#this is another scary one fellas

[andromebaa]

Facsimile

“Warning, a vital internal hull has been compromised. Make your way to your nearest emergency station.”

The chamber was bathed in red light, illuminating the two figures.

She stood at one end, panting, her finger poised on the trigger. He stood at the other, arms raised and drenched in sweat and a bubbling, oozing substance.

“Warning, a vital internal hull has been compromised. Make your way to your nearest emergency station.”

The automatic message continued to repeat, punctuating the agonising silence until he finally spoke.

“Maki Roll, it’s me.”

My entry for Day 1 (Trust/Betrayal) of Momoharu Week 2023.

[alexsays-no]

Happy trans visibility week to all my fellas 💕 (everyone that falls into this umbrella).

Remember you’re loved, you are worthy, you’re valuable and so fucking cool. We’re all self improved people how fcking cool is that. I know this are scary times, but what’s important is to stay close to one another, show support and help, to be a community 💕 be kind but also don’t let them take your shine away 💕 doesn’t matter if you’re out or not. Your are as important no matter what 💕

[yanderedrabbles]

Two Faced -Yandere Stalker/Cop

Yandere! Cop who pulls you over for a DUI. You're barely under the legal limit and it's clear you can't hold your liquor in the slightest.

Yandere! Cop who feels his cock twitch when you blow into the breathalyser, your eyes flickering up at him all half lidded like he's just fucked you raw, teasing him that most fellas don't say please as nice as you do officer.

Yandere! Cop who says he'll follow you home, just to make sure you're safe. You don't see anything strange about it, he's a cop after all. But now he knows where you live, he knows what car you drive, he knows that your roommates always leave for school at the same time you do.

Yandere! Cop who looks so damn good in his uniform, who has the muscles to fill it out just right.

Yandere! Cop figures out early on that you're a hard-core party girl. Different guys coming home with you every weekend. He doesn't like it, but he understands. You're probably just lonely - filling your bed with strangers to chase away the cold.

Yandere! Cop aims to fix that.

Yandere! Cop who makes sure he gets the weekend off and who makes sure to run into you at the club. You're totally wasted this time, hanging onto his arm and running your fingers up his biceps, giggling about what big muscles you have officer.

Yandere! Cop who takes you home and just let's you sleep it off in his bed. His cock is raging and he wants to fuck you more than anything, but he's a gentleman and you're hammered.

Yandere! Cop who makes you breakfast and a good ol' fashioned hangover cure all the cops swear by. He drives you home and tilts your chin up to kiss you. "How about a proper date, babydoll?"

You giggle and blush and slip away before he can get an answer.

Yandere! Cop who can never get with you in the daylight. You'll kiss him and grind up against him on the dance floor and warm his bed later that night, but you're almost always gone by morning.

Yandere! Cop who doesn't want you as just a fuck buddy. He wants you as his girlfriend, maybe his wife someday.

Yandere! Cop who'll take what you give him. He'll fuck you screaming and when you leave the next morning, he'll bury his head in your pillow and try to catch the remnants of your scent.

It goes on for months. He's becoming a neglected dog, fed on the scraps of attention you give him. He's starving, he's ravenous, he's slowly going rabbid.

Yandere! Cop who does something he didn't think himself capable of - he starts following you. Just a little at first, just so he can learn more about you. He's curious and you don't talk about yourself so it makes perfect sense, right? It's harmless.

Yandere! Cop who breaks into your apartment when you're in class. Just to make sure everything is safe. And if he jacks off into your used panties, it's just a kind of payment. He's going above and beyond for you, doesn't he deserve a little reward?

Yandere! Cop who sees you kissing another man on the walk back from school. You've got your hands on his chest and you're standing on your tip toes under the magnolia trees, like the poster of a sappy fucking romcom.

Yandere! Cop who's never been more angry in his life. And so he sends you a bloody bullet in the mail, your name carved into the steel.

And it works. You call him, terrified that you pissed off the wrong person somehow.

Yandere! Cop who loves being there to comfort you, who feels so masculine and strong when you cling onto his arm and sob about your big, scary stalker.

Yandere! Cop who takes endless pictures of you going about your day and leaves them on your doorstep.

Yandere! Cop who slowly becomes your boyfriend. Who's there the second your stalker gets too close or frightens you too badly. Who makes you feel so safe in his arms.

Yandere! Cop who carefully suggests you move in with him. He's a cop afterall, and no one would be stupid enough to break into his apartment.

Yandere! Cop who'll do something vicious everytime he feels you straying away from him.

Yandere! Stalker who leaves your pet's head in a box on your porch when you refuse to cut off your male friends.

Yandere! Cop who coos over you when you sob, as though he isn't the one scaring you.

Yandere! Cop who is extra careful with everything he does, so that you never suspect that he and your stalker are one and the same.

He's a cop afterall, and he's just keeping you safe. Even if you don't always see it that way.

[moralesispunk]

I think you're either team ghost x civilian wife! reader where the rest of the 141 have no idea you exist or team they know and it's a very familial like and I'm the first one

simon who does everything he can to keep you his secret, even more so when your family starts to grow. when he's finished with a mission he will spend the next 48hrs barely sleeping, moving around to make sure no one is on his tail before making it home into your arms.

it's not that he doesn't trust the 141, but you and your family are far too precious to trust anyone with. you've heard the stories of all of the other men, are sure you would need only one look at them to be able to guess which man belongs to the many names he's told you over the years, but you're aware they don't know that you exist.

that on the rare nights simon ventures out to meet them for a sole pint between missions they think he's holed up in some bachelor flat back in manchester, perhaps with a string of women that come and go, but they couldn't be more wrong with his wedding band hidden under his gloves when he's home like now or safely in his drawer at home when he's on missions.

and it's not that he doesn't wish he could shout about you from the rooftops. everyone in your town knows that the big scary man whose face is always conveniently hidden in the shadows has a missus at home who brings your chubby babies to the toddlers and drops your kids off at school.

but the 141 don't know about you, not until enough time has passed since simon retired to consider it safe enough. simon with his aching joints and trembling hands, the ringing in his right ear and back pain that requires at least two, hour long soaks in the bath a week. simon the husband and dad who has butterfly clips in his hair and at least one nail painted from the game of hairdressers his oldest likes to play, a bright pink plaster on his knee to match the youngest, and one hand on your belly at all times with the third (and final in your opinion but simon is working on that) of your brood.

simon who is out for drinks with the 141 three years after retirement and slips and says something about moving house and the hassle, the rest of the men deciding they will help and so simon decides it's finally time. but he doesn't forewarn them about his family before the day, standing in the garden of your packed up house that your family has outgrown while the men stumble out of the van they hired only to stop dead in their tracks when they see you.

you who is waving in the doorway, a toddler on your hip and looking like you're about to pop while another child - maybe six or seven by their guesses - swings from simon's arm, with a dog jumping up paws on his chest. and like the man he is he doesn't explain, just jerks his chin towards the piles of boxes and empty moving van he's started to pack.

"think you can start making a move on that?"

a few hours later and still no explanation from simon, he's in the first van packed with all the furniture and bigger boxes with you and the kids and the guys follow behind, slack jawed and still confused as they stay speechless until they pull up at the new house.

they're still staring at you as you pile out of the first van and you're shaking your head, elbowing simon in the ribs and muttering a "put them out their misery, Si" and they swear they almost drop dead when they see how gently he handles you, an arm around your waist and a kiss to your temple as he guides you and the two gremlins towards the guys while the dog starts sniffing around its new home.

"fellas, this is the missus and kids," he says and you roll your eyes, holding out your hand towards them and introducing yourself by name, adding on the kids who beam up shyly at these strangers.

that seems to shake them out of it. john takes your hand first, shaking and turning to simon with a "you hide her away in case we try to steal her from you?" he winks and you and only grins wider when simon's hand on your hip seems to squeeze tighter. gaz and soap are bending down and coaxing your two girls out of their shyness, complimenting their light up trainers and asking if it makes them run faster before cheering them on as they run to the front door and back.

they set you up on a fold out chair and do all the heavy lifting as you point them and the boxes in their arms to their correct rooms. later, Simon treats them to dinner (a takeaway) and has you sitting on his knee with the girls in bed and for the first time he spends a night with the guys telling you stories of Simon "Ghost" Riley.

"they're lyin' love," he'll mumble in your ear at every story, "don't believe them do ya?" his hand strokes up your back, squeezing your neck.

"yeah, babe, believe you," you say while smiling at the men around your new dining room table, men who have saved your husbands life more times than he can count, and you find yourself curling closer to simon because of that

[sanguineterrain]

professor pretty | charles xavier

Summary: You duck into a pub to escape a creep. Just when you've lost hope that you'll get to go home at all, a pretty-faced professor comes to your rescue.

Pairing: young!Charles Xavier x gn!reader 

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings/tags: creepy guy intimidating reader, charles to the rescue, flirting, drinking, professor!reader, i tried to make it accurate to an english university and make him English but if there's any mistakes feel free to lmk.

this is a modern au in that movie canon is the same but they have cellphones here bc it's easier lol

the divider

There’s a man at the back of the pub, in a scary leather jacket and combat boots, and he won’t stop staring at you. 

Instinct tells you that he’s not going to let you leave either. 

You noticed him after you left the school. That’s what first pushed you into this pub across from the university. Now you’re parked on a stool. You really want to go home, but instead you’re sticking close to the frazzled barman who’s managing about thirty first years who are just jazzed about the new school year. 

You’ve ordered a pint, even though you’re not really a beer drinker, but when in Rome and all that. You’ve had about two sips. 

You sneak a look over your shoulder. The man is still there. Fuck.

“Could I have another pint, please? Cheers.” A man leans against the bar top, hand running through his light brown hair as if on instinct. You’ve seen him once this week, at the university, when you were trying to get your own classroom set up for the term. 

You don’t know his name or what he teaches, but you do know that he likes the poofy-haired, off-duty secretary in the red dress that came in about an hour earlier. And she seemed to like him back. You’re surprised he’s still here.

You rest your chin in your hand, watching detachedly as he orders. He’s got a nice smile and even nicer manners. Posh. Probably a jerk. 

“Hello.”

You look up. Professor Pretty Boy is standing closer to you, blue eyes warm. His smile fades as you look at him.

“Is everything alright?” he asks, brows knitting in concern.

You sigh. “Yeah, great.”

The last thing you need is another guy screwing up your night. Even if this one is considerably better looking.

He rests his elbow against the bar top and pushes his finger against his temple. 

“Is someone bothering you?” he asks after a moment.

Your eyes widen. “How did you–?”

“I recognize the look. Fella in the corner, yeah?”

His words make you tense. You sneak a look back. The man is still there, though he’s now on the phone. 

“I think he’s going to follow me home if I try to leave,” you whisper. 

His eyes soften in concern. You watch him watch you. Then he seems to make a decision.

“I’ll be right back. Stay here, alright?”

He heads straight for the creep. You watch, slack-jawed, as your unsuspecting knight in a crisp, white button-up says a couple words to the man. Then they go outside. 

You turn around, guilt washing over you. What if he gets hurt?

Well, so what, says another part of you, it’s not like you told him to confront the guy.

But your knight returns in thirty seconds, every hair in place. He gracefully slides onto the stool next to you and takes a gulp of beer. Foam gathers on his upper lip. You can’t help your disbelieving smile.

“You’ve got…” You gesture to your mouth.

“Ah.” He takes a napkin and wipes his mouth, avoiding your gaze. Is he flustered? 

“There’s just no dignified way to drink a pint, I’ve learned,” he says, clearing his throat. He smiles at you, less rakish and more bashful. 

“How did you do that?” you ask. “He must’ve been there for half an hour.”

“Hm? Ah, well, I politely explained that that sort of behavior isn’t tolerated here, and that I was very happy to call the police.”

Your brows rise. “Wow. He seemed determined to stay.”

“I can be very persuasive, I’ve been told. Oh! How rude of me.” He sticks out his hand. “My name is Charles. Charles Xavier.”

You shake his hand. It’s cool and soft. You tell him your name. He repeats it softly.

“It’s very nice to meet you, though I wish we’d met through better circumstances,” Charles says.

You nod. “Me too. But thank you, seriously.”

“No thanks necessary. Men should let others live in peace.”

“Words of the century,” you say, raising your glass.

“Cheers,” Charles says, clinking your glasses together. 

You both take a drink. You’re considerably more relaxed. And no, you’re not really Professor Xavier’s type, but you like the company. At least for tonight. 

“So, are you visiting?” he asks. “Pardon my saying, but you don’t sound…”

“Like you?” You playfully raise an eyebrow.

His eyes widen. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ve only been here a week, actually. I took a teaching position at the university.”

“You don’t say! I teach here too. What are you teaching? Wait, no, let me guess…”

Charles squints in concentration, putting his hand to his forehead. “Hmm… ah! Women’s literature?”

You shake your head. “You’re on a roll, seriously. I’m in awe.”

Charles waves you off. “You’re too kind. I’m just perceptive.”

And there’s a pinch of something in your gut, something that tells you that it’s more than good perception. But you don’t detect any malice in Charles. In fact, you feel nothing but kindness and genuine interest emanating from his gaze. 

“Well, let’s see if you’ll go two for two. What author am I teaching first?”

Charles smiles at you knowingly, and you’re sure he’s about to say it.

“Oh, I haven’t a clue. Hmm… Ms. Austen?”

You laugh. “No, I’m very sure that the students at Pembroke have gotten their fill of Austen in their A-levels. Do you give up?”

He grins. “Yes, I do. Tell me all about it, please.”

“I didn’t peg you for a quitter, Charles.”

“I know when I’m beat,” he says softly, and the tips of his fingers touch yours. 

To your surprise, you don’t pull away, even though getting involved with a professor your first week would be bad.

But there’s something magnetic about him.

“I was thinking I’d teach The Haunting of Hill House.”

Charles raises his brows. “Horror? My, my. Quite a first impression. I like it.”

“Got to make it memorable, don’t I?”

“I don’t think you’ll have trouble with that,” he says. Your face warms under his incessant charm. “You’ll get on fine here. I’ve been teaching for a few years. My sister keeps pushing me to find a place in America, but I have a hard time letting go of the familiar.”

“I bet you’re popular here,” you say, and Charles immediately catches onto your meaning.

“Heh, well…” Charles purses his lips mischievously. “Ahem. I try to make the course engaging, especially since I teach graduate courses. But I’m a homebody, truly. It’s my sister who pulls me out here, and one thing leads to another, and I get to meet lovely new lecturers with impeccable literary taste.”

You turn and focus on your all but abandoned beer, tracing shapes into the condensation and hoping you’ll get some reserve back.

“Does this charming routine work on everyone?” 

Charles laughs. “Actually, my routine is something like, um…” 

He leans in, half-lidded. “I have all the time in the world for a darling with the TCHH gene. You would call it curly hair, I call it a mutation. A most alluring mutation, mind you—you see, mutations are what took us from single-celled organisms to the dominant form of reproductive life on the planet. And being that it’s my field of study, and I take my studies very seriously, I would love to explore what other genetic wonders you’ve been gifted with.”

It’s quiet for several moments. Then you begin to giggle. Charles schools his expression, feigning indignance. 

“And what’s so funny?”

“You’re not serious,” you say. “Does that really work?”

“I don’t know why you’re laughing—it has a nine out of ten success rate,” Charles says, sticking his nose up. “People like genetic facts.”

“I think they like your pretty face more than the facts, Professor.”

You wince as you realize what you’ve said. Charles pounces immediately.

“Apologies, I can’t hear you very well in this loud pub… did you say my face is pretty?”

“Oh, put a sock in it,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Like you don’t know.”

That draws a full laugh from him, face scrunching in delight. You smile back, shaking your head.

You check your phone out of habit, feeling like it’s been a long time and… holy hell! 11:46. You curse, scraping your stool back.

“Dammit, dammit. I’ve got a lecture tomorrow morning! I’m so sorry, Charles, I have to go.”

You hadn’t meant to stay so long, but the stranger had frightened you, and then you’d met Charles, and…

But you stop short upon seeing the door because of the terrifying thought of the stranger waiting outside for you.

Charles must sense your hesitance. “I can drive you home.”

“Oh, it’s fine. I’m only a ten minute walk away,” you say, but it’s weak.

He puts a hand on your back. The touch is fleeting, but he’s warm through your shirt. 

“Then I’ll walk with you. I love walking. And the rain will come soon—got to take advantage of clear nights.”

You look at him. He already has his coat. You suddenly remember the woman he’d followed to the back table. 

“Are you sure? Didn’t you have a…”

“She wasn’t interested,” Charles says, back to his perceptive ways. His gaze is fond. “I’d rather walk with you, anyway.”

“You’ve already charmed me, Charles,” you say as he walks you out of the pub.

“No charm,” he says simply, holding the door for you. “Just being honest, darling.”

You feel infinitely better on the way home. Charles keeps your spirits high, providing you with endless advice and assurances for your new job. 

You go up the steps, taking out your key to the flat. 

“Look, um…” 

You stop and turn. Charles follows you up. He starts to touch your arm, then stops. He straightens his tie instead.

“If you see that man again, or someone like him. Someone who doesn’t look right. Promise you’ll tell me, alright? You can reach me on my mobile any time.”

He hands you a card. Charles Xavier, Mutant Expert. Huh.

You look at him, fear returning. “Do you think he’ll come back?”

Charles shakes his head. “No, he won’t bother you. But if… I don’t know. Never mind. No, I’m worrying you. I’m just making you paranoid. Forget that.”

You shrug. “You’re keeping me safe. I like that.”

Charles chews the inside of his lip for a second. Then he leans in and kisses your cheek. You inhale sharply. 

His thumb lingers on your jaw before he pulls away completely.

“Good night,” he says, pupils dilated in the dim light. 

“Good night, Charles. Thank you.”

“Any time. And if you just want to go for a pint, that number isn’t just for emergencies.” 

“Are you that sure of yourself?” you ask, hand on your hip.

“No.” He smirks. “I just happen to be very perceptive.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

may 2024 twst manga updates~

***This includes spoilers for the Episode of Savanaclaw, Episode of Octavinelle, and the 4koma!***

AAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH LILIA SILVER AND SEBEK LOOK SO GOOD HERE 🤡 I love how Silver and Sebek are constantly shown flanking Lilia, it really enhances the bodyguard/knight vibes! Every time Lilia appears, he always looks like he's having so much fun. Lil' guy is living it up in every panel! Especially when he appears upside down to spook Ruggie.

efbiuSIUBDBYypvfW9wpWD THIS SHOT IS SO GOOD??????? ?I'M LIVING FOR CATER MAKING SILVER AND SEBEK LOOK LIGHTLY UNCOMFORTABLE AS HE HANGS ON THEM.............. .... . . . . ....... .. .... .. . . . . .. ..

Ruggie's despair is delicious 🤤 He's thinking about all the events that led up to this point and about how that will now all go to waste. Now that I think about it and I have the visual right in front of me... That's the same thing Leona felt every time he got knocked down for his efforts. The parallels, man...

Well, fellas... Looks like it's probably Overblot Leona time next chapter. A detail I love here is that, from Leona's perspective, all the faces of his dorm members are sorta blotted out... which is interesting seeing as how it was stated that Mrs. Rosehearts' face was intentionally blotted since she is considered the source of Riddle's trauma + the light novel tells us that Leona fears seeing hope and desperation for a better future in others because it might motivate him to try again, thus prompting another failure or rejection... 😭

Palace servants: Young master Leona's magical power is so strong, it's scary!! Leona: Damn, they don't understand me! They judge me before they even get to know me. If I were the older brother, they wouldn't be saying this stuff. Also Leona: [see image above]

MALEWIFE MODE RUGGIE????? 😭 What a contrast to the Ruggie in the Episode of Savanaclaw who is really going through it…

Love the detail of Yuuta and Grim helping out with chores in the background! It shows that they’re trying to pull their weight while they stay over.

Babe, wake up... New Yuuta and Leona reaction images just dropped from the Episode of Octainvelle... (I am Yuuta whenever new TWST content drops and my non-Twstie friends are Leona whenever they're listening to me blab nonstop about the updates--)

Yuuta once again proves to be my favorite of the current Yuu iterations 🫶 He’s just so sweet and hopeful!

We actually get to see the class photo!! Although the resolution here is very grainy. I'm really hoping that we get to see a close-up after Azul's OB!! I'm dying to see what he looked like as a kid!

fbhlavfuoeqy8vevif;fa fai THIS CHAPTER REALLY MADE ME LIKE ACE?????? ??? ? ?? ? It's probably because he gives the same flawless liar (even though the acting is sooo overexaggerated) energy as Jade in book 4. There's a really fun scene where he's distracting the Atlantica Museum guards and really hamming it up. He looks so cute while he's being (fake) upset yet so enthusiastic!!

This was my favorite part!! Ace excitedly talks about how he's always been interested in merfolk since he was little (lie) and how he saved up all his money to come to this museum (also a lie)... THEN BRO HAS THE AUDACITY TO POSE LIKE THIS AND TALK ABOUT WANTING TO BE A PART OF THAT WORLD????? ?? ???? ? ?? ? ?? ARIEL WHO>?????? ?? ??? ?? ? ?I o NLY KNOW TRAPPOLA NOW

One of the 4koma this month is about Octavinelle going on a camping trip! Azul wants to study the stars for money-making ideas/inspiration.

When talking about auroras, they're reminded of the Diasomnia students and think about making an aurora-colored drink to sell to them. The Octatrio also star-gaze and talk about aliens + selling octopus to them. They discuss the idea of filling a space suit with water and fish to they can walk in space too.

The other 4koma is about Trey brushing the mouths of his mandrake (as they have no teeth but dirt). He insists that everyone should have a clean oral cavity.

You can even tell which mandrake is Trey’s because it has a bunch of toothbrushes stuck in its pot 🪥

Jamil was planning on using his own mandrake to make an ancient remedy for relieving toothache. Trey is uh… interested… and attempts to test out the healing toothpaste for himself (Jamil of course stops him).

Trey… you’re the most NORMAL one, why are you like this OTL

[love-marimo]

Scary Dog Privilege (Zoro x Fem!Reader)

ー just a self-indulgent hcs where a protective zoro would absolutely do anything for u, even if it includes beating shitty men who would dare to even lay their hands on u.

also hi!!! it's been a while since i last wrote something. my asks are open if u want to chat or request something. ♡

cw: swearing, violence, attempts of harassment

one thing that zoro loves are duels. whether it's a friendly spar or a full on fight with an enemy ー he always gives it his all with no mercy. he is competitive to a T. after all, he is the pirate hunter. his bounty speaks volumes, and he made a pledge to be undefeated in his journey to become a master swordsman.

there is one thing he despises the most though.

it's when these fights involve you.

he trusts that you can protect yourself, and that you can turn down advances from men.

you told him countless times that they don't interest you. and that it's best to just ignore those flirtatious remarks you get whenever it happens.

but it shouldn't happen when he's around.

because oh boy, would it cause a scene.

like when you're walking together around town on an island your crew docked into, and there's a festival going on.

you decide to wear a tight shirt and shorts. it hugged your body well, and it was comfortable enough to wear on a humid night.

he doesn't mind you wearing revealing clothing. hell, you can wear a bikini bra and jeans like nami does and he wouldn't care, unlike a certain love cook who would go crazy.

anyway, you would get passersby to look over your way.

then you'd hear men whistling at you.

then it escalates to drunk men approaching you and ogling at you.

except it was a futile attempt because zoro's already in front of you clutching one of his swords, glaring and ready to attack anytime.

"go ahead. shoot your shot."

"what the fuck do you want from her?"

"need something?"

"what the hell did you say?"

yeah. they're not walking home unscathed tonight.

in some instances, there would be pirates who would take interest on you, and they're willing to fight your boyfriend on the spot.

"oh? someone's offended here. fellas, should we beat him up?" one would say.

"go for it boss! take the girl as a prize too!" one of their crew agrees.

zoro doesn't waste time so that they won't utter another word again.

he doesn't even need to use haki to take them down. only one sword would do the job.

and while you appreciate him being protective over you, you assure him that you can defend yourself just fine.

you would definitely get into a small argument about it.

"zoro, i'm not weak you know. i can defend myself just fine." you say while cleaning a small cut he got from fighting a random creep attempting (poorly and miserably) to make a move on you.

"it's not that you're weak. just let me do my job as your partner."

"i know that but still-"

"if you want to keep entertaining them, just tell me and i'll stop."

"are you serious right now? i'm just telling you that i'm strong on my own too!"

"exactly. that's why i'm asking you that."

you both went back and forth for a while until someone from the crew breaks it up (probably nami or usopp).

at the end of the day, you'll end up in each other's arms and you'll be thanking him for being your loyal scary dog. ღ'ᴗ'ღ

"i thought you didn't like me fighting for you."

"never said that. shut up" you laugh, kissing him on his cheek and feeling him smiling at that.

ー Lolita

[steddielations]

“Evening, sir.”

It’s the Harrington boy. Again.

“I told you, son, it’s Wayne,” he manages a smile, harder to do these days, like chipping it out of cement and dusting it off. But he gets it done.

Steve doesn’t have the Henderson boy with him today, that’s a first.

“Where’s the curly one?” He steps aside, letting Steve into the trailer door, more rickety than before. No money left to fix it after repairing the bulk of the earthquake damage.

“Dustin? He doesn’t wanna watch the game, and trust me, you don’t wanna listen to that kid complaining the whole time,” Steve walks by, sorta chuckling to himself, “I always miss the replay ‘cause he makes me change the channel to those D&D cartoons during the commercials, just like—”

He stops in front of the couch, looking over his shoulder at Wayne like he’s afraid he messed up somehow. Wayne noticed that look often from him, less and less, but still often. All that confidence he carries can drop on a dime, sorta reminded him of—

“Like Ed?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“S’alright. I don’t mind talking about him if you want,” Wayne manages another concrete smile, but he means it. Steve always waits for him to bring up Eddie first, like he doesn’t want to remind him if it ain’t on his mind, but Wayne likes to be reminded. It’s nice to feel like he’s not the only one missing him. “But the game was yesterday and y’know the cable’s out.”

“Yep, got it covered. I uh, I taped it,” Steve fishes a VHS tape from his back pocket. Fancy. Wayne would worry about him using that for his sake, but he has a feeling Steve’s folks aren’t around enough to notice.

“The Colts win?”

Steve flips the tape around, “Haven’t watched it, so we can bet on it if you’re feeling lucky.”

It doesn’t feel so dry and heavy when Wayne laughs a bit then, waving Steve to go ahead and start up the TV. He already caught the game on the radio, but he bets on the Colts anyway. Loser’s supposed to do the dishes after they scrounge together some soup, but Steve does them anyway.

Wayne would make a stink about it but he can tell Steve just wants to help, to feel like he’s helping. Same thing when the Henderson boy comes around to see him, wanting to hear all the stories, even the scary ones. So Wayne doesn’t mind letting Eddie’s friends feel like they’re helping him.

His nephew didn’t have many friends. Real, cover-your-six kinda friends. The boys he played his music with, they’ve come by a couple times, Wayne always liked Jeff despite the racket. That older fella that’s doing time now, Wayne wasn’t too fond of. And some of Eddie’s dungeon buddies he talked about were the only few.

Now, casual acquaintances? Anybody who didn’t have anywhere else to sit when he had an empty spot at his table? Sure, Eddie had those in spades.

His boy was good at that, putting on a good old show for his crowd, on a stage to keep his distance. That damn Al did him in good, never could trust easily, having his old man pop up and drag him into his mess before he took off again. And Eddie’s poor momma would’ve done right by him, if she hadn’t gotten sick so young.

Took Wayne a long time to get Eddie to depend on him, to trust this was his place to stay and he didn’t have to earn it, Wayne wasn’t just filling his head to scheme something out of him.

Love ain’t a transaction that way. He wasn’t ever any good at saying it, but he tried to show Eddie the best he could.

His boy though, always carried a debt with him. Like he owed Wayne something for taking him in, had to graduate quick and make it outta here, do something with the better life he gave him. Al dug him in so deep, Eddie stayed roped into whatever his latest scheme was (the cars, the dealing, the gambling, thank God Eddie wasn’t there when the goddamn robbery went wrong, 25 to life) like maybe it’d be enough to keep him from running off again.

The odds have never been in favor of people like them, poor folk in a town that’s stuck in its ways, where everybody’s just like their old man, but Al made his choices and Wayne made his. Rest their mother’s soul, she did her best. Part of Wayne was relieved when Al got locked up, at least Wayne had a better chance of keeping Eddie from going down the same path, try to raise him right.

Being a Munson wasn’t a crime. He didn’t owe a darn thing to anybody. Eddie could graduate at his own pace, play whatever games and music he wanted, dress however, that didn’t mean he was up to no good. And a lot of boys get into dealing for a little easy extra money around here, he was gonna grow out of that just like Wayne did.

It worked until all this mess.

That’s why Eddie ran off after what happened to the poor Cunningham girl. He gets spooked when something goes wrong, like it’ll be the last straw he can’t make up for so he runs off. Like the first time he didn’t make senior year, went and hid out with that Rick fella that Wayne never did like, got Eddie deep into that business he tried to keep a secret.

‘Course Wayne knew. He knows exactly what and where his boy hides. If those damn cops weren’t tailing him, he would’ve gone straight to get him.

That was before he knew it would turn into all of this. Now he wishes he would’ve done it anyway. Gone right to Eddie, told him it wasn’t his fault that everything got all turned upside down. Told him he knew he was innocent right from the get-go, and got him away from this rotten old town.

But he didn’t.

He didn’t go get his boy.

So now he’s just trying to be there for Eddie’s boys, since he can’t.

“You have a night shift tonight right? Gonna put on a pot of coffee,” Steve says once he’s finished up the dishes.

Wayne hums. There’s usually more noise going on during these visits. Steve’s still alright at carrying on, even without the Henderson boy’s chatter to fill any gaps.

It was strange, the first time the two of them showed up. Wayne knew Eddie was close with Dustin, but he didn’t have a clue that he was chumming it up with the Harrington boy. Just don’t seem like the same type of company. He might not believe it if it weren’t so obvious that Steve cared about his boy. He suspected before, but now with Steve showing up here alone, he knows.

Steve misses Eddie in a different sorta way than Dustin.

“No cream or sugar, right?” Steve looks humored by that as he passes the mug of black coffee to him, “How are you related to Eddie again?”

Wayne’s mouth turns upward, remembering his nephew’s god awful sweet tooth. He picked up a box of Honeycombs the other day in the store out of habit. “Just happened to be standin’ there when they beamed him down.”

That gets a good chuckle out of Steve. Nothing wistful weighing it down and Wayne’s glad, watching Steve pour himself a cup of coffee too.

Then bitter-sweetness swirls in his chest, seeing the mug that Steve chose for himself. Must’ve dug it out from one of the boxes Wayne hadn’t hung back on the walls yet. The earthquake did a number on his collection. That Garfield one was the only one he’d gotten around to gluing back together.

“What is it?” Steve asks, cup paused at his mouth.

“Ah nothin’ just,” Wayne waves it off, “That’s the mug Ed always used.”

“Oh, I can use a diff—”

“Nah, nah go ‘head. It’s fine.”

Unconvinced, Steve takes a wary sip.

Mostly these days, Wayne just feels like a watch without a ticker, a chest with nothing beating inside it. He can’t name the feeling he has at seeing Eddie’s old mug being used by someone else, but at least it’s something.

“Y’know, he used to put everything in that sucker. Soda pop, soup, cereal, you name it,” Wayne shakes his head, mouth twitching into a smile, “I’d have to wrestle it away from him just to give it a good washing. It’s well loved, alright. Leaks now.”

As if on cue, Steve has to grab a napkin to sit underneath it.

Wayne lets out an amused hum, “He uh— Didn’t have much stability ‘fore he came to live with me, so he’d get real attached to things like that.”

Carried around a stuffed dragon they picked up at a garage sale ‘til Wayne couldn’t sew the wings back on anymore. Never wanted to throw anything away. Got real anxious about Wayne going to work sometimes, even when he was too old for a sitter. Held onto him saying “Stay home just today, Dad, please.” Which, he didn’t mind Eddie calling him that. It always softened him up, made him give in. Wishes now that he’d told Eddie upfront. Maybe he never would’ve stopped.

“Thought for sure he’d marry that damn guitar one day.”

Steve nearly sputters his coffee, laughing at that, “Yeah, those two are made for each other.”

It’s nice, seeing the way that story lit Steve up. Sorta like his boy can still make someone happy. Hurts like hell that he ain’t here to do it himself, but Wayne was always good at telling stories. That’s where Eddie learned it from.

“I’m uh,” Steve deflates after a minute, looking down at the mug, “God, I’m just really sorry, Wayne.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry too, Steve,” he says, because, well.

Wayne gets the feeling that his boy was Steve’s boy too.

Read the rest on Ao3

[personwhowrites]

Diner Adventures

Task Force 141 x gn!reader. (Platonic or romantic?)

Having to work at a small diner basically in the middle of nowhere wasn’t easy. It wasn’t even worth the pay, nor the customers. It was always some sort of ghost diner, cars passed it thinking it’s abandoned. You did tell the manager to fix the sign so maybe more people would come in.

Since, you being the only waitress, you never stressed out. Restocking was barely a thing needed, most of the time you spent it talking to a cook or down on your phone. Hoping that maybe one or two customers would come in into the diner.

Finally, one night looking down at your phone you hear it.

*ding*

Four men walk in, looking around before finally spotting you. You froze, it wasn’t just any average customers you would get late a night.

“Miss?” A Scottish accent spoke up breaking you out of your trance. “You open?”

You blinked a couple times before opening your mouth to speak. “Uh.. yes, sorry uh.. how many..?” You uttered out knowing it was just four of them. “Oh.. uh you guys want the bar or booth?”

“Booth.” A stronger voice spoke up and pointed to a booth. “That one will do for us.”

You grabbed the menus and walked over to the booth. You couldn’t help but side glance at them multiple times. They were freaking you out, it was obvious to them as well.

One of them placed a pistol on the table. The other two set their gear down on their laps, rolling their shoulders back before picking up the menu. The last one, that seemed to be the leader of the group took his hat off, ruffling his own hair as he stare at the window.

“Smoking allowed here?” He asked glancing at you now. “Don’t worry, they aren’t loaded.” He gestured to the guns. “I believe.”

“I..uh yeah smoke zone of the diner is the one you’re sitting at..” you spoke out, your eyes glued down to your notepad now. “What can I get you all to drink?”

“Coffee for me” the same man speaks up. “For those two muppets some sugary drink.”

You glanced up to see him pointing to a mohawk man, and another male wearing a baseball cap with the UK flag. Nodding you wrote down their drinks, then turned to the scary skull mask looking your way.

“Tea.” The masked man utter out. “Three sugar, packets on the side.”

You awkwardly nodded and backed away quickly as they turned their attention to the menus.

“Talk about freaks..” The cook said as you grabbed the drinks. “Who comes into a diner dressed like that.”

“Watch the tone.. At least we finally have someone in this dump.” You reply and look at the cook. “You can finally prove that you can cook.”

The cook rolled his eyes before glancing at the four men sitting in the booth.

“They don’t look American to me..” The cook points out. “That one guy with that cap, had a uk flag on it didn’t it?”

“They did sound… off, but who are we to judge?” You reply with a small smile. “I mean we are just three, counting the manager in the back working at some rundown diner.”

“Point taken, that Mohawk dude is looking over at you.” The cook says turning to the mild hot stove. “Think he’s into you?”

“Or probably trying to get my attention to order.” You say grabbing the tea. “Toss me some sugar packets.”

The cook shrugs and throws you some sugar packets. You mostly catch some of them, the cook chuckles as your clumsy hands. Setting the hot coffee on a tray with the two other sugary drinks felt odd. Something was odd about those four men. Their accents, their.. clothing style, I mean it wasn’t often you seen men like these in the diner.

Picking up the the tray that held the drinks you walked over. Setting it down in a booth behind them, you grabbed the drinks handing them each to them. You took out your notepad and smile, a fake smile they saw right through.

“So you fellas ready to order?” you asked holding the pen. “Or do we need more time.”

“We never been to a place like this before.” One perks up looking at you. “So, what would you rec—-“

“Ky—Gaz.” Another spoke putting his hand on the table. “What did we say in the car?”

“Sorry, Price.” Gaz says looks up from the menu. “Just, what.. on earth is a Nashville chicken on a waffle?”

“Oh, uh.. it’s some chicken tenders covered in a spicy tangy sauce.” You say before pressing your lips into a thin line. “..on.. top of a waffle..”

“You Americans eat that shit?” The mowhak man says before being elbow by his masked friend. “What! I mean it sounds disgusting.”

“Johnny.” The man spoke side eyeing him.

“It’s true aint it! Look at the photo doesn’t even look appealing!” The guy blurted out again. “Also Johnny? What happened to soap huh? Has our lieutenant Ghost finally losen up?”

Lieutenant? Wait.. are these men in the army? Your mind rushed to thoughts finally connecting the dots. That explains the gear, and possibly loaded guns on their laps and table.

“Ignore them..” Price says grabbing your attention again. “I’ll take some normal pancakes.”

“..normal how?” You say looking at him. “Like.. you want plain butter milk pancakes or uh.. something on them? Like berries or some kind of sweet?”

“What pancakes do you have?” Price breath out while looking at the menu. “..Christ..you have a lot.. uh..” he paused for a moment and pointed to some fruity strawberry pancakes. “Just bring me these.”

“Okay..” you mumbled out writing down strawberry pancakes. “For the rest?”

“You sell burgers?” Soap hummed while skimming through the menu. “Like ones that aren’t pure American grease?”

“Mactavish.” Ghost warns looking at soap.

“What, listen I’m on a diet.” Soap says looking at Ghost. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Or you’re just some picky eater.” Gaz charms in and looks at you. “I’ll the blueberry pancakes.”

“I’m not picky! Just.. look at all of this… on the menu..” Soap says and sighs looking at you. “Do you even know how much calories this all is?”

“On the bottom of the dish it lists the calories and what’s on the dish.” You reply now annoyed by soap. “I can just get you some salad.”

“Offend.” Soap scoffs and stares down at the menu. “Just get me something that doesn’t have a lot of calories.”

“So a salad.” You noted and looked at him.

“No something with just low calories.” Soap replies and slid the menu down.

“..a salad is the lowest calories we have.” You hiss now irritated by his actions.

“Or maybe a burger.” Soap grin noticing your irritation.

“Which one?” You asked in the most fake voice. “Because we have several.”

“One with the lowest calories.” Soap says and looks at his friend Price. “..actually just some pancakes…”

“..just get him a the highest calorie shit on the menu.” Price spoke out glaring down at soap. “Add everything on that burger.”

“I’ll take some pancakes too.” Ghost mumbles out to you. “Just plain ones.”

You nod, grabbing their menus and walking away. You can hear Price whisper yelling at soap. A small smile creeped on your face hearing at least he has friend or teammates that set him straight.

“What do they want to eat?” The cook asked as you approached him with the menus. “Well?”

“Pancakes and a burger with… everything..” you say and sit down in the high chair connected to the bar. “Well technically one stack of plain pancakes, a stack of strawberry pancakes and a blueberry stack pancakes.”

“Pancakes..” the cook mumbled out annoyed. “Did you even find out why they’re dressed like that?”

“From what I heard, something with the military.” You reply getting out the chair to help the cook set the batter of pancakes out onto the stove. “I know their names are Soap, Gaz, Price and Ghost.”

“What type of fucking names are that?” The cook uttered out before glancing at you. “You sure that’s their names?”

“Don’t know, but they call each other that.” You shrug and go to the nearby fridge. “Gaz let it slip that they aren’t from here tho.”

“Really? Where do you think they’re from?” The cook replies and presses down on the patty. “They look like those tea drinking Brit’s.”

“Now that you mention it..” you mumble looking at the four men who are all talking within themselves. “Their accents do sound British except for that soap guy.”

“Still can’t believe that’s their names.” The cook chuckles and looks at you. “What are you thinking?”

“..could be code names? You know like those cheesy movies?” You snickered with a grin. “Like I never thought that shit is real.”

The cook just shrugged and turned to focus on the food. Meanwhile, Gaz got up from the booth and wondered close to the open kitchen. Hearing you and the cook talk about them, their accents and names. His eyes narrowing as he heard you laugh about such an important thing to him.

“You think those guns are loaded?” The cook asked. “I mean, hey at least they would have the American sprit.”

“They are.” Gaz spoke up crossing his arms. “Where’s the bathroom?”

You immediately jumped and looked at Gaz before pointing to the bathroom. Gaz just walked away shaking his head, before you looked at the cook. He stare back at you before bursting out laughing with you.

When the food was finally done, the cook helped you take it to their table. They all gave you some glares, no words were exchanged in the process. You awkwardly took their drinks and refilled them, walking back you paused to hear them talking.

“Just drop it Gaz.” Price says shaking his head. “We just eat, pay and continue with our mission.”

“How can I? They’re speaking shit literally right in front of us.” Gaz hisses as Ghost rolled his eyes. “Is this how everyone is at America?“

“Hey at least we know that it’s not only graves.” Soap jokes and bites his burger. “On the other hand this burger is good.”

“Pancakes aren’t bad ether..” Ghost admitted while pouring more syrup on the pancakes. “Just enjoy the food.”

Price noticed you not far away and clear his throat. You walked over and set down the refilled tea, and two sugary drinks. Gaz just glared at you, before being kicked by soap under the table. Gaz glare now to Soap, as you stare at them.

“..listen, I didn’t mean to offend anyone here.” You mumble in an apologizing tone. “It’s just, we never seen folks like you four.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gaz snaps his head to you again. “Is it before we are different! Because we are ‘tea drinking Brit’s’?”

“Okay, maybe we did judge.. but we just neve—“ you try to speak but Gaz interrupts again.

“Save it, leave us to eat in peace.” Gaz hiss while grabbing his drink. “Go now.”

You stare at Gaz, before shaking your head. Turning away you hear them mumble something to Gaz.

A couple minutes pass and you hear them laugh. Or two or the four men laugh, the smell of cigarette being lit up caught your attention. The cook glanced up from his phone and stare over at the men, before looking at you.

“You need a break?” The cook says in a teasing tone. “Even though you always are on break.”

“Shut up..” you reply with a small smile. “How about you?”

“All good here.” The cook boomed as he looked down at his phone. “I looked up their bandages, I got a close eye to them when I helped you with the food.” He pauses for a moment and grins. “These four men are more important than we think.”

“Really?” You perk up leaning over to see his phone. “How so?”

“Saw a badge that said SAS.. and I googled it.” The cook said pulling up an article. “Special air forces, something from the British army.”

You stare down at the article, reading though it before glancing at the four men.

“..huh..” you mumble and sigh. “Well doesn’t matter now, they hate our guts..” you pause to get out of your seat. “I’ll just hand them the check so they can leave and we can all forget this ever happened.”

The cook just shrugs as you walk away to the front counter. Printing the ticket out, you glance at them as you make your way over.

“Here’s the check.. you guys can pay whenever you’re ready.” You mumble and place the check down. “Again I’m sorry if me and my friend offended the four of you.”

Gaz just scoffs and Price gives you a small apologetic smile himself. He takes out his card to pay, but Ghost beats him to it. Handing his card first and looking at Price with a small prideful stare.

“Don’t sweat it.” Price speaks up and looks at you. “Just.. watch what you say. The smallest things can bring you enemies love.”

You just nod and take Ghost card back to the front counter. You slide his card, paying for the food. You walk back with a copy of the receipt and a pen.

“Sign here, and uh.. you guys can leave at anytime.” You say and walk away quickly to the bathroom.

Ghost just nods and signs the receipt. Gaz takes the pen and starts writing in a napkin, soon soap takes the pen and does the same onto another napkin. When you returned back from the bathroom they were gone. The plates were stacked neatly and there were four napkins with handwriting from each of them. The cook walked over and glances at the napkins and then notice the tip on the receipt.

“Who the fuck just blows over a thousand on a damn diner.” The cook mumbles grabbing the receipt. “Are you seeing this?”

In fact you weren’t, you were too focused on the napkins. Their handwriting was so different from each other, their notes as well.

“Don’t judge too easy.. and tell that cook to mix the pancake batter better next time we come by.” -Gaz

“The food was great, sorry for annoying you. It was funny to see your nose scrunch up when I annoyed you. Hope you don’t mind that when we come back.” -Soap

“Saw you needed a cigarette, sorry I didn’t offer you one. Maybe next time I can.” -Price

“Try to catch the sugar packets better next time. I wanted three not two.” -Ghost

You smiled at the napkins and looked up to see them get in their car. They all glanced at you, before Price patted the car for the men to load up and get ready to leave. You turned your attention back to the napkins, before slowly noticing something in the edge of every napkin. Their numbers…

[in1-nutshell]

Sunstreakers Toddler Buddy being turned into a Cybertronian?And perhaps the establish a creator-creation bond?

Got to think of a new name for Toddler Buddy...Hope you enjoy!

Hope you enjoy!

Sunstreaker's Human toddler turn Bot

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Slight Angst, Human/ Cybertronian reader

IDW/G1

It was a case of ‘wrong place at the wrong time’.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had to leave for patrol that morning, leaving Buddy at the base.

They were on break from school and was sleeping in.

Sunstreaker himself would have loved to get in another hour of sleep, but duty calls.

Buddy was left in the care of most of the bots in the base.

The more optics looking after them the better right?

…Right?

Out on patrol… Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are driving down the empty road. Sunstreaker: “How much longer until we can go back?” Sideswipe: “Just a couple more miles Sunny.” Sunstreaker grumbles. Sideswipe: “Don’t get your tailpipe twisted. We’ll be back and helping Buddy color their books before you know it.” BEEP! BEEP! The com line was sounding off. The twins both pick up the call. Sideswipe: “This is Sideswipe, what’s—” CRASH! Smokescreen: “Bluestreak get them out of there! Oh! You guys answered.” Sunstreaker: “Smokescreen what’s going on? Is Buddy all right?” SCREECH! Smokescreen: “Umm, okay is subjective right now…” Sunstreaker: “I am only going to repeat this one more time. What is GOING ON!?” Sideswipe: “Geez Sunny let the mech speak. Go on Smokes.” Smokescreen: “I—well they—You know what I think its better if you guys came in an—SCRAP! BLUESTREAK GRAB THEM BEFORE THEY GET OUT THE DOOR! WHAT DO YOU MENA THEY’RE GONE!” BLITZ! The line went dead. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe sharply turn around and burn rubber to get to the base.

By the time the twins made it to the base, there were already search parties looking around for Buddy.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe get the summary from Prowl and Jazz.

Laserbeak had entered in the base not too long after they had gone out and fired a strange looking gun blindly before retreating.

The beam had hit Buddy turning them into a sparkling.

Yes, Sunstreaker nearly passed out at the news, but Sideswipe hoisted him back to his pedes as the other mechs continued.

Buddy was very scared and confused at first, before they found out how much easier it was to inerct with everyone as a bot.

Bluestreak and Smokescreen had done a good job in making sure Buddy was comfortable and held their new servos when things got a bit scary for them.

Buddy kept on asking where Sunstreaker was and that they wanted him to see them like this.

Cue the sparkling chase throughout the entire base before they slipped into a vent that lead to the outside world.

Sunstreaker: “Well, do we know where they are now?” Prowl pulls up a data pad: “We are getting the information now. Wheeljack had the idea of microchipping Buddy before they learned how to walk.” Sideswipe and Sunstreaker: “They couldn’t walk!” Jazz: “Like we said before, they were turned into a sparkling, a NEW sparkling. The little thing could barely walk without falling on their face.” Sunstreaker feels increasing stress. PING! Prowl: “The locztion is set for…” Prowl pauses before showing the data pad to Jazz. The twin get a bad feeling after swings both mech’ door wings stiffen. Sunstreaker: “Well!? Where’s my sparkling!?” Jazz and Prowl look at each other for a minute before nodding. Prowl starts walking away calling several bots to come and follow him. Jazz: “Okay fellas, you might wanna sit down for this.” Sunstreaker and Sideswipe sit down. Jazz: “…Buddy’s location was last seen outside Decepticon HQ.” THUD! Sunstreaker passes out and lands on his face with a sick looking Sideswipe.

With Buddy…

Buddy was lost for a while now.

All they wanted to do was show Sunstreaker their new frame, and now they couldn’t even remember the way back home.

They were by the shoreline when something started flying around.

For a split-second Buddy thought the planes were Decepticon’s they had seen on Teletran-One’s screens.

Buddy’s optics widen as well as their smile seeing the familiar red plane land in front of them. Buddy: “Mr. Powerglide!” Powerglide runs up and scoops them up in a hug. Powerglide: “Geez kiddo! You’re a bit far from home, aren’t you?” Buddy nods feeling bad about running off. Powerglide: “Lets get you home. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are worried sick for ya.” Buddy perks up a bit when the name of the yellow mech is dropped. Buddy: “Okay!” Powerglide: “And AWAY we go!”

All the bots sighed in relief hearing that Powerglide had found Buddy safe and sound.

Today’s events could have gone much worse if the Decepticons had found out about Buddy’s whereabouts.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe where taken into a different room before they could meet Buddy.

Mainly because Sunsreaker kept on pulling ‘Prowl’s’ on every surface he could turn over.

Prowl and Jazz accompany the sparkling to the room.

The door opens. The twins both stand up at the sound of the door opening. Sunstreaker: “Any sign of them? Are they okay!” Sideswipe notices a small frame behind Jazz’s pedes. He nugdes his twin’s arm and points to Jazz’s pedes. Sunstreaker pauses. Sunstreaker: “Buddy?” The sparkling’s helm pops from Jazz’s side. They smile widely. Buddy: “Sunny!” Sunstreaker falls to his knees as Buddy leaps into his arms. Sunstreaker just holds them tightly as they ramble on about their frame and how cool they look.

The answer of how to get Buddy back to normal is still unknown given the machine used to turn Buddy Cybertronian was in Decpticon hands.

For now Buddy was Cybertronian until further notice.

Buddy did miss being able to hide in certain places, but on the bright side they were much stronger and durable.

Just like Sunstreaker!

Speaking of the yellow mech, it takes a long time for anyone to convince him to leave the room without Buddy in his arms or nearby.

He makes sure that Buddy has a shiny finish and buffed frame.

His spark melted a bit when they wanted their paintjob to have the same yellow as his.

It is much easier to handle Buddy being much bigger and the same species, not that Sunstreaker would ever admit it out loud.

Honestly as long as Buddy is safe and happy, the mech couldn’t care what species they were.

[lolaandthens0me]

Question for you: Do you ever worry about giving this kink too much importance in your life?

I ask as someone contemplating a big move that, ultimately, is about being closer to other ABDLs.

There’s other upsides besides that, but were I born a vanilla fella, I’d probably be sticking closer to home.

It feels both exciting and scary at the same time. Does it sound crazy?

Hello Anon and thank you for this really amazing question!

As someone whose life is very kink-heavy, I periodically check in with myself and ask this question: am I finding a balanced life? There are times when my days and even weeks and very kink-oriented and then it will ebb and I'll be focused on other things like training, family, or career path stuff. As with hobbies or friend groups or lots of other things that hold our attention in life, kink too can ebb and flow. That being said, I think it's important to check in with ourselves to make sure that we're finding a healthy balance in all things we're doing.

For me, that balance includes having a close group of friends outside of kink, as well as a couple of hobbies/activities that I do regularly outside of kink and my kink circles. These close friends are open, empathetic and curious people that are striving to live an authentic life, just as I am. They know that I'm kinky and that I make content, but that's all they know about that side of me. It's important for me to be surrounded by people that I can be myself with; I don't feel that I have to hide myself around. I've also found a hobby that I've really invested some time in where I can just be plain-old-*insert my name here* in. It's a good escape from my everyday life, just as any hobby is from work life or family life or adulting life. My work life and everyday life just happen to be kink-centered at the moment. And I love it. If I find that I'm losing myself or I'm not happy and fulfilled in this life anymore, then it will be time to make a change.

As for the second part of your question, I don't think it sounds crazy at all. My advice is to make sure that this move makes sense for you financially, that you're in a stable, good place where you're not leaving behind some responsibilities or important stuff like family/school, etc that really acquire your attention there at the moment, and that there are other cool opportunities and reasons to move where you're moving to outside of kink.

I am so freaking happy and thriving now that I've moved to a place where I can be surrounded by my kink circle and in the same city as my partner/Daddy. It was absolutely the right decision for me. Living near "home"/where I grew up, it was really difficult for me to feel like I had the space to truly grow and be my more authentic self. I felt held back by the person I was/used to be and making a physical move helped me transition into this more real, truth-living, glorious being I'm becoming. My roommate is in the ABDL community, and this allows me to wear diapers 24/7 without needing to hide or be uncomfortable about it. The people I see most often and hangout/party with are all either ABDL's or in the broader kink BDSM realm. They are so fun, great communicators, responsible adults, and open people who really see and care about one another. Being able to live out our authentic kink selves within this group has helped each of us find self-acceptance and self-love. And that is invaluable.

I wish you the best and all of the good vibes as you move forward into whichever path truly allows you to be and love yourself. And if that path includes moving to an ABDL mecca, then hell yes!!

[th3tism]

wb like tf2 mercs x a fairy reader? sparkley pretty lil fella and this big scary bloody man <3

like they'd think they're high or drunk or something and then they're like "holy fucking shit"

or just like get a fly swatter and kill the damn thang :(

I can't stop laughing at the thought of a tiny lil fairy with this big bloody guy. It's funny <3

Mercs: Scout, Spy, Demo, Soldier, Pyro

All pronouns for Pyro btw

Sfw!

Warnings: cursing

Mercs with a fairy/pixie reader

Scout

He absolutely thinks he's seeing shit when he sees you

He actually thinks you're a fly and tries swatting at you

But then you bite his finger and he realizes "oh shit that's not a fly"

So after a bunch of thinking, he just makes you a little jar that you can live in that he takes you out of when you want or just when hes bored and wants

Spy:

He kills you :(

Ok that was a joke but he tries

(just like scout) he thinks you're a fly

But when he realizes you're not, he probably gives you a little dress/suit and calls it a day

When you come back he's confused, so this time he gives you some food

Then when you come back be decides to talk to you, and he finds out he actually really likes having you around

Now he makes sure to leave out food and water for you on his window, and eventually, small flowers and gifts

Demo:

He's not phased

He's seen a lot weirder

So when he sees you he just offers you some of his drink

If you say no, he'll let you go on with your day

You say yes, hell share a few more with you and hang out for a bit

If you come back, he'll probably do the same thing spy did and give you food and hang out with ya a bit more

Then it turns into talks, into late night chats, making sure ya don't die, and now y'all are dating

Pyro:

They're also not phased

She sees everyone as cute babies and fairies so you aren't anything new

He still likes having you around though

They thinks you're pretty

She doesn't care if you're tiny, he just really likes you

Like Scout, they'll give you a little jar home and keep you safe

Soldier:

Jk

But once he sees you he freaks the fuck out

After you explain stuff to him he'll be a bit more calm

Now he just acts like a guard dog for you

He makes sure no one squashes you or hurts you

-------------------------------

Hiii tism here, if y'all want me to add any other mercs you can ask and I'll make another post

[h7jfangirl]

WONDERLAND KING!JEKYLL AU IDEA

IM PROBABILY BEING DELUSIONAL BUT HEAR ME OUT

So, we know that Alice exist in tgs universe, she is a ringmaster of a circus with the wonderland fellas as her sidekicks, she appears in chapter 9 and 15

So, WONDERLAND EXISTS in tgs

And also, with this fact, i was listening to this song that is a fan-made song made by Lydia The Bard;

She has a whole series of videos where she sings and compuse villain songs of alternative evil version of the princess (Female main characters) of Disney. Every songs has their own animatic to ilustrate the idea of this particular escenario where for what reason or another the princess became evil, villains This animatic was made by @lazyeule

(If you dont want to see the video); In this alternative story, Alice is being taking over by the mad forces of Wonderland, she loses her own mind and the senses of self until the point she transforms into the personification of wonderland itself (The real queen of wonderland) and goes to attack the normal world, her once called ¨home¨

So the idea its that this happens to Jekyll

No Hyde, but Jekyll

Imagine this; For some reason, Jekyll and Hyde end up getting lose in wonderland, and so they spend the whole day trying to find a way to return back London. In the way, Jekyll and Hyde can completely seperate from each other (Wonderland its capable to make Hyde have his own body) and so they both decide to go by seperate ways (THEY ARE FREE FROM THE OTHER, YEI!!!). While Edward starts to have a hard time in Wonderland, it seems like Henry its getting to much comfortable in this place... a little bit to much. He starts to change and he is noticing this, sometimes he finds him feeling to joyful or delusional and acting wild and cruel with others! it feels similar like when he used to be Hyde, but thats impossible because he is no longer inside him anymore! unless... something else took his place

But its not like another identity like Hyde was, but these urges and desires, he hears voices everywhere who tells him things and for some reason he often can´t resist them at all, not matter how much he tries to fight them, in the end he is convince to do so and actually find enjoyment in that, a thing that in the moments when he goes back to sanity he finds scary and regretful. And worse, its like the place itself leads him into that way, giving the perfect chances for him to lose control over himself and let it be with no consequences, and full control over others

It seems like Wonderland has chosen Henry

There is a point where Henry gets finally consumed by Wonderland, his view of the world has change and now has the ability to change others at his will, so Henry goes back home and invades all London, why? to change the world as the one he desires, a world where mad science its accepted completely as it its, where Hyde its no longer a part of him, where he dosent have to worry of being evil, and no one cant say anything about him and Robert

Or couse, Alice would help to get Henry back to normal, apperently Wonderland need a host that could take over so its madness would finally expand to other realms, it tried to do it with Alice and failed... it tried with Jekyll and succeded

[bradshawsbaby]

Letters to My Love // Part X

Rosie the Riveter

Series Masterlist

JOIN THE TAGLIST!

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: When you signed up to volunteer with the USO, you never anticipated that you would meet a man like Ensign Robert Floyd. Fate brings you together one balmy spring evening in Charleston—the night before Bob is set to ship off across the Atlantic. Pen and paper become your only means of sharing your heart with the naval aviator who’s captivated it, igniting a correspondence that spans the distance between you. Can love blossom even as war rages and thousands of miles keep you apart?

Word Count: 2.9k

Author’s Note: I'm so sorry for how long it's taken me to update this story! One of my goals for 2024 is to get this series completed. Although it's taken me so long to update, Bobby and Peach are never far from my mind and are always in my heart. I hope you enjoy this latest installment of their story!

Set the Mood: If you’re looking for some 1940s vibes, check out the playlist I made to pair with the story.

The title of this chapter is obviously a tribute to the iconic figure of Rosie the Riveter. But it was also inspired by the song of the same name by The Four Vagabonds, which you can listen to here!

Dedication: As always, this story is dedicated to my dear friend, Clara (@luminousnotmatter). She was the first person to listen to all my endless ramblings about this universe, and she has never stopped supporting me or believing that I can get it finished. Thank you, Clara!

Warnings: Alternating POV, references to casualties of war and grief, slight angst, lots and lots of fluff.

July 8, 1943

My Dearest Peach,

I want to start by saying that I’m terribly sorry it’s taken me so long to respond to your last letter. I think I’ve worn down the paper to nearly nothing with how many times I’ve read it, but it’s been hard to get a free moment to sit and write you the response you deserve. Things are really heating up over here, and we have to be ready to move at a moment’s notice. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat down to start a new letter, only for us to be called up just as I set my pen to the paper.

To set your mind at ease, I want you to know that I’m alright. I’m not sure how much information they’re sharing with you all back home, but I know one of the fellas got a letter from his wife recently and she told him that three different families on their street got notified that their boys had been killed in action in just one week. It made her real scared that she was going to be the next one getting a knock on the door. I won’t lie to you, Peach, because I don’t think that’s fair—we’re losing a lot of men over here. It’s scary to think that any day now, it could be me they’re sending a flag home for.

I hate to start this letter off so morbidly, but there’s been something weighing on my mind lately, especially since my buddy got that letter from his wife. If anything happens to me over here, you won’t know. They’ll tell my family, sure, but not you. And I can’t stand the thought of you waiting for another letter that isn’t going to come. So I’ve spoken to Paul, Tommy Boy, and Benny about it. If anything happens to me over here, Peach, they’re going to write to you and let you know. It gives me some comfort to think that their words will be a little softer and kinder than the formality of Uncle Sam.

I hope this doesn’t make you sad, Peach, although I admit it makes me a bit sad to write. The truth is, I’m quite alright right now, like I said, and I don’t plan on letting anything happen to me over here. We have to take that drive to Folly Beach and get ice cream on the pier, after all. I tell you, that thought alone is enough to get me through even the hardest days over here.

Alright, enough of all this. Time to get back to your lovely letter. They’re calling us for dinner right now, but as soon as I’m finished, I’m coming right back to continue this letter. Nothing’s going to stop me from getting it to you.

I’m back, Peach. All the fellas were teasing me in the galley because of how quickly I scarfed down my dinner, but I didn’t care because I knew I was getting back to you and your sweet words, and that means a whole lot more than the crummy food they’re serving over here. Boy, I tell you, I sure do miss home-cooked meals. They even had—I’m not lying, I promise—they even had peach cobbler for dessert tonight. It made me think of you, but I’m sure it’s nowhere near as good as the cobbler your family makes, so I didn’t even bother giving it a taste.

Now I do have to say that you’re right, of course. I hate hearing you call yourself shy and mousey. If that’s the way you feel when I call myself boring, then I certainly promise I won’t ever do it again. It’s a deal—neither of us will talk about ourselves like that anymore.

Nothing you say could ever sound silly to me, Peach. Even though we only got to spend a few hours in each other’s company, your letters have made me feel like we’ve known each other for years and years. I’m honored that I’ve been able to make you feel seen. I do see you, Peach. You’re the most beautiful, interesting, intelligent girl I’ve ever known, and I hope you can see that in yourself. For what it’s worth, you’ve helped me to come out of my shell, too. Paul was just saying the other day that I look like a new man—that I’m standing taller and seem more confident than he’s ever seen in all the years he’s known me. I had just finished reading one of your letters when he said that. I don’t think that’s a coincidence. You’re turning me into a new man, Peach, and I like it. I like it a lot.

I’m glad that you passed along my well wishes to Emily. Even though part of me still thinks her fiancé is a dunce, I do wish them all the best. Has she heard from Eddie? I don’t know where he’s stationed, but if you’d like to find out and send the information to me, I can try to keep an ear out. How has the wedding planning been going? I’m still confident you’re going to make the prettiest bridesmaid.

I did pass along your invitation in my last letter home to my family, and my mother said she would certainly inquire after the Sheridan residence should she ever happen to find herself in Charleston. I think she’s happy that you and I are still writing to each other. She’s even happier about the thought of swapping recipes with you. Watch out—if the two of you ever do meet, I think she’ll hold you hostage in the kitchen all day.

Now I am very proud to hear about all the fine work you and Dottie have been doing with your Victory Garden. I’m sure there must have been a lot of progress since you last wrote to me! I eagerly await news about the beans, carrots, cucumbers, and tomatoes. I’m sure you’ve been able to make lots of hearty soups and healthy salads. My mouth is watering at the notion. Like I said, the food in the galley has been pretty crummy lately.

I’m sorry to hear there’s been some trouble back home. I’m sure it can’t be easy for anyone, with all the rationing and the fear and the worry. I promise that we’re doing our best over here to bring this war to an end quickly so that life can return to normal for all of you over there. For us, too. We really can’t wait to be home again.

Peach, I want you to know that it is our duty, our honor, and, quite frankly, our privilege to be fighting for you over here. I know the other fellas would agree with me saying so. So I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything at home to “earn” us fighting for you. That said, I think it’s incredible that you want to contribute to the war effort in that way. I’m sure you haven’t been waiting for my response or my approval—which you shouldn’t, by the way—but I give a wholehearted yes to you applying for that position at the air station. We just recently saw Mr. Norman Rockwell’s illustration of Rosie the Riveter on the cover of the Post, and I have to say that I think you’d wear those coveralls a hundred times better.

I’m so proud of you, Peach. I want you to know that.

Speaking of the war effort, we have a couple big campaigns coming up very soon. I can’t say much more than that, but your well wishes and prayers for success would be very much appreciated. I’m always thankful for them.

Until next time, Peach! I’m already counting down the days until your next letter arrives.

Most Truly Yours,

Bobby

P.S. I almost forgot! I told Paul how much you loved the fact that he sends drawings home to Clara and Paul, Jr.—by the way, that reminds me, how is little Frankie doing?—and he was more than happy to create a few illustrations for you. He did a couple portraits—one of me and one of you, based off your beautiful photograph. He said to apologize that he’s too much of an amateur to capture all of your beauty. He did say that he thought he did a fine enough job capturing my likeness—I’m telling you, Peach, I think my friends officially like you better than they like me. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

July 31, 1943

My Dearest Bobby,

Please don’t ever feel like you need to apologize for how long it takes you to write back to me. I can only imagine how difficult it is to find the time to write with everything that must be happening over there, and yet you always find the time to pen the most thoughtful and wonderful letters. I cherish each and every one of them, and I promise that I’m more than content to read your old letters as I await the new ones.

I’m so sorry to hear about how many of our boys we’re losing. Just last week, our neighbors, the Pattersons—you remember I mentioned Mrs. Patterson had helped me and Dottie with our Victory Garden?—received news that their son, Clarence was killed in action in France. It was devastating. Dottie and I had just been coming home from the grocery store when we saw the officer standing on their front steps with a telegram in hand. We knew what that meant. Mrs. Patterson has been inconsolable since. Mr. Patterson is equally devastated, but I think he’s trying to be strong for her. Dottie and I have been taking turns cooking meals for them and spending some time over at their house. We just want them to know that they’re not alone.

I admit, Bobby, that every time I hear news of someone else being lost in this war, I immediately think of you. It feels selfish, but I’m always so relieved when the news is about someone else and not you. I don’t know how I would bear it. I pray every day that I never have to receive that letter from Paul or Tommy Boy or Benny, but I am touched that you’ve thought about how I could be notified. Oh, Bobby, I hope more than anything that your parents never have to experience what the Pattersons are going through.

But you’re right—you’re going to come home safely. We have too many plans for you to do otherwise!

I’m sorry to hear that the food aboard your carrier has been so crummy lately. I wish that I could whip up a home-cooked feast and send it in the mail with my letters. Every time I sit down to dinner now, I think of all of you, and I count my blessings. Things aren’t perfect on the homefront, but I know that we certainly have no room to complain with all you boys are going through. I promise to have a peach cobbler waiting for you when you come home—and a pumpkin pie, for good measure.

If I’m turning you into a new man, Bobby, then you simply must know that you’re turning me into a new woman as well. I hardly remember the girl that I was before I met you. Can you believe that it’s been over a year now since our paths first crossed? I feel like my life is totally different now. The way that I see myself, the way I interact with others, the way that I’m not so terrified to step out of my comfort zone anymore—so much of that is thanks to you, Bobby. I’m still me, of course. But I feel like I’m a stronger, braver version of myself now. I like it, too.

It’s so kind of you to offer to keep an ear out for Eddie’s infantry! Emily received a letter from him around the same time that I received my letter from you, and he seems to be doing well, same as you, thank goodness. Eddie is part of the 1st Infantry Division. Emily said that last she knew, he was stationed somewhere near the Rhineland. The wedding planning has been going very well. Pretty much everything is set now—all we need is the groom. Emily can’t wait for Eddie to come home for good. Once he does, they’ll be able to officially set the date. Us bridesmaids are going to be wearing lilac-colored dresses. Dottie says she already knows how she’s going to style my hair. I hope that you’re home, too, when the wedding finally happens. Emily said that I could invite you to be my date. Only if you’d like that, of course.

I would be very happy to be kept hostage in the kitchen with your mother! I’m sure there’s so much I could learn from her, and it sounds like a splendid way to spend the day. I look forward to meeting her one of these days!

Oh, the Victory Garden, Bobby! You wouldn’t believe how it’s grown! Trust me, no one is more shocked than me and Dottie. Well, maybe Paddy. He knows firsthand what brown thumbs my sister and I normally have. At first, we weren’t so sure what was going to happen—the cucumbers seemed a bit small and some of the tomatoes didn’t really take. But by the end of June, everything was thriving! It’s been such a joy to watch, and I have to admit, both Dottie and I are feeling extremely accomplished. Frankie loves to spend time in the garden with us, although he spends a bit more time digging in the dirt than helping us pick vegetables, I’m afraid. Now that we’re in the middle of summer, we’re experimenting with zucchini and eggplant. We might also try radishes and turnips. We’re turning into quite the farmers! If your mother has any recipes to share, we’d be more than grateful and happy to try them out!

Now I admit that I’ve saved the most exciting news for last. At the beginning of June, I decided to go for it and I applied for the position at the air station in Goose Creek, the one Paddy told me about. I’m sure being his sister-in-law gave me a bit of an advantage, but it only took a couple days for me to hear back from them. I got the job! I’ve officially been working on the assembly line since the middle of June. It’s hard work, and I’ve never been so tired in all my life, but I have to say that I’m really proud of the work we’re doing. It’s funny that you mention Rosie the Riveter—my job these past few weeks has actually been to fasten pieces of the planes we’re assembling with rivets! So I guess you could call me Peach the Riveter. Doesn’t have quite the same ring though, does it?

I know that the chances are small that anything I’m helping to build is going to reach you specifically, Bobby, but I can’t help but smile every time we finish a new part, or get a new plane put together. I imagine you and Paul, or Tommy Boy or Benny hopping inside and it brings me more pleasure and pride than I could possibly explain. I feel like I’m doing something important, something meaningful and special. If spending hours riveting until my fingers turn numb brings you home even a day faster, then it will all have been worth it. And it gives me a real sense of purpose, driving to work each day with Paddy. I feel proud of myself.

I’ve made some new friends at work, too! Florence and Virginia—we call them Florie and Ginny—are the loveliest, kindest girls. They had already been working on the assembly line for a few months before I got the job, so they’ve been showing me the ropes and teaching me everything they know. They’ve made me feel so welcome, so a part of things. I have to admit that I was terrified my first week or so, terrified that I was going to mess something up or make a fool of myself. But I’ve settled in quite well, thankfully.

It means a lot to me to know that I have your support, Bobby. Truly, it does. Thinking of you and all that you’re doing to protect us is what really motivated me to take this job, so thank you.

Of course I’m sending all my best wishes for the campaigns you have coming up! Wherever you are right now, I pray that you’re safe and that your missions are successful.

You’re so brave, Bobby. Have I told you that lately? Even if I have, you deserve to hear it again. I’m so, so proud of you. You’re my hero.

I hope this letter gets to you soon. I wish it could grow wings and fly to you. I know time is going to pass so slowly until I’m holding a new letter from you in my hands. But until then, Bobby, I’m thinking of you and holding you in my heart.

Most Truly and Affectionately Yours,

Peach

P.S. Paul is quite the artist!!! I now have his portraits hanging right beside the photographs you sent me. Please tell him how talented I think he is, and how much I love the drawings he made for me! I was especially touched by the little note he wrote me on the back of your portrait. I hope he’s doing well. Send my best to him and Tommy Boy and Benny!

TAGLIST: @teacupsandtopgun @saturnsbabe69 @gigisimsonmars @marchingicenotes7 @high-speed-r @cadencebeat2662 @up-thereinthesky @lostinthefandoms11 @strangerparks @sweetwhispersofchaos @callsign-magnolia @the-wayward-daughter @becks-things @jostyriggslover96 @solo-pitstop-vibes @wretchedmo @muddwheelz123 @ryebecca @lewmagoo @withahappyrefrain @rhettabbotts

[spahhzy]

When little Jaune Arc got to the playground, he honestly thought it would be the same old playing by yourself thing. Most of the other kids were in the process of being trained by their families in the way of being a huntsman.

Jaune sighed. He, too, wanted to be a huntsman... but for some reason, his family never wanted to train him. No matter how many times he asked or begged, it was still a resounding 'No' from both mom and dad.

Jaune feet kicked up some dirt as he made his way towards the swing set, but to his surprise, instead of it being empty, their was actually someone sitting in the swing next to him.

Timidly, Jaune got into the swing next to the stranger, feeling a bit uncomfortable as the stranger face was covered with a hood, but Jaune did his best not to pay attention to the stranger but them sitting and NOT doing anything wS beginning to scare him.

???: Don't be afraid friend.

Lil Jaune's blue eyes widened as he heard the stranger speak, how did he know!?

???: I promise you I mean you no harm, I'm just here to think is all.

Jaune: o-okay...

???: Why are you here all alone?

Jaune: ...uhm cause I-I don't have any friends.

???: Really, well, that makes two of us...I too don't have any friends....well, that would be a lie...I had one good friend but I haven't seen him in a long time.

Jaune: Wow... I'm sorry, I'm sure you guys were very good friends.

???: You betcha, you could say we were inseparable!

Jaune: Wow... I wish I had a friend like that... Everyone is just off being cool heroes and stuff...

???: You want to be a hero?

Jaune: Oh boy, do I, that's like my dream!

???: What does a hero usually do?

Jaune: Hero's....uh they help those I need, like in the stories and fairytales.

???: So you want to help people?

Jaune: Mmhm! I wanna help everyone!

???: Everyone, you say, hmm? You know what, you're going to be someone hero one day, I can already see it.

Jaune: Really, sir, you mean it?

???: Mmhm! And you know what, if I may, could you help me out? Think of it as part of your hero training.

Jaune: But I'm not a hero...

???: Not with that attitude you won't be. Think of this little request as the stepping stones of your training!

Little Jaune pondered for a moment but reluctantly nodded if he could begin to start being a hero in training then he would help the stranger.

The stranger reached into his cloak before pulling out...

Jaune looked on in awe...their in the strangers hands was a small blue sleeping... kitten?

???: Can you watch after this little fella here? They have been through a-lot...

Jaune paled...he couldn't bring home a cat, his mom and dad would be upset!

???: I know what you're thinking, and don't worry, only you and some other folks can see them.

Jaune: Really...

???: Oh, most definitely! Your mom, dad, and sisters will see nothing.

Now Jaune was beginning to have doubts...a invisible cat?

Jaune: Wait...who are the other people who can see them?

???: Bad bad people, they tried to hurt the poor fella. I don't have names, but I can tell you one will have a metal arm with red eyes, another will be snow witch with a scar on eye, another will have gold eyes and cat ears just like our friend here and another one will have silver eyes and a large scary stick...

Jaune just gulped. These people seemed like real villains. Why would they want to hurt this poor cat!

???: lastly, watch out for the silent double colored terror... she will be the most persistent.

Jaune just nodded as the stranger gently handed him the blue kitten.

???: You're gonna be a great hero, Jaune. I can already see it in you.

Jaune: Y-you think so?

???: Oh yes, I already see a little bit of my friend in you, and he was my greatest hero.

Jaune: Wow!

???: Yep, but it's time for me to go now, little hero. Remember, take very good care of our little friend here, and when the time is right, I will meet you again in a land where fantasy comes to life!

Jaune: O-okay, uhm...

???: J.C.

Jaune: J.C?

???: mmhm!

Mama Arc: Jaune, honey, come on its time to go!

Jaune: coming mom...uhm thanks J.C for...giving me a chance to become a hero.

Jaune then carried the kitten close to his chest as he turned his back to the stranger, who waved at him, Jaune turned and waved back before finally returning to his mom as they both left the park, and Jaune found it weird but he thought he saw bright blue eyes coming from the stranger...ah well must have been a trick of the light.

The stranger watched as Jaune and his mother left the park before looking at his hand that began to fade away.

???: Yes, you will become the hero, Jaune...my hero!

A gust of wind blew around him as his hood fell and revealed a mess of blonde hair and a slightly old face marred with a disturbing chesire grin and bright blue eyes.

CCJaune: My hero forever!

[thewandererh]

‼️⚠️TW // medical imagry (IV, slight depiction of veins), noose imagry, a poorly drawn realistic heart organ, intense eye contact, and a set of fellows who are in anguish

@calamarispider💥💥

recently rewatched a playthrough of little nightmares 1 and 2, and drew calamari’s folks with said videos as background noise :]! was trying out different styles of brushes and things on ibispaintX, and had quite a bit of fun doing so. i’ve been easing into doing stress relief art and this was a good example of that?

hope you enjoy yet another bout of fanart calamari haha 🐥 (<- looks up at you like this)

💙 - [gouche brushes, some watercolor] was playing around with the various palettes he was given in arts of him by calamarispider, and sort or blended them all together. I love how blurry mind looks, almost as if you’re passing out while viewing the image. fits with the medical vibe! he looks like he’s skulking away in shame or fear or something. i think i made him look weak because i’m a mind enthusiast. damn. the dark background makes it feel gloomy and mellow, but also scary?

❤️ - {marker primarily, little watercolor} i know he’s like 🧍 but his presence alone can be intimidating, that stare could drive away anyone and he *knows* it. played around a lot with layers and lasso stuff here, and leaned more into a sketchy style almost as if he’s barely there. i love the background in particular because it’s grey and not red, giving him a loss of and a heightening of individuality. doing the hair was fun XD. i specifically remember the fella i was watching play little nightmares 2 at this point getting frustrated with the teacher. silly memory

💜 - (watercolor, pencil pens) this one bounces around styles a lot, and it almost makes him seem more real? i was frustrated with it at first, but i love how some parts of him are more complex and sharp than others. mixed two art references of heart calamarispider had drawn, giving him a sketchy little eye and a more unseen bleeding eye under the blindfold. it looks cool i think :]. this was a big experimentation piece that i look back fondly on :D! I love them all but this especially. I love heart’s almost ‘angel of death’ wing cloak things haha

off i go 🏃💨

OH MAN i forgor minds crown. its ok he left it in the oven(??????)