#oh and some other stuff too but look i NEEDED these things

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Our Baby.

Best Friends!Wandanat x little!reader

Summary: Natasha and Wanda are best friends who have always only been that, but when you come crashing into their lives and take on the roles of caregiver will their relationship deepen?

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: Age Regression, mentions of stress and being overwhelmed, caregiver/regressor, fluffy, comfort

Authors note: I saw a post about two best friends being caregivers for someone and this happened sooooo let me know if you want more

Also, to all the littles, seeing this, please tred lightly on this blog! This is my big 18+ blog, but I do have some little!reader fics. Everything is marked accordingly!

Wanda and Natasha had been inseparable for years. The two women were practically extensions of one another, sharing a bond so deep that they didn’t think anyone could ever come between them. That is, until you came crashing into their lives—quite literally.

It had been a particularly hectic day in the city. You were rushing down the sidewalk, juggling your tote bag and a stack of books, when you collided headlong into two very sturdy figures. Hot liquid splashed everywhere, the unmistakable aroma of coffee filling the air.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” you gasped, immediately dropping your things to grab napkins from your bag. You looked up, your wide, apologetic eyes meeting two startled, but intrigued, gazes.

Wanda smiled gently, already sensing the warmth and innocence radiating from you. “It’s alright. No harm done.”

Natasha, on the other hand, smirked, brushing coffee from her leather jacket. “You’ve got quite the impact for someone so small.”

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you continued to stammer apologies, your hands nervously twisting the napkins. Something about their presence was overwhelming—but not in a bad way. It felt… safe, somehow.

That moment sparked the beginning of something neither Wanda nor Natasha had anticipated. They’d initially invited you out to lunch to reassure you that everything was fine. But one lunch turned into several, and soon, the two heroines found themselves eagerly waiting for your next meeting. You were sweet, playful, and endearing in a way they couldn’t quite describe.

Wanda and Natasha hadn’t immediately noticed your little tendencies. You were so good at masking that even they, two of the most observant people you’d ever met, didn’t put it all together right away. But over time, the signs began to show.

It started with little things. Like the time you fell asleep on their couch during a movie night. Wanda, ever the caregiver, went to drape a blanket over you and froze mid-motion. Your thumb was tucked in your mouth, and you were suckling softly in your sleep. She didn’t say anything at first, but the sight stuck with her.

Then there was your choice of drinkware. You always seemed to have colorful tumblers with cartoon characters on them. Wanda thought they were cute, but Natasha couldn’t help but tease you about your “sippy cups.” You only giggled nervously, brushing it off as something you just liked.

The biggest hint came the first time they asked you to spend the night unexpectedly. They could see the hesitation in your face before you shyly asked, “Can I go home to grab something first? I, um, I need my stuffie to sleep.” You didn’t elaborate, but they saw the soft blush dusting your cheeks as you avoided eye contact. Natasha, being Natasha, simply smirked and said, “Of course, detka. Everyone needs their comforts.”

But the moment of clarity came on a particularly stressful day for you. It had been weeks of mounting pressure from college—assignments, deadlines, and social obligations piling up until you couldn’t take it anymore. You showed up at their apartment in tears, unable to mask how overwhelmed you felt.

Wanda had just opened the door when you pushed past her, pacing in the living room. “Ish no fair!” you cried, your voice higher-pitched and trembling. “They ep ivin me too mush stuffs, an I an’t do it! I an’t—I no wanna!”

Wanda blinked, stunned for a moment before her motherly instincts kicked in. “Sweetheart,” she cooed, stepping closer. “Baby, hey, hey, it’s okay. Come here.” She gently guided you to the couch, her soothing voice and soft hands calming you just enough to sit down.

But as you tried to explain what was wrong, the words tumbled out in a way that surprised even you. “Ish so dumb! olege is too hard, an I just wan loler or wash toons. I no wan do big peoples stuff!” you wailed, curling up with your stuffie tightly clutched to your chest.

Natasha, who had been watching quietly, crouched in front of you. Her sharp, calculating gaze softened as she reached out to hold your hand. “Woah, those are some really big things to deal with, little one,” she said gently, her tone surprisingly tender. “Way too big for you to be thinking about, don’t you think?”

Wanda nodded, sitting beside you and rubbing your back. “Exactly. Mama and Daddy are here to take care of the big stuff, okay? You just focus on being our sweet little girl.”

You sniffled, looking up at them with wide, watery eyes. “Really?”

Natasha smiled, brushing a tear from your cheek. “Really. Let us handle it. You just stay small for us, alright?”

That was the day things changed. They didn’t just accept your regression—they embraced it wholeheartedly. From that point on, they made sure you always had a safe space to be yourself, no matter how little you felt. 

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

It had been a few months since Wanda and Natasha had fully embraced being your caregivers. Their small apartment had worked for a while, but it was quickly becoming clear that it wasn’t enough space for the three of you—especially when you regressed and wanted to run around or build blanket forts. Wanda had been the first to bring up the idea of moving, and Natasha, took the lead in making it happen.

Of course, they didn’t tell you right away. They wanted it to be a surprise.

One sunny afternoon, Wanda and Natasha took you on what they called a "special outing." You didn’t think much of it at first, happily clutching your favorite stuffed animal as they guided you out to the car. But as the drive continued and the scenery shifted from busy city streets to quiet suburban neighborhoods, your curiosity piqued.

“Where are we going?” you asked, bouncing slightly in your seat.

Wanda smiled from the passenger seat, turning to look at you. “You’ll see soon, baby. Be patient.”

Natasha smirked from the driver’s seat. “I think you’ll like it, detka. It’s a big surprise.”

When the car finally pulled into the driveway of a charming two-story house, your jaw dropped. The exterior was painted a deep, calming blue with crisp white accents, and there was a small front porch with enough room for a swing. The yard was spacious and inviting, with plenty of room for you to play.

Wanda stepped out first, holding her hand out for you. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go take a look.” You held her hand, your stuffie in the other.

As soon as you stepped inside, you were in awe. The interior was just as beautiful as the outside, with a clean palette of whites and deep blues that felt cozy yet elegant. Your little heart couldn’t contain the excitement as you clutched your stuffed animal tighter, your eyes darting around the open spaces and tall ceilings.

“This is ours?” you squeaked, looking up at Wanda with wide eyes.

“Not yet,” she said with a soft laugh. “We’re still deciding, but we wanted you to see it first.”

Natasha smirked, already following the realtor as she walked through the house, discussing what changes could be made before moving in. “Go on, malen'kaya,” Natasha encouraged, nodding toward the hallway. “Explore a little.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You darted off, your stuffie bouncing in your arms as you ran down the halls, peeking into each room. There was a large kitchen with an island perfect for baking cookies with Wanda, a spacious living room where Natasha would undoubtedly set up a big TV for movie nights, and upstairs, you found a bedroom that you just knew would be yours.

The house was perfect.

When you ran back to find Wanda and Natasha, they were standing in the living room with the realtor, discussing changes they’d like—adding a fence to the backyard for privacy, painting one of the upstairs bedrooms in softer, more playful tones, and installing blackout curtains in the master bedroom.

Natasha looked over as you skidded to a stop, a bright smile on her face. “What do you think, little one? Do you like it?”

“I love it!” you exclaimed, practically vibrating with excitement.

Wanda knelt down and cupped your cheek, her thumb brushing over your soft skin. “Good. Because this is going to be your new home, sweetheart. Somewhere safe and quiet, just for us.”

Tears pricked at your eyes as you threw your arms around her, your stuffie squished between you. Natasha joined the hug, wrapping her strong arms around the both of you.

“You two are the best,” you whispered, your voice muffled by Wanda’s shoulder.

“And you’re worth it, detka,” Natasha said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “This is just the beginning.”

[sinnabarmoth]

Welcome Home

Pairing: Zayne x Fem|Reader

Prompt: Mini fic of Reader being a soft!dom with the lads. (Not necessarily sexual, just sweet 'let me take care of you' vibes.)

Word count: 1k

Links to the other lads: (Rafayel) (Xavier) (Sylus)

You heard the front door open and smiled. “Welcome home, how was work my darling?” you called to Zayne from the kitchen.

“I’m…alive.” he sighed.

“Oh dear,” you put the soup on low heat to keep it warm and went out to see him. Zayne was slumped against the front door toeing off his shoes. There were deep lines etched into his forehead, bags under his eyes, and his hair was askew from running his hands through it. “What happened? Something go wrong at work?”

“No. Nothing wrong but the amount of work being put on my plate.” he let you help him out of his overcoat. “I probably would have stayed later to get some more things done but I knew if I did that you’d come over and drag me out by the nape of my neck.”

“Damn right I would have. I haven’t spent the last couple years instilling a sense of work/life balance in you for you to backslide now.” you pulled him in for a hug. “You work so hard, you need to remember to take breaks when you need them. You’re not some machine.”

“I know,” he sighed, pressing his forehead to yours. “Which is why I came home. I know you’d force me to relax no matter what.”

“You know me so well. Now go on, get out of your work clothes and come join me for dinner. I made a very nutritious vegetable soup--”

“And you made sure to--”

“With no carrots. I know.” you rolled your eyes. “And I also bought taro ice cream for dessert.”

His eyes lit up at the mention of ice cream. “Is it possible we can have dessert first?”

“You know I’d do anything for you, Zaynie. But I spent an hour making this soup, you’re getting a bowl full of that first.” you gave his butt a little pat as you ushered him toward the bedroom.

You ladled soup into the waiting bowls on the table and sat down as Zayne reemerged looking much more comfortable. You let him complain about his day and vent his frustrations with the changes they were doing around the hospital that he didn’t think were actually necessary. Your feet bumped against his under the table, reminding him that he was home and didn’t need to worry about work any more tonight.

Slowly he started to relax and the life came back into his eyes as he ate the soup. There was your husband. You leaned across the table and took his free hand, stroking it lightly with your thumb. He looked up at you through the fringe of his hair.

“Something wrong?”

“No. I was just thinking about how all day all you do is take care of everyone else. People put you in charge of their health, the health of their friends and family, their very lives really. It’s a lot of pressure. It makes me worry sometimes that you forget to take care of yourself, let someone dote on you for a change.” you squeezed his hand. “I want to be that person for you.”

“You are that person every day.” a gentle smile grew on his face. “Every time I come home and see your smiling face I forget all my other worries. I know that you will always be there to take my coat and lift my spirits and tell me to just lay back and take it easy for the night. You have no idea how much I appreciate that, how much I appreciate you.”

“Aw Zayne!” you got up and kissed his cheek. “You really are the sweetest, my darling.”

“I’m just telling the truth. I can hardly remember a time before I had you in my life. I must have been a machine to have coped with it all.”

“You were never a machine. You just didn’t have someone to remind you to look after yourself. Sometimes people need someone to come in and remind them that they are a person too. After that, they learn to do it for themselves. Do you think the Zayne from a couple years ago would have left work on time when he knew he could get more stuff done if he stayed?”

He shook his head. “No. I would have been there till midnight, probably would have slept there too.”

“Exactly. Now look at you, you come home to me without me having to so much as send a text. I helped pull you out but you’ve been doing marvelously at keeping yourself afloat. I don’t want you to ever forget that.”

“My flower…” he gazed up at you with absolute love and adoration.

“And it looks like you finished your soup so if you still want it we can have ice cream now.” you said brightly.

“Yes, please.”

“So polite.” you ruffled his hair and grabbed the ice cream out of the freezer. You were going to scoop it out but decided to just grab two spoons and stuck them in the carton. “Since you worked so hard today and you’re being extra sweet I think we can have a straight from the carton kinda night. Have as much as you want.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” you sat yourself on the edge of the table and scooped up some ice cream with your spoon. “Want me to feed you as well?”

His face started turning red. “No--I mean, not unless you really want to.”

You chuckled and held the spoon out for him. He licked the ice cream off and once he had you bent closer and pecked his lips, chasing the lingering sweetness on them. You noticed when you started to pull away he leaned in closer, chasing your lips.

You smiled, cupping his face. “Is my doctor perhaps craving something a little sweeter than ice cream?”

He gulped, staring up at you through half lidded eyes. “I mean I wouldn’t mind…” he trailed off.

“Come now, my darling. You know better than to not finish your sentence.” you said in a quiet, coaxing voice. “What is it you want?”

“I’d like to go back to the bedroom, my flower.” he said, his spine straightening.

“Much better.” you pulled him out of his chair and quickly tossed the ice cream back in the freezer. “We can finish that later. Right now I think what my hard working husband needs is a thorough massage.”

[blackcoldcrackedheart]

I need to write. I'm too pissed off rn.

What if Tommy showed up after Patricia died?

Moving her mother's stuff almost felt like betrayal. Abby knew her mom was gone, a part of her felt relieved, another upset, another angry.

It was just too overwhelming to feel or think. She just had to power through it but she was getting more drained and exhausted. Despite her brother, Carla, and Buck being there to help her pack and move stuff out.

Buck was trying his best. She knew that. But she felt a little annoyed and suffocated by him right now. Despite knowing deep down he didn't do anything wrong.

"Okay, clothes are boxed up and ready." Buck let her know, holding said boxes in his arm. She didn't appreciate the smile from Carla and the mirth behind her eyes regarding Buck inadvertently showing off his muscles. "Where do you want this?"

There was a pause before her brother noticed her expression and quickly told Buck, "Over there by the door is fine." He gave Abby a questionable glance, she could see her brother making his way towards her when the doorbell rang.

"That's probably Josh or Sue." Abby sighed, wiping her hands down the side of her pants anxiously. "Buck? Would you mind?" She jutted her chin towards the door.

"Uh- yeah, sure." Buck opened the door quickly and wide, she couldn't see his expression whilst opening it but Abby figured it was similar to her's.

She momentarily frowned, stepping closer when she realized it wasn't Josh or Sue. It was a man carrying a large bouquet of white flowers that was obscuring his face- but Abby knew from the lower half of the man's body that it wasn't Josh...but she was getting deja vu.

The flowers shifted, exposing the man's face.

"Tommy!" Abby exhaled happily and in shock. Pushing past Buck to let the other man in and accept a side hug.

"There's my Abby." It felt all too familiar to be hugged by her ex. Tommy and her weren't together for that long before he came out to her. She was understanding, surprised, but understanding.

He had sworn up and down to her that he cared about her genuinely and that he wasn't using her- to some extent. But the more he spent time with her the more he knew he was just lying to himself.

She should have been upset but Tommy was always kind to her when they were dating and understanding about the fact that her mom came first.

Truth be told, they dated but they didn't spend a lot of time together and Tommy never pushed her about it.

Which made sense in the long run.

"I'm so sorry about Patricia." Tommy told her, his voice sincere, "i wanted to come to the funeral but couldn't find someone to cover my shift." He presented her with the flowers, "Thought to come here to show my respects while dropping these off."

Her brother stepped up first to grab the flowers, shifting it to one side as he stuck out his hand to shake Tommy's. "Hi, I'm Matthew." He lifted the flowers, "These are lovely, I'm sure our mother would have loved them."

Abby felt her eyes sting a bit but she pushed on, "Oh and this is Carla."

Carla gave her a sly look but said nothing as she shook Tommy's hand. "It's nice to meet you. I heard a lot about you."

Tommy paused, looking reproachful momentarily. "Ah, good things, I hope?"

Carla smiled brightly, waving her hand playfully as she told him "Of course!"

Carla didn't move just watching with a curious expression as Abby started to ask how Tommy how he was doing. Before Tommy could get into the weeds about his life, Carla cleared her throat getting the attention of Abby and Tommy.

"Isn't there someone else you might want to introduce Tommy to?" She asked Abby with raised brows and a head tilt.

Abby frowned, looking genuinely confused about who else was left till she noticed where Carla was tilting her head to.

She saw Buck standing by the door still, looking not upset or jealous as Carla might have expected.

But in awe?

Probably in awe at how he could be forgotten like that by Abby.

"Oh, Buck!" Abby gave out a self-deprecating laugh as she ushered Buck over.

Carla was not a betting woman.

But working with people for as long as she has made Carla confident in her ability to read people.

Granted, she didn't know much about Tommy except he was younger than Abby (older than Buck, clearly) and that their break up was amicable.

She thought he was a good looking guy, brown hair and blue eyes. Abby clearly had a type since Tommy was as tall as Buck, buffer slightly (what did he do for work?) And they both styled their hair similarly. Not to mention, Tommy's eyes were blue too, darker in color and sadder somehow.

She would have figured Tommy and or Buck would be a bit possessive or jealous about Abby.

But she oddly wasn't getting that vibe.

"Tommy, this is Evan Buckley, but you can call him Buck." Abby said cheerfully.

It was like watching....something unfold.

She could see Tommy’s eyes light up, a hint of a smile pulling up at the corners of his lips as he shook Buck's hand. "It's nice to meet you Evan."

Buck looked oddly...star struck?

She quirked her head to the side as she noticed Buck dry swallow, "Y-You can call me Evan."

Tommy's chuckle had Buck turning pink all over, making his birthmark seem even redder as Tommy told him. "I just did."

Matthew sided up to her, watching their introduction seemed as perplexing to him as it was to her.

"Right." Buck laughed as he took his hand back, "Right." Carla didn't miss how Buck wiped his palm on the side of his pants, the flush only deepening when Tommy asked, "I take it you're part of the family?"

Abby laughed this time, "No,no, Buck's not related. We're-" she took a deep breath as she grabbed the hand that Buck had used to shake Tommy's hand. "Dating."

"Oh."

Carla felt Mathew bump his shoulder into hers. There was no way Abby didn't see the look of disappointment on Tommy's face there.

"Is that okay?" Abby asked, unsure but knowing in a way that made Carla a little concerned.

"Of course." Tommy seemed quick to fix his face, standing up straighter as his eyes lingered on Buck in a too quick moment that Carla barely caught. "Of course." He said firmly, this time with a smile and patting Abby's arm supportively. "I'm glad you have so many people to support you. It's nice when you have family that has your back."

There definitely was a story there.

Carla didn't miss those sad eyes getting sadder.

And neither did Buck.

"I'm sure Abby is glad to have your support too. I don't know of a lot of exes that would send their ex flowers." Buck gave Tommy a smile that lit up his face, almost as though he was impressed by the guy. "You really go all in, huh." He laughed in good humor, causing Tommy to look down with a small smile of his own.

He almost looked like he was blushing himself.

"I'm not a great ex or anything, I just wanted to check in on Abby."

Buck shrugged, still looking at Tommy in awe. "Still better than any of my exes."

"Tommy is a special ex." Abby declared, running her hand up and down Tommy's arm.

(Yeah, Carla didn't miss Tommy wincing there and looking at Buck)

"You are a sweetheart, you know that right?" Abby asked, not giving Tommy time enough to react or answer before going, "Hey! You know, this is perfect timing because Buck here is a firefighter too."

Buck and Tommy were taken back by that. "You're a firefighter too?" Buck asked excitedly.

Tommy shrugged, seemingly playing coy as he replied "Firefighter pilot really."

Buck's eyes lit up with even more excitement, "No way! That's so cool! You're like a superhero or something."

That had Tommy rubbing the back of his neck in clear discomfort, "Or something." He muttered, but that didn't Buck from asking a bunch of questions about being a firefighter pilot.

Carla thought it was sweet that Tommy and Buck were getting along, clearly Buck had taken a liking to Tommy quickly.

Quick enough that Abby was looking annoyed now.

"Buck." Abby cleared her throat, throwing an apologetic look towards Tommy. "I'm sure Tommy has better things to do on his off day than talk about work."

Before Buck has the chance to become disappointed at that Tommy shook his head, all smiles as he told Buck. "Actually I really don't have anything better to do." He finally looked around the room, noticing the boxes and stacks of Patricia's belongings. "But I can see you guys do." He gave Abby a sheepish smile, "I didn't mean to over step."

"No, no." Abby waved him off, "You didn't, it was nice. It really means a lot that you showed up...it's just-"

"I know. I should get out of your hair." Tommy and Abby shared a small smile and laugh, clearly it was a inside joke. He nodded towards Carla and Matthew, "It was nice meeting you two." He turned to Buck, his smile a hit different. Carla could see something there. Even the way Tommy held himself was different when he spoke to Buck. "It was really nice meeting you too, Evan." He stuck out his hand for Buck to shake.

"Yeah- yeah. Y-you too." Buck fumbled, earning a playful smile from Tommy.

Before the latter opened the door, Buck suddenly went, "I should get your number."

Carla needed popcorn for this now.

Tommy looked at him questioningly, a confused but ghost of a smile there as he looked towards Buck for clarification.

Buck could feel all eyes on him now, he looked at Abby and then at Carla and Matthew before turning to look at Tommy again. "Y’know...for firefighting... stuff." He stammered, he shook his head and held his chin higher, a bit proud of himself as he told Tommy "I'm a probie so it would be great to talk to you. Maybe get some pointers?"

Tommy shook his head as he laughed, head tilted up and eyes finally bright as he told Buck. "Of course." And pulled out his cellphone as Buck did the same.

"I'll call you? Maybe we can set up a time for your to tour the harbor?"

Buck sighed in relief, his smile matching Tommy's as he told him "I would love that."

Tommy nodded , patting Buck's arm as the other man held his wrist momentarily. "We'll talk soon then Evan. Bye."

"Bye Tommy."

Once Tommy was out and the door was closed, Buck was right back at Abbys side. "Tommy seems so cool!"

"Yeah, he is." Abby confirmed, not looking bothered at all that her current boyfriend and ex were chummy now. "I'm glad you two seem to like each other."

"What's not to like? Tommy seems really interesting." Buck looked back at the door, his eyes falling back to the boxes. "Was there anything else in your room that belonged to your mom that you wanted me to move?"

While Abby gave Buck a list of things to grab, Matthew could only ask Carla "Is he always like that with people?" Referring to Buck

Carla shook her head "No." Granted, she didn't know Buck for too long but Buck always struck her as the jealous and insecure type when it came to Abby.

But he seemed opened and even excited about Tommy.

Even before knowing that Tommy was a firefighter too.

(Abby really had a type.)

"Guess Tommy is just so cool." Carla joked, realizing the joke fell flat as Matthew still looked at Buck with a studious expression. "What? What do you think it is?" She asked.

Matthew became all smiles and coy himself, "I don't know yet."

[lightdancingwords]

Second Chances - Part Eight of ?

Pairings: Beau Arlen x Y/N Female reader Series Summary: A chance meeting in a grocery store brings a second chance for you and for Beau. The only thing standing in your way are your respective pasts... and a tiny little roadblock. Word Count: 3,040 Tags/Warnings: Not really. Other than mention of injury, recovery in a hospital, and of course, toddler, parent/family. A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! I couldn't resist--I gotta have me some Beau while writing Dean! This is a brand new story of Beau and female reader! Divider: credit to @sweetmelodygraphics

Chapter Eight: Aftermath

Beau swung his legs off the hospital bed slowly, a sharp tug of pain pulling at his side. His hand instinctively moved to his stomach, his fingers brushing against the edge of the bandage beneath his shirt. He winced but forced a small smile in Y/N’s direction as she stood by, watching him with a mixture of concern and readiness to help.

“Easy there, cowboy,” she murmured, stepping closer. “You don’t have to rush.”

Beau grunted, sitting upright fully and gripping the bed rail for support. “If I move any slower, darlin’, I’ll fossilize right here.”

Y/N’s lips twitched, but her amusement was fleeting. She placed a hand on his arm, her touch steadying. “You’re not in this alone, Beau. Lean on me, okay?”

Her words carried more than just their immediate meaning, and Beau looked up at her, his green eyes softening. “I know,” he said quietly. “Thanks, darlin’.”

A nurse appeared at the doorway, carrying a clipboard and Beau’s discharge papers. “Sheriff Arlen,” she began with a friendly but professional tone, “we’re all set. Just make sure to follow these instructions to the letter, alright? No heavy lifting, lots of rest, and keep an eye on that wound for any signs of infection. And if you have even the slightest concern, call us.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Beau replied with a faint grin, though the weight of the restrictions gnawed at him. “No rodeo stunts. Got it.”

Y/N chuckled, taking the clipboard from the nurse. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he behaves.”

The nurse smiled knowingly. “Good. He’s lucky to have you.” She handed Beau a plastic bag containing a few essentials from his stay—a water bottle, the socks they gave him, and his wallet. “Take care, Sheriff.”

Beau gave a small nod, though he leaned heavily on Y/N as he stood, his strength not what it usually was. She wrapped an arm around his waist, careful not to press against his injury. “Alright, big guy,” she said softly. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Beau sighed heavily as the nurse wheeled him down the hospital hallway, the faint squeak of the wheelchair’s wheels echoing in the otherwise quiet space. Hospital policy, they said. Nobody walks out of recovery under their own power. He supposed it made sense, but that didn’t make it any less humiliating.

“Darlin’, you sure this is necessary?” he grumbled, glancing up at Y/N, who walked alongside him.

She shot him a look, her lips twitching with suppressed amusement. “It’s policy, Beau. Besides, I think you look rather distinguished.”

“Distinguished, huh?” He snorted, shaking his head. “More like decrepit.”

The nurse chuckled behind him. “It’s better than falling in the parking lot. Let’s save your dignity, Sheriff.”

Beau muttered something under his breath but didn’t argue further. He adjusted the strap of the duffle bag Y/N had slung over the wheelchair’s handles. She’d gone to his place earlier that day, gathering essentials for his stay at her home—a task he hadn’t been thrilled about but couldn’t bring himself to argue against.

“You got everything I need in there?” he asked, glancing back at her.

“Shirt, jeans, socks, your favorite flannel, deodorant, your bath stuff, and a toothbrush,” Y/N listed off. “Oh, and I grabbed your boots, too. Hope you don’t mind, but I might’ve done a little cleaning while I was there. I couldn’t help myself.”

Beau raised a brow. “Cleanin’? What’d you do?”

“Just tidied up. Tossed some expired food in the fridge. Nothing major,” she said, shrugging. “I thought you might appreciate coming home to less of a mess when you’re feeling better.”

He smiled faintly, the warmth of her thoughtfulness easing the sting of his current predicament. “Thanks, darlin’. I appreciate it.”

The nurse stopped at the automatic doors leading to the hospital parking lot. Y/N moved ahead, pulling open the passenger door of her car and adjusting the seat to make it easier for Beau to climb in. She returned to the wheelchair just as the nurse set the brakes.

“Alright, Sheriff,” the nurse said, her tone friendly but firm. “Slow and steady. Don’t push it.”

“I hear ya,” Beau replied, gripping the armrests as he began to stand. Pain lanced through his abdomen, sharp and immediate, but he bit back the grunt that rose in his throat. Y/N was instantly at his side, one hand on his arm, the other lightly resting on his back.

“Easy,” she murmured, her voice soft but steady. “We’re not in a hurry.”

He leaned into her support, taking the short steps to the car with care. Once he was seated, she buckled him in, her movements efficient but gentle. “Comfy?” she asked, tilting her head to meet his eyes.

“As comfy as I’m gonna get,” he said, a faint grin tugging at his lips.

Y/N kissed his forehead briefly before closing the door and moving to speak with the nurse. Beau watched her through the window, her focus sharp and determined as she listened to the nurse’s parting instructions. She really was something else—fierce and kind, with a quiet strength that had him falling for her harder every day.

When she slid into the driver’s seat, she glanced at him. “Ready to go home?”

“Darlin’,” he said, his voice soft, “I think I’ve already found home.”

She smiled, her cheeks flushing as she started the car. The ride back to her house was quiet, the hum of the engine soothing as the late afternoon sun bathed the Montana landscape in golden light. Y/N had turned the radio to a low volume, the gentle strumming of a country ballad filling the space between them.

When they pulled into her driveway, Y/N wasted no time coming around to help him out of the car. Despite the pain and the limitations of his condition, Beau couldn’t help but feel a swell of gratitude as she supported him. She was taking him in, making him a part of her world—and he’d never felt more cared for.

As they approached the front door, Y/N glanced at him with a teasing smile. “Ready to meet Nurse Eliza?”

Beau chuckled, his hand brushing against hers. “Darlin’, I think I’m gonna be the luckiest patient she’s ever had.”

Beau’s boots scuffed lightly against the hardwood as Y/N helped him into the house, the faint scent of lavender and something freshly baked welcoming him. He straightened slightly, his hand still resting lightly on her arm, and let his gaze sweep the cozy space. It was warm, inviting, and unmistakably hers—soft blankets draped over the couch, a basket of Eliza’s toys tucked neatly in the corner, and a vase of fresh flowers on the kitchen counter.

Y/N’s mother, Margaret, looked up from where she was sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of tea in her hand. Eliza was seated in her high chair nearby, happily munching on bits of cut-up fruit. The little girl’s face lit up when she saw Beau.

“Bo-Bo!” Eliza squealed, her tiny fists waving in excitement.

Beau grinned, his heart swelling despite the ache in his stomach. “Hey there, wolf-child,” he greeted softly. He glanced at Margaret, tipping his hat—or what would’ve been his hat if he weren’t recovering. “Ma’am.”

Margaret rose, her sharp eyes sweeping over him with an appraising look. “Sheriff Arlen,” she said warmly. “Glad to see you on your feet. Though I hear you’re supposed to stay off them as much as possible.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Beau replied, his voice tinged with humor. “You and Y/N have got me outnumbered on that front.”

Margaret smiled knowingly, gesturing to the couch. “Why don’t you sit down before you overdo it?”

Beau nodded, letting Y/N guide him to the couch. As soon as he was settled, Eliza started wiggling in her high chair, clearly eager to get to him.

“Hold your horses, darlin’,” Beau said gently. “Doctor says no heavy lifting, remember?”

Eliza frowned, her little brows knitting together in frustration, but she settled when Y/N scooped her up and brought her over. Sitting on her mother’s lap, Eliza reached out to pat Beau’s arm.

“Bo-Bo better?” she asked, her voice full of concern.

Beau’s grin softened. “Workin’ on it, kiddo. You just keep being my nurse, and I’ll be good as new.”

Margaret chuckled from the kitchen. “She’s been talking about you all day,” she said, pouring another cup of tea. “You’ve made quite the impression.”

Beau leaned back against the cushions, his smile widening. “Well, she’s got a way of makin’ herself unforgettable.”

Y/N sat down beside him, Eliza still in her lap, and gave him a knowing look. “She gets it from her mom.”

He chuckled, his hand brushing lightly against hers where it rested on the armrest. The brief touch was enough to send a warm pulse through him—a reminder of all they’d shared over the past few days.

They’d agreed earlier the morning after his surgery, during a quiet moment in his hospital room, to put the question of marriage on hold. There was already so much to process—his recovery, her pregnancy, and the whirlwind of emotions that had come with their declarations of love. He didn’t want to pressure her, and she didn’t want to make a decision with so much still unsettled.

“You’re sure you’re okay with waiting?” she’d asked him, her voice hesitant but hopeful.

“Darlin’,” he’d said, taking her hand in his. “The last thing I want is to make you feel rushed or overwhelmed. We’ve got all the time in the world. As long as we’re together, that’s what matters.”

Now, sitting in her home, surrounded by the life she’d built, Beau felt that truth settle even deeper. He had no doubts about wanting to spend his life with her, but he also knew that patience was its own kind of love—a willingness to give her the space she needed.

Margaret approached, setting a plate of cookies on the coffee table. “You’ll stay here while you recover,” she said matter-of-factly, though her tone was warm. “Y/N’s already got everything set up, and I’ll help with Eliza as long as you need.”

Beau tipped his head. “Thank you, ma’am. Means a lot.”

Margaret smiled, her sharp gaze softening. “You’re family now, Beau. That’s what we do.”

The words settled over him, bringing with them a sense of belonging he hadn’t felt in years. He glanced at Y/N, whose lips curved into a soft smile, her eyes meeting his with a quiet understanding.

“Looks like you’re stuck with us,” she teased lightly, though her voice carried a note of something deeper.

“Darlin’,” Beau replied, his voice low and full of warmth, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Eliza babbled something incomprehensible, her tiny hand reaching out to pat his arm again. Beau chuckled, his free hand covering hers as he leaned back into the couch, content for the first time in a long while.

Whatever challenges lay ahead, he knew they’d face them together. And for now, that was more than enough.

While Beau was resting in bed, the combination of pain killers and recovery wearing him out, Y/N was preparing dinner while her mother tended to Eliza. As she was chopping up vegetables for beef stew, Margaret kept glancing over at Y/N.

“Out with it, little girl,” Margaret said at last. She knew her daughter well, well enough to know something was bothering her.

Y/N sighed, her hand stilling for a moment. “I’m pregnant,” she said at last.

Margaret straightened, and Eliza began bonking toys together, enjoying the chaos of smashing pretend buildings. “Oh.”

Y/N cringed. She knew that tone. “We… we were careful, mom. Doubly careful. But it still happened anyway.”

“I didn’t say anything, Y/N,” her mother said gently.

She let out a breath. “I’m sorry, mom.” She turned to face her mother, tears shimmering in her eyes. “It’s just…” She cleared her throat. “I’m scared. So much has happened. Beau knows and he’s over the moon, but I’m scared.”

“Didn’t you tell me he proposed?” Margaret asked, trying to get to the root of her daughter’s fears.

“Yes. A-and…” Y/N pressed a hand to her chest, feeling her heart ache. “I love him. He loves me. So I don’t… I don’t know why I’m so scared.”

“Y/N,” Margaret said softly, motherly, pulling Y/N into a comforting hug. “You just had a lot dumped on you at once. You just discovered you were pregnant and Beau was shot the same day. Not 24 hours later, you two told each other your I love yous and then he proposed. You barely had a chance to process everything.”

Y/N let out a stifled sob and clung to her mother. Y/N might have been an adult, a mother herself, but in that moment, she was so glad she had her mother to lean on. “I thought I was going to lose him,” she whispered, her voice tinged with tears. “When I got that phone call… oh God, mom…”

“You have your second chance, my darling girl. He’s alive. He loves you. He wants to be your husband, father to your children. He adores Eliza.”

“I wasn’t prepared to start dating again,” Y/N whispered, her tears beginning to stop. She wiped them away and reluctantly pulled out of her mother’s embrace. “And then he just… God, mom. When I met him, he just walked right in and stole my heart when I wasn’t looking.”

“You told me he asked you for permission to approach Eliza,” Margaret said, phrasing as a question.

“Yeah, he did.”

“And you said he asked you permission to kiss you. Several times.”

“Yeah…” Y/N breathed, her heart swelling with love as she remembered those moments. “He did.”

“And when you told him you were pregnant… how did he react?”

Y/N thought back to that moment, the slow joy that spread over his face. “He was happy.”

Margaret regarded her daughter for a long moment, hands on her shoulders. “Y/N, my dear, my darling daughter… do you love that man?”

There was a rush of emotion, a swelling of her heart. “God yes, I do.”

“Then, Y/N,” Margaret said, gently touching her daughter’s cheek. “Go tell him.”

“But— Dinner—”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Margaret scooped up Eliza and put her back in the high chair before handing the toddler some toys to keep her busy. “I’ll take over. Go.” Margaret nudged Y/N with her hip. “Take as long as you need.”

Y/N glanced at her mother, gave Margaret a fierce hug, and then went to the bedroom, to talk to the man she loved.

Beau had been napping. Despite the ache of his stomach wound, he managed to doze for a little while. When he heard the door creak open, it stirred him out of his rest. He made a low sound, squinted against the light.

“Darlin’?”

“Yes, it’s me,” she said quietly, closing the door behind her. She headed over to him and sat at the edge of the bed. “How do you feel?”

“I’ll be okay,” he murmured, reaching to take her hand. “You’re here.”

He dimly saw her smile. “Charmer.”

“I mean it, darlin’,” he said, his voice low and soft. “This? It don’t get any better than this.”

“It can, though,” she said, her voice shaky.

He furrowed his brow. “Darlin’?”

“Beau… ask me again,” she urged.

It took him a moment to realize what she was saying. “Let me…” Beau tried to sit up, grimaced, and laid back down. “Shit, darlin’, I can’t ask you lyin’ down.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Darlin’.” His firm tone stopped her. “Let me ask ya the way I want to… please.”

She nodded, reached to help him sit up. His stomach was killing him when he was finally sitting up, pain vibrating throughout his core. He felt sweat bead on his forehead and he was breathing heavily. Y/N regarded him with concern in her gaze.

“I’m all right, darlin’,” he said at last, touching her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. His heart skipped a beat. God, he loved her so much. “Ya know… it was how you handled your daughter that day in the grocery store.”

“What about it?” she asked, puzzled.

“That got me to fall in love with you,” he said, his voice low and steady.

“Beau.” Her breath caught in the whisper of his name.

“It was. The remark about her havin’ her own wolf pack, being a wolf-child,” he continued. “God, it just killed me. I remembered thinkin’… here’s a momma that cared about her kid. Loved her kid. And I respected that so much.”

“You were in love with me even then?”

“It was the beginnin’,” he confirmed. “And every time I saw you… I just knew. God, darlin’, I just knew.”

He saw tears form in her eyes, shimmering. “Darlin’, don’t cry…”

“N-no. I’m not… I’m not upset.” She let out a half-laugh, emotional. “God, Beau Arlen, you just make it impossible not to fall in love with you all over again.”

Beau reached to brush away a tear with his thumb. “I love you so much, darlin’. You and Eliza… I wanna make ya mine.” He searched her eyes, his green ones full of love. “Y/N… will ya make me the luckiest man alive and be my wife? Be the mother of my children? Be the love of my life?”

Y/N let out a teary sound and nodded, her smile wide and overjoyed. “Yes. Yes, yes, yes!”

He pulled her into a fierce embrace, holding her close as he felt his emotions overwhelm. “God, darlin’, I love you so damned much.” He kissed her, sweet and tender, and whispered to her lips, “And once the doctor clears me for it, darlin’… I’m gonna show you. I’m goin’ make love to you all day, I swear.”

She let out a laugh, tinged with happy tears. “Beau… that’s not necessary. I know you love me. I know you love us.”

“I do, darlin’,” he said, placing a hand over her stomach, imagining the little life growing inside her. “The family you’re givin’ me. The family we’re gonna make together. I love you.”

Tag List: @spxideyver, @deadlymistletoe, @bitchykittenconnoisseur, @aarpfashionvictim, @stoneyggirl2

@foxyjwls007, @katastrophicmind, @globetrotter28, @deansimpalababy, @daisychaingirl

@nancymcl, @deans-baby-momma, @kickingitwithkirk

Want to be a part of this tag list or others? Come check out my master Tag List and sign up! And check out my other stories that are currently being written!

[bingbuang]

My venture overwatch hc's ♡

Alr first off these are my fanon headcanons, so they're only my opinion. These are also very random, so just bare with me lmao

Bro is an absolute fucking BEEFCAKE. Like, I'm talking Zarya buff. They just have a sleeper build under all those layers.

Speaking of layers, they are ALWAYS hot. They're used to it, though, and generally pretty sweaty, but it doesn't bother them. This is also why they eat ice cream so much.

While underground and by themselves, they have a habit of taking off their sweater if they get too hot. They know they probably shouldn't because of falling rubble, getting scrapes, but they insist it's fine.

They have some ROUGH ass hands. They're touching rocks all day, holding that drill, and yeah, ik they have gloves on, but still.

They have pica. Pica is kind of an eating disorder where you have urges to eat non-edible things like ice, chalk, *cough cough* rocks. They don't just eat rocks, they love chewing on everything and anything. Give them a pen for 5 minutes, and you probably won't want it back.

They are autistic. Look me in the eyes and tell me bro isn't autistic. Their stims are (stereotypically) arm flapping, and tapping on stuff rhythmically. This isn't really a stim, but they like fidgeting with their eyebrow piercing.

They regularly make themselves sick by consuming only ice cream, rocks, ice, and occasionally paper. Their teammates have had to put their paper in very obscure places, like under someone's bed, or on top of the fridge, because Venture keeps eating it.

they are pansexual, and don't have a preference. They also are completely oblivious to being hit on.

They can sleep everywhere, and anywhere. The floor, a cave, or on top of a rock (their favorite obv).

Sometimes while on expeditions to bring artifacts to museums, they forget what they were supposed to be doing, and grab cool rocks. I imagine they have a sack they carry around, and just toss in cool rocks whenever they see them.

They love Star wars. You put that on the TV, and they're staring like a 4 year old. They like it less for the plot, and more for the cool effects.

They have a gyatt. That's it tbh

sometimes they switch Spanish and English mid sentence when they forget a word or their brain just goes a little too fast. "Hey guys, que haces hoy? Estaba pensando we could ir a la restaurante Chinese" or sm

They're really good at dancing + very flexible. They've gotten flexible from having to worm into tight spaces at the wayfinders society, because most of their other workers are bigger.

They don't drink, because they think most alcohol is too bitter. They prefer savory things.

They used to smoke when they first started at way finders at 16, as they weren't as eccentric and loud as they are now. Because of this, they got a little pressured and started doing that. Then they eventually stopped after joining overwatch.

They are down bad for Brigitte. They don't know what it is, but they can't help but want to be by her. That's why they're so polite to Torbjörn, tryna have a good impression.

They have an EXTREMELY high pain tolerance, sometimes not even noticing injuries (like chipping their tooth.) one time they broke their nose and the next day they were like 'man my nose is stuffed or sm'

They have an unspoken hatred for Kiriko. They try to be nice, they try to be polite, they try to be funny, but they get kinda pissed. You'll understand if you know the interaction like K: 'I like your nickname, who gave it to you' V: 'oh I did' K: 'isn't that tacky' V: 'lmao yeah' like kiriko stfu at least they were creative you literally used ur name (I don't like kiriko either tbh)

They LOVE big dogs. Like pitbulls. They need all the puppies. All. Of. Them.

You'd think being literally INSIDE the earth would get them used to insects? Partially true. HOWEVER. Millipedes and Centipedes freak them the hell out. Hate them. They don't mind spiders, snakes (ik they're reptiles but still) scorpions, etc. but not centipedes. they will scream. They're not exactly scared, they're just severely disgusted.

While underground drilling, they have the weirdest music taste. They don't care about playlists, they'll have Rob Zombie and then Taylor Swift. They're not a swiftie (thank god) but they can enjoy some of her older songs. And lots and lots and lots of old Spanish music.

They speak a little Mandarin, as they have canonically lived in Singapore before. They're not the greatest, but they can get a point along. They like to talk to Mei sometimes in Mandarin, and they listen to Chinese music together. :)

Juno and Venture are BESTIES. I might make a small short story about them meeting idk lol. Venture was like 'sigh if only I could have a mars rock' and Juno was like 'i got you 😎' and Venture returns the favor by showing them cool rocks, landmarks, etc.

Venture gives very good hugs. They have super strong arms, and they have lots of layers, which tends to make them a little squishy. They're also very warm, which makes it better.

That's all for now love y'all <3

[housewasp]

Spinning frames!

This is a big post that will include all of the warframes and Hex members spinning as a group and separately. If you want to use these as emotes or whatever, go ahead. You have my blessing as long as you provide credit. At the very end of this post will be a write up about this project and what I'll be working on in the future. Read more to see them frames spin!

Project write up

I started this project because I find things spinning funny. I was going to just make Excalibur spin. Then I did the starters, and then I said, "Just do all the frames and Hex." Now here we are nearly a month later with everyone spinning. Style wise I started staring at Earthbound/Mother sprites. I wanted a reference that was the right size (32x32px) and cute. That fit the bill. The biggest challenge that cropped up had to be learning what details to keep and what needed to be simplified. This came up with the Hex and cyte-09 the most. Detail is great, but at this scale little details can add too much noise. For example, I was trying to decide on two straps or three straps for Arthur. Three straps was correct to the character, but caused this banding that I didn't love. I ended up looking at the in-game Arthur floof to help me. Lo and behold, two straps was the answer. My main lesson from this had to be tracking pixel clusters. I haven't done a lot of pixel art animation. And the animations I have done never had the characters rotating to this degree. Keeping track of the pixel clusters was a big deal. Frames of "off" clusters could throw the spin off. Are all of these sprites perfect? No. Haha. Not at all. I did try my best, but perfection isn't a burden I'll carry. I did go back as I gained experience to make corrections to previous sprites. But for now, these are the final versions.

What am I doing next?

Am I going to make more of these spinning frames? Prime versions? Umbra? Future protoframes (if the DE makes more)? What about the other frames? Short answer? No. Long answer. I might make other spinning frames of my favorite warframes, but I'm not going to promise anything. If I make more I make more, but don't expect more. I guess if I do commissions in the future I might include that as an option. But don't go waltzing in asking for me to spin your bubble gum pink rhino prime. Where do I go from here? I have a few more warframe fan art stuff planned. There's this portrait of Qorvex I'd like to do. But from here you'll probably see more original work in addition to fan art. Oh and maybe some writing too! If you read this, Wow. Thanks? I hope these spinning frames brought you as much joy I had in making them. -HouseWasp

[kkpaaw]

Jay as a Animal Crossing character!

I'm back at it again with the bullshit. turning the ninja into random stuff and this time its Animal Crossing characters!

Here we have Jay who is a Special Villager, all the ninja will be, so he's not one you can invite to live on your island, but he does have some use that I thought waaaaaaay to long and hard about.

His species is a dog but since he's a special villager I didn't have him follow the dog villager mold. He's wearing a simplified version of the outfit I throw him in usually and the light bolt just shows his connection to his og total of ninja of lightning even if in ac he was never one.

His left eye is cloudy blue with a (X) to show his blindness!

Now let's talk about his purpose

_____

- Oh hi! Nice to meet you! My name is Jay and I couldn't help but noticed the nice furniture you have around here! It's so nice and inspiring! You know? I make furniture too! But I make it using trash!

Hey don't give me that look! Trash can be very helpful as I'm sure you have seen with the few recipies i see you have! People are so careless with their trash and don't think about the endless possibilities with it! Well not me! My ma and pa taught me that anything can be put to use.

I used to doubt that too ya know. I mean trash?! That stuff should be thrown away yea. I would know I lived in a junkyard heh. But my pa used the trash In that place to make so many cool things and proved to me that you don't need fancy new tech wear to make cool things! With only a few pieces of trash you can make nearly anything!

....

Heh sorry i got carried away.. As you can see I'm a bit of a yapper. Kai tends to say i talk too much but bah what does he know! Zane says he likes my chatter! And besides, he can be as much of a chatter box as I can especially when he talks about himself!

Anyway, back on topic, I make things using trash. So if you have any trash on you I'll buy it off you! Orrr you can commission me to make you some furniture too! For a small price of course.~"

- Jay, Animal Crossing New Horizons

_______

Jay can be found wandering around your island admiring any furniture u have placed down or architecture. If u approach him he'll start his chatter.

He'll buy any item deemed as trash in the game (old tires, boots, cans) for about 200 bells each. So u can make slightly more money selling your trash to him over nooks cranny.

OR

You can commission him to turn them into actual furniture, and send them to you via mail that you can then use!

And I'm not talking just the furniture you can already craft with trash In the game I'm talking other types of furniture outside of that! The amount of items he'll send you depends on the amount of trash u give him and he will ask you for any preferences to furniture just so u have a higher likely of getting an item you'll actually use.

He'll need 3 pieces of trash per one item and it doesn't matter which piece of trash u can mix and match em. To get the max amount of items which is 5 u need to give him 15 pieces of trash.

He will then deliver them to you once per day starting the very next day

So he's a good way to get extra items as well as a way to reuse your trash in a way that will be more beneficial to you!

----

He will show up anywhere from once a month to 4 times in a month, but never more than once a week

All the ninja in ac work as a unit and as such are associated with eachtoher and will talk about another when they visit

Jay is always the first one to show up, as he's the one to talk the others into visiting.

He will mention one or two of the other ninja randomly in his chatter, which will give u a hint as to which of them will show up next month. Each ninja will show up in a given month and which ninja is next will be randomized, but your hint will always be between which ninja is mentioned by whoever has visited you. It will never repeat until all the ninja have visited you in which case its then randomized who shows up next.

____

I put too much thought into this plz save me

[frog-necromancer]

Betting on a Losing Dog

Masterlist

Read on Ao3

Chapter 6: Till death do us part

Logan/fem!reader

Summary: An improvised (very soft and sweet) wedding before everything goes to shit. Oh and some angst of course. (Begging you on my hands and knees to leave comments please please please I love you)

Chapter: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7

Tags:

#drug abuse and addiction #swearing #angst #anger issues #main character death (it’s Logan sorry babes) #fluff and smut #kissing #alcohol abuse  #graphic description of violence and injuries #heavy angst #biting #thigh riding #oral (f receiving) #p in v sex #unprotected sex (wrap it up)  #attempt at humor #spending time as a family #intrusive thoughts #some gore #hurt no comfort (maybe a little comfort) #found family #marriage!?!! #self harm (skin picking) #throwing up #depression  #smoking #references to Christianity and religion #video game references #road trip

Till death do us part

The following day was a hazy blur. Neither F/N nor Logan spoke a lot, only a few words here and there and Laura stayed mostly quiet too. Sometimes she would throw out profanities in Spanish. Or at least F/N thought that they were. (If you speak spanish I’m sorry…)

Hours blurred together and F/N couldn't tell how much time had actually passed. It couldn't have been more than a day, she thought. It hadn't been night, right? Last thing she knew was that it would take two more days, but she didn't know how long ago that was.

Logan didn't take breaks, his gaze fixed on the road, but F/N could see his eyes fluttering from time to time. She was worried, but her mind was too hazy to do something about it. She felt terrible to numb herself at a time like this. At a time where Laura and Logan needed her. Logan hadn't changed, but neither had she. 

It must have been about a day when they passed an old chapel at the side of the dusty road. The building had seen better days, with a rotting facade and a couple of dirty broken windows. The once clean white paint was beginning to chip from the wood, making the building look almost moldy. 

“I…I want to light a candle…for Charles and the family and…and the others.”, F/N spoke, voice quiet and rough from not speaking for so long. She could see that Logan wanted to protest, to argue that they needed to keep driving, but she could also see how tired he actually was. “Since when do you believe in that stuff?”, He mumbled roughly, but there was no actual snark to his voice. F/N paused, did she believe in that stuff? Did she actually believe that lighting a candle would do anything but be a fire hazard? 

Probably not. 

But Kurt believed it with his whole heart. 

He would have done the same for her. And she had been putting this off for way too long. 

It didn't actually matter: “I don't know. But I want to do it” (Guys listen I'm an atheist that grew up Christian. I'm just leaning into the whole Christianity allegory. Please don't be offended!) Logan let out a little huff, tired eyes fixed to the dusty road ahead and for a moment F/N thought he wouldn't stop. That he’d keep ignoring her. 

But then he turned the wheel and a moment later the pick-up stopped just in front of the rundown chapel. 

“Make it quick.”, Logan muttered, resting his head on the wheel. F/N nodded, jumping out of the car. Her steps were a little unsteady but she would manage. Laura got out too. F/N sent her a gentle look, eyes just the tiniest bit teary: “let's pick some flowers for” She paused, who were these flowers for? For Charles? For Kurt? For the Munsons? “For everyone we've lost, alright?”, She finally spoke. Laura nodded softly. 

—

A few minutes later they both were holding a bouquet of wild flowers they had each picked. Laura's was a little smaller, but she looked very proud as she held it high to compare it to F/N's. They both were colorful and pretty in their own way. 

The mood was solemn, but at the sight of Laura sniffing the beautiful flowers, F/N couldn't help but smile. It was a sad and tired smile but a smile nonetheless.

“It's perfect Laura.”, she spoke with her hoarse voice: “Let's see if we can get into that chapel.” Laura nodded, rushing over to the double doors of the dusty building. F/N pushed against the wooden door, but there was a big metal lock blocking it. “It's locked.”, She sighed softly. 

Laura looked up at her, determination sparkling in her fierce brown eyes: “No! No!” She shook her head quickly, and before F/N could stop her or protest, Laura had extended her claws and cut down the lock, sparks flying as she cut through the metal. She grinned up at F/N who was not in the mood to lecture her about damaging other’s property. Instead she gently ruffled her head. “Thank you, Laura.”, She murmured, finally pushing the old doors open. 

The rusty hinges squeaked and dust danced in light that flooded through the dirty windows. It smelled of mold and dust, but the place had a strangely calming atmosphere to it. 

Their steps echoed in the building, this place had definitely seen better days, but at the same time the small forgotten chapel had an almost cozy flair to it. 

“Let's put the flowers down for a moment, maybe we can find some old candles” Laura nodded, putting the flowers down on an old wooden bench.

In a dusty carton box behind the altar, F/N found some old tealight candles. They were a little damaged but they would do. 

—

F/N blew on the stone altar to remove some of the dust, she couldn’t hold back a small cough as she tried to make the area look somewhat nice and less like straight from an end of the world movie. 

There was an old wooden crucifix. The small Cross had fallen over and the head of the Jesus figurine had broken off. F/N carefully laid it down, balancing the head on the uneven wood to make it look somewhat tactful. It was a sad display, but she did what she could. This was for her friends. Even if no one listened. 

Maybe this was for herself too.

She placed the candles in the middle of the altar, pausing when she realised that she didn't have a lighter. She was about to break the news to Laura when she saw an outstretched hand holding a cheaper plastic lighter beside her. “Thank you Logan.”, She muttered quietly, reaching for the object. Logan grunted in return. She hadn't even noticed that he had left the car, too deep in thought as she prepared the altar.

Her hands were shaking as she tried to light the candles. Her fingers felt weak and sweaty but she needed to do this alone. Logan was aware of her determination. He wouldn't offer his help. And she silently was thankful for that.

A lonely small flame danced upon the altar. Wordlessly, F/N placed her bouquet at the foot of the stone table. And for a moment they were silent. 

“I- I'm sorry…Kurt…Charles…”, Her voice  was barely above a whisper and on the verge of breaking: “Morph…Jean…Ororo…” She had to pause, take in a shaky breath before she could continue: “I- I had years to think about what to say- I had a speech prepared that I thought I'd one day hold at your graves… but now…I can't remember a word.” She paused, taking in another shuddering breath and Logan was a little worried that she'd fall over. “I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry. I miss you all so so much”, she finally concluded, a lonely tear slipped down her cheek. Logan's eyes were burning, his heart heavy.

—

Silence filled the abandoned chapel, except for the occasional thud of Laura hitting the dilapidated wood benches with her foot claw, knocking out pieces of splintering wood. 

Logan had sat down next to her, head in his hands while F/N was still standing in front of the altar, head hung low.

“I-”, F/N finally broke the heavy silence, sighing softly. Laura was still holding onto her flowers, abusing the poor benches with her claw. “I always thought we would get married in a place like this” something between a sob and a laugh escaped her cracked lips at her little confession, it felt silly. 

She tasted blood.

Logan looked up at her in surprise, he hadn't expected her to bring up something like this. “Kurt wanted to officiate the wedding…bothered me about it for weeks…”, A teary smile had formed at the fond memory: “I told him it would never happen…” Laura had stopped kicking the bench.

“...but if it ever did, he would be the only one who I'd let perform the ceremony…”, She took in yet another a shaky breath, her throat felt raw and her eyes were burning.

“F/N”, she didn't turn around, she didn't think she could look at him right now without bursting into tears. Logan's voice was gravely yet incredibly gentle, filled with regret, pain and something like hope: “Would you…still like to get married?” He asked slowly, almost as if he was afraid of her answer. 

Finally F/N turned to him, her E/C eyes filled with surprise and anxiety: “Logan- this is not-” He stopped her: “How about right now?” Determination flashed through his hazel eyes. “Logan- I don't know- how much did you have to drink?” Logan shook his head, his voice firm yet filled with love: “Not enough to not know what I'm doing. Do you want to get married? Right now?” 

F/N blinked, her mind racing with possibilities: “Logan there's no one to perform the ceremony…” She began to weakly protest, but Logan was having none of her excuses: “It doesn't matter. You're here and I'm here and that's everyone that matters right now…no offence kid.” He sent Laura an apologetic look, the girl shrugged: “It's okay.”

F/N blinked rapidly, trying to get rid of the tears that sprang to her eyes yet again and make sense of her muddled mind: “I- Logan. I- I don't know what to say. I thought you didn't want to-” 

When she looked at Logan his eyes were filled with adoration and love and F/N knew right then and there that this was the right thing to do. Finally she nodded: “Yes, I want to.” her voice was barely above a whisper and Logan let out an audible sigh of relief.

“Let me do this the right way.”, He mumbled, awkward yet determined as he slowly got down on one knee. His bones hurt at the quick movement, although he would never admit it.

His hands dived into the pocket of his dirty jacket, fumbling with something before he finally pulled out a small black box made of plastic. “It's one I picked up at that one gasstation we held at …nothing fancy but-” he stopped himself, coughing awkwardly.

“F/N, would you like to marry me?”, He finally asked, his expression filled with careful hope, gazing into her glossy E/C eyes. They were so beautiful, so soft and filled with love. He could get lost in them. He wanted to so badly…

F/N nodded quickly, her hand shooting to her mouth, she couldn't believe this was actually happening, something between a sob and a gasp: “Fuck! Yes! Yes, Logan!” Was all she got out. Logan gently pulled her hand into his and slid the ring onto her finger. He had to suppress a frown at the picked skin around her nails. The F/C nailpolish had begun to chip off days ago. 

The ring was cheap and fit poorly, it was way too big for her, but at that moment F/N would have been happy with nothing. 

His hand in hers was everything she needed.

Logan pulled her into an embrace, pressing his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. He was smiling, tears at the corners of his eyes, this was a bittersweet moment. F/N didn't know whether to laugh or cry, she could hear Laura's quiet “Ew” but they both ignored it, too caught up in the ecstasy of the moment to care about anything.

“So…what now?” F/N asked as they loosened the hug. “We get married, of course”, Logan smiled faintly. It was obvious that F/N was still sceptical, but Logan gave her hands a reassuring squeeze: “Give us a moment, darling. How about you wait in the car.” F/N was about to protest but Logan sent her a stern look. He wanted to do this. For them. For her.

—

F/N was sitting in the car, knees pulled up to her chest, as she mindlessly played with the car window. Pushing it up and down and up again. 

They were in the middle of nowhere and she wondered who even built this church in the first place, there was nothing around it for miles and miles. Yet, she felt weirdly happy and excited, yet any moment she wasn't thinking about the present she was thinking about the past and future and the thought alone made a pit open up in her stomach. She felt like throwing up. 

—

An hour or two passed. She couldn't quite tell. Her phone had run out of battery a while ago. Too caught up in the moment to even care. 

A knock at the window pulled her from her thoughts. It was Laura, a crooked flower crown that looked dangerously close to falling apart adorned her dark head of hair. “You look pretty.”, F/N hummed, an automatic smile springing to her chapped lips. Laura nodded: “Logan made a crown for you too…” It was then that F/N noticed the second crown clutched in Laura's hands, made of the same flowers as hers. Maybe it wasn't exactly the prettiest, but it was the thought that counted. And that alone made F/N's heart swell with love. 

Laura grabbed F/N's hand, pulling her out of the car. “Down.”, She ordered, voice commanding and so much like Logan's. F/N kneeled down so that she could place the flowers on her head. 

Laura's hand found its way back into F/N's, pulling her along to the entrance of the chapel. She pushed the old doors open with ease, the wood creaked at the sudden movement. “Come in.” Laura said.

When F/N stepped inside, her eyes immediately fell on Logan in the front right before the altar. A single red flower in his unruly greying hair. That was definitely Laura's idea and he looked almost cute. 

His eyes were filled with adoration as F/N walked down the aisle, holding Laura's hand in hers. She was a little unsteady on her feet, taking slow steps. 

It was far from perfect but it was them. 

She came to a halt in front of him, a soft tender tugged at his lips, the gentle glow of the setting sun drew soft shadows on his rugged face. “F/N.”, he murmured, voice just as soft as his eyes. “Logan.”, Her face mirrored his and his heart skipped a beat. She looked exhausted and yet she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his way too long life. 

He cleared his throat, not quite sure where to start now that she was standing in front of him. He felt stupid all of a sudden, what the hell was he doing? Was was he thinking???

“I uhm wanted to look up wedding vows but my phone's dead so…”, He paused. 

“He had to pull it out of his ass.”, Laura helpfully added, and F/N couldn't help but chuckle softly, the first chuckle since Charles had died, Logan noted. 

“So…uhm yeah I- we had to improvise and I don't have another ring so uhm just imagine the ring exchange part…”, He cleared his throat again. Logan wasn't one to easily become nervous but right now he definitely was. He also hadn't had a drink since morning so that was probably another reason. 

Laura nodded, she had put on her little sunglasses for this for whatever reason. “You wanna marry her?”, She asked curtly. And F/N couldn't help but think about how Laura probably had never heard of weddings before, let alone knew what the ceremony looked like. 

Logan nodded softly, “Yes, I want to.” His voice was rough yet filled with a tenderness that was reserved for F/N alone. 

Laura nodded, sunglasses bobbing on her nose. She turned to F/N: “You want to marry the old mean man?” It was clear that Laura wasn't exactly saying what she and Logan probably had discussed earlier, that she was going off script, but Logan didn't say anything, simply giving her a look.

F/N hummed and nodded, E/C eyes filled with a mixture of exhaustion and anticipation. “I want to.” Laura nodded reverently, as if she was taking this very seriously: “Kiss. Kiss. Bésalo ahora” she exclaimed and Logan and F/N didn't need to be told twice as they fell into each other's arms. 

Their lips connected in a short yet loving kiss. Logan cupped her face, stroking his rough thumb over her cheek. “My wife”, He murmured, eyes filled with hope that F/N had thought was long gone and buried. “My husband”, Her voice mirrored her exhausted face but her eyes were filled with adoration. 

Maybe things would be alright. Of course both of them knew that they weren't technically married. That it was all just a farce. They had made a silent agreement to simply let it be. Who had even made the rules about what was marriage. 

Till death do us part, F/N thought.

Hand in hand they walked out of the church, with Laura throwing scratchy flowers at their heads. F/N felt absolutely exhausted and in the back of her mind played the memory of Charles’ death in a dreadful loop and yet in this very moment she couldn't help but smile. A genuine smile, laced with sorry and loss but a smile nonetheless.

[skeletwinsauaskbox]

the very cool epic post OK SO I SAW THIS POST UHHH HOW DID I NOT GET THAT NOTIF OH MY GOD THIS IS HUGE?? so, to show my support of this blog (hopefully), i thought of some new font stereotypes/looks! ------------------------------------------- (music for my little thing if you want to listen to some music as i think of stuff) Arial: Your average skeleton. Has a regular human-like skeleton, and isn't that outstanding. The most outstanding thing about this font type is the sheer amount. It is the most common type of skeleton. Garamond: A skeleton with a high amount of elegance, willing to be as helpful as possible, but not be as energetic as a Papyrus Font or a UPPERCASER. Futura: One of the first, sleek, and very rare skeletons. 1927 in human years, this type of font has been one of the oldest of this type, and is now also the most common. Being a dominant gene, skeletons born as a Futura will pass on the gene. If one of the parents bear the Futura gene, it is most likely their child will also be a Futura. Futura is much more common than a average "modern" font-typed skeleton, at around 1/1 Million. GoodDog: A silly font, a sort of hybrid between a Papyrus and a Sans font. This font can be as tall as around a Papyrus, and as funny as a Sans, and can also be the other way around. For these type of fonts, their case is very important to determine if they are more energetic, or more sneaky. Windsong: A semi-rare font, known to be not particularly rare, but also not particularly common. These fonts are known for their immaculate hand writing, being able to write in swift, beautiful, almost hypnotizing motions. These font types are often found in library's, enjoying a well written book. FFF Tusj: A older font, being around mid-way the timeline inbetween the first font and Papyrus and Sans. This font always has some tie to Geography, being able to create maps, the age of their font allowing their ancestry to master map-making, being passed down generations. Sea Side Resort: Often found at beaches or seasides, this type of font is incredibly good at swimming, as their bodies have adapted to the Sea Side, generations of their kind serving at sea side resorts to please guests, and welcome them. ------------------------------------------- here's some new case ideas too: Proper: The most common type of case. This case is the regular way most things are written, written in the way I am writing it right now. For the font section, I will write it in the way of their case to give a example. Title: The Second Most Common Case, Being A Mix Of Lowercase And Uppercase, This Case Always Has A Uppercase Letter At The Beginning Of Their Word, Talking In The Way Of This Section. ------------------------------------------- ALRIGHT THATS IT IM SORRY I JUST NEEDED TO WRITE SOMETHING ABOUT IT I JUST IT WAS TOO PERFECT OK IM SORRY

(AU LORREEEE!!! SOMEONE GOT THE AU LORREEEE!!!)

[egophiliac]

(almost) four years in, and I finally had time to draw something for the anniversary! woo! 🎉🎉🎉

[icewindandboringhorror]

I've referenced before how I have a big google document to keep track of every media I've ever seen in my entire life (just for reference because I like to track everything possible lol… I am the Data Collector), but recently as I was updating it, I thought of actually evaluating them to find out random percentages (like for example, out of Total Shows Watched, what percentage did I finish vs. stop watching, what percentage did I like or dislike, etc.)...

Evaluating these things is made easier by the fact that I already place everything on each subsection of the list into 6 broad ranking categories, so I don't have to go back and guess to figure out how I feel about them or anything. The categories are: Ranking 5 - overall best* (despite some criticisms of course because I'm too much of an Analyzer to ever find anything Perfect lol) Ranking 4 - more positive than neutral, but not good enough to be 5 Ranking 3 - either the good + bad negate each other, OR it's just not memorable/interesting in any way enough to be ranked higher or lower (this is the Default category ALL things are placed in if no other rank applies) Ranking 2 - maybe a few redeemable elements but largely more negatives than positives Ranking 1 - So bad that it circles around to being fascinating to observe in some way (not necessarily Funny, or Good, but just interesting somehow) Ranking 0 - Bad in a genuinely frustrating or obnoxious manner

*("best" primarily defined here as most interesting, rather than most good in a technical sense, or some other measure. I tend to value more highly whether there's something novel or thoughtful about the worldbuilding, tone, writing, base premise, etc - than about whether it's actually executed perfectly.)

And here's the amount of shows that have so far been placed into each category -

TV shows ~ Rank 5 (highest) - 20 shows ~ Rank 4 (mid-high) - 28 shows ~ Rank 3 (neutral/default/meh) - 114 shows ~ Rank 2 (mid low) -33 shows ~ Rank 1 (low low but intriguingly so) - 14 shows ~ Rank 0 (iredeemably low) - 2 shows

This would make for a total of 211 TV shows overall. However, there are 57 shows within these list marked as "didn't finish" (typically meaning I quit on the very first or second episode - but log them still to keep a record that I at least had a brief view of them).

So my total of genuinely fully watched shows would be more 154. 211 Total, but a More Accurate Total of 154.

Counting them all and using the Total Number Of The List (211) -- that means roughly 9.5% of all total shows I have ever watched (or at least attempted to watch) have been Mostly Good, 13% have been Moderately Okay, 54% have been either entirely Forgettable or some mix of good + bad that lands them right in the Neutral Middle, 15.6% have been Mostly Bad, 6.6% have been Bad (but in an interesting way), and 0.9% have been Terribly Bad.

Additionally, I didn't even get past the first two episodes of about 27% of the total.

Sooo, discounting ones I didn't finish, my total TV shows ever watched in my life would be about 154 (maybe give or take a few, assuming I might have forgotten some from very long ago).

But instead of entire life, let's just say this is the total for 'About 20 Years' (so, not counting very early childhood when I likely wouldn't remember things I saw/have no detailed recollection of them (like for example, I'm sure at some point when I was like 4yrs old I must have seen an episode of Spongebob or something, but I have zero distinct memories of it, can't quote anything of it, and barely recall the premise - so I don't count it on the list, etc.)).

In that case, 154 divided by 20 would be roughly 7.7 shows a year.

Which is actually surprisingly low considering that I often have stuff on in the background for hours whilst I make sculptures and do costumes and stuff (maybe I should have also marked some distinction between 'things I fully paid attention to' and 'things I kind of half listened to whilst sculpting', but that would further split the categories too much probably lol), but I guess a lot of that is youtube videos or random documentaries, so .. eh.. maybe I get it being lower.

Now, doing the same thing for movies-

Movies ~ Rank 5 (highest) - 4 movies (3.4% of total) ~ Rank 4 (mid-high) - 12 movies (10.3% of total) ~ Rank 3 (neutral/default/meh) - 91 movies (78.4% of total) ~ Rank 2 (mid low) - 8 movies (6.8% of total) ~ Rank 1 (low but interesting) - 1 movie (0.8% of total) ~ Rank 0 (irredeemably low) - none in this category (0%)

That makes 116 for a Total (Actually Remembered) Movies Watched In Lifetime (Or At Least In 20 Years).

116 divided by 20 is roughly 5 or 6 movies a year (I feel this has probably been skewed though by adding everything since like elementary school onwards, as I remember a lot more movies from child/teen years.. Whereas, the past 3 years I feel like I've barely seen maybe even 5 movies?? lol). I also have "Didn't Finish" marked on 18 of them. Which means I quit halfway through about 15% of the total movies.

So, a for broader summary stuff..

I seem to be less forgiving to movies than tv shows, by far. Which makes sense to me, I guess, because I love elaboration and details, so "short form" things that only last an hour or two are often lost on me a bit. My biggest complaint with movies is indeed usually walking away just wishing there had been more exposition, more scenes where characters are doing nothing, more "mindless bantering" conversations, more Quiet Downtime and Lore Elaboration and so on lol, so... of course most 1-2hr films end up feeling a bit Not Enough To Draw My Interest/Nothingy to me.

If you count 5 and 4 as "like" and rankings 2 to 0 as "dislike", then for TV shows I at least somewhat liked 48 of them, and at least somewhat disliked 47 of them.. So it's almost exactly the same lol. I'm just about equally as likely to find something bad as I am to find something redeeming about it. But overall, the largest chance is that I just won't really care much for it at all and it will be tossed into the 'neutral' pile, forgotten forever. Movies have a bit better of a balance, "liking" 16 of them, and "disliking" only 9 of them. So I'm slightly more likely to enjoy a movie than to find it annoying - though still VASTLY more likely to just not find it anything in particular, possibly not even finishing it.

ANYWAY.. this is vague and literally pointless, but like I said, I just really find information fun. Like my document where I've rated every apple flavor I've ever tried (like 40 of them now?), or reviewed every oreo flavor (32?), or ranking data from my entire 10 years of Trying To Make Friends process (out of 100 people, roughly 8% chance of a moderate compatibility, 3% chance of high), or etc. etc.. I love to have random pointless things to analyze I suppose lol.

I doubt anyone tracks things in their life in this same exact way, but I'd be interested in hearing any at least somewhat similar data !!! (like, how many TV shows you watch a year on average, and what percentage of those you like vs. dislike (if you keep track of that sort of thing), etc.)). I guess it might be easier with movies, since I think some people use those websites where you curate a list of movies you've seen and you can rate them or something, so maybe the numbers are already available on those places. :0

[pallases]

IM FREEEEEE

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D

[itsalwaysdark]

i think itis funny in the past when i would list my interests as if i post abt them i donot post abt the shit im into rly Mainly bc im not rly Into Into anything anymore i occasionally watch or read or play something but i dont do fandom stuff rly much.... just sometimes i get brainworms

[keeps-ache]

now annoying my brother by making up tunes and making him think they're real songs lmfshvjhs

[waywardsalt]

tbh i might go ahead and put dungeons in as a part of the bellum x linebeck fic's plot since like. 1) struggling to actually figure out a main plot and having dungeons as sort of bit points to hit and be little bits of fitting exploration and bonding and 2) i do kinda want to do dungeons. i like thinking of them and again i do think its fitting.