#road trip application

[call-me-pup2]

I like to think if I didn't have the pet commitments I do or if I could drive I'd travel a lot more but then I also remember a little trip down the road to tesco is a big adventure for me

[sunflowerhoney]

Work is literally kicking my ass so hard today like whyyyyy it’s Friday 😭😭

[tiarnanabhfainni]

got invited to the next stage of another job yippee

[navybrat817]

Like There's No Tomorrow

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: When you make a rash decision after you're passed over for a promotion again, Bucky encourages you to follow your dream. It's the start of an unforgettable journey. Word Count: Over 3.4k Warnings: Insecurities, impulsivity, reflecting, slight angst, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and the best, okay?). A/N: Writing this was very personal and therapeutic after my recent work experience. While I can't actually live this life, I know Firecracker and Daredevil will have many adventures together. Also for @the-slumberparty's Eight Types of Love Challenge (Ludus - Road Trip / Surprise)❤️ Thanks to the beautiful @whisperlullaby for the encouragement and @buckyownsmylife for giving this intro a look and assuring me it wasn't garbage, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You quit your job on a Friday afternoon.

On paper, it appeared to be an ordinary day. Nothing different from your usual routine. You got up, brushed your teeth, showered, dressed yourself, gave your boyfriend a kiss, selected a caffeinated beverage, and got to work. While you wouldn't call your job your dream job and some of the tasks were monotonous, you were good at it and you cared about your teammates.

In fact, they were one of the reasons you stuck around for as long as you did.

“Just wanted to say you've done a lot for us and we wouldn't be where we are without you.”

“I’m so sorry. I hope this doesn’t get you down.”

“I wish there was something I could say to make you feel better.”

“For what it’s worth, they made a mistake.”

Tears filled your eyes as you looked through the messages a few of your teammates sent after the promotion announcement was made minutes ago. There was an overall mixture of surprise and confusion when they heard you didn’t get it. They knew how hard you worked to move up and how badly you wanted it. You wished you hadn’t gotten your hopes up since that usually led to disappointment.

Of course, you were happy for the candidate who got the job. It wasn’t their fault you didn’t advance. Their success called for celebration. It didn’t make it any easier for you though and it didn’t lessen the hurt that you were passed over once again for something you were more than qualified for.

You somehow held it together though, not wanting everyone around you to see you break. Crying was reserved for the bathroom, your car, and home. Plus, you had shown enough vulnerability to management during the lengthy process and aftermath. They didn’t deserve an ounce more.

Especially after you were told that the value you provided wasn’t enough.

“I know this outcome is disappointing, but this isn’t a setback. You still have a lot to be proud of,” your manager told you the day before when you received the email entailing that you didn't receive the promotion and why. “Take the feedback we’ve given you and use that to get to the next level next time.”

He was only trying to help, but who would want to try again when they’re told they aren’t enough more than once? If the intention was to fuel your fire, they snuffed it out. Then again, your feelings were so raw because you hadn’t given yourself enough time to digest the news. Being told you were just out of reach was salt in the open wound, stinging much more than it should have as you tried to figure out what you did wrong.

Because you had to have done something wrong, right? Were the words you wrote in your application not eloquent enough? Did you not display the right amount of confidence in your interview? Why were you always on the cusp of greatness, but never quite there?

Blinking the moisture from your eyes, you straightened up and began to type again. Personal feelings aside, you had a job to do. You needed the income. You also had to prove that they were wrong in overlooking you. Again.

But as the sound of your fingers flying across the keyboard became white noise in your head, Bucky’s words from earlier in the morning shimmered into your mind.

“Just quit, Firecracker. They don’t deserve you and you deserve better.”

Bucky Barnes, your boyfriend. The kind of man you didn’t think was real until he came into your life. Gorgeous, faithful, doting, protective - you thought men like that only existed in books. He supported and hyped you up every time you went for a promotion and wiped away every tear when you didn’t get it. Your crying and self-doubt broke his heart and this morning may have been the last straw for him.

Maybe it was the last straw for you, too.

Glancing around the office as you saw everyone else typing with minimal conversation, the room had never looked more lifeless to you. There was nothing about the place or the job that inspired you, so why continue to give yourself over to a place that didn’t give back to you in return? Why stay in a place that dulled your shine?

The sudden realization hit you square in your chest that you didn’t want to be there anymore.

“Have a great weekend, team. Good luck and thanks for everything.” You sent in a message before you could stop yourself.

You had never had an out-of-body experience before, but it was as if your spirit was beside you as you began to close the programs on your computer. Glancing at your desk after you set your phone to voicemail, you realized you had hardly any personal touches in your space. Except for the photo of you and Bucky.

He was your one bright spot in the building.

With the utmost care, you put the photo in your bag once you shut everything down. Your heart sank as your gaze swept over your team, an uncomfortable pit settling in your stomach as you went to see your boss. Disappointing anyone always brought you a sense of dread and you didn’t want to let him or anyone else down, but you were thinking of yourself for once.

You owed yourself that.

“Hey,” your boss smiled as he glanced up from his desk before he noticed you had your bag. You shifted on your feet when his cheerfulness shifted to concern. “What’s up? Are you clocking out early?”

“Not exactly,” you answered, gripping your bag so hard your hand began to ache.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, leaning forward in his seat.

You didn’t know how to respond because it wasn’t okay and nothing he could say or do would change how you felt. You didn't want him to try and sway you to stay. The heartbreaking part was that he was, overall, a good boss. He taught you a lot and helped you better yourself. So did the team as a whole. They were rock stars. Each and every one of them.

But now they weren’t enough to make you stay and maybe it was a blessing in disguise that you didn’t go anywhere with your job.

So with a bittersweet smile, you uttered, “I quit. I’m sorry.”

You tossed your building key onto his desk and turned away before he could reply. Your mind raced as you put one foot in front of the other and ignored the stares of your coworkers who caught on to what had just transpired. It was hard to breathe, but your steps for once felt light instead of heavy. Your boss may have called out for you, but you didn’t dare look back. Not when you couldn’t stay in there another minute.

What you didn’t expect was for Bucky to be waiting outside as you went out of the door.

Your boyfriend managed to take your breath away every time you saw him and today was no exception. All 6’4” of him, he decided to cover his beefy frame with one of his favorite leather jackets, a fitting shirt, and tight jeans. His stormy eyes zeroed in on you as he pushed away from his old pickup truck and ran a hand through his chestnut hair. He was stunning.

He was yours.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” you blurted out as you raced toward him. “Get me out of here. Please.”

But why was he there? You didn’t plan to meet up with him until after work and your shift was only a little over halfway over. Did he want to surprise you?

He caught you easily with his large hands before you could stumble into him. “Whoa, easy. Get in,” he said, opening the passenger door and helping you in. Your hands trembled as you buckled yourself in, your body in flight mode because you had to get away from the office. He wasted no time getting in and peeling out of the parking lot, the building becoming smaller and smaller in the distance.

You weren’t even sure how far away he drove before he pulled over and stopped the car since you didn’t look behind you. Resting your shaking hands on your thighs, the high of walking out dissipated until it left you cold. Reality sank in. Would it pull you under?

“Talk to me,” Bucky urged, his voice calm and gentle instead of demanding. “Please?”

“I quit my job,” you whispered, your gaze set in front of you, but not seeing anything in focus. “I couldn't do it anymore.”

Bucky leaned over to turn your face toward him, sympathy and understanding filling his eyes. “Oh, baby, I knew today would be the tipping point. Waited most of the morning for you to walk out,” he said. You were about to question how he could possibly know that, but he could read you better than anyone. “Just a feeling I had.”

“I quit my job. I quit,” you said again, your breathing more shallow than before he engulfed you in a warm and grounding embrace. Your fingers twisted in his jacket as you breathed him in. Sandalwood and citrus were scents you now associated with love because of him. “What did I do?! I didn’t even give notice. I just tossed my card down and left. Fuck, I just burned my bridges with everyone there.”

You stifled a sob as you hid your face in his neck. You swore to yourself that you would never be that person who walks out on a job, but you did just that and screwed over your entire team. Would any of them understand why you did it or accept an apology? How long would it take for that guilt to go away since you essentially gave up after the words of kindness and encouragement they gave you?

“Breathe, baby. I’ve got you” he whispered, rubbing your back as you steadied yourself. “Yeah, you quit today. And maybe you burned a bridge, maybe not. But I couldn’t be fucking prouder of you.”

“You’re proud that I walked out on my team?” You asked, whipping your head up so fast you were lucky you didn’t get whiplash. “They don’t deserve to deal with that. Not to mention, I have nothing lined up.”

The thought of starting over again made your stomach drop again. The job market could be a terrifying and hopeless place. What if you couldn’t find anything? Or what if you burned through your savings by the time you did?

“I’m proud that you walked away from something keeping you down. After everything you’ve done for them, I’m sure most of them will get why you couldn’t do it anymore,” he assured you, the corners of his lips turning down when you sniffled. “And don't worry about not having something lined up. We'll figure it out.”

“We?” You questioned. Bucky was your boyfriend, but this wasn’t his problem.

“Yeah, we,” he said, pointing between the two of you with his forefinger. “You and me. I'm in this with you.”

Your heart melted before logic tried to take back over. “I should just go back there and apologize. I can say that I-”

He framed your face and pressed his warm lips to yours before you could say another word. He coaxed you to return the kiss with ease and you responded with parted lips and a sigh. His kisses left you lightheaded as sparks ignited, threatening to explode if you went much further. Which was why he stopped to let you catch your breath.

“No. You’re not doing that,” he said, his scruff tickling your forehead as he pressed a kiss there. He knew that was a weakness of yours and it instantly stopped you from arguing. “We're going on an adventure and we can’t do that if you’re chained to a desk.”

“An adventure?” You repeated with uncertainty.

“Yeah. We’re going to drive and see where it takes us,” he said, his lips touching your forehead once more before he started up the car again. “Just need to grab a couple of things before we go.”

“What about work for you?”

“It’s taken care of,” he assured you. He wasn’t the type of guy to lie, but when did he have time to plan this? Neither one of you had mentioned going anywhere.

Leave it to Bucky to do something impulsive to make you happy.

“Okay,” you said, trusting him and deciding to play along with his endeavor. “You said we need a couple of things. What do we need? Besides the essentials.”

“Your laptop. And a journal if you don't feel like typing.”

You refrained from rolling your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I know. My laptop so I can apply for new jobs and pray that they don’t reach out to my now previous boss as a reference, right?”

“Oh, no,” he chuckled, a playful smirk on his face when you swung your head toward him. “The laptop is so you can write like you've always wanted to. And the journal if you prefer to write some of your thoughts and ideas down by hand.”

“Wait. You want me to write on this trip?” You asked, making sure you heard him correctly.

“Yeah, I do.”

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Your boyfriend was certifiably crazy, but you loved that about him. “Bucky, no. I can't just write,” you said.

“Why not?” He shrugged.

“Because it doesn't pay the bills or provide security,” you replied.

Writing was a silly hobby that you did from time to time to help you channel your emotions or escape from the real world. At best, it was a dream. Nothing more. He knew that. At least, you thought he knew that.

At the end of the day, it wouldn’t put a roof over your head or food in your stomach. How were you expected to hold onto dreams that wouldn’t take you anywhere? And at what point did you stop believing in them and yourself?

When did you start thinking so cynically?

“But working a job you're not passionate about just to provide safety is the better option? There’s a difference between doing something you love and doing something you’re good at when your heart isn’t in it. You’ve done the latter for years now,” He said with a huff as you inhaled. “That isn't living and you’re lying to yourself if you think it is.”

Your eyes narrowed as his words sank in, your shackles raising. “No, it isn’t living, but it’s the most practical thing I can do! And, yeah, I am good at my job because I worked my ass off!” You argued, taking a breath. You didn’t want to start crying or snap at him when he was right. “Or at least I was good at my job. And I would’ve done my best had I advanced, but I couldn’t even accomplish that.”

Which begged the question of why you applied. The higher title and pay would’ve been nice for recognition and comfortability. You believed you earned it. But was it what you wanted to do for the rest of your life? Was that your path when you looked toward your future?

You hadn’t taken into account your own desires and values.

“Hey,” he said softer than before. “I wasn’t trying to-”

“And say I do try and write for real. How can I even enjoy this adventure knowing I'm probably just going to fail again?” You asked in a small voice.

How many hits could you take before your armor cracked?

Bucky's jaw clenched. “And that's exactly why I'm glad you finally quit. You've had so many people over your head telling you that what you do isn't enough to achieve what you want. And now you believe it,” he said, his hands gripping the steering wheel hard enough that you feared he’d bend it with his strength. “Fuck that and fuck them for making you feel that way.”

Your mouth fell open as you stared, his fury for and defense of you making your chest tighten. “I…”

“Why can’t you be a writer, huh? Why not try? You’re talented and I’m not just saying that to make you feel better. That’s where your heart is and it shows with every word,” He pressed, knowing you put your whole self into your creative outlet. “And, listen, we have money set aside for the time being and more than enough for this excursion. So I don’t care if writing doesn’t pay the bills for a while as long as you’re happy and doing what you’re passionate about. We’ll have each other and that’s enough in my eyes.”

Contemplating his words, you had to give him credit. The job wasn’t something you did because you were passionate about it. You did it because it was safe and expected of you when in many ways it held you back. Besides, what did you have to lose at this point? If you didn’t try, you’d never know. You’d look back one day and regret it if you let the chance pass you by.

Why not do something impulsive?

Why not make the most out of the moment you were in?

“Okay. You’re right. I should try to write and we should go,” you nodded, taking a deep breath. “Let’s grab a few things and see where this trip takes us.”

“There she is,” he smiled over at you, making your heart swell. “There’s my Firecracker.”

The nickname would always warm your heart. “You know, this actually sounds a bit like that book idea I had the other day,” you said, excitement seeping through your veins. Your fingers twitched a bit, too, with the urge to write. “Do you remember? I told you about it while we were eating pizza.”

Bucky took one hand from the steering wheel to grab yours. “I remember everything you've ever said.”

“Flattery will get you everything, Daredevil,” you said, biting your lip to keep from smiling too wide. “So, we're really doing this. We're just leaving?”

“Not just leaving. We're taking a long overdue road trip," he says, bringing your hand to his mouth to kiss it. “You deserve it.”

“We both do,” you said, the uncertainty leaving your body more with each passing second. You even turned off your phone so you wouldn’t be tempted to look at any emails or messages. “We deserve to live today like there’s no tomorrow.”

“‘Like there’s no tomorrow’,” Bucky quoted back to you with a hum. “Sounds like a good book title.’

“I’ll have to write it down so I don’t forget,” you smiled, linking your fingers together. “And don’t forget your journal, too. I don’t want you to miss a thing.”

“I won’t forget it,” he promised.

“Bucky?” You asked, swallowing as he gazed over at you. “Thank you. Really.”

It felt like you could breathe again without a weight in your chest. You didn't feel perfect, but you felt good. All thanks to him. You didn’t know what you’d do without him.

“You don’t need to thank me, baby, but I should thank you for letting me take you away,” he winked, keeping your hand in his as he faced forward again. “Makes me feel like a real hero, even though you wouldn't let me storm the castle.”

Oh, he wanted so badly to go off on your manager, but there was no need. “You are a hero,” you said. He saved you without knowing. “But try not to speed, Daredevil. I don’t want us to get pulled over before we get started.”

He groaned, but nodded as he let off the gas. “I’ll try not to speed. Need to make sure I get you to where we’re going safely.”

“I trust you.”

You would find out soon enough that Bucky had a list of things written in his journal that he planned to do with you on this trip. Everything you had ever said in passing that you wanted to do or try, but never could because of work. Because he paid attention to you. And you were right.

You deserved to live today like there’s no tomorrow.

And he wanted to be by your side while you lived your best life.

So, lovelies, where are they doing on their trip first? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[roanofarcc]

YOU NEVER LEFT ME

pairing. javi x fem!reader

summary. after the loss of three of your best friends, you found yourself pushing everyone away. it seemed easier that way. if there was no one around, no one could be taken from you. and while that mentality faded as time healed your wounds, you had no intention of seeking out kate nor javi. you thought it was better that way. until, one day fate brings you all back together, and you have to deal with some long unspoken feelings. 

warnings. PTSD, mentions of drinking/underage drinking, fluffy, "unrequited" feelings, mention of kate/javi, kate and tyler are idiots in love in the background.

word count. 2.1k || masterlist

The air was dry in Oklahoma that summer, the heat intense and reminiscent. You sat in the passenger seat, gaze focused out the window. 

“Did you review the application?” your coworker asked from the driver’s seat, making light small talk between the gaps of silence in the radio. 

“Courtney filled me in on their qualifications, and why she thinks they’re a good fit for the grant. I trust her judgment,” you replied. Work had been busy the past couple of weeks, and you’d been too swamped to sit down and read the top contender for a rather large grant that would help a team of lucky storm chasers fund their research. You had received a stack of applications, but the team you were traveling to meet was the top contender. 

Your coworker hummed and left it at that until your little road trip concluded at a barn in the middle of nowhere. “This is their lab?” he asked, parking the car. “I feel like we’re stepping into a horror film. There’s no one around for miles.” 

You smiled and shook your head. “That’s Oklahoma for you,” you said. “Come on.” You stepped out of the car, feeling the heat fit you with full force. It was oddly pleasant, a gentle reminder of your days spent traveling across Tornado Alley back in college, trying to get your and your friends' own research funded. It was odd being on the other side of things, but storm chasing was no longer something you dreamed of doing as a career. You had sworn it off since one deadly miscalculation and cruel fate took the lives of three of your friends. Since then, storms only brought you a cold sense of dread, which is why you pivoted paths, still playing into your curiosity in the dangerous weather, but never having to see it up close again. 

“Hey, y’all!” A chipper voice called from the barn before a group of people emerged, the storm-chasing team. You squinted in the sunlight, looking at each member for a moment before your gaze fell on the last two people. You faltered, a quick skip of your heart at the shock that toppled over you. You should have read over the application yourself. You should have known the methods sounded familiar, but time had made it seem unlikely. 

But in front of you, approaching across the dirt driveway, were your old team members, the only remaining ones alive, Kate and Javi. 

“Holy shit!” Javi said with a wide smile as he picked up his pace, practically jogging towards you. You blinked, a wave of emotions crashing over the top of you. He stopped directly in front of you, the same Javi you knew six years ago only this hair was much shorter, and he stood a little broader. But his smile was the same; the same one that used to make you clam up when you were crammed in the back of the truck together while traveling all across Tornado Alley. “I told you it was her!” he said, looking beside him at Kate. 

She looked different too, and her hair was shorter. But you couldn’t help but notice the little twinkle in her eye that had once been there but disappeared after the accident. You didn’t stick around the two of them long in the aftermath, deciding to transfer to a college close to home as you tried to recover, but you stayed long enough to see the toll it took on the two of them. Javi had lost three of his friends and Kate had lost two friends and someone who was once the love of her life. Despite that, the two of them were still working together, chasing. 

“I knew the last name, but I didn’t think…” Kate trailed off, her surprise melting into fondness as she took you in. “It's nice to see you.” 

You cleared your throat, ignoring the strange looks from your coworker. “Y-Yeah. It’s nice to see you guys too.” 

You and your coworker completed your rounds of questioning and inquiring about their research, but you were distracted. It was a strange feeling that pricked the back of your neck, somewhere between uncomfortable and drenched in nostalgia that you were watching from the outside. Javi and Kate almost acted like they’d never been apart. The way they finished each other sentences when explaining their research, with the addition of another member of their team jumping in too, was reminiscent of your college days. 

It wasn’t until standing in front of them, in the familiar space of Kate’s mother’s barn, that you realized just how much you missed them. It hit you like a gut punch, an unexpected blow. 

“Well, we’ll have to talk it over with the bossman, but I don’t see any reason why you guys shouldn’t get this grant,” your coworker said. The group was all smiles. “I think we’re good to go, yeah?” He turned to you, but before could nod in response, Javi jumped in. 

“We actually planned to either celebrate or wallow at a bar downtown, if you’d guys like to join?” Javi’s eyes were fixed on you, a light pleading gaze. 

You couldn’t say no. 

At the bar, you were sandwiched between Javi and Kate as you all sipped your drinks and talked about everything but your college days. It was something you had always tip-toed around, avoided, and by the way they spoke, you could tell it was something they hadn’t talked too much about either. 

The conversation was nice, light, but it still stung a little in your skin. It was odd, you thought, how you didn’t know just how much you missed someone until you were back in their presence. But it stuck to you like wet clothes. Yet, you tried to enjoy the moment and relish in your old friends' company for one night. 

You weren’t sure how long you spent talking until one of the other chasers from Kate and Javi’s team, the infamous Tyler Owens, appeared behind Kate and asked her to dance. She looked a little flustered, which confused you. Javi laughed and shooed her away, which also confused you. 

Maybe it wasn’t right to jump to conclusions, but by the closeness of Kate and Javi that you picked up on from the minute you arrived, you assumed they had fallen into more than old ways of friendship but moved into something more. Maybe you shouldn’t have assumed, but it made sense. Old friends reconnecting, chasing again despite everything. 

But when you say the way Tyler looked at Kate as he spun her around the crowded bar makeshift dance floor, you started to realize maybe you read things wrong. 

Javi noticed your quizzical looks at the two. He chuckled into his beer before leaning back on the bar chair. “All the Wranglers have a bet going,” he said. “How long until the two of ‘em buck up and admit their feelings for each other. It’s pretty obvious they're in love with each other, but Kate’s still…you know, she’s scared and Tyler’s too much of a gentleman to make a move until she’s ready,” he explained, putting the pieces together for you. 

“Oh,” you replied, surprised. “I thought you and Kate…” 

Javi smiled, shaking his head. “I love her, but not like that. Besides, she and Tyler are good for each other, and I…I have a somewhat pathetic love life.” 

You furrowed your brows. “I doubt it's pathetic. No more pathetic than mine, at least.” 

His gaze was heavy on the side of your face as you stared at your drink, thinking back to every failed date you managed to have since college. It wasn’t anyone's fault but your own. It was like you sabotaged your relationships, looking for something that was even a mystery to yourself. 

“I dunno about that,” he sighed. “I’ve had the same crush on a girl for years, an embarrassingly long time.” 

You met his eyes, curiosity peaked. Javi never talked much about his crushes in college, not to you at least. While Kate and Jeb seemed to have been a match made in heaven, you complained about not being able to find a love like that. Javi always listened to you complain but never mentioned his own feelings towards others around campus. You assumed it was because he was too focused on your research. You put his obviousness of the fact that you clearly had a crush on him on his focus on school. 

“How long is embarrassingly?” 

He tilted his head, a sheepish smile hung on his lips. “Since college.” 

You paused, holding your drink midway in the air, confused. “But you said you and Kate-” 

“I’m not talkin’ about Kate,” Javi said before he sighed lightly. “To be honest, I kind of lied to them about the grant and not knowing that it was your company administering it.” His admittance caught you off guard. You blinked, unsure of what to say, so you let him continue. 

“I knew it was a longshot and I had no idea if it’d actually get reviewed. But I thought it was a win-win if it did. We could win the grant and see you. The more I thought about it, though, the less it became about the money and more just about seeing you again. Probably not the smartest way or the easiest, but I wasn’t sure you’d come out if I just asked you out of the blue. And I worried, if you saw our names, you’d ignore it or something; we wouldn’t have blamed you for that, though. It’s hard; I know. Kate does too. But-” he cut himself off, a little out of breath from speaking quickly. “It’s not the same without you. And I’m not talkin’ about chasing. Having you in our lives, in my life, I miss it; I miss you…” 

It was a lot to take in, a lot to process in the loud, dusty bar. You felt warm, half a nice warmth and the other troubled, unsure. You pressed your lips into a thin line for a moment, taking in his words. 

“I-I…” The words were thick in your throat, but you swallowed them down and tried again. “I miss you guys too.” 

“Really?” 

You laughed sadly. “Of course I do. You guys were my best friends.” And it hurt that they weren’t anymore, but maybe it didn’t have to stay that way. Maybe that’s why you followed them to the bar because you weren’t ready to let them go again, despite the pain that accompanied their company as well. 

“Friends,” Javi parroted, glancing down at his beer, fingers tapping against the counter. “I’m gonna say somethin’ that might not be, uh, the right thing right now, but I don’t know when or if I’ll see you again.” You wanted to tell him that he would, but you couldn’t be certain of that; nothing was ever certain. “I liked you in college, a lot. I always have, and still do. Which, I know, is ridiculous. I haven’t seen or talked to you in years, but you never left me.” 

Your heart ached the same way it had when you two would get a little closer back in school, testing the waters of something beyond friends but you never got the chance to take the dive. 

You were quiet for a moment, eyes falling out the door onto the sky shifting colors as night neared. The smell of cheap whisky the person on the other side of you was drinking brought you back to sneaking bottles from your parent's house when your little team stopped by during chases. You and Javi sipped it in the back of the van, giggling to yourself until you fell asleep. Kate would help you two nurse a hangover with diner coffees she always poured too much sugar into. You missed that. You missed them. You missed him. 

“Maybe this won’t be the last time you see me,” you said, looking back at him. 

Javi looked surprised but it melted into excitement quickly. “Maybe you could stay, hang around a bit. You think your work would let you help us with the grant money?” 

It would be an odd ask, but possibly one they wouldn’t say no to. But the thought of chasing again sent shivers down your spine. He noticed, placing a warm hand over yours. “It’ll be different this time,” he said, voice laced with a convincing reassurance. 

You knew that wasn’t something he could promise, but the thought of jumping on a plane the next morning didn’t sit right with you either. You were stuck at a crossroads of sorts. 

It was a leap of faith, a fear-chasing endeavor you weren’t sure you were fully prepared for, but maybe it was where your life needed to go. 

“It couldn’t hurt to ask.” 

And he smiled even brighter.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

I said I wasn't going to get started on the topic of Aveline ruining Carver's chances with the guard but I lied okay, it's Carver Hawke defense hours.

Here's the thing; it doesn't matter if you believe Carver was or wasn't fit for the guard. That's a different debate that I'll get to. What matters is Aveline's in no position to tell the guard not to accept his application. Why does she think that's her right to judge whether or not he's fit?

Carver should've had the chance to prove himself one way or another. If it turns out he's not a good fit, then let him fail. Let him learn from it.

"Oh but failure could mean lost lives-"

Aveline doesn't get to talk shit about failure and the people. Plenty have died on her watch yet she still believes she's a good guard and Guard-Captain.

"maybe Aveline's protecting him, Carver could die while on patrol-"

Carver could die working in the Bone Pit, or serving as a templar, or when he's running around with Hawke. Carver could trip and fall down a set of stairs and die. In fact, he can die in the Deep Roads, somewhere he wouldn't have to go if the Hawke's weren't desperate.

Either Carver fails as a guard, or more likely, he succeeds and proves himself worthy of it.

But let's be real, Carver probably kept getting rejected due to being a Fereldan with a past of smuggling/mercenary work and Aveline only reaffirmed the decision, either because they asked her what she thought or she stuck her nose in unprompted.

But what irritates me is that she admits to telling them not to accept his application, and then has the balls to call Carver too proud to take up a trade or find another line of work.

Carver tells her, "And who would take on a Fereldan apprentice? Maybe in another year I could work my way up to pissboy." He has a good point here. Aside from the guard, the only other place Carver could work and use his skillset is with the Templars. Or go back to mercenary/smuggling work.

And Aveline doesn't even have a real answer for him. No suggestions, no encouragement, nothing. Just "Fine, let's crawl down some holes. Good bloody luck for your sake."

Also, if you do the Mark of the Assassin DLC in Act 1-

Aveline: You should see if any of the noblemen are looking for new men-at-arms. Carver: Are you trying to get rid of me? Aveline: It's a role with some autonomy. A good fit with your training and... tendencies. Carver: After serving King Cailan? You want me to suffer some poncy git who needs two servants to wipe his own ass? I'll find my own way, thanks. Aveline: I wish you would.

You wish he would?? Aveline, he was trying to find his way into the guard, a position he'd make a good fit for, and you helped deny him of it because YOU didn't think he would be good enough, I just-

If I haven't made it clear yet, I firmly believe that Carver would've made a great guard. He wants to help people, to be a protector. He's loyal, and despite what Aveline claims, he can follow orders and take his duty seriously. We see him do incredibly well with the Grey Wardens, after all. If he were a guard, he wouldn't have to go down into the Deep Roads with Hawke, and I think he would've been okay with that! He's so hurt and bitter when you leave him behind because that effectively tells him, "I don't need you." Carver's spent the whole first act telling you he wants to go on the expedition aka that he wants to be needed.

But if he were a guard, he would be needed elsewhere. He'd be in training as a recruit. He'd look after Leandra while you go. He wouldn't be backed into a corner with no income and only the templars left as his chance at forging his own path and providing for his family.

He doesn't get that opportunity, though.

By the way, if he becomes a warden, you can get this banter:

Aveline: I'm glad you found a place with the Wardens. Carver: Well, it's not the city guard, but it'll do. Aveline: Carver... it wasn't the place for you. Carver: No, it's all right. It is. It cost a lot, but I get it. I really was a bit of a tit those days, wasn't I? Aveline: Well...

This banter makes me want to scream.

Aveline's just... she's so insistent that she's right. She's someone who will double down rather than entertain the idea that she's wrong and it's not just with Carver and the guard, it's with everything. The "my beef with Aveline" list gets longer and longer every time I replay da2, I swear.

Say what you will about Carver, whether you think he would've been a good fit or if Aveline's right and it wasn't for him, he was denied a chance and it cost him so much in the end. He either dies, or he joins the templars where he deals with Chantry's bullshit trying to brainwash him with "mages aren't people" and "magic is a cancer in this world", or he's infected with the blight and becomes a Grey Warden, forced to serve the rest of his life fighting darkspawn, tormented by voices and nightmares.

I will never not be bitter about this.

[toxicanonymity]

[your dirty little mouth]

Joel Miller x f reader w/ background

I8+ Dirty talk. No name or physical description of reader. Reader is not a native Spanish speaker

You evacuated with Joel, and after five years, you're living together in the village in Wyoming. Imagine he's taught you a good bit of Spanish. You knew some from school, but he used to speak Spanish a lot for work in Texas. Your downtime on the road was a good opportunity for immersion. It's helped to have a second language in certain situations. It was especially helpful in the times you couldn't trust anyone and needed to move covertly.

These days, your practical application is usually to say filthy things to him in public and watch him flush, squirm, and harden. Your Spanish isn't perfect, but your special effort is cute to him and he typically knows what you're trying to say. Sometimes he just wishes you were a little more discreet.

tu vocecita sucia [your dirty little mouth]

At breakfast in the dining hall.

Joel: What do you want to drink, milk or juice?

You: Quiero lecherte (sic). [I want to milk you]

Joel coughs and turns red.

You: Quiero tu leche salada en mi boca. [I want your salty cum in my mouth]

Joel abruptly sits down with his coffee and sternly mouths "enough."

You shrug and smile. A smirk creeps across one corner of his mouth. He looks down then nods toward the drink bar.

Joel: Help yourself.

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

At an outdoor event. (Movie night is based on this)

Joel: Do you want to go to the movie?

You: Sí. . . [Yes. . .]

Joel shifts uncomfortably on his feet as a Pavlovian response.

You: Antes, debes cojerme como no puedes vivir sin mi cuerpo. [First, you should fuck me like you can't live without my body.]

Joel positions you in front of him with his hands loosely on your hips.

Joel (softly into your hair): ¿Otra vez? [What was that?]

You: Escuchaste bien la primera vez. Hazlo. Vámanos. [You heard right the first time. Do it. Let's go.]

Joel (whispering in your ear): Sí, entendí. Solamente quería escucharlo otra vez. [Yeah, I got it, just wanted to hear it again]

Joel subtly rocks into you so you feel his hardness.

You: ¿Vas a ponerme tan mojado y entonces no usarlo?[Are you going to get me this wet then not use it?]

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

Around the campfire on a hunting trip

You bend down in front of Joel to add a log to the fire then whisper in his ear on your way back to your seat.

You: Mi culo es solamente para ti. [My ass is just for you.]

Joel: Yeah I think we have enough wood, amor.

You: Necesito- [I need-]

Joel: -mientras duermen [-while they sleep.]

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

Feel free to submit Joel asks! And if you want to be tagged in stuff, lmk.

Master list

[exhuastedpigeon]

there ain't no turning back

Buddie 🚘 Explicit 🚘 28.3k 🚘 Complete Road Trip | Future Fic | Getting Together

Eddie let out a yelp when he finally took in the room. It was a two queen room, white blankets, a TV, a desk and chair near the window, nothing about the furniture was strange, except for the fact that Buck was lounging on the bed closest to the windows, his legs crossed at the ankles, feet clad in MIT socks that he’d gotten for himself the day Chris sent his application in because Buck was that confident he’d get in.  “You made good time,” Buck said with a grin, his eyes bright as he looked at Eddie.  “You’re here? How are you here?” Eddie felt like crying as he toed off his shoes and walked over to Buck.  “Did you know JetBlue has a direct flight from LAX to Buffalo that runs once a day at 1:58?” Buck asked by way of answer. “And did you know that I racked up a lot of credit card points furnishing my apartment last year?” “I did not know that.” “And did you know that I had like eight weeks of PTO banked from never taking time off during my three year marriage, which actually, in retrospect might have been a sign that things weren’t going well,” Buck said, his smile a little sad but still so very Buck that Eddie couldn’t help but smile back.  “That so?” OR The Buddie healing road trip fic

Read on Ao3

[hardly-an-escape]

prompt for your roadtrip if you're interested, no pressure at all: hob assuming dream wouldn't be tech-savvy because of both his general inhuman vibe and fishbowl timeout, but it turns out that when you contain the collective unconsciousness of every single living thing, you understand a lot of things. dream is like do know how many people have stress dreams about email. i am all of those dreams

ooh thank you anon, you're going to get some random headcanons and meta braindump! I love this idea and it reminds me of that post going around where Dream is somehow able to speak in emojis 🤣

I feel like this kind of aspect of Dream's character is actually really underrated in fics? he is weird and reserved, but he's not stupid and he's not inexperienced. I think he just doesn't always know how to connect the knowledge he has via the collective unconscious to a real world application. that is, he knows everything but doesn't know how to talk to people about it.

I think where this could get really interesting is in a retired Dream scenario. how much knowledge does he retain during the transition to humanity? is he starting over from zero, or does he keep what he already knows (and simply can't add more to the sum total)?

it would be fascinating to see him stumble through typical human experiences like job applications and emails and doctor visits if he only has theoretical knowledge of them. like, I can watch a hundred videos on making omurice and describe in great detail all the steps to do it, but the first couple of times I try to actually make it I guarantee you I'm going to fuck it up. is it like that for Dream as well?

does he go to make a cup of tea for the first time (I contain the records of every cup of tea made in dreams, Hob, I think I can handle it.) and completely seize up? because the gulf between seeing it done in dreams and doing it with his own two human hands is so incomprehensibly vast?

come and drop a prompt in my inbox and I'll write you a drabble while I’m being a passenger princess on this road trip <3

[hb-writes]

Alligators & Crocodiles

Summary: Mia is running late for an outing with her parents and Emmett helps her to speed things along.

Characters: Emmett Cullen & Mia Cullen (OC)

Twilight (Mia Cullen) Masterlist

Comfy-vember 2024 Masterlist

—

“Now, sit still until those dry,” Rosalie said as she collected the nail polish and stood up from the kitchen island. “Don’t touch anything for fifteen minutes.” 

Mia was notoriously bad at the part of nail polish application that required her to stay put and allow it to set, part of why Rosalie habitually said 'no' when her sister requested a manicure, but after watching Mia struggle to paint the fingers on her right hand for several minutes on account of the brace on her left wrist, she took pity and took over, finishing her sister’s nails in a matter of seconds. 

“But it’s quick dry...polish,” Mia started, her voice growing close to silent as Rose turned back to glare at her. “Ok, fine. Fifteen minutes. I know, I know,” she grumbled after Rosalie’s retreating form. Her sister hadn't actually threatened violence if Mia ruined her manicure, but Rosalie's thoughts on the matter were clear enough.

Emmett shifted into the seat beside Mia and grasped his sister’s hands, looking more closely at the black fingernails. Emmett was half-surprised to learn the girls even had black nail polish in the house. He couldn’t remember ever seeing it on any of them before.

“It’s kind of a badass look,” Emmett said as he admired the nails. "Very angsty teenager of you." 

“I like ‘em,” Mia answered with a shrug, pulling her hand away to admire the color herself. “Found it in Alice’s stash.” 

Emmett nodded. The information tracked. While Rose wore only shades of red on her nails, Alice was known for experimenting with various shades—she was currently exploring blue hues.

Mia pulled her gaze from her nails as Carlisle came into the kitchen, stopping on the other side of the island.

“You’re all ready to go?” Carlisle asked, his gaze catching her freshly painted nails, though he didn't comment on them. 

"Yup," she answered. “All set."

Mia was still a bit surprised she had pulled it off after ignoring three alarms and staying in bed far longer than she intended. She had planned to be up early enough to fit in packing, a full shower routine, and a manicure before they were due to leave, but her desire for sleep had gotten in the way of that, tightening her morning schedule. With the exception of her nail polish and her hair, which was still shower- damp against her back, she'd been successful.

“Very good,” Carlisle answered. Mia knew her parents were eager to get on the road to the airport. If it wasn’t for her, the whole family would have made the trip to Alaska on foot. It would be faster, and it was what the others were doing, but Mia couldn’t reasonably make the journey that way, so Carlisle, Esme, and Mia would be driving to Seattle before boarding a flight to Alaska. 

“The car is all packed, so we’re just waiting for you," he offered. "We should be on the road in ten minutes.”  

“Well, Rosalie said I’m not allowed to move for the next—” Mia glanced at the clock. “—twelve minutes.” 

“Well, we’ll be leaving in ten," Carlisle answered. She was always amazed at the way her father could be unremarkably human in some moments, especially where air travel was concerned. He always had them to the airport far earlier than necessary, fussing about schedule and timeline.

“Fine," Mia conceded, "but if these nails get messed up and she's mad, I’m blaming you and mom.” 

Carlisle snorted. “I’ll deal with your sister,” he answered. “You just get yourself out to the car. You’ve had your breakfast?” 

“Yeah, um, I’m good," she mumbled. "Not really hungry.” 

Carlisle raised an eyebrow. “You know the rules, Mia. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” 

She wasn’t allowed to leave home without having something to eat, especially not when they'd be in a car driving for the next few hours.

“I know, but it's early and I’m not hungry and my nails are wet and—” Mia stopped herself as her father just continued staring at her, eyebrows still raised. “Fine. fine I guess I’ll figure out some way to eat something even though I'm not—”

“I’ll help,” Emmett interrupted, a smirk on his face as he pinched Mia’s cheek. “It’ll be just like old times. Choo choo train and all.”

“Not too much like old times,” Carlisle advised, remembering how feeding his daughter as a toddler had often been a full out excursion, spanning hours and requiring a clean up crew. 

“We need to be on the road in—” Carlisle glanced at his watch “—eight minutes.” 

“Eight minutes,” Mia agreed. 

It wasn’t worth arguing that they need not be so early for the airport. Carlisle liked to be early, to make sure they wouldn’t be impeded by traffic or long security lines or whatever else it was dads worried about where airports were concerned. 

Emmett moved to the fridge, humming as he scoured for breakfast options. “What special breakfast shall we feed Miss Mia this morning?” he asked the question in a sing-song voice that had a bit of heat rushing to Mia's cheeks, the familiarity of the little jingle bringing her straight back to early childhood when her family sang to her before every meal, hoping to entice her into being cooperative with eating. 

“Emmett, come on,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t be making too much of this opportunity to tease her, but as he turned back to her, a cheeky grin on his face, she knew it would be too enticing for him to pass up. 

“There’s ketchup and olives,” he said, holding up the two options. 

“Emmett, it’s not funny. And Dad said we only have—”

“No? Okay, how about chocolate syrup and…eggs?” 

“Em, seriously we don’t have time for this,” Mia groaned, starting to stand up. “If you’re going to play, I’ll just do it my—”

“Yogurt and blueberries, it is,” he interrupted. “Take a seat, Miss Mia.” 

Mia slid back into the chair, mindful of her nails, and Emmett zoomed around the kitchen, rinsing the berries and putting everything together in a bowl. 

“Do we need a bib?” he asked, the first spoonful already poised and ready when he arrived beside her. "You used to make a mess with blueberries and yogurt. Picked all the berries out and dumped the yogurt all over—"

“I’m going to hit you if you don't stop.” 

“No, you’re not,” Emmett answered with a smile. “It’ll ruin your pretty nails.” 

Mia huffed. “A risk I’m willing to—”

Emmett pushed the spoon into Mia’s mouth, quieting his sister's threat with yogurt and berries which Mia had no choice but to chew and swallow.

“Can you not do that?”  

Mia covered her mouth this time as she spoke, protecting herself from any unexpected spoon feeding. 

“We’re on a strict timeline, kiddo,” Emmett answered. “Now, open up for the choo choo train. Chugga chugga chug—!”

“Stop or I’ll—”

“Eat all your breakfast?” Emmett suggested as he successfully delivered another bite into Mia’s mouth. “You do realize I’m trying to help you here, right?” 

Mia chewed and swallowed before continuing. “You’re being an idiot. I’m not a baby and it’s not—” 

Funny, that was what Mia was about to say, but instead another spoonful of breakfast crashed into the side of her mouth, landing half in and half out, yogurt dripping down her chin. 

“EMMETT!” Mia shouted as he leapt up, reaching across the island for a towel which he used to wipe his sister’s face. 

“I guess we did need a bib after all.” 

“You know, I may not be able to use my hands, but I can still kick you.” 

Emmett snorted. “Then it really would be like old times, wouldn’t it?” he asked, “A full on tantrum while you're in the highchair.”

“Can we just get this over with?”

“Stop talking so much and it won’t be a problem,” he said, scraping at the sides of the bowl. “Last bite, Mi Mi. Spaceship coming in for a special landing.”  

Mia huffed at the commentary, but opened her mouth, allowing Emmett to feed her the last bite. 

“You’re a menace,” she said as he wiped at her mouth once again. 

“You should talk,” Emmett answered. “An absolute terror.” 

“If I am, I learned it all from—”

Emmett lifted his sister in his arms, silencing the words from her mouth and removing the breath from her lungs as he rushed her out to the car. 

“Right on time,” Carlisle commented as Emmett dropped his sister into the backseat.

“Yeah, but at what cost?” Mia complained. “He got yogurt all over me and was acting like a—” 

“I cleaned it up,” he answered. “And it wouldn’t have happened if you just let the choo choo into the—”

“Don’t even say it,” Mia warned. 

“Into the station,” Emmett finished with a grin. 

“The choo choo?" Esme asked as she turned in the passenger seat to face Mia and Emmett, a fond smile on her lips. "You used to love the choo choo when you were a baby.”

“Yeah, well, that may be so, but I’m not exactly a baby anymore.”

“You’ll always be our baby, right, Carlisle?” she said, reaching out to squeeze her husband’s hand. 

"I'm afraid that's exactly how it works, sweetheart," Carlisle answered. "Nothing that can be done about it."

Mia took a breath. She tried not to get angry at her parents for expressing these types of sentiments, embarrassing as they could be. She knew they came from a good place, just like she knew she didn't truly mind them thinking of her that way. Most of the time, she quite enjoyed their doting nature.

It was just her siblings who annoyed her with it.

“That’s right,” Emmett added with a smirk. “You’ll be the baby even when you’re seventy-two. Better get used to it.” 

“Only if you get used to the fact that you’ll still be an idiot.” 

“An idiot who loves you even when you’re a menace.”

Mia opened her mouth to argue further, but Carlisle cut off the conversation, reminding them of the time and their need to get going.  

“See ya later, alligator,” Emmett said as he grabbed the seatbelt, pulling it around her and securing it in place.

Like the special breakfast jingle and choo choo train spoon feedings, the phrase was a blast from the past, something Mia had once insisted on when saying goodbye to her family members, but she hadn’t heard it from Emmett's lips in ages.

Still, the answer rolled off her tongue as if the response was automatic, as if she couldn't stop herself even if she tried.

“After a while, crocodile,” Mia answered with a well-natured eye roll directed at her brother, a bright smile on his face.

“Have a safe trip, kiddo,” he offered before placing a kiss on her forehead and shutting the car door, sending them on their way right on schedule. 

—

Twilight (Mia Cullen) Masterlist

Comfy-vember 2024 Masterlist

[delimeful]

be unbroken or be brave again (3)

warnings: threats, fear, arguing, cliffhanger

-

The first obstacle to their little road trip was convincing Roman to dress appropriately for the journey.

The armor itself wasn’t all that stand-out. Patton had seen plenty of well-funded mercenaries out there who could afford an enchantment or two for their greaves. The coat of arms stamped on everything, on the other hand…

In all fairness, they had kidnapped the guy. He’d already been uncertain about, well, just about everything in the situation so far, and now he was being told that he couldn’t even wear his favorite accessories.

Patton would have had a little bit more sympathy if the accessories in question weren’t all emblazoned with the decorative sigil of Faerin, a kingdom that had personally victimized his best friend, as well as frequently seeming to make trouble whenever and wherever it pleased.

Plus, the other thing was—

“If you walk into town with that on, we’re all gonna get jumped,” Virgil said bluntly, waggling the blade of Roman’s dagger at the coat of arms brightly emblazoned on multiple pieces of the knight’s armor. “Seriously, ditch it.”

Roman huffed, holding a scandalized hand up to his chest as though Virgil had told him to strip down to his trousers and jump into a briar patch. “We will not get attacked! Faerin isn’t currently at war with any of the nearby territories.”

“Wow, real gracious of them,” Virgil replied flatly, and Patton jumped in to prevent the tensions from rising any further.

“Roman, kiddo, it’s not really about the war,” he explained, holding his hands up peaceably. “It’s more about all the taxes. People really don’t like the kingdom’s policies, so as soon as you get clear of the enforced territories, well. Folks out here tend to atax first, ask questions second when it comes to Faerin.”

Virgil snorted, leaning back against the wall and twirling the blade in his hand smoothly. He had flatly refused to give the dagger back to Roman even when Patton asked him in private, which was how he knew this little venture was really putting his friend on edge.

It wasn’t fair of him to ask Virgil to do this, not really, but he couldn’t help but ask anyhow. To meet another survivor of one of the worst days of his life and find that they’d developed a hatred of the very one who’d saved him that day… it was too sad to bear, so Patton was going to fix it! Or, he was going to try really hard to, at least.

The fixing process would have gone much smoother if the pair of them would stop jumping like startled cats every time one or the other did anything, but Patton had no say in that. Virgil was twitchy by nature, and Roman had proven rather reactive himself.

“These could have perfectly useful applications as well, you know!” Roman huffed, running his fingers over the embroidered underlayer he’d been about to put on. “Imagine if we run into a fellow Faerin knight out there? My kingdom’s symbol could grant us an ally, as simply as that, giving us more protection from malignant forces!”

Patton resisted the urge to grimace at the very idea.

Less restrained, Virgil reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose for a moment, and then huffed out a disbelieving exhale, sheathing the dagger. “Okay, sure, let’s imagine that. After you get done exchanging obnoxiously overdramatic greetings with this imaginary knight who somehow survived out there without getting robbed, what then? What do you think your fellow knight will have to say when you let it slip that I’m a dragonwitch, infamously the number one enemy of your kingdom?”

Roman immediately descended into sputtering, his shoulders hunching at Virgil’s sharp critiques. “We— Obviously I would inform them of the specifics of the situation, and let them know that despite what it may look like, there’s no reason to worry and nothing to fear, for I have everything well in hand!”

At the words, Virgil went still for a moment, a sudden edge of danger seeping into his rigid posture. Pushing off the wall, he stalked closer to where Roman stood, gaze flinty and mouth slanted. For every step closer he got, Roman’s shoulders bunched up further with tension, his hand dropping to his hip as though to draw a blade that was no longer sheathed there.

Patton thought about getting involved, and then decided that he couldn’t step in every time the two of them started bickering. He had to let them do some olive branching of their own! Virgil wasn’t the best gardener, but anyone could wield a spade if they tried hard enough! It would probably be fine.

… Emphasis on probably.

For his part, Virgil leaned forward slowly until he was practically looming over Roman, and let his leathery wings slowly rise like the mantle of a bird of prey, the early morning light reflecting off his scales like oil gleaming in a lantern’s glow. He tilted his head with a menacing, narrow-eyed smile, sharp teeth on full display. “Do you have everything well in hand, Princey?”

Roman swallowed, lifting his chin to meet Virgil’s gaze head-on. “As far as anyone needs to know, yes.”

Despite his bravado, his hands were clenched into shaking fists at his sides. Virgil’s malicious smile eased into something harder to read, and he rolled his eyes before backing off.

“Just get rid of the sigils. We don’t need the trouble.”

Roman’s brow furrowed for a moment, his expression hard to read, but this time, he didn’t protest.

—

The second obstacle to their road trip was convincing Roman to actually get on the road.

Or, rather, on the dragon.

“There is absolutely no way I am literally placing my life in the claws of a dragon,” Roman stated plainly, expression dour. He was trying to look aloof, but the effect was ruined by the way his gaze kept roaming back to rest on the large footprints Virgil had left in the dirt when they’d first arrived back home, unconscious knight in hand.

“That’s probably the smartest thing he’s said all day,” Virgil added unhelpfully, picking dirt out from beneath aforementioned claws with his pilfered blade. “Give the guy a prize.”

“Virgil,” Patton said, exasperated, before turning to Roman. “There’s no need to worry, Virgil is a very safe flier. Plus, you’ve already done this once before, remember?”

“You know, I actually don’t recall! How strange,” Roman retorted, re-adjusting his pauldron in short, jerky motions. “It’s almost as though someone clubbed me over the head with a big rock or something. Imagine that!”

Patton’s cheeks went a little hot, and he cleared his throat pointedly. “Well, I was there, and he was very careful to make sure neither of us got hurt! To be honest, I was pretty darn nervous being that high up, too. Really, heights like that aren’t always fall they’re cracked up to be!”

“Don’t add pun-based insult to my injury, I beseech you,” Roman replied, grimacing. “And I’m not afraid of heights themselves, I’m afraid of being dropped from them!”

Virgil snorted, finally sticking the sheathed dagger in his boot and ambling away from them. “If you want to avoid assassination attempts, maybe stop giving out free ideas, Princey. Not that it matters. If I was going to kill you, I’d do it human-shaped. More fun that way.”

Ignoring Patton’s exasperated look and Roman’s squawk of offense alike, Virgil walked over to the middle of the clearing, taking care to circle around the daffodils Patton had planted as he went. He stopped once he had a wide stretch of space between him and any potential obstacles, glancing back over briefly with his lips pressed tightly together.

Patton gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up, mostly to encourage and support him, and a little bit to remind him that no matter what happened with Roman, Patton would always be there at his best friend’s side.

Virgil offered him a slight upturn of the lips, more grimace than smile, but he seemed a bit more relaxed when he closed his eyes and turned away from them, hand lifting to press against the little purple stone set between his collarbones.

“Wait, he’s not actually going to—,” Roman started, only to be cut off by Patton flapping his hands at him in a shushing gesture, eyes still locked on his friend.

Virgil rolled his shoulders, drew his wings close around himself, and then began to stretch the leathery appendages out, wider and wider. There was a thick crackling noise, like bones snapping or lightning running through an old tree, and with a twist, Virgil shifted into his largest form.

It only took a few moments, the air around him warping strangely, and then, there he stood, tail brushing the ground as he shook himself like a very, very oversized dog after a bath. The dust stirred around them from the intensity of it.

Roman had yelped and skipped back a fair few steps, but Patton didn’t bother even shuffling out of the way. Sure enough, none of those huge claws even got close enough to think about grazing him.

He knew his friend, and so he knew that Virgil was a worrier like no other. Frankly, Virgil’s pinky finger probably held more caution in it than a grown man or three had in their whole bodies. His human pinky, not the dragon one, to boot.

Patton was probably the safest he’d ever been, standing in the shadow of Virgil’s wings. He sure felt that way, at least.

“Hey, kiddo!”

Virgil perked up at the call, shuffling around a bit to lower his big scaly head into closer range. He was rumbling low in his chest, not necessarily loudly, but still definitely big enough that Patton could feel the noise in his bones.

He reached out and embraced the surprisingly soft snout as Virgil nudged it lightly against him, huffing lightly and waiting patiently for Patton to get his fill of impromptu dragon cuddles.

Patton smiled to himself. This was a far better sight to see than the nervous, flinching way that Virgil had acted that first time he’d shifted, when he kept sneaking glances at Patton like he was waiting for him to realize what he was and run screaming for the hills.

When he finally pulled back and turned to grab their bags, he found Roman standing only a few meters away, looking more strung out than a ball of yarn rolled down a hill. His hand was once again hovering near his side as though seeking a weapon to draw, a nervous tell.

“Is he still… He’s kept his mind?” Roman asked, eyes flickering down to Patton for the briefest moment before returning to the intense stare he was directing at Virgil.

Patton reminded himself that in Roman’s eyes, the only reason a dragonwitch would take this form would be to wreak havoc, and managed to keep himself from frowning too overtly at the knight.

“Virgil is Virgil, no matter which form he’s in,” he replied, forcing some pep into his step as he scooped up the first of their bags. “He’s just a little more… caught up in his instincts, when he’s in this form.”

That was how Virgil had explained all the happy rumbling and gentle nudges the first time, at least. Patton had made the merciful decision not to tease him about the purring.

“Oh, so murder is still on the table, then,” Roman muttered, finally breaking the stare-off to avert his gaze as Patton sent him a pointed look. “Joking! Just a joke, much like the one our reptilian associate made mere moments ago!”

“Mhmm,” Patton hummed dubiously as he turned back to Virgil. “Well, Mister Jokester, it’s time to get moving! We wouldn’t want the daylight hours to drag-on without us!”

Apparently feeling more confident now that he was the size of a house, Virgil yawned loudly— the sight of which made Roman go a bit grey— and then settled into a resting position to allow Patton to clamber up onto his back.

It only took a handful of minutes for Patton to successfully haul up and tie down their bags, with Virgil’s ears carefully flicking back to listen to his humming as he made sure everything was tightly secured to the spikes along his dragonic friend’s spine.

It took more than twice that time for Roman to stop staring dumbfoundedly at Virgil and actually begin to approach.

Of course, the moment he got within a few meters range, Virgil’s large slitted pupil flicked over to watch the knight, making him freeze mid-step like a deer before a mountain lion.

Patton resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he slid down to stand at Virgil’s side. At this rate, they wouldn’t even get off the ground until noon.

“That’s Roman, remember?” he reminded Virgil, reaching up to pat his shoulder in the hopes of helping him refocus on the task at hand. “You looked after him while he was sick, and now he’s traveling with us for a bit.”

Virgil blinked, his gaze still following Roman’s every move, with far less irritation than Patton would have expected. His pupils had even rounded out slightly, making him look far more friendly in Patton’s opinion.

For some reason, this didn’t seem to reassure Roman.

“C’mon!” Patton gestured for Roman to approach, and Roman shook his head vehemently, as though Patton was insane for even asking.

As though prompted by the exchange, Virgil rumbled and shuffled around a bit in place, his paws creeping forward and head dipping lower in a pose that Patton didn’t recognize until he noticed the dragon’s tail swishing back and forth behind him.

Roman picked up on what was about to happen much quicker, going by the way he went pale and immediately attempted to scramble away.

“Virgil, wait—,” Patton attempted, and then sighed as his friend lunged forward like a cat pouncing, eliciting a terrified shriek from the knight they were supposed to be befriending.

Well. At least none of the bags had been jarred loose by the motion.

The screaming was a little concerning, but Patton was sure that Virgil wasn’t going to murder the guy or anything, so he didn’t bother rushing as he circled around to see what was going on.

What was going on was that Virgil had neatly pinned Roman down with one clawed paw, and was now snuffling at him intently.

Huh. That was a lot less aggressive posturing than Patton had expected, honestly. The more he watched, the more it looked like Virgil was checking Roman over the same way he had inspected Patton for injuries earlier, all gentle nudges and enquiring chuffs.

Not that one would have guessed listening to them. Roman yowled like he was being murdered for at least a solid half a minute after it became clear that there was no mauling going on. Patton pursed his lips, trying not to look too amused at the knight’s expense.

“He’s just checking on you,” he took the opportunity to say once Roman’s shouts had wound down to bewildered, rapid breathing. “He did the same to me, remember?”

Roman shot him a panicked, disbelieving glance from under his impromptu dragon-paw prison. “Yours was far less intensive than— than this!”

Patton shrugged. “Maybe he was just more worried because you were so sick for a while there?”

It made sense, when he thought about it. Virgil had always been a real mother hen whenever Patton so much as got the sniffles, and that was with a much smaller fraction of a dragon’s instinctual possessive worry. Patton had always endured his best friend’s neuroses about illness with as much patience as he could manage, but Roman hadn’t been willing to let Virgil do so much as a checkup once he’d woken up properly. Virgil’s pride wouldn’t let him insist on looking after the slayer after he was conscious enough to be kind of a jerk again, but not knowing the condition of someone he’d been responsible for had to be driving his friend crazy.

“Worried wasn’t really the impression I was getting from Virgil,” Roman gasped out, the tension in his frame slowly leaking away the longer he remained unharmed.

“Really?” Patton asked, a little surprised despite knowing his friend wasn’t exactly the open type. “Well, there’s your first lesson: Virgil’s always worried.”

The dragon in question glanced over at Patton a little sourly, and whuffled at Roman one last time before withdrawing, apparently entirely unapologetic for nearly scaring the soul out of their guest.

Roman lay on the ground for a moment longer, looking a little like he’d been struck by a runaway carriage. He sat up and patted himself down as though checking that he was still all in one piece.

He was, of course. Virgil sent him a slanted, disdainful look for thinking otherwise.

“Are you ready to give this a proper try, now?” Patton asked with an encouraging grin, reaching out to offer him a hand up.

Roman cleared his throat extensively, looking a little red around the ears, but ultimately accepted the help without much protest. He took a deep breath, regaining his composure.

This time, when he turned to survey Virgil’s draconic form, it was with more wary determination than outright fear.

“Very well,” he said, stepping forward. “Let’s get this over with.”

—

The third obstacle to their road trip was finding a place to stop for the night.

Not, as one might assume, because of a lack of safe or viable options on the ground below. No, it was convincing his companions to land at all that was proving to be the issue.

As it turned out, Roman’s fear of the flight had lasted for about as long as it took for Virgil to do his first midair spin, at which point he’d whooped with astounded delight so loudly that even folks on the next continent over had probably heard him.

“Gods above, you’re fast!” he’d gasped, clinging to Virgil’s leg as the land flashed by distantly below them. “There’s no way you could do that from higher up, though.”

It seemed Virgil was easier to goad than ever in this form, because he’d immediately taken a sharp incline, earning him yelps from his passengers. Between the two of them, the bulk of their flight was spent doing gravity-defying tricks and thrilling dives to just barely skim the mountains below.

Patton was glad they’d found something in common at last. He would have preferred they bond over a hobby that wasn’t so terribly dangerous and liable to make him so dizzy he upchucked, but beggars couldn’t be choosers!

He really was begging to reach land soon, though. Best friend or no, there was only so much strain a guy’s poor heart could take.

Plus, he’d plotted out their course with a little detour, and if they kept racing on like this, they might overshoot it completely. They were traveling all this way, it would be a downright shame if they couldn’t at least stop by and say hello to one of Virgil’s other buddies!

—

The fourth obstacle in their road trip was that Patton had forgotten just what kinds of acquaintances a Dragonwitch might have.

Or more importantly— what these acquaintances might think of the company Virgil was currently keeping.

This particular obstacle arrived at their camp that night in the form of an arm suddenly wrapping around Patton’s neck from behind, tugging him into a barely bearable chokehold as Virgil bolted to his feet and growled out a vicious warning.

Across from him, Roman was in a similar situation, but with a wicked-looking serrated blade pressed right up against his jugular, and a pair of unearthly yellow eyes visible over his shoulder.

“My, my,” a smooth voice broke the silence, making Virgil twitch. “I wonder what business a Faerin knight and his tagalongs have in my stretch of the woods?”

Uh oh. It looked like maybe their little detour would take longer than he’d expected…

[artiststarme]

Steve's Parents Are Dead

The angsty parent fic suggested by @newtstabber! I hope you guys like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments!

~*~*~*~

Steve never had a great relationship with his parents. Both his mother and his father were raging workaholics that didn’t want to put their careers on hold to raise a child at home. Not when they could be socializing with new clientele, expanding their businesses, and enjoying their lives. He was raised as a child by a revolving door of nannies with infrequent visits from his parents. 

Steve knew they loved him though. Whenever they were in Hawkins for more than a few days at a time, his dad would take him to play basketball at the park or to practice swimming laps in the pool. His mother would cook him her famous spaghetti with the sauce no one else’s ever compared to. He could tell they cared, they just had a hard time showing it. Their jobs would always take priority over Steve, their pride and joy rested with their work instead of their son. 

But that was alright. Their love language was gift giving and he could feel the love whenever he found an envelope of cash on the table or a new polo shirt gifted upon their return. It became apparent before he even truly realized that even though they loved him, they didn’t love him enough to discover his own love language. The concepts of quality time or words of affirmation were as cold as distant as they were. 

They could be assholes sometimes, especially with regard to his minor teenage delinquencies. But he knew they cared. When his dad screamed at him for drinking underage, he thought he was an asshole. Even more so when he got grounded after letting Barb disappear from his own backyard. Afterwards though when his dad pulled him in for a tight hug and murmured that he loved him and needed him to be careful, Steve felt bad for calling him names to his friends. 

When his mom rushed to take a red-eye flight back to Hawkins when she heard about Steve’s ‘fight’ with Billy and cuddled up next to him in the hospital bed, Steve had never felt more loved. She called off work for weeks just to make sure he was okay and fully recovered from his concussion before she went on her next business trip. His parents weren’t the best and they weren’t winning any parenting awards but they continuously proved how much they loved him. They were all Steve had and he loved them dearly despite their faults and his occasional teenage angst.

It all changed in one day. All it took was a drunk driver veering onto the wrong side of the road and Steve was an orphan. 

He always knew there was distance between them but in death it became insurmountable. The weekly calls with his mother were gone. The sports discussions and talks about girls with his dad were nevermore. Steve was well and truly alone. His parents were dead, his old friends hated him, and his ex-girlfriend that he still loved had left him for another guy. All he had was himself in a too-big house with a too-empty heart. 

He couldn’t sleep and he certainly couldn’t focus on college applications. So, he bought some weed from Munson and started filling out work applications after graduation. 

From the day he found out about his parents’ deaths, he didn’t speak of them at all. He didn’t need the pity of his teachers, his ex-girlfriend and the guy she cheated on him with, and he certainly didn’t need comfort from the kids. He zipped his lips and carried on as if nothing had happened. No one needed to know that he cried himself to sleep or that he had to take down all of the family photos to function. Who would care enough to ask anyways?

The Party noticed eventually. Everyone had noticed that Steve’s parents didn’t come up in conversation but no one ever had the guts to ask why. He’d say comments every now and again but they all lead to more questions. None of them had ever met his parents and really, none of them could even remember seeing them around Hawkins either. They all had their own theories but they were too scared of the truth to speculate on them.

Nancy had heard about the senior Harringtons exactly once. When she’d first gone to the police about Barb’s disappearance, Steve had begged her not to mention the alcohol that had been at the party. He’d seemed really worried about his dad finding out he was drinking and at the time, she couldn’t focus past the fact that he seemed to care more about getting in trouble with his dad than he did about finding Barb. Whenever she thought about the fear on his face back then or the closed off expression he developed now when the topic of family came up, she felt a deep dread in her stomach. Something wasn’t right here but she never wanted him to feel neglected or let down so she never brought them up to him. 

Robin had only heard a single comment from Steve about his parents and she wasn’t 100% sure if she actually heard it or if it was her imagination. When she and Steve were tied back to back in the underground Russian lair, he mentioned something about ‘maybe seeing his parents again’ when she asked if he was dying over there. She took it to mean that Steve really wanted to see them when they busted out of there. But then when everyone else involved in the mall fire had their families surrounding them, she saw Steve sitting alone on the curb pressing an ice pack to his head. When she saw him next and asked about his parents, he had a grimace on his face and changed the subject. She never brought it up again. It wasn’t her place to speculate and talking about it obviously hurt her best friend so she made sure to avoid talking about familial topics much in general. She had some thoughts but refused to voice them in fear of discovering something they couldn’t come back from. 

Dustin was perhaps the only person Steve had spoken to about his parents at any length. On one occasion, he was lectured on the importance of family by Steve when he told his mom he hated her in an argument in front of him. It had been a long day and he wanted nothing more than to eat his dinner in peace and quiet before going to bed. Steve was over that day for their monthly dinner because Claudia thought he was getting too skinny. Dustin’s mom was being a little more overbearing than usual, more suffocating and he snapped. 

“Jesus Christ, mom! Leave me alone! I hate you!”

There was a moment of silence before his mom stood from her seat and bustled out of the room. When Dustin turned to apologize to Steve, he was already glaring at him. 

“You don’t talk to your mom like that, Henderson. She loves you so much and after all you’ve put her through, I’m surprised. You don’t even realize how lucky you are! I wish that I had parents that loved me even half as much as your mom loves you. She does everything for you and you treat her like shit! Go apologize to Claudia right now or I’m not driving you anywhere ever again. Go.” Then, Steve walked out the door and didn’t come back until Claudia called him herself. 

After that, not only did Dustin have a new appreciation for his mom but he also had a new hatred for Steve’s parents. They were off gallivanting around Europe or wherever else and Steve was being neglected back in Hawkins! Him and his mom made a point to invite him over a lot more after that.

Eddie only heard about Steve’s parents because he got Steve high enough that he lost his filter. When he asked what Steve always wanted to do, he didn’t know. “Man, I was always just going to work for my dad’s company, you know? Just-just take the easy way out and work for my old man. Now, I couldn’t even do it if I wanted to. He’s gone and he left disappointed in me.”

Eddie had no idea what the fuck he was talking about but he assumed that Steve’s dad had left him and his mom while he went off and screwed his secretaries or whatever else rich white guys did. He felt a renewed anger towards the man. Jesus, Steve’s parents sucked and he deserved so much better. 

The way the entire Party found out was of sheer coincidence. Hopper was walking through the cemetery one night on patrol after some recent vandalism reports when he saw some newer headstones he’d never seen before. When he got a glimpse of the names, he nearly knocked himself over with the force of his double-take. 

Richard Harrington 

January 22, 1937 - May 17, 1985

Martha Harrington

August 23, 1939 - May 17, 1985

What the fuck? That would’ve been before his ‘death’ at Starcourt. Hell, it would’ve been before Steve’s graduation from high school. Hopper needed answers right that second, screw the vandalism reports. 

He didn’t expect to barge into a DnD session in the Harrington living room when he got there but that wasn’t going to stop him from getting his answers. Steve was standing in the doorway of the living room with a bowl of cheese puffs in hand but he turned to look at Hopper in confusion when he slammed the door open. “Hey Hop, what’re you-”

“Why didn’t you tell me your parents died, kid? You’ve been living here alone? What the hell, Steve.”

Apparently his friends didn’t know either because every head whipped to face him in shock simultaneously. 

“What the fuck?!”

“How long?!”

“Jesus H. Christ, Harrington! Open book, my ass.”

“Woah.”

“Well that’s a little heavy for a Thursday.”

Steve put the bowls down on a side table before giving Hopper the most unimpressed look he could muster. “I didn’t see the relevance. I’m obviously fine on my own.”

“Wh-you-hnh… Fucking hell, Steve! That’s not the point! You lost your parents and didn’t tell anyone!” Hopper yelled in frustration.

“Oh my god,” Robin gasped suddenly. “When you said you might see your parents again when we were getting tortured, you meant you’d see them when you died! Oh my god, you thought we were going to die?!”

Steve looked taken aback, “We were getting tortured in an underground Russian bunker. Of course I thought we were going to die! Luckily for us, I’m always wrong so we didn’t!”

Gareth, Grant, and Jeff were looking between the two of them in shock. Russian torture? They were not supposed to be hearing that. Meanwhile the rest of the Party was focused on berating Steve. 

“Steve, why didn’t you tell me?” Nancy asked him quietly. 

He chuckled sardonically, “oh you mean track down my ex-girlfriend, the one that said I was bullshit and cheated on me, to cry about my parents dying? Yeah, I wasn't really interested in doing that.”

“You could’ve told me! You could’ve told Mrs. Byers or Hopper. You don’t keep secrets from the Party!” Dustin yelled at him. 

“Why are you all yelling at me? Half of us weren’t even friends when they died and the rest of you weren’t around. So why are you mad at me?’’ Steve backed into the hallway wall, as far as he could get from the rest of them and hugged his arms around himself. 

“Stevie, we’re just surprised. No one here is mad at you, we’re just concerned. Why didn’t you tell anyone they died?” Eddie comforted, walking towards Steve with his hands up placatingly. 

“I told you my parents weren’t around anymore when you sold weed that summer.”

“Uhhhhh,” Eddie glanced nervously at Hopper who was glaring at him already. “Okay, let’s maybe leave that out of the story in front of the cops. Why didn’t you ask anyone for help?”

“I didn’t have anyone to ask. Look, I’m done talking about it. You guys can keep playing but I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

“Steve-”

“Hopper, unless you’re arresting me right now, I’m leaving,” he waited a moment and when Hopper didn’t move, he nodded. “Great, night guys.”

They had to talk more about it later and they’d have to apologize for their anger but for now, the Party would ignore how Steve went to bed and Eddie followed. 

Permanent tag list: @doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @carlyv @pyrohonk @straight4joekeery @trippypancakes @conversesweetheart @estrellami-1 @suddenlyinlove @yikes-a-bee @swimmingbirdrunningrock @perseus-notjackson @anaibis @merricatty @maya-custodios-dionach @grtwdsmwhr @manda-panda-monium @lumoschild @goodolefashionedloverboi @mentallyundone @awkwardgravity1

[josphitia]

Josie's Cow HRT Journey Part 6 - Snake and the Cow

Nobody wanted to leave this congregation of creatures. Everyone was having the time of their life in an environment of pure acceptance. There was so much exchanging of phone numbers. But this was just a patchwork fix to keep these bonds close-knit. Everyone wanted a more concrete solution to solidifying this group of wayward animals. Luckily, the blue-scaled Lamia who had organized this get-together had a great idea: To keep in touch easily, she would create a Chaos server for us all to cavort in. We gave her our emails and she would reach out to us when it was created.

A week had passed since then and my thoughts kept drifting to that day. My body was still accepting the hormones but there was little progress that had been made in a single week’s time. My snout was growing but not fully there, though you could tell I had a cute pink stamp forming at the end. My ears were tapering but still very much humanoid. My horns were disappointingly small… My fingernails were completely black now and had grown thick. But, the one thing that surprised me was how fast my feet were changing! To the point I wasn't even comfortable calling them feet anymore! My toes were fusing together along with my nails into a hard, black hoof. Not fully formed but enough that I was walking on what appeared to be “tippy toes” to everyone else. I was so happy seeing these changes every day!

But I was lonely… My husband was still on a business trip across the country. We would message each other when we could, but it was little compensation for the lack of his presence. It did not fill the need I had to talk to people on the same road as me… I was too shy to exchange numbers with anyone at the support group, so the eventual server was my lifeline to keeping in touch with the numerous animals I had met. Before bed I received an email that, considering the name “BlueSerpentVibes”, I had a guess as to who it could have been. Within the message was a simple hyperlink that said “Invite” that I clicked, as it opened my Chaos application on my desktop. Yet as excited as I had been to finally talk with all of the critters, I just didn’t have the mental bandwidth that night. It was too anxiety inducing seeing the deluge of messages in the “Introductions” tab and the many messages that were quickly filling up the “General” tab. So, I went to sleep, feeling a little guilty at myself that I didn’t stay up to introduce myself. But soon my thoughts drifted away into the realm of sleep. 

And so roughly 6 hours later I awoke to a *ping* and 7 friend requests. I eagerly accepted them all, staring and admiring the growing collection of people who were happy to actually continue talking to me. I wasn’t used to that. The server itself was still moving at such a speed I could barely understand who was talking. It seemed like everyone already knew each other... But I wanted to atleast make myself known to the server at large; that I had joined and was eager to talk to people, even if the chat itself was moving too fast for me to be comfortable in. I wrote something short, with a hastily taken selfie, and posted it in Introductions:

“Hi, I’m Josie! My pronouns are she/her. I’m taking CowHRT! I’m so excited to talk to everyone here, I had a great time at the support group. Feel free to DM me!”

Then I waited. But it wasn’t long before I had someone sending me a message. 

Gio-“Boop! : D 

Sooooooo”

Uh, wow okay. That was quick. Didn’t really know what to say except to follow suit, I guess:

Josie-“Sooooo”

Gio-“You were the short haired cow in the support group right?”

Someone actually remembered me! That was a surprise. I didn’t really know how to proceed apart from small talk, but that’s how all friendships start I suppose.

Josie-“Uh yeah, that was me. Although maybe you’re thinking of the other cow that was there?”

Gio-“Oh nah you look completely different. I mean, both cows, but I recognize ya from your selfie. So, how’ve you been?”

Josie-“Well good, I guess. Been looking forward to catching up with the people I met then. Although I’m sorry… Your profile picture’s just of a mountain. Could you remind me who you were there?”

Gio-”Oh, I had green hair and scales :D I was hanging around the goat for a while before we mingled some.” 

Josie-”Oh the king cobra guy!”

Gio-”...king cobra guy? Don’t remember the name huh.”

Josie-”Uhm, sorry…”

Gio-”It’s okay. The person you were talking to was Scalin.”

Josie-”Okies, hi Scalin!”

Gio-”No you’re talking to Gio right now.”

Josie-”Uh, okay sorry. Are you using their account or…?”

Gio-”Oh no this is our Chaos account. But you’re talking to Gio right now, not Scalin. Scalin’s in the back. My pronouns are Drae/draer/draer/draers/draeself.” 

Josie-”Oh thank you! I'll do my best to address you as such :3 As for Scalin, do you mean that he's like, in the back of the house or are you at work or?”

Gio-”Oh. You don’t know? We’re a system.”

Josie-”What does that mean?”

Gio sent a pluralpedia link that described plurality and systems. It was a fascinating read, though admittedly I only skimmed it so I could get back to the conversation.

Josie-”Okay, so that’s interesting. So, I was talking to someone who’s a part of your system then?”

Gio-”Yeah Scalin was the one who was at the support group. He’s taking Cobra HRT though he does think it’s funny how you referred to him as ‘King Cobra Guy.’ But right now you’re talking to me, Gio. I would be considered the host. Well co-host. Usually Heath is up here too.”

Josie-”Well what would you like to talk about? As happy as I am to talk about plurality and systems I don’t think that’s why you started messaging me.” 

Gio-”Hm. Well I was thinking of hosting a movie theater get together at the place where I work. But I wanted to get some opinions first. Scalin was saying you two had talked about movies and upcoming ones. It wouldn’t be for another month or so though. But I thought it would be fun to host a get together around some sort of activity rather than just going to the support group again!”

 Gio-”Also I gotta brb.”

Josie-”Uh okay.”

A few minutes passed before he, or they I suppose, started typing again.

Heath-”Salutations! Pleased to be back on the air~!”

Josie-”Whu? We were just talking. Unless, okay. Are you another… headmate? Alter?”

Heath-”I am indeed. The nomenclature that I am most often referred to as is Heath, though I’ve been known to go by different names such as Alastor or the Radio Demon.”

Josie-”Okay… Well, hi Heath. I was just talking to Gio about him hosting a get together at his movie theater.”

Heath-”Oh I know! I was watching that boorish conversation. But a get together in-front of one of those noisy ‘silver screens’ might be quite fun indeed. The only obstacle we can foresee is the matter of transportation. However I might have just the remedy to that conundrum.”

Josie-”Oh? And what’s the remedy to that?”

Heath-”Why I can’t just tell you! It’s something to be experienced! Enjoyed! But even before all that, there’s a simple question I have to ask… Do we have a deal?”

Josie-”Well I mean I wanna hang out with you yeah! You, or I guess Scalin, seemed really cool and I wanna hang with him more. So I guess yeah we have a deal? What now?”

Heath-”One moment.”

Josie-”Okay…” 

A few moments passed before a static covered, tall antlered fellow with scarlet red hair and a similarly colored suit stuck his hand out from my computer monitor! He yanked my arm and dragged me through the TV!

As soon as I opened my eyes I was on a jade colored mountaintop while the antlered man looked down upon me with a devilish, sharp-toothed smile.

“Welcome to our humble abode little bovine” he said, holding out a hand but never offering to help me up. I picked myself up and brushed off the… snow? It was a sort of white powdery substance that clung to my body. At a loss for words, I simply looked around at my newfound location.

A large dragon suddenly bellowed “Oh hell Heath did you soulbound someone!? Is that Josie!? WHAT DID YOU DO”

“Oh hey Josssie cool you’re here WAIT” exclaimed a tall snakefolk.

”Hm.” was all that a rather humanoid figure spoke. 

I stared at the figures before me. A dark scaled green dragon of considerable size looked down upon me with an expression of feral worry. A tan & black scaled snakefolk, of the King Cobra variety, had an exasperated look upon his face, equal parts concern and anger. And an older gentleman wearing a dark green coat and balancing himself on a cane whose handle appeared to be a stylized charizard. Even though I hadn't met them in these forms, I could hazard a guess that the Dragon was Gio and the Cobra was Scalin. I had no idea who the older gentleman was though…

”What, and how, are you even doing here?” spoke the green jacketed man.

”Uhhh I have no idea??? Where am I???” I responded in bewilderment. 

“Well you were all talking about inviting her so I just thought this would be the quickest and most efficient way!” Heath said in a surprisingly upbeat manner.

The dragon lowered draer head towards the red haired demon and growled ”How the fuck did you know your magic would work.”

”I didn’t! But she made the deal and that sufficed.” spoke Heath happily in what I was beginning to understand was his trademark tone.

Scalin turned angrily towards me hissing “You made a deal. With. HEATH!?”

”Fuck me… How was I supposed to know!? It was just a message on Chaos!” I pleaded 

”Chaos isn't actually here right now.” Gen responded sardonically

Now I was the target of Gio’s ire and words as he growled ”A guy introduces themselves as the radio demon and you don’t question making a deal?”

Scared, all I could think to say was “I THOUGHT IT WAS JUST A FIGURE OF SPEECH!”

”Well you're here now. Heath! We're at work, what are we supposed to do about this??” said the dragon, turning his attention back towards the demon.

Ever chipper, Heath calmly quipped ”Oh don't worry I was just having fun with the little cow. She'll be back in the quote unquote ‘real world and off the mountain in just a jiffy.”

Heath reached out his hand towards mine yet again. “We had a deal, remember~?”

”Josie, you can't do it. What's gonna happen next??” Scalin spoke, his hood flaring as he said this.

”I agree with Scalin. We can figure out how to fix this ourselves without his help.” Spoke the green dragon in a low, rumbling voice. 

But, despite their protests, I still reached out my hand. Heath grabbed it with a firm hold and once again the world around me tumbled as my vision was violently turned black. I opened my eyes to a “WHAT THE FUCK” from the same green haired man I had spoken to at the support group. 

“Oh. Hi?” was all I could think to say as drae breathed heavily in front of me, a mix of anger and surprise. My surroundings were that of a movie theater; and somehow I was sitting on the sticky floor behind the concession stand. 

“Gio?? What's wrong?” spoke a short balding man as he made his way towards us. “N-nothing sir, I uh.” 

I figured this would be the best chance to make myself known to this guy’s apparent boss. “Hi!” I said, jolting up from the floor. “I was just dropping by to say hi to… Gio! I'm his friend!”

“Hmmm” was all the man let out as he gave me a cursory, cautionary check over up and down. “Welp, I've been needing someone to work concessions! And by your looks you're one of them thur-rains like Gio right?”

“Uh. Yeah? You can tell I'm a cow?”

“Kinda hard to not notice little missy. And I have big plans, big plans. World's first Thur-rain friendly movie theater! You people will come from all over to watch films in my theaters! Now, do you want a job or not? Consider this your first day on the job. Gio can give you the rundown but. Gio! The main theater ends in 20 minutes, I'm gonna need you in there by then so it's clean before the 4 o’clock showing.”

As he walked away Gio gave me a quick rundown. That no matter who might be fronting, the outside knew draer only as Gio. Luckily it actually *was* Gio at this time in charge of the body so I wouldn't be misnaming my newfound friend. Gio and I got to formulating theories as to what just happened. How Heath pulled me from my home to his headspace and then to this theater. But, ultimately, we were at a bit of a loss. I had wanted to come visit anyways, just not like this… Heath had saved me the cost of a bus ticket but had stranded me halfway across the country. Gio had already scheduled with the others in the server that the meetup would be in a few weeks so everyone had a chance to arrange transportation. 

I looked up the prices and we both deduced it would cost me three times as much to head home and come back rather than just waiting out the three weeks here… I had already been using up my vacation time from work so I'd be able to be home during the onset of my transition… I was set to start again Monday. But, I called my work and took another 4 weeks off. Luckily I had quite the amount of sick time banked. And it seemed I had a job lined up here for me so I could at least pay for my own hotel and essentials. 

The rest of the day was spent haphazardly serving popcorn and drinks to waves of hungry customers. The boss was just happy to have a new face to speak his eccentricities towards. I could tell by the eye rolls of my new coworkers these were all diatribes they had heard before. The day went by surprisingly quickly, actually, and before I knew it Gio was helping me to clock out and offered to drive me to the nearest hotel. 

The car ride was full of the usual conversation topics of a newly forming friendship, if one created under unusual circumstances. Favorite foods, favorite music, commiserating on the evils of capitalism, those sorts of things. Drae dropped me off outside the hotel with a half-hug and a goodbye. But before drae drove off I could see a wide smile creep across Gio’s face and a thought permeated my mind. I knew that my previous encounter with Heath would not be my last.

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Josie's Cow HRT Journey

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King Cobra HRT Month 1.5

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Hope you enjoyed Part 6! Created with the help of @thecrystalmountainsystem ! They created and supplied the art as well as helping with the general structure of this chapter. Check out their own Animal HRT series: Cobra HRT!

Thanks for looking!

[sasheneskywalker]

dc fic summaries i have in my drafts

(the fics are in various stages of completion, but i plan to finish them all)

demolition lovers [jason/tim]

The last time Tim saw Jason Todd, the man had brutally beaten him up and stabbed him in the chest with a batarang. He hadn't heard anything about him since Dick and Damian helped Red Hood rescue his sidekick, so Tim put him out of his mind, focusing on more important issues.

But a chance encounter in another country makes him realize that he and Jason are working on the same case and when the fate of the world seems to rest on their shoulders, they are forced to team up, racing against time to solve what might just be the most dangerous mystery in their careers yet.

triangles are the strongest shape [tim/kon/bernard]

Tim comes out to his friends and tells them he has a boyfriend. Kon mopes over ice cream like a moody preteen girl. Bernard eyes his boyfriend’s hunky best friend contemplatively

three for a wedding [jason/tim/roy]

While on a mission Jason and Roy touch a strange artifact that forces them to get married or risk dying painfully. It wouldn’t be a problem except Jason is secretly dating Tim and Roy has been pining after his best friend for ages.

baby, i'm an outlaw [jason/helena]

They woke up together in an unfamiliar bed, with no memories of who they were and no idea how they ended up in this situation.

Then there was the dead body lying in the corner of the room.

Or, Jason and Helena go on a road trip, kill some people, and fall in love along the way.

practical application [jason-centric]

Five times Columbia University students are surprised by Jason Todd’s skills and one time they find out how he acquired them

author’s notes [jason-centric]

Jason writes fanfiction. It's not that big of a deal, but some people apparently disagree.

Or, how gargoylejay becomes a fandom sensation.

ouroboros [jason-centric]

Jason knows the circle cannot be broken. Yet he never stops trying anyway.

keep your enemies closer [tim-centric]

Five times Tim calls on unexpected allies for help and one time he doesn’t have to.

fourth-wall observer [tim-centric]

Ever since Tim was a child, something about the universe felt off to him.

It wasn’t until he started reading books and watching TV that he realized that the world he was living in functioned in a disturbingly similar manner to those that were fictional. It was ruled by certain patterns, tropes, as he called them, and he could use his knowledge of them to uncover the past, understand the present and predict the future.

Or, Tim Drake and dealing with the fact that your existence and reality are just figments of someone else’s imagination.

The Dark Dame [bruce-centric]

When Bryce was first designing her vigilante costume, she decided to leave the official name of her persona in the hands of the public. She expected something relating to the darkness, the night, the shadows that seemingly enveloped her entire being while she fought criminals in the streets. So the first time she heard the moniker “Batman” in reference to herself, she was quite taken aback. Both because people apparently thought that her suit resembled an anthropomorphic bat and that she was a man.

wheel of fortune [oc-centric]

A bored college student finds herself in the DC universe and decides to have some fun. It turns out that you can achieve a lot when you own one of the most powerful artifacts in the world.

[tippenfunkaport]

SPOP Goofy Movie AU

Glimmer wants to spend the summer before senior year sightseeing in CA and going to the big Powerline concert, a last hurrah before she's locked into the responsibilities of college applications and the plan her mother has for the rest of her life. 

Angella sees it as the perfect chance for her daughter to get a head-start on her future and for the two to repair their strained relationship by taking a road trip to visit all the best universities, networking with important contacts along the way. 

But Glimmer wants to stand out (above the crowd) and her mom's being so cringe! They clash over her hair, her clothes and the person they each want Glimmer to become (and the person Angella used to be). 

Will this trip be the thing that wrecks their relationship for good or will they finally learn to see I2I?

For Sheratober prompt: Embarrassing

[izzielizzie93]

High School Sweethearts, J Burrow

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Pairing: Highschool!JoeBurrow x Y/N High School Sweetheart

Summary: Do high school relationships last?

“What the fuck is this Y/N?!” Joe was sitting on my bed, holding up the hidden acceptance letter to The Ohio State. “I, uh, an acceptance letter.” I stuttered. “Why are you hiding it?” He glared, clutching it tighter, his eyes continually scanning over the page. “I wanted time to think and I knew I wouldn’t be able to once everyone found out.”

“I just needed to be sure of what I want, this is my future and I am so sick of everyone trying to tell me what to do.”

Joe huffed and shook his head. “Were you ever considering it, or did you lie to me this whole time?” “Of course I am considering it Joey, I want to be with you; but I have always dreamed of LSU.” I swallowed hard, digging my nails into my hand to keep from crying.

“You want to be a fucking teacher, come on you don’t have to go out of state for that shit.” Joe tossed the letter aside.

“Oh, ok. So when you told me to do what made me happy and that it would all work out in the end, you were lying to me?” I shot back, anger now bubbling to the surface.

“I was hoping you’d see that Ohio is where you need to be, apparently not.” Joe mumbled, standing up abruptly and storming out of my bedroom.

—

I had come clean to my parents as soon as Joe left and they promised to support me no matter my choice.

After two weeks of heated arguments in person, via text, and FaceTime, Joe officially committed to The Ohio State and their football team and I wasn’t there.

I was at home, formally accepting the offer from LSU and becoming a Tiger.

Later that same night, Joe stopped by and I snuck out to his truck. We sat there in silence for nearly five minutes before I spoke, “So you’re officially a Buckeye.” “You’re officially a Tiger.” He shot back. “Yeah.” I nodded. “So, we’re done.” Joe said flatly and I felt my chest tighten as my eyes filled with tears.

“We don’t have to be.” I sniffled. “Y/N, how the hell are we going to keep this up being so far apart?” Joe clenched his steering wheel. “What happened to all of the ways you came up with when we stayed up night after night filling out applications?” I asked. “I never thought we’d have to act on them.” He sighed, “I never thought I’d be without you.”

“Joe, we’re both going to be so busy in a few months. We don’t need to make any decisions now.” I reached out and he folded his hands in his lap. Dropping my hands back down, I was about to speak when Joe said, “I think it’s best if we do this now. It’s over.” I bit my lip hard as I rushed out of his truck, wanting to hold in my sobs so he didn’t see.

—

“Congratulations to the class of 2015!” I threw my cap up in the air and began to hug and celebrate with those around me. Glancing down the row, I met Joe’s gaze. We stared for a moment before I gave a small wave; which he returned.

A week later, I was all packed and ready to hit the road. My parents were in the U Haul and my sister was keeping me company in my car on the 18 hour trip. Just as I got into my car, my phone pinged.

~Good luck, Tiger~

__________

This was super short; but I’ve never posted anything I’ve written and I just wanted to put something out there! Thank you to those who read this! Should I make a part 2 after they’ve started college?

(Also I tend to stick to first person even with Y/N but do more people prefer second person and using you?)