#up there with my language of rope quote

[adreamthatsworthkeeping]

"You live in a great big giant spaceship and there aren't any chairs and you haven't even noticed because nobody ever comes round!"

[f1crecs]

Fic Rec List - Lando/Oscar

if your fic is on this list and you don’t want it to be, please let us know and we will remove it immediately, no questions asked. we have contacted most of the authors on this list, but sometimes people fall through the gaps - just pop us a message🤍

have a pairing you want us to do next? please read the faqs and then head to the inbox.

don’t forget to give the authors featured on this list some love in the form of kudos, bookmarks, and comments

Only a few months ago, we featured a Lando/Oscar fic on our super rare pair list. Now, it's our most requested ship. Wow!

We hope you enjoy these ones! 🍊

nsfw: By a thread by @mctwinkdom | 5k | E

Oscar and Lando have a text conversation about thongs – things escalate from there. I loved the formatting of this fic, the texting really works well as a structure and the rest is filled up by the authors lovely characterization of both Lando and Oscar. I especially love Oscar being his normal aloof self, a little bit nervous about his new teammate (but so so in to it when the convo turns spicy) while Lando is just a strange little horny boy with a liking for ”thongs”.

Oscar raises an eyebrow. He thought his answer was pretty straightforward, didn’t think he’d have to spell it out for Lando. (me): I wasn’t talking about shoes in my tweet” Now that would teach him. Fucking British. Always thinking they have full powers over the English language. Okay, granted, maybe they invented it but still.

Sanctus by debrief | T | 5.5k

This is a renaissance au with lovers to enemies (and back), beginning with Oscar serving Lando's high-status family. What I like: This is some of the most incredible writing I've encountered. Not only is it a masterclass in non-linear narratives, but it's packed with striking imagery and fascinating power dynamics. There are phrases and sentences in this fic that I can quote off the top of my head. It's immersive and heart-wrenching and beautiful.

'Lando had been blithe, Oscar had been brave. They were seventeen and unforgivably naive. It was a time of spires, domes, cathedrals, rebirth celebrated at the heart of the greatest city-state this side of the world. A war of high art and marginalized decadence, long expanses of moon-kissed skin bathed in gratuitous bathos, love and lust flirting vows over gilt-framed canvases commissioned by wealthy nobles who have known neither.'

legerdemain by anonymous | Not Rated | 5.8k

Oscar gets roped into teaching Lando how to play chess, and quickly finds out that Lando's endgame is a lot more complicated than it seems. I loved this fic for a variety of reasons - firstly because of the way that the author's love for and understanding of chess shines through so clearly. And secondly, the characterisation of both Lando and Oscar is complex and witty and so fitting to who they both are. Lando is cheeky and a little weird and far sharper than he lets on, and Oscar is dry and matter-of-fact and unexpectedly into Lando. This is one of those fics that can get you sold on the Lando/Oscar pairing if you were initially uncertain about it - the slow build-up of tension and realisation is brilliantly captured, with chess and chess strategy being used to build UST between these two in a way that feels perfectly fitting to them.

'“Gotcha,” Lando says. “So like. D’you prefer blowjobs?” He moves the white rook to attack the hanging pawn and figures out the rest of the endgame puzzle pretty effortlessly.'

soft vanilla foreplay by anonymous | M | 7k

AU. Lando, a member of a Robin Hood style crime group, meets Oscar, who turns out to be a cat-hybrid vigilante superhero himself. Oscar joins Lando’s gang. Together they fight injustice (by doing crime). This fic is really well written and incredibly funny. It leans hard into the cat-Oscar joke - Oscar is very catlike in all the best ways and has some mannerisms that made me think the author definitely has one. Their meet-cute is hilarious and sets the tone for the entire fic.

' “No, I actually inherited the genes from my ancestors, who came from a planet of felids.” “Excuse me, did you mean a planet of furries?” “No, Jesus, Lando,” Oscar says emphatically, then he’s laughing, crinkling eyes and soft cheeks and bunny teeth. God, he’s so fucking cute. “No, I was found, um,” Oscar says, sobering from the laugh. He takes a deep breath. “In a handbag. Someone left me on the. Doorstep of a stranger’s house.” Lando looks up and gauges Oscar’s expression. He’s telling the truth. “I don’t know why I’m a cat,” Oscar says. Makes this shrugging expression without actually shrugging. “So…” Lando says. “How did you find out?” “Well. For one, I can speak to cats,” Oscar answers. Huh. This probably explains all the neighbourhood cats serenading Oscar from his balcony so much. “Okay,” Lando says, taking it all in stride. “And you fight crime by night?” “I work graveyard shifts at the supermarket,” Oscar says. “Yeah. Part-time. That’s three out of seven nights.” And Oscar is with Lando for two or three of the four remaining nights (they fuck every evening though) (and morning). Anyways, the maths doesn’t add up. Oscar sighs. “Well, I.” He pauses. “I climb up to fancy penthouses of people who run trust mills, and I take stuff. Then I redistribute.” Oh. Lando is mouthing the oh. “You’re a cat burglar,” Lando whispers it like it’s the funniest secret ever.'

nsfw: Needs Improvement by @strawberry-daiquiris | 7.1k | E

Zak tells Oscar his 'teammate communication' needs improvement. Mark sends him to a 'Psychic, Clairvoyant, Sorcerer' who ends up doing some voodoo that leads to Oscar and Lando being able to read each others' thoughts. Its got great characterisations and some humour mixed in with some angst and, of course, some smut. Plus one of the first Landoscar fics I read and it really drew me in.

'If he’s really that worried, Mark suggests, he could see a sports psychologist. Someone who can advise him how to work with Lando, really get to the core of what it means to be a good teammate. They could even do sessions together. “Like couples therapy.” Mark grins, clapping Oscar on the shoulder. “Only worse, because you won’t get any sex out of it.” The irony, really, is that Oscar and Lando don’t not get on. He’d actually thought they were doing pretty well. Lando laughs at his jokes, Oscar smiles through his stories. They don’t see eye to eye on music, or hobbies, or the taste of fish, but none of those things matter on track anyway. Even more ironic is that Oscar really wouldn’t mind having sex with Lando, if he’s honest.'

nsfw: Never have I ever by @mctwinkdom | E | 13k

Lando and Oscar play a game of Never Have I Ever, and it leads to some interesting revelations. Although its majority (very good) smut, this was a very heartwarming fic. The dialogue is fun and keeps you reading more. The characterisation of them feels realistic!

'But there was something between them, without shape or name, something that made them avert their gaze after staring at each other for one second too long, something that made them slightly jump if their hands were to brush. Something Lando had named in his mind: “I wanna fuck my teammate: the Remix”, in bold orange (papaya) letters with some glitter and fireworks.'

we are all in the butter but some of us are looking at the cars by xiaoluclair | T | 14.3k

Oscar's first season in F1 is about reaching the stars. It becomes about reaching Lando, too. The timing of this one feels very real to me, the way pieces slowly slot into place. The author places threads and waits until the end to pull on all of them, and it's lovely.

'Peer pressure, thinks Oscar, this is peer pressure. But Lando keeps it held out, eyes on Oscar and Oscar. Oscar takes the damn shoe. It’s probably one of the oddest experiences of his life. When he lowers it again, can feel the thin river of it cold on his chin, Lando’s still looking at him. Crows have walked in the skin beside his eyes.A minute later, Oscar watches him tip his head back, shoe against his mouth. Light shines through the gap and, just for a moment, it looks like he is swallowing the sun itself.'

nsfw: carried away by venerat | E | 22.1k

AU, non drivers. Lando impulsively asks Oscar to pretend to be his boyfriend to make an ex jealous. Oscar agrees, even though it's probably a bad idea when he likes Lando so much. Lando gradually comes to realise he is in love with Oscar. I am crazy for the fake dating trope. This has all the best parts of it - miscommunication, angst, gradual feelings realisation from the POV character and obvious pining from the other. Venerat is so good at this and the fic is a lovely journey. The characterisations are perfect, especially Oscar and his natural talent for understatement, which muddies the waters a bit.

'If there was anything Oscar would do, it was was focus very intently on the task assigned to him, until he got it exactly fucking right. That was what made him perfect for this particular task: the task of being Lando’s boyfriend. Fake boyfriend. “Okay,” Lando said, clearing his throat. “Stunning. Was thinking, maybe we could try it out at the cinema tomorrow.” He, Oscar, and the Lefrères were going to see the new Bond film. It was the perfect opportunity to be dickish and in love, as far as Lando was concerned. “Just didn’t want you to get all jumpy if I touched you,” he explained. “If that’s alright. Like. Yeah.” Oscar nodded. “Got it. Sounds good, mate. I’ll be, er, ready.” It was nice to be around such passion. Lando rolled his eyes. He was smiling inside, when he thought it. But Oscar did have some capacity to surprise him. Before Lando fucked off, Oscar stepped forward, closing the normal non-sexual gap between them, and wrapped Lando in a light hug. It was nothing—Oscar’s arms were barely even squeezing him—but Lando’s breath still caught in his chest like a stupid fucking idiot, freezing inside the hug. “Have a good one,” Oscar said when he drew back. He was pink, which made Lando feel better, given that his own ears were warming. Okay. They clearly needed practice. Desperately, in fact. “You too, babe,” Lando said, and winked. Then, before he could embarrass himself further, he spun on his heel and walked out.'

nsfw: climb up to your lips by @scenetocause | E | 28k (wip)

This fic is Lando/girl!Oscar (the always-a-different-sex trope). Lando has a massive crush on his teammate. He also has a submissive streak that starts to express itself around her. As their relationship develops, she picks up on this and starts finding ways to take care of him. They’re both a bit inexperienced at relationships and sex in general. I just love these two. They’re both slightly weird and awkward and don’t quite fit with anyone else but are turning out to be perfect for one another. It’s a learning curve for them both.

“Yeah, fuck.” Lando has to tilt his head back onto the sofa. He can feel it in his arse, where she touched him. He might feel it for the rest of his life. “Yeah, I. Fuck.” “Later.” she says, like a promise. It takes him a moment to work out she means them, later. Fucking. Which might be ambitious because he currently feels like he needs a refractory period of about a decade, after that one but he won’t spoil her dreams just yet. She's acidic, clever as ever in debrief and brutal in the way she deconstructs her own, botched Q3. Lando's probably staring at her a bit lovestruck but he's been doing that all season anyway so no one has to know it's over the phantom sensation of her inside him. Despite the lecture from Zak earlier Oscar tucks him under her arm on the drive from the hotel, playing with his hair. He's actually less worried about being killed by Andrea or whatever now but still doesn't get his phone out because he hasn't had time to clean up his insta follows and he doesn't want Oscar to think he's into anyone else. For someone who doesn't seem to think much of herself, she seems fairly assured he likes her. Which might, in retrospect, be something to do with the best part of a year he spent broadcasting that to her before he'd even realised it himself.'

already home by @nyoomfruits | T | 32.5k

Lando marries Oscar, his best friend and roommate, to keep his family from worrying about him so much. This is an absolute gem. It's sweet, funny, cozy, and the dynamic between the pairing and their friends is delightful.

“Yeah, well, you’re marrying me, so,” Lando says, sticking out his tongue, and Oscar laughs, that loud, bursting out of him laugh he does sometimes where he completely folds his body in half. Lando hides his self-satisfied smirk behind another bite of his pancake, and pretends like he isn’t committing the little laugh lines in the corner of Oscar’s eyes to his memory.'

thank you to @singsweetmelodies, @ocontraire, @maaxverstappen, @lydia-petze, @frickinsweet & @welightitup for compiling this list 🧡

[ominous-faechild]

⚜ INCORRECT QUOTES ⚜

Bringing back an old tag game!!!

Rule: use this generator to create “incorrect quotes” for your wip

(I feel legally obligated to post something actually about Faerie's Dawn today and I want to meme these idiots lmao)

Cloud: Tell me a little about yourself. Nova: I'd rather not, I really like this group.

Nova: I hate when people ask me, 'What did you do today?' Buddy, listen, I woke up at noon and then it was five pm, okay? I don't KNOW!

Nova: I will be using so much pink you’ll be seeing green by the end from sensory deprivation.

Sky: You're violent. Nova: Yeah but I'm also short and that's adorable.

Nova: Wanna get out of here and grab a bite to eat? Sky: I don’t usually eat with losers. Nova: Neither do I but I asked you, didn’t I?

Nova: Branch, you’re in charge! Sky: Branch, can we start a fire?

[while waiting outside the principal’s office] Nova: What are you in for? Cloud: Oh, they just want to know if it’s cool if I miss my classes tomorrow to run sound and lights for a presentation in the auditorium. What about you? Nova: I stabbed a kid with a screwdriver. Cloud: Cloud: Cloud: We live very different lives. Nova: Yes, we do.

Branch: Be careful about succumbing to these sorts of destructive... urges. Addiction can be a powerful thing. Nova: So am I. Bow down before your new supreme overlord, bitches.

Nova: When I get Doordash I order 20 Cheeseburgers at a time and heat them up throughout the week so that I don’t have to pay the delivery fee multiple times. Branch: I hope you understand how food poisoning works. Nova: I hope food poisoning understands how I work. I've never met a burger I couldn’t eat.

Nova: Branch's amazing at concentrating. Once he starts reading, the only way he’ll notice you is if you take his book away. Not even if you hit him or shake him! Sky: That was him ignoring you.

Sky, at Nova's funeral: I need a moment with them. Everyone else at the funeral: Of course. [leaves] Sky, leaning over Nova's coffin: Okay, listen here you little shit. I know you’re not dead. Nova, sitting up in the coffin: Yeah, no shit.

Sky: I hope you have an explanation for this. Cloud: We have three, actually! Nova: Pick your favorite.

Cloud: I bet you’re wondering why I gathered you here today. It’s because we need to have a discussion about how some people in this room aren’t getting along with other people in this room. Sky: Why did you say that so vaguely? Nova and I are literally the only people you called in here.

Sky: I love sarcasm! It’s like punching people in the face, but with words!

Sky: [trying to buy a Father's Day card at Hallmark] Sky: Excuse me, do you have any that just say "You are my dad?" Associate: Well, I- Sky: How about "You banged my mom?" Associate: No... Sky: You know what, I'll just get a blank one. Sky: [writes] You are a father. This is a day. Here is a card.

Cloud: You gave me up, you let me down, you turned around, and deserted me. Sky: But did I make you cry? Cloud: [cries on the spot] Sky: ... shit.

Sky: We wouldn’t last two minutes without Nova. Sky: Sky: Don’t tell them I said that.

Cloud: What language do they speak at the center of the earth? Cloud: Core-ean! Sky: The center of the earth is around 5430 degrees Celsius! Nobody is going to live there, so they don’t need a language! Cloud: Core-ean.

Cloud: You know, it’s fine to admit you were wrong. Sky: [sipping his drink after accidentally adding salt] I just like the way it tastes.

Branch: I never tell people off the bat that I'm gay. I wait. I wait until they say some homophobic shit and then I laugh and am like "you know I'm gay, right?" and watch the look of terror on their face. Sky: Sky: I like you.

Shade: Can you recommend a book that'll make me cry? Sky: General Mathematics 8th Grade Edition.

Shade: We have a problem. Branch: No, YOU have a problem. I have an idiot who keeps making them.

Shade: What the fuck. Shade: ESPN is showing 2003 national jump rope championship. Shade: Who the hell watches jump rope competiti- ooh bouncy!

Shade: A pessimist sees a dark tunnel. Cloud: An optimist sees light at the end of the tunnel! Branch: A realist sees a freight train. Sky: The train driver sees three idiots standing on the tracks.

Achilles: We’ll find another route, it’s not safe for amateur adventurers. Nova: That sounds like a challenge. Achilles: I have to stress, that is not a challenge. Nova: ... Is exactly what you say to dissuade the weak of heart from accepting the challenge. Well, challenge accepted! Achilles: There is no challenge!

Achilles: Okay, how do I look? Be honest. Cloud: There’s no critic more honest than Sky! Sky: Bad.

Achilles: We all have our demons. Achilles, grabbing Shade: This one’s mine.

Eve: Asa, don’t go picking a fight with Ailwyn. Don’t forget, they’re powerful, they could make life difficult for you. Asa: Wow, I wonder what it'd be like to have a difficult life.

Asa: Quitting! It's like trying, but easier!

Asa: If I fall down these stairs, I'm just going to lay down and accept my fate.

Asa: [walks into the kitchen, ignoring everyone] Eve: Hey, Asa, how was your day? Asa: [picks up an onion and bites into it, staring at Nova] Hell. Eve, watching this unfold: (whispers) Who hurt you?

Eve: What's worse than a heartbreak? Shade: Waking up in the morning and your phone wasn't charging. Branch: Waking up in the morning. Asa: Waking up.

Shade: Which one of you was going to tell me that tea tastes different if you put it in hot water?? Cloud: Y-you were putting it in cold water?? Sky: Shade. Answer the question, Shade. Shade: Yeah??? I thought people just put it in hot water to speed up the tea-ification process. didn't realize there was an actual reason. Shade: Plus you think I have the patience to boil water? Cloud: You don't have the patience to microwave water for 3 minutes?? Sky: Why are you putting it in the microwave to boil it? Cloud: Do you think I have the patience to boil water on the stove? Sky: It takes less than a minute. Cloud: Is your stovetop powered by the fucking sun??? Sky: How long does it take you to boil a cup of water on the stove? Cloud: Like seven minutes?? Nova: Just stick the mug on top of the stove on medium heat and it boils in like 2 minutes... less than that if you use a saucepan! Sky: Why are you putting the whole mug on the stove?? On medium heat?? Nova? Your stove is enchanted! Shade: Every single person here is a fucking lunatic. Branch: Do none of you own a fucking kettle?!

[during a group project] Branch: [does 99% of the work] Cloud: [has no idea what’s going on] Nova: [says they’re gonna help but does not] Sky: [disappears at the very beginning and doesn’t show up again until the very end]

Just a silly thing I felt like I had to make lol.

Ik you guys don't know half of these characters lol. But it's fun foreshadowing for later... and still funny 😉

(Idk should I @ the whole Faerie's Dawn list? I'mma just @ my "everything" taglist and anyone I know who's really into FD lol)

@honeybewrites @the-golden-comet @illarian-rambling @ashirisu @urnumber1star

@the-letterbox-archives @48lexr @aalinaaaaaa @thecomfywriter @an-indecisive-nerd

@seastarblue @rae-butter @teamarine777 @caffeinated-starsailor @oliolioxenfreewrites

@corinneglass

[ll7esxs]

Dual Minds, Single Heart / pt2

── .✦ part 1

summary: Logan finds himself grappling with an unfinished brainwashing process, his identity fractured and his loyalties uncertain. Though his mind is clouded, he remembers his father’s rigorous training—preparing him and his brother, David, to face any challenge life might throw at them. Now, Logan must summon that resilience to confront dangers far beyond their line of duty. Yet, the absence of his brother weighs heavily on him. He misses David deeply, a longing he can no longer deny, and questions if their father’s teachings truly equipped them for trials as harrowing and unpredictable as these.

warning: Violence, Emotional distress, Physical and psychological torture, Strong language, Themes of isolation and loss.

logan walker X (any) old friend teammate reader!

"The only way out is through." – Robert Frost

The room was dimly lit, the single overhead bulb flickering like a heartbeat. Logan sat against the cold, damp wall, his arms bound tightly behind him. The metallic scent of blood mingled with the mildew in the air. He stared at the floor, his face unreadable, his breathing steady despite the bruises blooming across his skin.

The fact played over in his mind, the kind of motivational line meant to inspire strength. But it didn’t fit—not for him, not now. That quote doesn’t match my situation, he thought, his lips curling faintly into a bitter smirk. Not when I don’t even know if I’m going to live through this.

He didn’t care, not really. Logan had faced worse. He’d stared death in the eye more times than he could count. Whatever was coming, whether it was more pain or the final curtain, it didn’t faze him. He was pale to it all, worn down by years of battles and sacrifices that had long since numbed him to fear.

But then... it stopped.

Logan stumbled as the Federation soldiers dragged him into the base, his boots scraping against the grated metal floor. The rain outside was a constant drumbeat, muffled now by the oppressive walls that surrounded him. The dim overhead lights flickered, casting eerie shadows that danced across the stained surfaces. His hands were tightly bound behind his back, the ropes digging into his bruised wrists, and every step sent a fresh jolt of pain through his battered body.

The soldiers said nothing as they hauled him through the labyrinthine corridors, their boots echoing ominously. The stench of the place hit him hard—oil, blood, and sweat mingled in a suffocating cocktail that clung to his senses. When they reached the cell, they didn’t bother with finesse. Logan was shoved inside, his knees hitting the cold, damp floor as the door slammed shut behind him.

For a moment, the only sound was the low hum of the base’s machinery and the faint patter of rain against the metal roof. Logan remained on the floor, his breaths shallow, the weight of his situation pressing down on him like a physical force. Slowly, he pushed himself up to sit against the wall, the chill of it seeping through his torn shirt.

The darkness in the cell was almost complete, broken only by the faint glow of a distant floodlight filtering through a small, grated window. Logan tilted his head back, closing his eyes as he tried to steel himself. But the memories came unbidden, flooding his mind like a wound reopening.

He saw his father, Elias, falling—the betrayal, the chaos, the finality of that moment etched into his soul. Then came Hesh’s voice, raw and desperate, calling for him during the firefight. “Logan! Where are you?!” The echoes of his brother’s voice mingled with the hum of the base, making it impossible to tell where memory ended and reality began.

Logan clenched his jaw, forcing the memories aside. He couldn’t afford to dwell on the past. Not here. Not now. If he let himself spiral, he’d be playing right into their hands. Instead, he focused on the present—the cold floor beneath him, the distant sound of rain, the subtle vibrations of the base. He needed to think, to plan.

Even in the suffocating darkness, Logan’s resolve burned. The Federation had taken everything from him, but they hadn’t broken him—not yet.

Later, Logan found himself strapped to a cold metal chair in a room that couldn’t have been more different from the cell. The harsh, sterile light buzzed overhead, illuminating every corner of the room. The air smelled of antiseptic, sharp and clinical, a stark contrast to the oil and blood of the base. Electrodes were affixed to his temples, their wires snaking toward a console that hummed ominously. Monitors nearby displayed his vitals, the steady beeping of his heartbeat almost too calm for the tension in the air.

Behind a reinforced glass window, Rorke stood with his arms crossed, his expression one of cold amusement. Beside him, a Federation doctor adjusted controls on a panel, his movements precise and detached.

The doctor turned to Rorke, his voice clinical and devoid of emotion. “We’ll start with the memory inhibitors. Gradual exposure to targeted stimuli will erode his sense of self, making him more malleable.”

Rorke nodded, his eyes never leaving Logan. “Good. Break him down piece by piece. I want him to see what it feels like to lose everything.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his breath steady despite the fear gnawing at the edges of his resolve. The machine whirred to life, the hum growing louder as the doctor began calibrating the electrodes. Logan’s muscles tensed, his body instinctively straining against the restraints, but there was no escape.

“Let’s begin,” the doctor said flatly.

Logan’s world exploded in a flash of light and pain, his mind assaulted by the machine's relentless grip. Images surged unbidden—memories twisted and fragmented, each one searing into him with agonizing precision. He bit down hard, refusing to scream, his mind clinging to one thought, one anchor: I am a Ghost. They won’t take that from me.

But even as he clung to that thought, he felt the edges of his identity fraying, piece by piece, under the watchful gaze of Rorke.

The sharp whine of the machine filled the room, a prelude to the next jolt of electricity. Logan’s muscles tensed involuntarily, his teeth grinding together as he braced for the inevitable. The first surge hit like a lightning strike, every nerve in his body igniting in searing agony. He jerked against the restraints, the straps digging into his arms and legs, holding him in place with cruel precision.

His body trembled uncontrollably, a fine tremor escalating into violent shaking. His lungs heaved, desperate for air that never seemed to be enough. Logan had endured gunfire, the crushing weight of explosions, the bone-deep exhaustion of war—but this was different. The pain wasn’t just physical; it burrowed deep, clawing at his very essence.

The shocks came again, and his body arched against the chair, his head snapping back as if trying to escape the torment. The ties held him firm, amplifying his suffering as his mind screamed for relief.

“Increase the intensity,” the doctor said from behind the glass, his voice calm, almost disinterested.

Rorke tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “Push him until he breaks.”

Logan’s resolve began to falter. His breathing turned ragged, his chest rising and falling like a man drowning. The next shock tore through him, and he couldn’t hold it in any longer. A raw, guttural scream erupted from his throat, filling the sterile room with its haunting echo. His voice was young, almost childlike in its desperation, a stark reminder of how human he truly was beneath the hardened exterior.

His head snapped back, sweat mixing with tears that streaked down his face. Every muscle in his body felt like it was tearing apart, his heart pounding so violently he feared it might burst. His mind begged for mercy, for the pain to stop, for someone—anyone—to end this.

his screams filled the room.

The machine’s relentless hum finally died, and with it, the searing agony that had consumed Logan’s body. His breaths came in shallow gasps, his chest rising and falling as if each intake of air were a monumental effort. His muscles twitched uncontrollably, echoes of the electrical torment still coursing through his system like phantom shocks. He couldn’t move, bound tightly to the chair, his body too exhausted to resist even if he could.

The doctor stepped back, jotting notes on a clipboard with practiced detachment. He barely glanced at Logan, his voice as clinical as ever. “If we continue, his body may reach a state of permanent damage. I recommend deferring to the next session.” He set the clipboard aside, adjusting his glasses before turning off the last of the equipment.

Behind the glass, Rorke nodded slowly, his expression calculating. “You know what needs to be done, Doctor.”

Without waiting for a response, Rorke pivoted on his heel and left, the heavy door hissing shut behind him. His boots echoed faintly down the corridor, the sound fading into the sterile silence of the room.

Logan was left alone. The bright, sterile lights flickered off, plunging him into suffocating darkness. The absence of light was almost worse than the pain—it pressed in on him, amplifying every ragged breath, every racing heartbeat. His head leaned back against the cold metal chair, his eyes slipping shut as he tried to steady himself. But even in the stillness, he couldn’t escape the sensation of the electrodes—the ghostly sting of electricity still dancing across his nerves, a cruel reminder of what he’d endured.

Hours passed. Or was it minutes? Time blurred in the isolation. The gnawing ache in his stomach reminded him he hadn’t eaten, and his parched throat burned for water. Deprivation gnawed at him as much as the pain, dragging his mind to the brink of collapse.

He breathed deeply, trying to center himself, but the darkness offered no reprieve. His thoughts spiraled, memories mixing with nightmares, fragments of his father and Hesh flashing before his eyes. A part of him wanted to let go, to sink into the void and escape it all. But the ember of resistance remained, small but persistent.

Logan sat motionless in the suffocating darkness, the only sound his shallow, rhythmic breathing. Hours—maybe days—had passed since the last session, but time felt meaningless. He should have been consumed by the pain, haunted by the torment he’d endured, yet... he wasn’t. He felt nothing.

The thought stirred in his mind, sluggish and distant. Is this how it’s supposed to feel?

His body was heavy, weighted by exhaustion, yet his mind felt strangely light, like a ship untethered and drifting. He hadn’t noticed the absence of pain at first, but now it struck him—there was no ache, no burning in his muscles, no lingering sting from the shocks. It was as though the agony had been scrubbed away, leaving behind... nothing.

Logan exhaled slowly, almost in relief, the sound echoing faintly in the empty room. He couldn’t even recall what the pain had felt like anymore. He remembered screaming, his body convulsing against the restraints, but the memory was detached, like watching someone else endure it

FLASHBACK-

Logan let his head tilt back, closing his eyes against the oppressive darkness. The emptiness within him was unbearable, so his mind sought refuge in memories—fragments of a life that felt more like someone else’s now. As if pulled by an unseen force, he found himself drifting back to a quieter time, a moment frozen in the haze of his fractured thoughts.

The room was warm, the faint hum of an old recorder filling the air. Logan sat slouched on a worn leather couch, one leg draped lazily over the armrest, his fingers idly tracing the stitching. Across from him, David sat upright, his posture stiff but his expression calm. A doctor, clipboard in hand, adjusted the recorder on the table between them, its red light blinking steadily.

“Alright, David,” the doctor began, his voice even and professional, “let’s start with your father. What was he like? How did he train you and your brother?”

David took a moment, his gaze lowering as he gathered his thoughts. Logan watched him from the corner of his eye, half-interested but content to let his brother do the talking. It wasn’t unusual—David had always been the voice of the two, the one who knew how to put things into words while Logan preferred action.

“I mean, I... I don't remember a time when he didn't have us training for something.” David finally said, his tone a mix of admiration and something heavier, harder to place. “You know, we'd go out in the woods, for days on end, finding our own shelter, our own water, our own weapons. Yeah, you get the idea? You heard of Hell Week? Yeah, this was more like Hell Year...”

The doctor scribbled something on his clipboard, glancing up briefly. “That sounds intense. Did it ever feel like too much?”

David gave a short sigh, shaking his head. “I don't mean to make it sound so bad. I mean, this is what we wanted. Dad always said we could quit at any time, and go grab some fast food, and pig out in front of the TV all night...”

Logan shifted slightly, leaning back against the couch’s worn cushions. He wasn’t really listening to the doctor or the questions. Instead, he focused on David—the way his brother’s hands gestured subtly as he spoke, the way his voice carried the weight of someone who’d lived through more than his years should allow. Logan had always looked up to David, though he rarely said it. David’s strength, his focus—it had always been a steady anchor.

"Dad had asked us what we'd learned."

As David continued talking, Logan felt a faint smile tug at his lips. He could almost hear their father’s gruff voice in his head, barking commands during drills, the sharp clap of his hands punctuating his words. Elias had been many things—tough, unyielding, sometimes too hard—but he’d never doubted his love for them.

""Always protect each other." We never forgot. Logan's got my back, and I got his."

David was saying now, his voice quieter. “He's my brother.” david smiled as he looked at logan.

The recorder clicked softly as the doctor leaned forward, The warmth of the memory began to warp, shifting into something twisted and unfamiliar. Logan had been focused on his father’s face—stern yet kind remembering the chatting and talks, his eyes sharp with resolve. But as he tried to hold onto the image, Elias’s features began to distort. His face glitched, lines fracturing like a shattered mirror, the details fading piece by piece until nothing was left but a hollow void.

Logan's heart began to race. “What?” he murmured aloud, his voice shaky, barely audible. The comforting scene in his mind dissolved further, like a painting smeared by an invisible hand. He scrambled to conjure his brother’s face, desperate for something familiar, something real.

David’s smile emerged, steady and reassuring for a moment. But then it, too, began to waver. The corners of his mouth faltered, his eyes dimming as his face pixelated, breaking apart like data corrupted on a screen. “No...” Logan whispered, his chest tightening as he reached out in his mind, as though he could stop it.

The room around him began to flicker, the walls rippling and fading into a chaotic mesh of shadows and static. Logan clenched his fists against the restraints, his breathing uneven. This isn’t real. This can’t be real. The chair beneath him felt solid, the cold press of the restraints biting into his skin—but the world was falling apart.

A sharp, glitching tone rang in his ears, low and relentless, like a broken machine sputtering to life. It grew louder, more jarring, until it felt like his skull was about to split. He gritted his teeth, shaking his head as if he could physically dislodge the noise.

“I know their faces! I know them!” he shouted into the darkness, his voice echoing back at him, warped and unfamiliar. But the images wouldn’t stay. Elias’s face was gone. David’s face was gone. The fragments of memory that had once been his anchor were now scattered into oblivion.

Logan felt a wave of nausea, his body trembling as the glitching reality closed in around him. The air felt thick, suffocating, as though he were being swallowed whole by the distortion. He gasped, his chest heaving, his mind reeling.

Wait...You don't remember what they look like? come on!...just make something up!

Logan's breathing quickened, each gasp sharp and uneven as he darted his eyes around the room. The shadows on the walls seemed to shift and pulse, alive with an unnatural rhythm that made his skin crawl. His head throbbed with a relentless ache, like the grinding gears of a machine that wouldn’t stop. The glitching tone reverberated through his skull, an endless loop that drowned out all coherent thought.

“No...” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the noise in his head. His vision blurred as he clenched his fists, trying to ground himself, but it was futile. The more he tried to focus, the more everything slipped away.

He tried to remember their faces again—his father’s, his brother’s—but they were like sand slipping through his fingers. The rest was gone, fading like a smudged photograph. The headlines of their names flickered in his mind like a dying neon sign—Elias Walker... David Walker...—their meanings intact but their images crumbling.

“Stop it...” he muttered desperately, his voice shaking. But even those words felt hollow. The memories that had once defined him were unraveling, slipping further and further into the void.

Logan clenched his teeth, his head pounding as if it would split open. He tried to fight the sensation, clawing at the frayed edges of his mind, but it was like wrestling smoke. The fear he hadn’t felt in years clawed its way to the surface, raw and suffocating.

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

The tension in the makeshift command center was palpable, the hum of equipment barely masking the oppressive silence. Hesh sat at the edge of the table, his leg bouncing with a restless energy that betrayed his exhaustion. His eyes were glued to the flickering screen of the rugged laptop in front of him, its glow casting sharp shadows on his face. Beside him, you leaned back in your chair, unsure of what to say or do. The weight of uncertainty hung heavy in the air.

You sat in silence, the weight of the empty room pressing in on you. The hum of the surroundings felt distant, a hollow noise that didn't fill the space. You had always known he wasn’t much of a talker, but that never mattered. The way he carried himself, the subtle way he would laugh or simply nod in understanding—it was enough. Those quiet moments, those shared exchanges, had become the rhythm of your life.

But now, with him gone, everything felt different. The silence wasn’t just the absence of words—it was a void that stretched on and on, deep and unrelenting. The isolation you felt wasn’t something you could simply ignore. It wasn’t like before, when he would be there, sometimes distant but never truly absent. You had always believed he’d be there, even if he didn’t always say much.

Now, as you sat there, you realized how much you had taken those moments for granted. His smile. His quiet observations. The times when he would let you into his world, if only for a moment. He had a way of making the world feel a little more bearable, even in silence. But now, you were left with the hollow ache of missing him, the kind of pain you never thought you'd feel.

The rain outside intensified, its rhythm punctuated by the sharp sound of boots on the metal flooring. The door creaked open, and Keegan stepped inside, his hood dripping water, his presence like a gust of cold wind. As always, his expression was unreadable, his movements calculated and deliberate. Close behind him was Kick, his demeanor as gruff and no-nonsense as ever. In his hands, he carried a tablet, the screen glowing faintly with satellite data.

Kick wasted no time, his tone clipped and direct. "Got something." He set the tablet down on the table, its surface slick with raindrops. "ISR just tagged movement in grid Charlie-Seven-Four. Thermal shows a convoy pulling into a fortified compound, twenty klicks south of here."

Hesh immediately leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized the data on the screen. His jaw tightened, and his knuckles whitened as he gripped the edge of the table. "A convoy?" you asked, your voice strained with barely contained urgency. "Could it be Federation?"

Keegan nodded, folding his arms across his chest. "Looks that way. The convoy’s too heavily guarded to be anything else. Might be moving high-value assets—or prisoners." His voice was calm, almost detached, but his words hit like a hammer.

Hesh shot to his feet, his chair scraping against the floor. "We need to move. Now."

Kick raised a hand, his sharp gaze pinning Hesh in place. "Hold up lieutenant . We don’t even know what’s inside."

The room fell silent for a moment, the rain outside the only sound. You glanced between the Ghosts, the weight of the decision pressing down on everyone. Each second felt like an eternity, the clock ticking louder in your mind.

Merrick, who had been a silent sentinel at the edge of the room, finally stepped forward. His presence commanded attention without effort. He leaned over the table, his sharp eyes scanning the map before he tapped a specific spot on it with a gloved finger.

“Standard Federation playbook,” he said, his voice calm but carrying an edge of determination. “Central detention facility. If Logan’s there, they’ll have him locked down tight. High-value prisoner.”

The room shifted subtly, everyone’s focus snapping to Merrick. For a man who had been so quiet, his words carried undeniable authority. The way he spoke wasn’t speculation—it was certainty. He wasn’t just hoping; he knew.

Hesh leaned over the table, his hands braced against its edge, his eyes locked on the map. His tone was calm but charged with resolve. “What’s the plan?” he asked simply, his gaze sharp and ready for anything.

Keegan stepped forward, placing the tablet on the table. He tapped a few controls, pulling up drone feeds and terrain overlays that flickered to life on the screen. The satellite view revealed dense jungle, the compound nestled in a natural fortress.

“Terrain’s rough,” Keegan began, his voice steady and deliberate. “Thick jungle on three sides, with a single access road to the north. They’ve got the advantage in defense, so we’ll need a stealth approach.” He looked up at the group, his expression unreadable as always. “I suggest a HALO insertion to avoid detection. Land two klicks out and move in on foot.”

Hesh nodded without hesitation. “Weapons loadout?” His voice carried the weight of urgency, though his posture remained controlled.

Keegan didn’t miss a beat. “Suppressed SCAR-H rifles for the strike team. Standard loadout for quiet work. One M82 Barrett for overwatch—north ridge has long sightlines, perfect for a sniper.” He zoomed in on the northern ridge, pointing to the high ground. “Drones will run ISR and provide electronic countermeasures. We jam their comms the second we breach.”

Merrick, still standing at the edge of the table, studied the plan in silence, then gave a curt nod. “Good. No noise, no distractions. In and out before they know what hit them.”

Kick folded his arms, his eyes on the tablet. “What about extraction?”

The room fell silent for a moment as the plan settled over them. The Ghosts were no strangers to high-stakes missions, but this one carried a heavier weight. It wasn’t just another target—it was one of their own.

Merrick’s voice was firm, slicing through the room’s tension like a blade. He pointed to the map with precision, his eyes never leaving the screen. “We take out the guard towers first.” His finger traced the perimeter of the compound. “Riley can sweep for patrols on the inside. until says Logan’s in the central building.” He paused, his gaze flicking to each of them, ensuring they understood. “Extraction point here—” he pointed to a clearing just outside the compound—“five klicks west. A Black Hawk will be on standby.”

The plan was simple, but the weight of what they were about to do wasn’t lost on anyone. Hesh stood still, his jaw clenched, eyes locked on the map. The sense of urgency in the air was undeniable, the clock ticking down faster with every passing second.

But then you spoke, your voice steady despite the undercurrent of tension. "And if it’s not Logan?"

The room seemed to freeze for a moment. Every Ghost in the room knew the risks. Logan could not be here—gone, broken, or worse. But it was a question no one dared to ask until now.

Merrick’s gaze hardened, his expression growing colder, more resolute. He didn’t flinch, didn’t look away from the map as he responded. "Then we burn it down and move to the next lead."

There was no hesitation in his voice, no room for doubt. The mission was clear: If Logan was there, they would find him. If not, they would leave nothing behind but ashes and rubble. The Ghosts never left a trace, and they never failed.

Hesh nodded sharply, as if the answer was all he needed to hear. The weight of the decision settled in the pit of his stomach, but there was no time for second-guessing. Logan was still out there, and they were getting him back.

Merrick glanced up, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment. "Gear up," he ordered, his voice a final, unwavering command. “We move in ten.”

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

part3

tagging: @guynamedaurel @k8lan06 @hardlysticks @bloodyquillink-blog @maumausie @fleshqounds @gabriel-rorke

[dullgecko]

Some headcanons for my favorite critter (affectionately because I love your headcanons) and my favorite critter-boys (Gorgug, Riz,)

(for a lot of these I quoted stuff from the handbooks)

Gorgug:

Players Handbook: Relentless Endurance. When you are reduced to 0 hit points but not killed outright, you can drop to 1 hit point instead. You can't use this feature again until you finish a long rest.

I think Gorgug is very stubborn, not in a way that frustrates him (expect for in the Porter battle), but more so “I am going to find a way around this if its the last thing I do.” And he always does. (Finding a way to talk to Zelda, using a ropes velocity to get across Leviathan, in the nightmare forest, and the battle with Porter.

Gorgug alway’s been determined even if he mentally wants to give up. His body won’t let him.

Half orcs also have a trait that makes them naturally intimidating

Players handbook: Menacing. You gain proficiency in the Intimidation skill.

Gorgug knows he can be intimidating, especially to smaller folk. But its never intentional, he always tries to make himself smaller, keep his voice down, anything to let people know that he’s not trying to scare them.

Riz:

Adventures with Muk: Dankwood Speak with Small Beasts. Through sounds nad gestures you can communicate simple ideas with Small of smaller beasts. Dankwood goblins love animals and often keep squirrels, badgers, rabbits, moles, woodpeckers, and other creatures as beloved pets.

Sometimes Riz will instictivally turn his head in the direction of a cats meow because it sounds uncomfortably familiar to a goblets (goblin kit? gups?) cry. Other times he swears that he heard Zayn’s rat or one Boggy say something. He tries to ignore it most of the times.

Monsters of the Multiverse: Fey Ancestry. You have advantage on saving throws you make to avoid or end the charmed condition on yourself.

Riz has a hard time picking up on people's flirting (nor does he welcome it). Weak charm spells, however, don’t do anything to him, sometimes he doesn't even notice someone’s trying to cast something on him.

(I am a critter. A creature if you will. Sadly one that is burdened by the need to pay taxes and work it's fuckin' bullshit :3)

Gorgug is VERY stuborn. So stuborn that he worked out how to combine being an artificer and a barbarian, two classes that should be on complete oposite ends of the spectrum. It also means that he sometimes wont give up on something even though he really should but he's working on it.

He's very aware that he's intimidating, his parents are smallfolk after all, as are all of his neighborus. Making himself appear less threatening is second nature to him. When he gets annoyed or mad at someone though he stops trying and will intentionally allow himself to be intimidating. Standing up straight, squaring his shoulders and not lowering his voice. The first time he did this in front of his friends (not directed at them) Riz fully failed his save and dove into a nearby bush to hide.

------

Riz likes animals and sometimes really misses having Edgar around (though Zayne does let Riz hang out with the rat when he's over at Mordred sometimes). He's contemplated getting a pet before but he really couldn't afford it, plus his apartment is small and he's so busy all the time that he feels like he wouldn't be able to give a normal animal the attention it deserves.

Even after the whole Kaliina thing he still really likes cats and would get one if he ever decided to get a pet, he feels like they almost speak the same language. He sometimes feeds the strays outside his apartment or chirps at ones he sees in the streets when he's out and about. He has never once failed at finding peoples missing pets, but he doesnt charge very much for the service.

As for the flirting thing? He didn't really experience it before his glow-up in junior year. Riz got back from the Night Yorb quest, dove head-first into basically every club in the school and suddenly has to deal with it on TOP of all the stress from studying and making sure his party members dont fail their classes. It makes him feel weird. Flattering, sure, but no thank you random underclassmen.

More than once he's thought he's been involved in a normal and pleaseant conversation then BAM, someone is asking him on a date or leaning in way too close or on a couple of occasions being WAY too bold and actually touching him (he'd pinned back his ears, bared his teeth, and hissed so viciously at those people that they'd actually flinched and let him go not expecting it - he generally tries to tone down his goblin-y-ness around non-party members but fully drops the mask when angry or startled).

[stripedstarsblueflags]

i feel so high school (au) pt 2. charlos

anyway here are some high school aus for my fav f1 rpf ships and an exploration of who knows how to ball, and who knows aristotle

(based on american high school setups cause of the song)

theatre kid!charles/stage crew!carlos: probably goes without saying but carlos knows how to ball, charles knows aristotle (though maybe not in the traditional sense). so here we’ll have carlos as the stereotypical jock, plays like four sports and is the team captain in all of them, lowkey giving frat boy energy and is honestly the only reason the school has won a game in the last four years. he’s probably known for being the only guy who’s both like a jacked up gym-is-life bro and also an utter gentleman, he’s always the one holding open doors and giving up his seat. and he’s usually pretty quiet/disengaged but if anyone disrespects a female teacher you know for a fact he’s death staring them into a puddle until it stops. the only fight he’s ever gotten into was with a guy who was harassing a girl at a dance and wouldn’t let her go when she tried to pull away.

charles is like the school heartbreaker, because he can never seem to make a relationship work no matter how many times he tries… and it seems like he’s a player and he’s got a different girl every week which isn’t entirely false but he also just doesn’t know how to say no to anyone which is the root of the problem. anyway so yeah i’m making charles a theatre kid, like one who can fit pretty much any role but he prefers the classics (he’s the kind of guy who knows a shakespeare quote for pretty much any situation). he usually gets cast as the love interest whether he wants the role or not but he does get a lot of stage time which he’s happy with. he’s way more comfortable on stage than when he’s actually with people, and his looks get him pretty far but in reality he’s just really awkward and kind of shy and gets flustered so easily.

carlos is on stage crew because he needed to fill the “arts/language” requirement to graduate and stage crew counted as performing arts even though it’s all behind the scenes. so he’s there almost every day, spending more and more time as the shows approach helping build sets and man the ropes and (insert lots of other cool and technical stage crew activities here). so even they know of each other this is the first time their paths really cross and they meet.

this is going to be the most cliche romance ever. charles having breathless pearl-clutching moments of gay panic when carlos gets paint all over his shirt and stops to take it off, or lifts giant sandbags or ladders or planks around like they don’t weigh anything. except ofc charles is way too shy to say anything or make any kind of initiative move so he just finds excuses to stay longer after rehearsals, maybe he starts helping paint the sets/designs cause he’s not bad at visual arts (emphasis on alternate in this alternative universe). bonus if he makes friends with one of the stage crew girls and all of the sudden he’s got a new handler (“look around twink! everything in this office is either dead or dying even the therapy dog killed itself”) who is constantly rolling her eyes at BOTH of their inability to take a hint

this would be the kind of hc that involves dressing rooms and unexpected moments behind curtains etc.

[lavender-at-heart]

Hihi! Could I request some headcannons of how Jedediah and Octavius would react to a new nightgaurd that is interested in both of them? Would they end up bickering even more or would they intentionally try and get along more? How open are they about their feelings towards the nightgaurd and how obvious to others is it how they feel? Do they have any special gestures they end up doing to try and show their personal affection? Things like that please :)👍❤️

Jᴇᴅ + Oᴄᴛᴏ ʜᴄ's

K first off I wanna say I'm so sorry for taking so long I have not checked my inbox in the longest time 🙏 hope it's not too late.

Warnings:

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

Being a night gaured in a magical museum is hard enough

Having two miniatures fight over you is ever harder

It starts off as a joke on your behalf

Jed and Octavious were some of the first friends you made at the museum, they offered to give you tours and introduce you to the other exhibits

Jed and Octo would be super shocked at the stark contrast between you and the previous gaurds

You were a lot younger, a lot prettier, a lot nicer, always making light jokes and suggestive comments

And that's where you went wrong (or right). Being from a modern generation its normal to make suggestive jokes and use crude language and humor.

Sometimes you'd make little comments like " Wow that hat makes you look so handsome Jed" or "my you really are a brave general Octavious"

And you think their not gonna become mega infatuated with you? Yeah right

Octavious immediately insists on being your personal gaurd when you make the rounds, sometimes siting on your shoulder, keeping watch, sometimes always a few feet ahead to spot any danger

He would swear oaths to protect you in Minervas name

He would quote Roman poetry and compare you to the sun and moon

Jedediah would give you miniature bouquets and collect other things for you. Oh Ahkmenrah isn't liking his ring anymore? Well it would look just great on your finger. He would offer to walk with you, keep you company.

He would sing you old country songs about true love and the good old days

Obviously the animosity between the two grows so much more becuase of you

Jed will tie Octavious up with rope so he can't go join you on your walk

Octavious will send his army to destroy the western exhibit

They'll fight all the time, trying to assassinate eachother becomes a nightly occurance

And obviously it makes you sad, the two people you get along with most end up hating eachother

They will desperately try and prove to you why the others better

"Jeez, I mean you don't want to be bothered by this dusty old schmuck." Jed is definitely more forward but has that southern charm yknow?

"I am appalled that you would even dare to befriend this ungrateful, insolent peasant. He speaks to you in such an inappropriate manner and does not give you the proper respect you deserve."

Eventually they bicker so so much that even Teddy has gotten annoyed by it, so you step in

You tell them that if they keep fighting you'll end up hating both of them and go find someone else to spend time with

So they reluctantly agree

They both patrol the halls with you

They both enjoy siting on your shoulders, mostly becuase then they can't see eachother

But to be honest forcing them to hang out with eachother makes them slowly build their own friendship

Like they might do a joint valentines day gift, you know, combine forces so you have a better experience. It's only to benefit you (totally not becoming friends)

You feel like you could tell them anything, and they would just sit there and listen. They find modern human life so so fascinating

And you ask them for stories too of course. You ask about cowboy life and the glory of Rome, you can tell they both (Octavious especially) love talking and telling stories about the glory days.

[mamirhodessxox]

On the pole

Cody Rhodes x Fem!wrestler

Desc: Before your match teamed with Cody against judgment day you get out an idea involving a stripper pole within the ring and decide to see where it goes.

Contents: Violence, Drinking, Foul language, Cody being dashing, Y/n serving cunt, Partying,

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) Votes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

It was Raw night in Vegas and you were more than excited to be teamed with your lover during a match with judgement day, it was hours before guests started coming in so you found some practice time to put a new idea to use with Rhea.

You were in the ring spinning around a pole and once rhea gets close enough you kicked her back in the chest and climbed your way onto ground and slip your ankle behind her legs to make her fall backwards, Cody soon walked in with a bottle of water, he climbed into the ring and leaned against the ropes and rhea & you prepared to fight, “Y/n sweetheart come drink some water before you overdo it.” You turn to look at him and smile walking over towards him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders kissing his cheek “thank you baby, how could I forget.” You hummed grabbing the water and taking a few sips while holding eye contact with him.

“How’s practice going for you ladies?” Rhea turned to her and shrugged with a smile “Y/N is natural at this, she kicks ass especially with this pole, Show ‘em your tricks.” You grin and set down your water and jump onto the pole spinning for a little bit and as rhea approaches you wrap your legs around the back of her neck and slam her into the ground before planting yourself on her back and tugging back her arm before looking at Cody grinning, he walked towards you and gave you a quick kiss “I have quite the fire crack huh?” You stand up and nod in response while Rhea stretches “She was made for the ring.”

Many hours later everyone had made their entrance but not you just yet, You watched through the TV Dom & rhea trying to talk but Cody’s fans wouldn’t necessarily let them but rhea kept going “Your little favorite Cody Rhodes is a WANNABE and a LOSER and that money in the bank? Domdoms gonna end i-“ before she could finish Cody made his entrance and stood in the ring but Dom scampered outside of the ropes while Rhea ranted about how Dom was dangerous. “Dom says that money in the bank..He’s gonna show you exactly how dangerous he is.”

Cody chuckled “Oh..Thank you for the education. Dom has proved a few cheap shots are rather dangerous, Dom your a smart guy i’m sure you heard this, go ahead be who you are say how you feel, because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.” He grinned “do you know who said that? The cat in the hat a CHILDREN’S book is am quoting a children’s because that’s what you ARE, you are a scared little fucking boy Dom.” Rhea stood in-front of Cody trying to urge a fight out of him as a referee was setting up a random stripper pole in the middle of the ring,

Rhea huffed and puffed and tried urging Cody into fighting her but he grinned before speaking “Rhea you know I have no intention on fighting you, we know this, but I have a substitute that can do it for me and I think you might know her VERY fucking well!” She quirked up an eyebrow and turned to the entrance that you were already walking away from and making your merry way to the ring and climbing through the ropes “What the hell is this?” Rhea shouted as Cody grabbed Dom dragging him out of the ring with him while you got straight to the point & body slammed rhea into the ground and quickly climbed up the pole and just as Rhea made her way towards your direction you wrapped your legs around her and slammed her back onto the ground while you straddled her back and tugged on her arms while your other hand squished her face into the ground.

Cody cheered you on from the side and slammed his hands against the rings floor until Rhea turned you over and sat in between your legs but you acted fast and slammed your head against hers and pummeled her onto ground before standing up which made the referee confirm you won tonight’s match. Cody jumped in and wrapped you up in his arms before walking you backstage. He made sure you were washed up while Rhea poured champagne into wine glasses and handed you one as you entered the conference room “You did awesome out there Y/N” she smiled as you thanked her and made your way to Cody who smiled widely and kissed your cheek

“Babygirl you were outstanding in that ring.” He smiled once more while you shrugged “Learned the best from the best huh?” He chuckled and gave you a kiss “y’know I have a surprise for you when we get back to the hotel” you raised an eyebrow and kissed his neck “Yeah? What’s that?” He grinned messing with your hair “Can’t tell, you’ll just have to find out.”

xtripleiiix’s Masterlist

🏷️ list: @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @agent-dessis-posts @adollonyourshelf @puppy-princ3ss @valkyrurr

[dragonmasterhiccup]

My question may be a bit ridiculous but I still want to ask based on your analysis,

In the HTTYD series, Hiccup was always called "Fishbone" because he was born prematurely, yes, he was like that in the first movie and he couldn't even lift a bucket of water, but in the next movies, the armor he wore was mostly made of iron pieces. In order to prevent hard falls and to soften the blows, the thickness of the iron should be thicker than normal, right? Technically, it would probably be like that. Okay, back to the question, damn.. I forgot the question I was going to ask. Okay wait, it takes physical effort to lift that much weight, but when we examined his costume, and even in the first scene of the movie, during the secret attack, we saw a soldier say to Hiccup "People don't have such fishbone legs!" (That's how it was in my language, I can't remember the English version, excuse me.) So.. is this physically possible???

To be honest, it's a question that has been on my mind for days before going to bed and has been keeping me awake for ridiculous reasons..

Not ridiculous at all! It's a great question!

I did a little research just to be sure, but it is entirely possible to be lean and strong, it does have to do with how you exercise though. It's like with gymnasts, they are incredibly strong, but also can be on the leaner side.

I also had to scroll back a bit on my blog to reference this post that also talks about Hiccup's strength.

I don't think it's ever explicitly stated when he started working in the forge with Gobber, but smithing does take a considerable amount of muscle, not to mention just holding on to Toothless while he flies. Using his flight suit as well must use a good amount of strength. Now, based on how quickly he made Toothless' tail, I'm guessing he had been in the forge a couple years at least. There are headcanons that he was sick a lot growing up, and that could also explain why he's so small for his age and not as strong in the first movie as he is a few years later in Race to the Edge and the other two films.

I like the fishbone callback! In English, I believe the line was "No human has legs that skinny!"

Do animated films play a little with the laws of physics? Definitely!

But, we do see many instances proving that Hiccup is stronger than he looks. I'll just name a few off the top of my head:

• Knocking Dagur off a cliff

• Knocking Toothless off a cliff

• Stopping a man twice his size wielding an axe with rope that Hiccup is holding taught (I literally had to rewind and make sure I had seen that right, but it's true! He does)

• Catching and carrying Astrid when she was dead weight easily

These examples are all from Race to the Edge, I'm sure there are some from the movies, but those are just what came to mind first.

And you're right, his armor definitely isn't light. Based on the color, it's probably not Gronckle iron since it has a specific coloring and a distinct pattern (though that would make more sense for his armor, as it's known to be lightweight and incredibly strong). The pieces do look thick, at least a 1/4-1/2 inch maybe (at least the shoulder pieces, but don't quote me on that), and wearing it as much as he does is bound to build up muscle.

It does appear that Hiccup takes more after Valka physically, and she is lean and definitely muscular as well. I'm no expert, but the fluidity in which she moves using her staff and while standing on Cloudjumper proves that she's strong while staying on the thinner side.

Since Hiccup is often underestimated due to his size and age, I like that this is another area where he takes people by surprise.

[ponds-of-ink]

MXES's eyes snapped open, and the hare, taking in his surroundings, found himself back to the place that he had left only a week ago.

There was a pain that he was met with--and as the seconds met with, it only seemed to be growing. It was all around him--feeling as if something was desperately clawing and tearing at the hare's very code...

And perhaps, that truly was the unfortunate truth of the situation. The coding...

MXES's eyes went wide as a pained groan splattered out. He tried to move forward, but it felt as if he were almost tied up by invisible, thick ropes.

A delighted chuckle alerted the hare of the fact that someone else was in the room. "You had gotten rather far back then, hadn't you? Hm..."

Glitchtrap stepped--or, really hopped--into the hare's view. His hands were clasped together, and his glowing pair of eyes were wide in what could have been excitement.

"You..." MXES slowly began, barely managing to shake his head around in a sluggish manner. "What... what do you think you are doing?"

Glitchtrap's ears twitched, catching a single hint of a distressed tone, and at first, his only response was a chuckle. It was followed by him snapping his fingers.

MXES grunted as he collapsed to the ground. He tried to move--he tried to get up--but the hare remained. Whatever was keeping MXES in place was still in place.

Glitchtrap turned to face the other way as MXES shuddered from the pain. His arms were folded. "Well, you did fail, I would have to say. It's certainly not something you would enjoy, my little poor soul..."

"But me?" Glitchtrap snorted, his grin growing. "I'm certainly going to enjoy having you by my side..."

MXES tried to speak, but only a pained cry escaped as his code continued to be ripped apart.

"Your very programming is being rewritten as we speak," Glitchtrap spun around, easily making his way over to MXES, and placing a hand underneath his chin. "It won't last too much longer..."

"With you by my side?" Little, brief giggles kept escaping from the rabbit. "I could do anything..."

Glitchtrap dropped his hand, stood back up, and began to walk away once more. "I would warn that it may hurt a 'little', but I believe you already-"

The door burst open, filling the both of them with surprise. Glitchtrap's head turned, and MXES's head remained staring on ahead.

"Why, this is certainly a shock..." Glitchtrap sarcastically hummed.

"Vanessa...?" The weakened hare murmured.

The woman was advancing quickly. In the moment, she ignored the familiar, digital rabbit--in favor of reaching the hare's side, and crouching down beside his weakened form.

"MXES..." He had never seen such a large frown on anyone before--and it only seemed to be growing. Slowly, one of her hands raised, being placed atop his head.

Then, Vanessa's head spun around, eyes meeting Glitchtrap's. "You can't do this!"

"Oh, I can't?" Glitchtrap tilted his head to the side. "Well, I believe I already am..."

Vanessa walked away from the hare, her eyes remaining on the smug rabbit. "Now. You need to stop this, now! I'll..."

"Do anything?" This time, Glitchtrap was the one to move closer, head tilting further. He chuckled.

The silence from Vanessa was enough.

"V-Vanessa-" MXES tried to start, panic quickly seeping through.

Glitchtrap's eyes darkened. "How about... one unfortunate soul for the other, Vanny?"

-

Kind of something that could technically lead into the reprise that you mentioned.

<Incorrect-FNaF-Quotes

I’m not normal about Glitchtrap’s body language lining up with how I first pictured him in the animatic. I don’t think I’m going to be normal about that detail. @incorrect-fnaf-quotes, I’m gonna need a minute to recover, then get back to rest of it—

[skepsiss]

It's Snowing in Hawkins; Winter Exchange - Batboys

Here is my fic for the BatBoys Winter Exchange! @batboysxprompts I hope whoever submitted this request is pleased with what I wrote. I was a little liberal with the suggestion, but I think I followed along with Eddie's competitive streak like they wanted. I hope you enjoy!

Synopsis: This is all fluff. Steve goes over to visit Eddie during a heavy snow in Hawkins and gets roped into helping him build a snow fort. Both of them have been inching toward a romance for months now, and Steve adores how innocent and young their relationship feels. It’s the start of something real tonight, and it makes Steve feel brilliantly happy. 

Season: Winter

Quote: The kids at the trailer park are having a snowman competition. Eddie joins in to one up them

Song: My Chemical Romance - "Every Snowflake is Different (just like you)"

AU/Place: Trailer park

Rating: T Words: 3,609 CW: Aggressive/degrading language toward the poor, slightly mature language/themes, mention of skin grafts/scaring, mention of mobility challenges from injuries

It’s snowing in Hawkins, and the fat, fluffy flakes caught on the windowpanes and the aspens of Mirkwood. Four children roam the deep fields of Forest Hills Trailer Park, gathering snow and shrieking their laughter skyward. The end of winter break is but a week away and time must be utilized well or be lost. A fifth joins them and the festivities begin. 

–

It’s late afternoon and the sun is already starting its slow descent over the little town of Hawkins. It gets dark, fast, in the wintertime in Indiana, and the chill becomes biting as the wind rolls off the Appalachian mountains. 

Steve had gotten used to this kind of cold; he had grown up in it after all, and despite the foot of snow he had still decided to trudge his way toward the trailer park. It wasn’t smart to drive in this kind of weather, and really, Steve lived fairly close to the park if he wasn’t being lazy. His proximity to ‘Mirkwood’ had been a black stain on his mind ever since Barb’s death–before that as well. His father had always hated the fact that their property backed up onto public land and just anyone could walk into their yard. That had been a point of contention in the Harrington household, even though Steve quietly noted that his father never went ahead and put up a fence. Likely, it had just been something for his father to complain about, and his intentions to erect a barrier between himself and ‘those varmints in their mobile homes’ had been all for show in the end.  

It was convenient for Steve now, though, since he could walk out his back door and to Eddie’s house in ten minutes flat—a bit more with all this snow.

Steve had never lived this close to a friend before, and it made impromptu visits that much easier. It also spoke to what lengths Steve was willing to go despite only being ‘friends’ with Eddie. 

They had started hanging out nearly a year ago now—just three more months, and it would be spring break again, even if Steve quietly dreaded the second coming of the holiday. Nothing had happened since March of ‘86 though, and Steve was finally starting to believe that the ‘other shoe’ wasn’t going to drop after all. He had been proven wrong before, though, if Halloween of ‘84 said anything about the pattern of these supernatural pains in the neck. 

He was optimistic though… if only because he was willing it.

After the trauma of spring break, it had been difficult (like it always was) to fall back into routines. He had watched Eddie struggle the most with that and while his injuries had been nothing to sniff at, once he was stitched up and given some blood so he wasn’t going to die from blood loss he was… fine. The wounds had scarred, of course, and Eddie had more scars than wounds because they had needed a skin graft for the larger bites. It was sort of difficult to stitch someone back together when their skin was minced like that—or at least that was what Dustin had crudely explained. 

Robin had asked him last week when he was going to stop flirting and actually do something about it. 

Eddie had struggled, and Steve had found it was easier to talk to Eddie than it had been to speak to most of the others, with all this Upside Down crap.

Robin was fantastic—he adored Robin, and he talked to her more than anyone, but he never felt like he was quite on her level when it came to compartmentalizing all the trauma. The kids were the same way; they were all so smart, and they could puzzle away or focus on their nerd hobbies to distract themselves from the abuse. Steve on the other hand… Steve’s hobbies allowed for far too much space to think, so it was hard to escape the memories.

Eddie, similarly, seemed unable to just quietly shut up and focus on something. It came at him like waves, and Steve had noticed that he had been distracting himself almost as much as Steve needed. Maybe he was lying to himself about that, though. Maybe he was just making up excuses to be around Eddie because he had found—after everything was said and done—that he really enjoyed spending time with the Freak. 

Steve hadn’t been such a dunce not to realize that he had feelings for Eddie, but his feelings felt so juvenile compared to how he usually reacted around women. It felt innocent and ephemeral in a way that reminded him of being thirteen. It was all small touches and little smiles, and Eddie seemed to fall into step with that behaviour easily. Eddie was older than him… but in a lot of ways he seemed less mature. That, in turn, made Steve want to slow everything down, too. 

He’d bob and Eddie would weave, and they’d sit and watch movies together without saying a word about the fact that Eddie’s feet were propped in Steve’s lap. Or they’d go for a swim and all they would do was smile when they touched hands on the pool edge.

It was just so goddamn innocent… and Steve found himself liking the slow roll of whatever this was. He wasn’t exactly convinced that Eddie liked him back that way—Eddie was a physical guy with everyone, but he didn’t seem to pause and consider his contact with everyone like he did with Steve.

Or so Steve liked to think.

Steve rounded on the trailer park and shivered slightly as he brought his shoulders up to his ears. The forest was less densely packed with snow than the open field of the trailer park, and he struggled a bit until he made it to a worn footpath through the snow. He started getting a view of the open expanse beyond the mobile homes, and he stuffed his hands into his pockets as he walked.

Steve heard the laughter before he saw them, but as he made his way toward Eddie’s trailer, he could see some of the kids traipsing through the snow and rolling snowballs. He paused and watched them—Max, Lucas, Mike, and Eleven—and smiled a bit at how carefree they looked.

Max of course was struggling to move through the snow, but she was making the best of it and was commanding Lucas to do the heavy lifting while she took frequent breaks. Comparatively, Mike was taking it slow and stopping to explain exactly how to pack and roll the snow properly to Eleven, instructing her on snowman building.

“You’re doing it all wrong, Wheeler!”

Steve paused as he walked up the first step of the Munson’s trailer, and then hesitated as he caught snippets of conversation.

“It’s not dry enough snow for that, you’ve got to squeeze with the body!”

Steve could recognize that diction anywhere, and he stepped to the side of the trailer to see Eddie pointing at Mike and Lucas. They all seemed to be having fun, but there was definitely an air of combativeness to the scene.

“What’re you guys up to?” Steve asked, feeling like a dad talking like that to all of them.

They all turned, and Steve couldn’t help but smile at the way Eddie beamed at him. 

“Good, good,” Eddie was saying before he said hello as he walked over to Steve.

Steve half waved as Lucas raised a hand to him, only for Max to scold him for losing momentum and letting the snowball he was rolling crack.

“You can help me out,” Eddie declared as he grabbed Steve by his forearm and started pulling him into the field.

“We’re building snowmen,” Eleven said happily, smiling at Steve as she helped Mike lift one of the large balls to place on top of another.

“Or at least we are,” Mike added as he looked toward the pile that Steve was currently being pulled toward.

“Shut your pie-hole, Wheeler. This’ll be a feat of engineering,” Eddie hissed, letting go of Steve and then handing him an empty bucket.

“Yeah, sure,” Max condescended, turning to focus on her own snowman.

Steve stood there a bit dumbfounded as Eddie picked up a small trowel and handed that over as well.

Eddie was doing that thing where he was so focused he forgot that not everyone thought the same way as him. Usually, Steve found it endearing—and he did right now as well—but he was equally confused and Eddie seemed to want him to be doing something.

“Uh…” Steve said quietly, looking at the bucket and the shovel he was now holding. “What am I doing with these?”

Eddie only took a moment to pause and look at him before continuing his work.

“I’m making a snow-dome, Steve,” Eddie said distractedly, “I need snow.”

“Igloo,” Lucas corrected as he rolled a large snowball past them.

“It’s not an igloo!” Eddie declared. “First of all, it’s not ice, and second of all, it isn’t fucking square-ass blocks. Snow-dome, you twat. Steve! I need snow.”

Steve flinched slightly, not really expecting to be put to work so quickly upon arrival. He moved, though, choosing a relatively large patch of snow to start digging.

“No—” Eddie chastised, trudging over to him and pointing farther west. “Grab the snow from out there. And I need you to pack it in, man. Like, really pack it. I’ll assemble, you can… dig or whatever.”

Steve sighed but did as he was told, he walked farther into the field and started to scoop and shovel the snow into the bucket before bringing it back over to Eddie.

“So… why are we doing this?” Steve asked as he was handed an empty bucket and shooed away.

“Said I couldn’t…” Eddie muttered, concentrating again as he plunked down the full bucket of snow and began making the base of his ‘snow-dome.’

“Before…” Eddie muttered, focusing. “It’s a contest, man.”

He wasn’t explaining much, and Steve didn’t press the subject as he diligently scooped up snow and brought it back to Eddie until he was sweating from the effort. Eventually, he was told to stop and was sent toward the woods to gather ‘tinder’ for Eddie’s elaborate plan to thatch his snow-dome so it was more structurally sound. 

Really, Steve didn’t get it or understand Eddie’s vision, but he didn’t protest. It was a touch annoying to be trudging around in the snow though when he had expected to walk over here and share cocoa and maybe curl up on the couch with Eddie. He had been much more snugly with the cold weather and had started commenting freely on how warm Steve was. It was true, but it also felt like an excuse so they could press up against each other ‘innocently.’

“You’re not even close to being done,” Max said as she pressed two rocks into the head of her snowman.

Max and Lucas plodded inside, and Steve watched as the trailer lights came on. 

Mike and Eleven were almost finished with their snowman as well, but Eleven seemed to be struggling with what she wanted to do with the face.

“You can’t rush perfection!” Eddie hollered as he began to leisurely weave the sticks Steve brought back into the ‘wall’ of his snow-dome.

“Perfection, sure,” Max said with a roll of her eyes. “Well, I’m freezing my ass off, so I’m going in. Come on, Lucas. We can judge the snowmen and the ‘snow-dome’ from the window.” 

Max’s mom must be working late again and though she would never complain, Steve knew that Max still struggled to do basic tasks around the house like prepping meals and cleaning. He could see Lucas readily putting a pot of water on the boil though and seeing to her needs. 

“So, what kind of contest is this?” Steve asked as he knelt in the snow with Eddie and began handing him sticks as he wove.

“Snowmen building,” Eddie answered simply, obviously concentrating.

“Well, this is the weirdest snowman I’ve ever seen,” Steve commented, looking up at the walls of Eddie’s snow-dome and wondering just how high he was planning to make it.

“No, well, obviously it’s not,” Eddie corrected, sounding annoyed that Steve didn’t understand. “The kids were building snowmen, and making a kind of contest about it, and I was going to show them up on that too, but… I don’t really remember how we got onto the topic, but one of those twerps said something about building a fort out of snow would be impossible, so it was like challenge accepted and boom, snow-dome.”

Steve listened quietly as he lazily handed over sticks to Eddie; well, at least he seemed energized by it and Steve didn’t really mind helping out, but it was starting to get dark already. How long were they going to be at this?

“We’re going in, Eddie,” Mike declared as he held Eleven’s hand and led her toward Max’s trailer. “You’re welcome to join when you finish.”

Mike seemed a bit awkward as he hovered, obviously not wanting to leave Eddie out here and wanting his attention. Eddie wasn’t even looking at him though and waved Mike off without a second thought.

“Yeah, later, Wheeler,” Eddie replied, waving over his shoulder at the teen.

“Bye, Steve,” Eleven said, waving at him. “I’m sure you can join too.”

Steve waved back lightly, smiling a bit forcefully at the teens. He appreciated the invite, but it felt a bit awkward to accept, plus, he had come over to spend time with Eddie.

“I need more snow,” Eddie declared, standing up as he started to pack the snow around the stick frame he had built. “We’re like… thatching this bitch. If we get it about—so—high, then we can start curving it inward to create the dome part. It’ll be more like a tapered cylinder, like a watch tower, but it’ll work.”

“Right,” Steve grunted as he stood up, grabbed the bucket again, and walked out into the snowy field. “I’ll be back then, Mr. Architect.”

Steve assisted diligently and didn’t complain as he brought back bucket after bucket full of snow and then stopped to help Eddie pack it all together. Eventually, Eddie was kneeling inside the dome and Steve was on the outside so they could sandwich the snow together and make it stick better.

It was nearly pitch black by the time they finished; it had stopped snowing a while ago, and the sky was clear enough to show the stars and the moon above. Their work was only being illuminated by the moon and the dim light coming from people’s trailers, but it left everything feeling rather private, and nostalgic.

“We gotta leave a hole at the top to let the air out,” Eddie declared, carefully packing the snow into place. Honestly, it looked like it was working and while Steve couldn’t say how long the walls would stay up, Eddie had succeeded in making a snow-dome. 

“Wanna check it out?” Eddie asked as he ducked down and looked at Steve through the small opening in the side of his dome.

“Uhh… sure,” Steve said, before crawling through the entrance. “Make room, wide-load.”

He was teasing of course because Eddie was ridiculously thin and all he really had to do was move over to the side to let Steve in.

“See?” Eddie indicated, gesturing around the dome, before laying on his back.

Steve mirrored Eddie’s position and lay beside him as he stared up at the ceiling of the dome.

“This better not fall on me,” Steve said lightly, having to adjust awkwardly and stick his feet out of the entrance in order to fit.

“Enjoy yourself for once, Harrington,” Eddie teased, before sighing and looking up through the hole in the roof.

It was pretty to look at, even if they only had a small window. You could make out the blackness of the sky and the little pinpricks of light dotting across the expanse, creating a sort of telescope effect.

Really, the only thing Steve could properly appreciate at the moment was being able to rest for the first time since he got here.

He glanced at Eddie, though, who was staring at the sky and breathing calmly—the little puffs of vapour floating away from his lips—a slight smile on his face. He looked peaceful—happy, too. Steve didn’t get to see Eddie pause all that often, and it was nice to see him enjoying the fruits of his labour.

“Thanks for helping out,” Eddie said idly, not looking away from the sky. He dropped his hand slowly and nudged up against the back of Steve’s hand.

“Yeah… of course,” Steve replied, finishing the motion and taking Eddie’s hand to hold. He returned his gaze to the roof, looking at the darkness and the moon that was slowly inching into view.

The two of them grew quietly again, and Steve could feel his sweat slowly starting to chill his body. They should head in soon, but it felt terribly romantic to be out here together now that they had finished Eddie’s snow-dome.

“Steve?” Eddie said suddenly, his voice quiet and distant sounding.

“Yeah, Eddie?” Steve asked, rolling his head to look at Eddie again. He was still staring up through the ceiling, but his smile had faded, and instead, he looked thoughtful as he breathed slowly. Even in the dull light, Steve could tell that his nose was red from the chill and snow had clumped in parts of his hair. He looked young… and there was a wanderlust to him that Steve envied. He liked looking at Eddie when he wasn’t moving around so frantically—the pause always made him look like an artist, and Steve found himself drawn to that. This contemplation that Steve didn’t think he had ever experienced for himself, but that he valued more than anything in others. 

“Do you like me?” Eddie asked, his tone quiet but lacking fear. They were still holding hands and Steve didn’t feel intimidated at all by answering him; they’d been inching toward this anyway, they just hadn’t said it out loud yet.

“… yeah,” Steve answered back, watching as Eddie slowly rolled his head so they were looking at one another.

Steve squeezed his hand and Eddie smiled, looking positively brilliant as he lay there.

“Me too,” Eddie sighed, which made Steve’s breath hitch slightly. It wasn’t always that Eddie looked so happy, and Steve felt softhearted being in the presence of Eddie’s bliss like this. 

Steve reached over slowly with his free hand and touched Eddie’s cheek, stroking along his jaw. It felt right to do this now, and Eddie seemed to have much the same idea as he rolled onto his side and let Steve guide him.

They both scanned each other’s expressions as Steve drew Eddie in closer, their noses brushing together first as Steve felt the sting of cold against his skin. Eddie seemed to be transfixed by him, and Steve could feel the world stopping around them as he sunk into the moment. It felt innocent and romantic, and Eddie seemed to hesitate not out of denial, but out of uncertainty. As if he wasn’t sure what to do at this point now that they were here.

Steve smiled lightly at that and closed the distance between them, kissing Eddie softly as he felt the other man draw in a breath. It was still cold out, but Steve felt a bloom of heat against his skin as their lips met and Steve guided them into a slow roll of their tongues.

At every junction, Eddie seemed to hesitate and then follow suit, marking his actions as inexperienced and timid. That felt like a paradox for Eddie, but Steve didn’t mind as he smiled into the contact and squeezed Eddie’s other hand with his.

They parted eventually, despite Steve staying tucked in close. He could hear Eddie breathing a bit hard as they continued to watch one another quietly.

“Was that…” Steve asked, swiping Eddie’s bangs out of his face. “Your first kiss?”

As if to answer him, Steve saw Eddie’s face turn beet red as he ducked down and away from Steve. He was hiding, and Steve felt his chest explode with adoration at the action.

“Shut up,” Eddie mumbled, hiding as he pressed his forehead against Steve’s chin.

Steve had to close his eyes from how adorable it was. How Eddie had rendered him positively smitten and made Steve’s whole body light up like a Christmas tree.

“Was it bad?” Eddie asked, sounding incredibly small as he continued to hide.

“No,” Steve sighed, sounding almost dreamy as he slid his hand to Eddie’s back and soothed him slightly. “No… just… gentle.”

Steve wasn’t sure how else to describe the contact, and he wouldn’t press Eddie on it any further, but judging from this very likely being Eddie’s first kiss… that probably also meant he was a virgin. A twenty-year-old metal head that was supposed to be the scourge of the devil himself… and Eddie had never so much as kissed someone before.

Steve pulled in a breath to steady himself, his entire body tingling with affection as he held Eddie and just let them lay there in the snow.

“Can we go in?” Eddie asked, still sounding shy. “I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

Steve chuckled and let go of Eddie, rolling onto his back again.

“Yeah, course,” he offered, sighing happily and stealing one last look at the moon before shifting onto his knees and crawling out of the snow fort. 

[novemberwasgrey]

Wenvier headcanons

Become official after two months of dating because, quoting Wednesday, "relationships are a source of unnecessary gossip that is none of people's business except our own". But because she's a good bestie, she allowed Enid to be the first to spread the news on her blog.

They aren't dating "just because". As artists, they actually understand each other on an intellectual level and love to debate. Their favorite subject is the Renaissance and they can talk about it for hours.

Museum and library dates.

They're both pretty jealous in the relationship. We already saw Xavier's reaction to Tyler but that's nothing next to Wednesday when some girl hits on Xavier. Most of the time, before Xavier can even politely states "I'm not interested, I already have a girlfriend", Wednesday will be right behind him glaring at the girl until she cowers in fear and flees.

On top of that, we know Wednesday's very competitive. Before they started dating, she'd heard Xavier tell Ajax that Bianca made the best brownies he's ever had when they were together. She got so worked up that she spent the entire night making brownies and just shoved them in his mouth without a word, the next day.

Other than English, Wednesday can speak Spanish, Italian and German. And she who claims to hate pet names, she can't help but call Xavier some in foreign languages. In fact, she used to call him pet names in Italian very often but what she didn't know was that Xavier could speak Italian (his mom was Italian) and understand everything she was saying. He played along for a while then one time, he just replied with a perfect accent. She was mortified. Xavier laughed for an hour until she got enough and pushed him in the fountain.

(Even then he was still cackling soaking wet)

Since then, they got into this thing where they speak Italian when they're in public and only want the other to understand.

One time, Xavier called her 'cara mia' like her dad to tease her. She didn't talk to him for the rest of the day. Eventually, the only pet names she grew to tolerate are 'Wens' (Enid's the one who started to call her that) and 'love'.

...is there a tiny possibility that they love to dirty talk in Italian? yup

Xavier challenged himself to make Wednesday laugh as much as possible. He'd come up with lame jokes that never work and annoy her. Until this one time he tripped over his own feet and he heard her giggle. "Are you serious, me making a fool of myself is what makes it for you?!" "Exactly."

I established that several times already but obviously, Xavier loves Wednesday's family and they love him just as much. His dad and him were never close especially since his mom's passing so he's so touched by how quick the Addams make him feel like one of their own. Morticia and Gomez just love how much he cares for their little viper.

Grandmama Addams was thrilled to see her best friend's godson after years.

and oh, Pugsley and Xavier are thick as thieves, like seriously they love each other.

...which annoys Wednesday to no end bc now she can't even have a minute alone with her boyfriend without her brother barging in.

(On another note, Pugsley and Eugene get along great btw).

Xavier and Enid literally act like siblings and that's the cutest thing ever. Because they're dating each other's bff, they made it their mission to make Wednesday and Ajax get along. These two were the type to be awkward around each other (well, mostly Ajax around Wednesday, she used to give him the creeps). Eventually, they were able to bond on one undeniable fact: anyone who dares to attack Enid and Xavier will have to deal with them.

Someone *talking shit about Xavier and Enid*

Wednesday:

Ajax:

Wednesday: I'll get the rope, you get the shovel.

Ajax: Better. I will take my beanie off and you smash their stone statue in pieces.

Wednesday: Impressive. I'm in.

Xavier's the only one allowed to touch Wednesday's hair. I support @foolinlove99 headcanon that she lets him braid it.

Wednesday loves his hair. Really much. Xavier realized it at some point as she always pets it unconsciously or tugs on it during sex.

Xavier's love languages are physical touch and gift giving, Wednesday's is acts of service.

People like to say Xavier fell first and Wednesday fell harder, but that's not even true because he falls for her more and more everyday and so does she and basically their relationship is a competition of who loves the other more. I'm sure they'd fight about it.

Xavier Thorpe centric headcanons here

[whocaresifwearecrazy]

My Oh My, What Did I Do? Doodle Bop Incorrect Quotes...Part 2?!

I couldn't resist. Doing a sequel was inevitable

Now, let's get to it

DeeDee: Pick a card, any card. Moe: Fine. DeeDee: Wait, that's my credit card! Moe: You said any card.

~~~

DeeDee: I can't believe there's a cat somewhere in my house. Amazing feeling. Love cats. And he's here, in my house! Somewhere! And I may encounter him! What a treat. Mudge: *sitting on the vanity*

~~~

Rooney: I’ll be famous one day, but for now I’m stuck in this house with a bunch of morons.

~~~

Moe: We got a free day now. What do you wanna do? Eat? Sleep? Nap? Snack?

~~~

Moe: I don’t go looking for trouble. Trouble usually finds me first.

~~~

Moe: I wasn't hurt that badly. The doctor said all my bleeding was internal, that's where the blood's supposed to be! Deedee: *facepalm* Rooney: ...

~~~

Rooney: I keep a picture of all of us in my guitar case. Whenever I face difficulties, I take it out and stare at the picture. Deedee and Moe: Awwww- Rooney: And I tell myself "If I can deal with my siblings, then I can deal with anything." DeeDee and Moe: Oh.

~~~

*Don't Pull the Rope*

Moe: *dangling from a rope over a pit of fire* Remember when I said I’d tell you when we’re in too deep? DeeDee: Yes? Moe: We’re in too deep. Rooney: *facepalm*

~~~

Rooney: How would you like your coffee? DeeDee: As dark as my soul. Rooney: Got it, one cup of milk coming right up!

~~~

Rooney: *on the phone* Hey Dee, do you know my blood type? DeeDee: Of course, it's B-. Rooney: Oh, I guessed wrong. Excuse me, nurse-!

~~~

*Brotherly Love*

Moe, laying in bed: Get out of my room. Rooney, standing just outside of the door frame: I’m not in your room.

~~~

Rooney: *speaking Spanish* Moe: I know, I know. DeeDee: You speak Spanish? Moe: No. I just know the phrase, 'this is all your fault' in every language Rooney speaks.

~~~

DeeDee, shooing Rooney away: Can you go be depressed over there? You’re bumming out my whole area.

~~~

Jazzmin: *asks what's going on* Rooney: Today, Moe said a swear word, so DeeDee said that she was going to wash Moe's mouth out with soap. Moe replied, “It’s okay, I like the taste of soap”. Turns out, he's been putting soap on their lips to blow bubbles.

~~~

Moe: We’re playing Scrabble. It’s a nightmare. DeeDee: Scrabble? Scrabble’s great. Moe: Not when you’re playing with Rooney, it’s not. He puts words like “ephemeral” and I put “dog.”

~~~

Moe & Rooney:*Playing video games* DeeDee: You guys woke up at 5:30 in the morning just to play games? Moe: *silence* Rooney: *silence* DeeDee, finally figuring it out: ...You two never went to sleep, did you? Moe & Rooney, in shame: Yeah...

~~~

DeeDee: How did you even get in here? Moe: Rooney's window! Or, as I like to call it, "Moe's door"! Rooney: I’m closing the window.

[olympeline]

Most of my FrUK headcanons are fluffy and sweet but you could get some really good drama out of the Norman invasion of England. Make it nice and angsty if we go with the - ahem - “conquering of the vital regions” headcanon for when a nation-person is subjugated by another. What they do to seal the deal. You know what I mean 👉👌

So it’s the end of the Harrowing of the North and you have a beaten down England on the ropes. Meaning by extension Arthur is too. Weak, starving, wounded, and unable to defend himself against Francis. Who’s there to claim what’s his by the law of their kind once England’s last holdout rebels surrender. I imagine nation-people would have different standards towards the act than normal humans, even without the timeline being nearly a millennium ago. Since it’s something that has to happen. Still a terrifying and traumatic experience but the perpetrator wouldn’t be considered a monster for doing it. More akin to a soldier killing an enemy combatant vs. a civilian murder case: still bad but one is way worse

Anyway, Francis corners him and Arthur tries to act brave. Still a young nation (only recently matured into his adult body) this has never happened to him before. He’s only heard stories, horror stories, from nations who came before. Francis is older, stronger, growing in power faster than Arthur himself. Francis’s conquerer killed Arthur’s king and ravaged his lands. Arthur expects the personification of France to be just as cruel and, underneath his brave face, he’s terrified.

But this is where Francis surprises him. If you’ve seen Game of Thrones think of Daenerys’s wedding night with Khal Drogo. Honestly this is where the whole idea for this headcanon came from. Arthur and Francis might even have had the same language barrier. Warrior Francis only a little less terrifying than Drogo - Arthur is still green after all - and showing a side just as restrained and gentle. Because Francis is a character who always struck me as capable of great kindness when needed. Don’t get me wrong, that doesn’t make him weak or a pushover or incapable of great cruelty too. Just that he has a big heart as part of his complexity. He saw his younger neighbour’s terror and it moved him. Made him want to show Arthur the small mercy he was able.

“No?” Francis would ask - or maybe “Non?” - once, twice, three times. As many times as needed until Arthur was ready and replied with a “Yes.” They both know it’s meaningless consent. France is the victor and will have England now no matter what. But Francis’s kindness and respect in creating the illusion for Arthur to cling on to at the worst moment meant a hell of a lot. Letting him keep his dignity, his pride, even lying blood splattered in the dirt with his conquerer sinking down on top of him.

Years later, after England gained its freedom, Arthur would return the favour during the Hundred Years War. Francis is just as grateful for the mercy. They’re still rivals and enemies but these acts plant a seed which would eventually blossom into a real relationship.

“Fair flowers can grow from bitter earth.” I can’t remember where that quote comes from but it sums all this up pretty well

[corawithfanfiction]

I Should've Kissed You Longer I Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Episode 3

my materialist

episode 2 - episode 4

summary: Steve Rogers is awake, but things are not going as Y/N expected

warnings: loss, denial, uncertainty of death, amnesia, loss of memory, non-contact, obscurity, mourning, unconsciousness. Country agendas. bad language about countries, au wars between countries. The countries and wars mentioned in the story are fictional - they are not indicative of hatred for any nation.

Author Note: I know that a few chapters are short, but the first chapters are a bit short as I need to cut the story in logical places as the chapters will get longer and longer. According to the current plans, our story will be around 27-28 chapters, enjoy your reading.

(1070 words)

Ask for permission before quoting or translating!

Requests are open!

28 June, Friday

Before noon

It seems I no longer have the right to call you darling. That right has been ripped away from me.

You woke up. It was strange, so much so that my brain erased most of the details, I must have been in some kind of shock.

Natasha's and Tony's efforts paid off, I went home and took a quick shower, ate some crackers and brushed my teeth. The room you were in was getting hotter and hotter, and if you would remember me in this state of disrepair, you would forget me. Besides, I didn't want your eyes to bleed.

When I came back without wasting time, they took you to a normal room. It must be because they guessed that I would make a mess when I couldn't find you where I left you, Bucky was waiting for me at the door. He brought me to you, where I was, outside your room. I came here about half an hour ago, it comes to life in front of my eyes as I look at your room. I went inside with my hands and feet trembling. They had a yellowish - nutritionally supplemented- serum attached to his arm, there was a relaxing heat in the room, the thought of being able to curle and sleep like a cat next to him at all time seemed to me as a very good sek. In a room of the headquarters with light, with large windows overlooking the forest, you were lying between the cliffs, and everything was exactly as I remembered, except for a thin squeak on your face. Didn't you think the famous place I was waiting for you at your door was any hospital, did you?

He has a better equipment than the hospital, I wish his doctors were also smart.

Then, I sat down on your press and you woke up very soon.

It was poetic, it was really more than poetic. The first moment I saw your eyes again, I realized again that I didn't make the middle stand up so much, that whatever I do for you will be better. If I couldn't see these eyes again, I wouldn't be any different from an astronaut with an umbilical cord broken in space, believe me. I would stay in the void.

Your eyes found me, I felt like when I first saw you.

It's like a few volts of electricity was given, but that feeling has passed the speed.

I desperately waited for you to say something and react for a few seconds.

You didn't do anything. The moment I opened my mouth to say something, you froze to Bucky and you smiled, you opened your arms to her and you thought

Tony came, right after. He told you a few stunny things and you hugged her too, Natasha or. There was no one else coming and going yet, Tony turned his eyes at me after asking you a few unnecessary questions. I didn't know what my hundert expression was like, but it must have told everything.

He was sad and sadness flowing from his eyes. He asked you a question that my name and remembering was mentioned. Your face was the same.

Bucky also said a few things, I didn't listen. When he finally opened his lips to say something, the axis of the dúnyar seemed to have changed. "I've never seen this woman before."

At that moment, I was in the void that broke the rope. I could only look at you for a few seconds, I examined your face. I knew this strange expression, as if it was a lie. But why? Why would you lie to me? If I made you angry and that's why you were doing it to hurt me, to understand your value, I didn't do anything to make you angry before I fell.

Why would you do this?

So you really don't remember me.

So I'm just anyone in your eyes. Maybe you felt the guilt that you saw that I was sad and that you would upset me even more.

Yes, it makes more sense that way, unfortunately. God must have an exam, your

The fact that I have a problem in my 'expertise' field and I can't do anything…

You're lying, I thought to myself. I was tilted to my side, why?

The fact that everyone in the room suddenly shut up and turned to me clearly stated that I didn't really think about those words, I realized this much later.

At that moment, I was just focused on you and resisting not to cry. You almost looked at me in the terror. Your lips were paved, maybe you thought what does this think he is, who is he who can say you are lying to me.

I know your lies, Steve. Your facial expression had the same expression as the lies you told when you pretended to forget an important day or when you were about to make a small surprise. The noble and the biggest difference was the smile on his face, other than that it was exactly the same, and another difference, unlike the previous ones, I didn't like this lie at all.

Tony said a few things and distracted the subject and drew your attention to himself again. The sound of my heart breaking melt in my ears. I just wanted to cry at the look just now. It seems that I made everything up just like that. Still, after stopping for a while and watching you so that it is not understood that it is for this reason - whenever I am hurt or sad about something, I leave the environment after the subject has completely changed and I don't know why I just did this - got up and left.

We are in front of a line, darling, a very thin line; even if we cross, we will not be able to notice, even if we do, we will not be able to take it back.

This time we are on the finish line.

Y/N

TAG LIST:

@nekoannie-chan@delilah-heythere-blog@delilah-hey@calimoi@nanamiswh0r3@shamrockqueen@afrapic@bstrgar@schrutepark13@shadyloveobject@tfandtws@katmock@veryempathatic@temmxi@bobgirllll@just-a-hungry-reader@svechniswift@biancsthings@thesorcererstale@dxbrevgrey@smallmarvel@chrisevansbuddy @caplanreblogsfics @slavicangelmuah @nekoannie-chan

[crplpunkklavier]

got messaged by a cis guy on a kink app couple months ago, dude was straight-ish but in the process of rethinking the label bc he'd just figured out that he's really into trans bodies. specifically if they're hairy. so needless to say he's crazy desperate to fuck me. and it's cool, he's good about it, u know, he's clearly done his own research and doesn't ask me anything invasive, he's respectful he watches his language he lets me speak. i go out of my way to make clear that the reason im on the kink app is that i like bdsm. he's like yeah yeah yeah that's so hot. says he's been wanting to try bottoming. i let the non sequitur slide. he's a newbie. sure ill top him. he buys me coffee. he tries to bone down after that first meeting. i ask him for an assessment of what all he wants to try for our first time. he gets all quiet. texts a day later to say that maybe he'd prefer to start with vanilla because, translated quote, "maybe i am shy." i get it. dude i do. but i gotta look out for myself too and im not gonna be having sex i don't enjoy just to be nice to a random guy. so i text back that thats understandable but that he also has to understand that im gonna be bored and i don't wanna be bored. how about basic impact or bondage. nothing high maintenance. i can bring the material i can take charge ive been missing domming anyway. he goes no no no ill do it ill tie you up. i tell him alright ill bring you a selection of ropes, you can do simple knots, i have scissors, and if you have any questions please reach out.

never heard from him again.

men are fighting the saddest battles out there. send post.