes the guy to inspect it. You have no clue what BAU stands for, but you’re just thanking whatever Gods might be real that this is happening.

The idiot is scowling by the time Aaron puts his badge away. He leaves without a word.

Your jaw nearly drops as you watch the guy go, and literally leave the bar. You had hopes that he’d leave you alone, but leaving the bar entirely is even better.

Aaron’s arm slips from around your waist as he moves to take the now empty seat next to you. All the while you’re gawking at him like you’re in some fever dream.

When he catches your eyes, he says, “What?”

“Am I dreaming?” You blurt. “Do you really work for the FBI?”

He chuckles and pulls out his badge again, holding it out to you where you can read it. And sure as shit, he’s an actual FBI agent. What the fuck.

You look up as he pulls his badge away. “Did you hear me tell the guy my husband worked for the FBI?”

Aaron shakes his head. “That was pure luck. By the way,” he holds his hand out to you. “I’m Aaron.”

“Y/N,” you shake his hand, smiling at the fact that Aaron wanted to go through the official pleasantries and that you got to feel how soft his hand is again. “Thank you for that. I thought he’d never leave.”

“No worries. And it’s best he did, I really didn’t feel like arresting anyone tonight.”

“Arresting him? For what?”

“Well for starters, harassment. But since that usually doesn’t hold up very well, I’d have to say it was for his cocaine addiction.”

Your eyes widen. “He was doing coke?”

“Well, not out in the open, of course, but there were traces of it on his nose and his eyes had that look to them. Addicts are easy to spot when you run into them enough.”

Who the hell is this guy?

“Oh, and forgive me, what’s your husband’s name?” Aaron gestures down at your left hand. “I might know him, but I can’t say that I recognize you.”

“Oh,” you move the ring back to your right hand, much to Aaron’s surprise. “I’m not married. I only put it on the left hand to try to avoid assholes like that.”

“I see,” Aaron nods, and if you’re not mistaken, he almost looks pleased.

Vanessa returns to get Aaron’s drink, and then gives you a look.

You want to scream, yes, I’m well aware he is dangerously attractive and that he’s talking to me but don’t you dare say a word to embarrass me.

Instead, you say, “Can you make me another?”

She nods in understanding and pours out your drink, setting off to make a second after sliding Aaron his beer.

“So,” you turn your body and prop your head in your palm. “What’s got an FBI agent in a bar on a Tuesday night?”

He takes a long swig of his beer before answering. “What’s the real story behind that ring on your hand?”

“Answer for an answer,” you sing, smiling at Vanessa when she brings you your drink. She leaves without a word, raising her eyebrows at you.

“The cases can be rough,” Aaron says vaguely, bringing your attention back to him. “You?”

“Got it as a promise to myself to never date another prick ever again,” you chuckle, gazing down at the ring. “It’s worked its magic, so far.”

“So far?”

“I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”

He smiles through his next swig of beer.

+++

It becomes a routine, you and Aaron sharing a drink at the bar.

To your surprise, he has the same views as you about alcohol. It’s fun to have one drink, but getting wasted and blacking out isn’t.

It’s refreshing, if you’re honest. Everyone your age wants to get absolutely shitfaced every time they go out, and that’s just never been for you.

It helps that Aaron is older. Well— You’re not sure if it helps or not. Because he is significantly older, the farthest you two have gone is sharing a drink at the bar. He usually leaves first, needing to get home to his son, to do more case work, or there was one time when he actually got a call about a case mid-drink. He was gone for two weeks after that.

But he always comes back, and he always finds you here, at this bar.  

You mostly come every night to keep Vanessa company for an hour or two. To give yourself a break from the chaos of reality and to give her a familiar face in the sea of drunken customers.

Every night that Aaron isn’t here, Vanessa asks you where he is. Like you would know (you only do if he tells you of a possible up and coming case). Like you have his number (you don’t). Like you care (you don’t want to admit that you do).

“No Daddy tonight?” Vanessa teases, sliding you your drink.

“If you don’t stop calling him Daddy, I swear to God.”

“Oh, don’t swear to Him. He doesn’t need to get involved.”

You send a glare her way, but you’re holding back a laugh.

“Is he still on a case?” She asks, trying to be serious again.

You shrug. “Who knows. They can last pretty long. He was gone two weeks for the last one.”

“Keeping track, are we?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Shut up.”

“I’m just saying, you two are killing me here, sharing drinks and not saying how you feel. It’s torture to watch you every week, you know.”

“He’s like...twenty years older than me. Or something.”

“And?” She scoffs. “Age is but a number. You’re an adult. He’s an adult. It’s fine.”

You shrug. “He probably just sees me as a friend. He would’ve given me his number or something by now, right?”

“I dunno, men are weird. But he’s older, he’s probably scared to make a move, scared he’ll make you uncomfortable.”

You shrug again. You appreciate her trying to show you the possibilities, the logical reasons for why the two of you haven’t gone any further from the bar, but you aren’t sure what to believe. Plus, it’s been a week since you’ve seen him. The last time you two shared a drink, he didn’t say anything about a case.

So, he’s either on a case again, or has stopped coming.

The latter thought has you debating getting shitfaced wasted for the first time in years. Being blackout drunk would probably hurt you less than if it’s true that he’s just suddenly ditched you.

But what stops you is when Vanessa runs back over, eyes wide. “Just spotted your hottie.”

Oh, now he’s my hottie? “What?” You inwardly scold yourself for sounding a little too giddy at the prospect of him being here. 

But if he’s here, why isn’t he sitting next to you?

Vanessa answers that one for you. “At a table in the back. He’s with friends I think.”

Friends? Never mind then on sharing a drink with him. “Oh, cool.”

Vanessa looks like she wants to say something, but is called away to another customer.

You don’t want to butt in with Aaron’s time with friends, so you stay at the bar, facing forward, nursing your one drink. Your mind conjures a plan in two seconds flat: finish your drink, head out for the night and discreetly look in Aaron’s direction, hopefully catch his eye, but if not, just go home and...shower and go to sleep.

Because if he wants to see you, he will. If he doesn’t, then he won’t.

Good plan.

Or at least, it is, until Aaron is sliding up beside you.

Your heart launches itself into your throat. You don’t say anything because you have no idea what to say. You were too busy assuming he’d rather be with his friends (which is...fine because it’s not like the two of you are...dating) to notice him walking up.

He says something for you, though. “Hey.”

Well, he might as well have stayed silent. What are you supposed to do with that?

“Hey,” you return casually, then offer a small smile. “Thought you’d be gone longer.” You operate on the assumption that he was on a case.

And he was. “This one actually worked in our favor.” He leans his elbows onto the bar, and naturally your eyes follow the movement. He’s not in a stuffy suit like the last few times, but he’s still in a dress shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Arms. You’re a complete sucker for arms, and he’s practically teasing you like this.

“That’s good,” you comment, taking a sip from your drink. “Here to celebrate?”

“Yeah, we are.”

Nick brings Aaron his beer, thankfully, because you know Vanessa would’ve made some not-so-vague comment about Aaron being up here -- and maybe let an “accidental” Daddy comment slip.

To your surprise, Aaron sits down.

Your eyebrows furrow. “I thought you’re here with friends?”

Aaron looks over his shoulder and shrugs. “Just my team, yeah. I imagine they’re tired of me, though.”

You doubt that’s the case, but you know that if you say that, he’ll just brush it off.

“Not even gonna introduce me?” You tease instead, but you honestly want to smack yourself. You need to get a better hold on your word vomit. Inviting yourself is insanely rude.

Aaron’s eyebrows raise slightly, clearly not expecting you to say that — or to even want to be introduced to his team. “They’re a lot,” he says. “They’ll make a big deal out of this.”

“This?” You question, gesturing shortly between the two of you. “What is this?”

“What do you want it to be?” He asks carefully, averting his eyes shyly.

“Well,” you exhale dramatically, swirling your drink. “I think when you’ve shared a drink with a woman more than...twenty times, it should at least be considered dating.” You cut your eyes in his direction, your chest swelling as you see a grin breaking out on his face.

“I think I’m a bad date,” he says, confusing you. He chuckles, adding, “You don’t even have my number!”

“I’ll get it at the end of tonight,” you say, touching his arm gently for reassurance. “Come on, I think the back of my head is burning from how hard they’re staring.”

He looks through the corner of his eyes and sighs. “I’m sorry in advance for them.”

“No need to apologize,” you shrug. “Friends can be the worst. Vanessa has already started asking questions about you.” You nod toward the bartender that is feigning interest in clearing a space behind the bar.

“I figured,” Aaron murmurs. “Okay.” He slides off the stool, grabbing his beer in one hand, and holding his other one out to you.

Your heart jumps harshly when you take his hand. It’s warm and soft and secure, everything you want and need. You grab your drink in your free hand, giving Aaron’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

As soon as you and Aaron approach the table, the older gentleman is punching the one with tattoos. “Pay up.”

Aaron witnesses the cash exchange and stares at them tiredly. “Seriously, guys?”

Meanwhile, you’re holding back a giggle.

“Well, hello,” the woman with the colorful fashion sense says. “Introduce us!”

Aaron looks ready to pretend like he doesn’t know any of them, so you step up and say, “He told me you guys would be like this.”

That gets him laughing, and he finally says, “Y/N, this is Penelope, Emily, JJ, Spencer, Derek, and Dave.” Each person nods, waves, or smiles when their name is called.

“I’ll try to remember,” you joke. “But no promises.”

You squeeze Aaron’s hand in yours, trying to get him to loosen up. He does, barely, so when he tugs on your hand, silently asking you to step closer to him so his arm can fit around your waist, you oblige.

“What was the bet about?” You ask, nodding toward the men who exchanged cash a bit ago. It was Dave and Derek if you’re remembering names correctly.

“Rossi thought Hotch was going to bring you back over here, but I didn’t agree,” Derek says, nudging Dave’s arm. “I didn’t think you’d go for him.”

“Well, that’d be embarrassing if I went for someone else, considering we’re dating,” you chuckle, leaning your head back to look up at Aaron.

“Dating? So it’s official?” Emily asks, looking a little more excited than you thought any of them would.

“I think it was official the first time we met,” you snicker. “He pretended to be my husband so some dickhead would leave me alone.”

Aaron’s arm tightens around your waist at the memory.

“Okay,” Penelope grabs her drink, then moves over next to you, linking your arm with hers. “Hotch, we’re stealing her. We need details.”

Aaron doesn’t look like he wants to let go at all, but you press a kiss to his cheek. “Told you it’d be fine,” you whisper to him.

He surprises you by pressing a kiss on your lips. Midway through, your brain reminds you that this is technically your first kiss with him. And it’s in front of his friends. Swoon.

After so many dates with guys who were ashamed to be showing any sort of affection toward a woman, it’s nice to find a man who doesn’t care who sees his affection.

What can you say? After dating so many boys, it’s nice to finally find a man.