#yeah I drew it on the fly mostly

[itzphynix]

My'eah, some Sonic stuff I drew, playing with a different style!

Last 3 pages feature Terios, & the last page features Violet -- both are characters co-adored by @carnation-damnation !

[thelov3lybookworm]

Lose your temper

Summary: Only loses his temper for her.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 805

Warnings: azzie being a protective pookie 🥹

A/n: hello hello i come bearing gifts after the tiny hiatus. might get my laptop back soon so dont you worry ill be back soon. ive mostly been focused on writing my wattpad books but though you all deserved a lil treat too so here i am 😌

also ps (edited) this was inspired by someones reddit post about having the sweetest father who threatened to hand a man by his intestines if they did not leave his wife alone and i think thats precious 🥺

HAVE FUN YALL

ENJOYYYY🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Being the daughter of the spymaster, it almost made Hazel seem like some sort of elite fae that some feared while others pitied. The people that feared her, Hazel could understand the place they were coming from. But it was the other group that befuddled Hazel.

Why would they pity her? Did they think her father was an abuser of some kind?

Of course, he towered over a lot of people, and his physique made him known as a ruthless warrior. And yeah, maybe he also did have the most spectacular reputation to go with it, but it did not warrant people thinking he bullied Hazel too.

Or maybe it did, but Hazel could not bring herself to understand that part.

Azriel had always been the most gentle, calm and loving parent anyone could ever ask for. He was the furthest thing from mean. Hazel had never seen him get angry or raise his voice.

And it made Hazel wonder. What would be the situation in which Azriel raised his voice?

Hazel knew the one person Azriel loved the most was Y/n. He could act all he wanted when he wanted to irk Y/n that Hazel came first for him, but Hazel knew that if it came to it, he would sacrifice the whole world, her and then himself to please his wife.

And so when she asked her father, his answer came as no surprise.

"Dad, will I ever see you lose your temper?"

He laughed, his eyes not leaving the vegetables he stirred in the pan for lunch. "Maybe if someone bullies your mother, you just might."

Hazel smiled, nodding. She turned to look outside the window that faced their porch, looking at all the people that passed. Their house was in one of the quietest areas of Velaris, and so only sparse groups of people lingered around, mostly kids and housewives.

As she continued pondering his answer, her eyes fell on her mother returning from the market nearby. Hazel grinned, beginning to turn to her father to tease him about it, but then she looked closer at Y/n.

She looked disturbed, brows furrowed and lips pursed.

"Dad?"

Azriel hummed, glancing at Hazel.

"Does mom look worried to you?"

Hazel heard him draw closer, peering over her shoulder. "Mom?"

"Yeah, look."

Hazel glanced at Azriel, watching as his brows drew together and his jaw hardened.

"A male’s following her."

Hazel blinked, then turned to look. Sure enough, she saw a man come into view, jeering at Y/n’s back. Y/n was almost to the gate that opened into their lawn, and she kept glancing back at the man.

"He’s dead if he doesn’t leave."

Hazel would have smiled, but the seriousness in her father’s voice told her he wasn’t jesting.

The two watched as Y/n tried to shut the gate behind her, but the man’s foot wedged inside as he smirked triumphantly at Y/n.

And the presence of Azriel was gone from behind Hazel.

The door opened, and Hazel turned in time to see Azriel practically fly out the door, Truthteller clutched in his hand.

Oh, someone’s dying today.

"Back off!" Hazel hurried over to the door to peer out at the scene, eyes wide as her father called out.

The man’s face crumpled in fear, and he took a step back from Y/n, who turned to look at her husband. If Hazel had to be honest, it was quite funny watching one of the most feared males in all of prythian stand in front of his house with a red shirt and a stained apron on, threatening a male in broad daylight without a care.

"I swear to the mother if I see you ever again, you are going to be buried before you can even blink." Azriel growled, brandishing his dagger.

"For-forgive me, sir. I did not know she was yours-"

"And that should not matter. Don’t let me catch you harassing another female again, or-"

But that man was gone.

Azriel turned to Y/n, smiling. "Are you alright?"

Y/n grinned at him. "I am."

Azriel effortlessly grabbed the bags from his wife’s hands and shifted them to one of his, then wrapped the other one around her waist.

"Did he do something?"

Y/n shook her head, laughing. "You almost killed him before he could."

Azriel grinned, smug. "Glad to hear that."

He led his wife inside the house, casting a searching look outside before closing the door. Y/n shot Hazel an exasperated smile behind his back, making her giggle.

Hazel had always wished to have a love like her parents, but each day, she wondered if she would rather stay by herself.

Because there was no way there was someone out there who loved as Azriel loved Y/n.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[backwardsbread]

Hazbin Hotel Characters:

~Marriage proposals~

Warnings‼️: genderneutral!reader, established relationship, characterxreader, lots of fluff, Valentino existing, mentions of cannibals/cannibalism, possessive behavior, pet names used, mentions of divorce, some swearing.

A/N: How would the Hazbin hotel characters propose! I might do a vise versa, where reader proposes. But this one is the characters proposing to YOU. Enjoy~!

This is pretty long- I don’t know how to find word count, but if anyone wants more, drop a request :))

?Semi proofread?

Lucifer:

This man is a NERVOUS WRECK.

When he realizes he wants to marry you, he lowkey panics. Starts acting like you guys just now started dating.

He’s super anxious, trying to impress you, and prove that he’s good enough for you.

(Whether he’s trying to prove that to you, or himself, is up for debate.)

The two of you met on a whim. You didn’t really know it was the king of hell you were talking to when you first met.

How could this be the king?? He was so goofy. His playful demeanor immediately drew you in.

With even learning about how Lucifer was, it didn’t stop those fuzzy feelings towards him that bubbled in your chest.

It took him a long time to even get into a relationship with you, due to him being caught up in his past with Lillith.

But overtime, your affection is what gets him through the tough days.

He gets all flustered and embarrassed at your sweet gestures, trying to hide the fact that he’s realizing he wants you to always only be his.

As we know, he had a previous marriage and that commitment failed him before. He had a right to feel nervous of the subject that once bruised his soul.

But in his heart, he truly knows this is what he wants. He wants to spend his eternity with you if you allowed him to.

When the thought has finally settled, and he knows he’s ready to try marriage again, it doesn’t settle his nerves.

This has to be PERFECT-

He needs the perfect ring, the perfect setting, the perfect outfit. All of which he had easy access to, he is the king afterall.

Yet, nothing seems to be perfect enough. Nothing is enough, nothing he can think of matches how strong his feelings are for you.

Once he thinks he’s decided on what will be perfect, he ditches the idea to try and come up with something better.

He consults Charlie on this issue a lot. Including her in this is very important to him. He makes sure she’s comfortable with the idea of him being married to someone who wasn’t her mother.

Charlie is a bit put off by the idea, it’s strange to think about. She never thought of her father getting remarried, but the thought doesn’t necessary upset her. She’s more worried about history repeating itself.

Overall, she wants her father to be happy, and helps him prepare for the proposal in any way she can.

(Mostly moral support because this guy is in emotional turmoil over this.)

He’s in a constant inbetween of if this was the right thing to do. Was it too soon in your guys relationship? Was it too soon after his divorce? Would you even want to spend the rest of your damnation with the one who started it all?

With heavy encouragement and reassurance from Charlie, he finally has the guts to ask you the big question.

But….. when he takes you out on the date where he meant to propose…

He chickens out. (Or ducks out haha)

“It is quite beautiful tonight.. you know I love you, right?……. Good! Yeah-! U-Uh-.. oh my golly! Look at the time! How that darn old thing does fly-Haha! W-We should head home!- boy am I tired-!”

Rinse and repeat this process a handful of times.

You do start to get a bit skeptical of your partners behavior. You guys had been going on extremely fancy dates at least once a week.

And while you had no complaints on spending time with Lucifer, you did notice his strange behavior.

The way his mood would incline before your guys’ date, and then suddenly decline when it was over. Then having to take the rest of the week to heal his pride.

It was just a big rollercoaster of emotions. You were starting to worry you were the cause of his stress.

(I mean. Technically you were)

During one of his many attempts in asking you, he had already internally given up when he stumbled over his words in the middle of dinner.

Your date was coming to a close, and like clockwork, Lucifer’s chipper mood deteriorated.

His shoulders slumped, he was pouty, and dragging his feet on the way back to the castle.

Before the two of you can enter, you grab Lucifer’s hand, stopping him. He gives you a confused look, posture straightening to look at you.

You give him small pecks all over his face, in hopes to cheer him up from whatever was troubling him.

Your actions have the affect you were hoping for, as he laughs and steals your lips into his own, a wide smile on his face as he rests his hands on your waist.

His nerves seemed to dissipate as he felt an overwhelming sense of security and love for you.

His body was moving before his mind could keep up. The moment just felt right.

He pulls away from your shared embrace, reaching into his pocket, and getting down on one knee. He opens the ring box, revealing the glimmering jewelry within it.

You look at him in shock and he returns the same look, surprised at his own actions. Well there was no backing out of it now- (saY SOMETHING LUCIFER-)

It takes him a few seconds to recover from the shock and he’s tempted to just pretend to tie his shoe. But you knew his intentions and watched the nerves wrack their way up his body once again.

Before he can even speak, give a speech he had rehearsed probably a hundred times in front of his mirror, you say yes.

And the relief that washes over this man— the weight that lifted off his shoulders in that moment— felt amazing.

You bend down with him, smiling ear to ear and chuckling as you realized this is why he was so worked up the past couple months.

Tears fill Lucifer’s eyes as he slides the piece of jewelry onto your ring finger.

You kiss away the tears that slip down his face and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a hug.

His tattered heart feeling stitched back together that day.

Alastor:

We all know Alastor isn’t the biggest on romance.

He’s a true gentleman, of course, but public displays of affection and intimate relationships weren’t his cup of tea.

The two of you had know each other for years in the afterlife, yet it was only recently you had put a label on your relationship.

Falling for you was never part of his plan.

He first saw you as an prey, only a possible soul he could claim for his ongoing collection.

But your sickening sweetness unfortunately grew on him over time. He once wanted to take advantage of it, but he became too fond of you to corrupt it.

You moved from his prey to his acquaintance.

You lived in cannibal town where he would frequently visit.

You join the gossip sessions with him and Rosie, indulging in their banter. It starts by you just walking by and throwing a comment towards their conversation you were listening in to. Eventually you had your own designated seat at their table.

Rosie definitely saw the potential the connection you and Alastor had, so she subtly pushes the two of you to hang out more.

This leads to your relationship advancing from mere acquaintances to good friends. The transition quick due to Rosie’s persistence.

Anytime Alastor would visit cannibal town, he would make effort to pay you a visit. He just felt so drawn to your company.

His smile felt less strained, his body would relax, and he could do what he wanted while you served up some fresh pinkie fingers.

There would be occasions of Alastor realizing he’s dropped his guard around you, and he would be snippy and aggressive those days. In fear of going soft and losing his mojo.

The first time he did this scared you,

(I mean obviously, the mans body grows two-ten times in his demon form)

But after a talk with Rosie about it, you tried to be understanding. Instead of falling away or distant with Alastor after his little tantrums, you simply waited it out. When he was back to normal asking softly if he wanted to talk about it or move on.

It wasn’t clear to you when you guys really started being affectionate towards one another. It just kind of happened.

You knew Alastor to be a gentleman before formally meeting him. So him linking arms with you, kissing your knuckles, holding open doors was nothing new.

It seemed like everyone besides the two of you knew the true feelings you two had for each other before you guys did.

You were holding hands, seeing each other everyday, Alastor would give you his coat to borrow on colder days, etc. Just small sweet gestures the two of you would share.

It took an incredible amount of time for Alastor to come to terms with his feelings. He hadn’t done this before and had no control of what his heart wanted. It was scary.

Putting a label on what you guys had didn’t seem necessary. The two of you knew what you meant to each other in an unspoken agreement.

(Rosie did eventually pressure him to actually ask you out however. It was the gentleman’s thing to do)

(But enough backstory)

More often than not, Alastor found himself spending his nights with you. Not to leave until the morning or midday after.

The two of you practically lived together when the overlord wasn’t too busy with other matters.

We already went over how the two of you weren’t big on labels. It wasn’t until Rosie asked that Alastor had even thought about marriage.

“Sooo… when are you going to put a rock on your pretty thang’s finger?”

“Hm? I don’t think it’s necessary.”

“What?? You’re kidding right? That darling and you have been together ages! You wouldn’t want someone else swiping them away from you, right?”

“Hah! Never going to happen. Who in their right mind would try that?”

“…”

“You do know where we are, right?”

It had never occurred to the Radio demon before. You guys had made your relationship official of course. Anyone else who would try and court you and take you away from him would be simply insane.

But the thought wormed itself into his brain and flourished.

The thought of not knowing what you were doing 24/7. The thought of someone possibly stealing you away without his knowledge.

The thought of some undeserving sinner having their hands on what belonged to him.

It irked him.

After that conversation with Rosie, say goodbye to your privacy. You’re not going anywhere alone. He can’t risk someone even attempting to steal you away.

It was irritating how he was always tracking you, keeping a shadow with you at all times.

If someone even dared to hold open a door for you that wasn’t him or his shadow, he’d show up at your side in an instant.

It made you anxious and overall, you felt your partner didn’t trust you.

You did express these feelings to Alastor, but your words seemed to phase right through him. You had no idea what had gotten into him to make him (even more) protective.

You joined him in bed one night, as he was stilling up, enjoying a book with jazz music emitting from his aura.

You cuddle close to him, the feeling of fuzzy static that enveloped you a comforter for your slumber.

Before you can let yourself drift off to sleep, your partner closes his book with one hand, the loud thump making you jolt.

“Say darling, what do you think of marriage?”

The sudden ask has you dumbfounded, giving him a deer in headlights stare. (Hah-)

He had never even mentioned marriage before yet here he was now, smiling at you as he waited for your response.

You give honesty, telling him you never really thought of it yourself and you were surprised to hear the idea from him.

You did mention how the subject didn’t draw you away. You knew you loved Alastor with your entire soul. Your heart and soul were his without one of his binding contracts.

Once he hears your approval he snaps his fingers making one of his shadows appear, holding out his signature red coat to him. He reaches into the pocket of his jacket, fishing out what he desired.

He pulled out a small box and handed it to you, his shadow dismissing itself from the scene.

You give him a confused look, before gently opening the box. Your eyes meeting the small band inside.

Oh- he was serious?????

You give him a puzzled look, while he just tilts his head at you, silently asking ‘too soon?’

Your eyes continue to track from the ring, to him, back to the ring, then back to him.

Your hesitation comes off as denial to Alastor, so he reaches out to take the box back. Before he can even lay a finger on it, you pull it to your chest protectively.

You give him a glare for even having the audacity to try and take this away from you. Your actions make him chuckle and hold his hands up defensively.

You slip the band onto your ring finger. Once it’s perfectly snug onto your digit, you pull your partner close to you, peppering his lips with small pecks. Scolding him in between your kisses for being so nonchalant.

He simply chuckles against your affections, telling you the ring will be a reminder you are always his.

And you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Vox:

Vox is not one for settling down. No shot in hell.

Have you seen this man?? Holy hell take a chill pill.

A lot of Vox’s priorities lie with his work. He’s always pushing the boundaries of tech, eager to create something new and be on the face of it.

He never thought of dating. Being tied down to one person made him cringe. So the thought of marriage never even entered his system.

Then there was you of course. Messing up his plans.

How could he not fall for you? You were charming, beautiful, and down right too good for him.

(According to him.)

Your presence and the feelings you gave him made him feel threatened. He tried to put him a wall between the two of you, avoiding you at all costs.

But when he would look at his phone, seeing your icon pop up with messages to him. His fans would kick into gear, his cold heart ticking rapidly in his chest.

Yeah he had it BAD.

When you became a priority to him as well, it kind of threw a wrench in the balance of his schedule.

Yes he loves you but that fact scares him. He wasn’t exactly the safest demon to be around.

So he found it better that the two of you keep your relationship secret. Mostly spending early mornings and late nights with you.

It was difficult to manage. You wanted nothing more than to try hang out with your partner all day but he was always busy.

You would visit him at work, but on very rare occasion. You still owned your soul, which meant Valentino saw it as up for grabs, despite Vox’s warnings (threats) to not lay a finger on you.

As much as you enjoyed visiting your partner at work, you understood his reasonings for being uncomfortable with it.

Besides that, the chance of others seeing the two of you in public was way too high. You guys didn’t usually go on dates.

Your partner was more comfortable having you stay at home, having a double life without him. You lived with Vox, but outside of the time you two spent together, you had your own things going on.

Vox knew about it of course, he cares about you more than anything. He needs to know what’s going on at all times. And what you had going on outside of him was important to him.

He always has a screen pulled up in his monitor room while working. Just to see what you were up to.

The screen usually tracked a camera on you whenever you went out, it displayed your phone screen whenever it was in use, and showed your vitals on the bottom corner of the screen.

He didn’t trust the sinners that roamed these streets, rightfully so. Being able to track you gave him a source of comfort when he couldn’t always be around.

As mentioned before, going out on dates wasn’t really a thing. But Vox would usually clear up one day a month in his schedule. Just to spend the entire day with you.

(Of course he occasionally shuts down, checking how everything is going at V headquarters while he’s not around. Cant take this man entirely away from his work)

You’d spend those days cuddling, ordering in some takeout, and just catching up with each other. Getting in as much affection as you could.

The nights were soft and intimate. It was what you always looked forward to.

Vox had some things to do early morning on the day designated for the two of you. You did pout and complain to him, but he promised to be back as soon as he could.

Hours passed and you started to get a little bit peeved that your partner had yet to return home. Checking the time, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

You get dolled up, pack up a small container of snacks, and head to V’s headquarters.

Making your way through the crowd of demons and sinners. You head up the elevator, but it stops on Valentinos floor.

And with just your luck, the lustful demon is standing there, waiting to get on. When he sees your face, he grins wide and enters the elevator. Standing uncomfortably close.

He blows out his pink slut smoke into the small space, making you cringe and try to waft the stench away from you.

Valentino is touchy and that’s an understatement.

So when he bends down at your level, once again offering a job to you, your heart rate spikes.

Meanwhile, Vox is having a one sided argument with Velvette, the young overlord scolding him as she changed his outfit several times.

It wasn’t often Vox was used as a model for Velvette, but he had actually asked her ahead of time to design something special for you and him.

By ahead of time, he asked yesterday, not giving Velvette nearly enough time.

While he tuned out of his teammate reprimanding him, his watch buzzed, alerting him of your abnormal heart rate.

He gives a confused look, his screen going black for a second as he brought up his home security camera on his screen. When seeing you weren’t at the house, his eye twitched.

Where the hell did you go??

He was brought back, his face glitching in and out as he pulled out his phone, bringing up your location.

He saw how close you were and immediately thought the worst.

He zaps himself into the nearest camera, zipping through the electronics to find where you are.

Within a minute, he’s found you in the elevator, practically cornered by Valentino who was literally drooling on you.

The lights flicker in the elevator as it comes to a screeching halt. Cue your partner showing up with a crack of blue electricity, yanking Valentino away from you by the moth’s wing.

He puts himself in front of you, acting as a shield so you don’t have to be near Valentino’s poison.

“W̵̰̻͍̉̔̅̀̐͐͒͆̒̚ḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ǎ̴̯̀͠t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ f̵̢̻͈̫̬̻͔̘̞͈̆̇̍̈̌͊ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓c̵̛̥͊k̵̘̺̦͉͖̪̪͖͉͊̆̔́̈́̍̃̈́͒̂̑̀̚͜͝ d̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅ y̶͔͗ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝i̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝k̵̘̺̦͉͖̪̪͖͉͊̆̔́̈́̍̃̈́͒̂̑̀̚͜͝ y̶͔͗ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓’r̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ d̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅi̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝ǧ̷̡̟̲̹̩̱͉̮̭͇͚̮̖̟̽̓͊̔̓̕??”

(What the fuck do you think you’re doing??)

Vox’s voice glitched out, muted TV static layering his voice as the fans whirled in the back of his head. In a desperate attempt to cool him down.

Valentino doesn’t give much of a reaction, putting his hands up in feigned innocence.

“𝒟𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒱𝑜𝓍𝓍𝒾𝑒! 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝒻𝒻𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻-“

“You better watch your mouth.”

“𝒪𝒽𝒽, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃’𝓉 𝒶𝓈𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝓎𝑒𝓉. 𝒲𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝒶𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓈𝓅𝑜𝒾𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝒾𝑔 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓈𝑒.”

Valentino speaks with sickening sarcasm. You look between the two, incredibly confused. Vox looks like he’s about to explode.

The lights flicker back on, and the door opens, Vox demanding his business partner leave.

The moth scowls at the both of you, before putting one set of hands on his hips, the other set of arms crossing across his chest. In the most sassy way possibly leave the two of you behind.

Vox waits for the elevator door to close before he can breath again. He’s muttering angrily to himself, one hand on either side of his screen as he tries not to blue screen.

You put your hand over his, his cold hand giving you a subtle shock of electricity as you touched him. You give him a concerned gaze, silently asking if he was okay.

Vox looks at you, shoulders relaxing just looking into your comforting eyes. Little bolts of electricity shoot out from the side of his screen as he tries to calm himself, his fans working overtime.

You set down the bag of treats you were bringing for him to hold his hands in your own. You give him a bright smile, concern not leaving your eyes.

You reassure him that whatever he had planned isn’t ruined. You could just pretend you didn’t know! You didn’t want this little run in to ruin your guys’ day.

You ramble on as he just stares at you, almost blankly, his screen fading from blue to a baby pink as he listened to you.

As you’re apologizing for causing trouble, he puts a hand up to stop your little speech.

He reaches into his pant pocket, pulling out a small halo shaped piece of jewelry. He holds your left hand in his own as he gets down on one knee in front of you.

I mean.. you knew he had a surprise planned, but seeing his actions didn’t fail to shock you.

He gives a little speech to you, stuttering and glitching over his words as he tries to explain himself.

For being a perfectionist overlord, this was one hell of a show.

He’s a blushing glitching mess, cursing to himself when he couldn’t find the exact words he wanted to say.

You grab the sides of his screen, looking him in the eyes and forcing him to meet your gaze. You’re saying yes before he can embarrass himself anymore.

He looks a bit shocked by your response, he can’t believe you said yes after that display he just put on. Before he can get the ring on your finger, he blue screens from shock and embarrassment.

You kind of chuckle and sit down beside your partner while you wait for him to reboot. Not like you could go anywhere with the elevator being stuck with the two of you inside. You do gently take the piece of jewlry, sliding it onto your finger and admiring its design.

Cuddling into Vox’s arm, you can’t help but smile brightly at the decorative piece snug on your ring finger.

It was perfect.

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Poly!plastics x Skater!reader

While skating reader ended up breaking their wrist doing some dumbass trick and comes to school with a cast, and the plastics are integrating reader (mostly Regina and Gretchen), mf just says “oh yea i broke my wrist doing a trick” like it’s the calmest thing in the world 💀

What The Fuck

|| poly!plastics x nonbinary!skater!reader

|| Warnings; injured reader, swearing, Regina pissed at reader, short drabble

|| Summary; when reader shows up to school with an injury, the girls are concerned. More so than reader, it seems.

Requests closed!

Started; November 19th

Finished; November 19th

~~~

It happened so fast you barely had time to react. You were out skating. Just rolling down the street on your skateboard, popping tricks and testing out various things. As your board landed, you caught a pebble the wrong way and it suddenly stopped. Causing you to go flying forwards. Of course, you just had to land right on your wrist. Pain immediately shot through your body. An almost whimper like sound escaping your lips. Fuck. That's definitely broken.

The following day, you walked into school with a cast around your wrist. People glanced at you and gave you strange looks. Wondering what could have happened to you. They knew who you were. How couldn't they? You were part of the school's infamous poly group with the plastics. Everyone knew you. It was hard not to.

You made your way to your locker, struggling a bit with your lock as you could only use one hand. Once it was opened, you set your bag inside and got out whatever books you needed. Just as the plastics walked over to you. Gretchen was the first one you heard.

"Oh my God!!" Gretchen's voice rang out throughout the hall, startling Karen who looked at her. Confusion and concern on her face," Y/N, what happened to your wrist?!" She ran over to inspect you. Quickly followed by Regina and Karen.

"Seriously, what dumbass stunt did you pull this time?" Regina asked, eyes looking over your cast before landing on you. You glanced at it, then at them.

"Oh. Yeah. I broke my wrist doing a trick," you replied with a shrug. A shrug. You just... shrugged it off? Gretchen was gonna lose it but Regina got it first.

"I'm sorry, what the fuck?" She stared at you. Mixes of concern and anger at your chillness about it in her eyes. You shrugged again. Karen seemed to have finally caught up with what was happening, because she suddenly gasped and looked at your cast.

"Can I colour it?!" Karen beamed, you couldn't help but laugh and dug in your locker for your markers.

"Sure, baby." Once you got them, you handed them to her and the three of you made your way to class. Not before you closed up your locker though, obviously. Karen drew as you walked, she was actually a very good artist. You couldn't help but watch. Regina was still annoyed at you, sending you glares and giving silent treatment. How were you so calm about a broken wrist? Why didn't you tell them? She was mostly upset you never bothered to say anything last night and just let them find out. Cause what the fuck.

Gretchen noticed you carrying your books and immediately took them from you," let me get these. You're hurt."

"I'm hurt but not helpless, Gretchen." You sighed, but the determination and seriousness in her eyes kept you from arguing further. She carried your books, Karen decorated your cast and Regina seethed in silence. However she would yell at you more later, when they had the time. You were saved by the bell.

[a-super-cutie]

Persistence. Obsession. Persistently obsessed.

(Part 2 of 8) SFW chapter, MDNI, 18+ series

cecil stedman x female!superhero!reader

wc: 1,289

series synopsis: You and Cecil have started seeing each other but your jobs (mostly his) keep interrupting date after date. He clearly thinks this won't work for you, but how many times do you have to tell him how utterly head over heels you are for him?? Well, if telling won't work, maybe showing him will.

Masterlist ~~~ Last Part ~~~ Next Part

You and Donald stood behind a very large bug. You floated up to peek over the dead thing’s exoskeleton at Cecil who stood a distance away talking to a hero. They conversed about things and he pointed at the giant queen - also dead - and paid no attention to where his right hand man had gone or where his secret girlfriend was.

You floated back down to Donald. “Yes, a vacation. Just one! Just three days.”

He shook his head. “Cecil does not take vacations.”

“Yeah I know that! But he needs one!”

Donald raised a brow at you.

“Ok, I need him to take one… B-but because he obviously deserves some rest for being such a good boss.” You laughed nervously at the man who wasn’t buying it.

“..I know you and him are… seeing each other. But -“

“You know?!” You flew up again to glare at Cecil but he was already looking your way. Your eyes widened as they met his and you ducked back down. “He saw me! Please, Donald. Please! I just want to spend some time with him.”

He looked down at you as your feet touched the ground and you clasped your hands together pleadingly. “..There is a protocol in place in case the director cannot make it into work, due to sickness or the like.”

You floated back to his eye level and nodded. “Yeah? So if he were gone for three days?”

“No. One day.”

“No! Three!”

“Two. Any more and the paperwork would pile up and he’d be behind by more than a week. Just two if this is to help him de-stress.”

“Yes, ok fine, thank you!” You hugged him tight and pulled away with a happy squeal. Your plan! Your plan was in motion!

“Am I interrupting something?” Cecil raised his eyebrow at the both of you.

You tried not to look too startled at his sudden appearance. That sneaky, stealthy man!

Donald stepped away. “No sir. Not at all”

You drew closer to your boyfriend - not too close in case anyone else flew by - and gave your best lie. “I just had questions about my technique taking these things down… he gave good pointers.” You smiled.

He wasn’t buying it. Not with the way his eyes narrowed and darted between the both of you. But he shrugged and looked around at the plump carcasses littering the road out of town. “You did pretty good for just the three of you. I was worried you guys were going to be overwhelmed.”

“They were taken down in record time.” Donald looked down at his tablet. “Though I would suggest focusing on the nests sooner.”

Cecil nodded at that. “Well. We have to go. The lab guys have it taken care of and you guys are off the hook for clean up.”

Donald nodded and they both teleported out.

Great! You flew into the sky and waved goodbye at the other two heroes that helped you today. You made your way home with twirls and whirls in the clouds, giddy about your plan. If Cecil’s work was covered for two days then all you had to do was whisk him away.

You already made 'reservations' at a winter resort not too far, the perfect place to cuddle and hide under blankets exploring and groping and -

You sighed and giggled some more, sliding your window open to enter your place. You quickly discarded your clothes and hopped in the shower.

First, you’d need immediate access to Cecil. How else would you pick him up and fly him to your destination? That meant he’d need to be over; you haven’t been invited to his house and honestly probably never would with how secretive that man is.

“His clothes! How could I forget!”

You turned off the shower and toweled off. He’ll need a packed bag with winter clothes for two days. “How am I gonna do that?!” You pulled on a robe and fell onto your bed. Your fingers scrolled through the very few contacts you had on your phone and pressed the button to call up Donald. “Please help me again!”

Donald cleared his throat. “Is it an emergency?”

“… No…”

He sighed. “I have a minute.”

“Is you-know-who around?”

He hesitated. “This is a secure line.”

Donald seemed to be of a similar height to Cecil. Though he had a sturdier-looking build… You always enjoyed clothes that were slightly too big on you so maybe Cecil would too. “Could I borrow a winter jacket from you? Just for a couple days?”

“Uh… Is this for exactly two days? For what we discussed?”

“Yes. I just realized I’ll need a winter jacket for … you know.”

“You can pick it up from me tonight if you like. I’ll text you my - well… I’ll drop it off instead. Tonight. After work.”

“That’s perfect! Thank you, Donald! You’re the best!”

There was silence on the other line before you heard Cecil grumble something in the background. “Yes, Sir." He whispered, "3 am,” before the line went dead.

You got dressed, made lunch, watered your plants, cleaned up, watched some tv, made dinner, did some chores, watched more tv, and FINALLY 3am rolled around.

Someone knocked on your door quietly at first and then more firmly as you took your sleepy time to open it up. Donald stood there with a jacket in hand. He held it out to you.

You yawned. “Thanks again! I’d ask you to somehow get me - “

He shook his head.

Oh. Of course! Cecil must have this whole apartment building bugged because of you. He always knew when any neighbors bothered you. You nodded, silently thanking him for his caution before you accidentally gave away too much. “Well thanks, again. You’re really great and I’ll text you the other details.”

He nodded but gave you a genuine smile.

“Night!” You closed the door and watched him leave from your door’s peephole. “Donald’s real nice.” You wondered if Cecil was close friends with him. They had to be friends by now, working together on such secret confidential things. It was still hard to imagine him having friends with how closed off he seemed, but it’s not like you know how he acts away from the heroes he commands.

You draped his jacket over a chair and took out your phone. There was one thing to do now. Get Cecil alone. You fell onto your bed and curled up with your phone in hand to text your boyfriend.

”Hey, still at work?”

”Just ended.”

”I want to see you. When are you least busy?”

Several minutes went by and you imagined him going through his calendar to find you some dates within this century.

”Not sure.”

You frowned. ”What about next week? Super busy then?”

”Meetings. And whatever else decides to blow things up.”

”Right… when do you have the least amount of work, probably?”

”Well it’s a weird kind of holiday this weekend. For some reason we get the least amount of crime annually around these two days.”

”What!! Why??”

”Don’t know. Maybe the bigger villains have some sort of convention or something. It’s normally just giant creatures and small villains we deal with at the end of this month every year.”

”Can’t believe you guys keep track of that sort of thing”

”Knowing patterns saves lives.”

He texted again: ”Nothing escapes my notice.”

”Ooh, ominous. Let’s meet up then! I can’t wait to see you!”

”Yeah. You want me over?”

”Is the other option your place?”

”No.”

He texted again: ”Sorry.”

He texted again. ”Some other time.”

”My place it is! Come Friday night right after work then? Do you get off at 3 every night?”

”No.”

”Random then? Makes sense. Then just text me”

You messaged again: ”Or just show up. Whatever gets you here faster ;)”

”Ok. Night.”

”Night!”

You smiled and turned to your plants. “It’s happening!”

______________________________________________________________

Masterlist ~~~ Last Part ~~~ Next Part

a/n: hope you enjoyed part two! I thought I'd post the first two to get the ball rolling on the series :) I'll post the rest once a week

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Second Chance - Chapter 19

Masterlist

Warnings: small amount of angst but mostly fluff, throwing up, argument

Word Count: 5.4k

You liked to call yourself an animal lover. There wasn’t an animal that you hated. Sure, you were apprehensive about snakes, but you understood each animal had a place in the animal kingdom. Each animal had a part in keeping nature moving. The circle of life was amazing. However….horses were fucking massive. You were never around them to appreciate their size. You saw horse-drawn carriage rides at a distance but stayed away from them because of some ethical issues. But holy shit. They were big and intimidating. “This is Annie,” Lila introduced you to the animal. The horse was dark brown with white on her face. Her mane was black. Lila sat on top of the fence to brush Annie. “All of the horses are American Quarters,” she took a carrot out of her pocket and handed it to you. Hesitantly, you walked closer to the fence and gave it to Annie. “Never been around horses before?” Lila questioned. You chuckled.

“Am I that obvious?” Like the dogs at the shelter and Lucky, you put your hand out for the horse to smell. It took a few seconds before Annie pushed her nose into your hand. Lucky animals seemed to like you.

“Kind of,” Lila giggled. “Horses can sense our anxiety, and I’ve gotten pretty good at reading them.” The young girl scratched underneath Annie’s chin. “Yelena said you used to work with animals.”

“Yeah, the aquatic kind,” you said. “I studied marine biology and mechanical engineering. I’ve swam with sharks, dolphins, and string rays.” Your favorite was swimming with whale sharks off the Australian coast. The way Lila’s mouth dropped was funny. “Careful,” you teased. “You swallow a fly.”

The sound of another horse drew your attention to the barn. Yelena was leading another horse. This one was gray. “Lena, why is your girlfriend so much cooler than you?”

“What?” Yelena stuttered. The way her mouth opened and closed was cute, but she recovered quickly. “First off, rude. Second, I am so much cooler.” You rolled your eyes and followed Yelena to the gate. The blonde jumped off the horse and opened it for you. “This one is Storm. Technically, she is mine and Natasha’s.” You took a few steps forward and scratched its chin.

“She’s pretty,” you whispered. “Not as pretty as you, of course.” You teased and liked how Yelena’s cheeks flushed a light pink, either from the cold or the compliment. You wanted to believe it was both. Lila faked a gag.

“Okay, I take everything back,” the young girl said. “You guys are gross.” Lila transitioned from the fence to Annie’s saddle. The horse shifted at the additional weight. “I’ll be on the back trails if you want to join. With a practiced ease, Lila moved from the fence to the saddle. Her hands skimmed the horse’s neck. Annie shifted, muscles flexing beneath her weight. A nudge of Lila’s heel, a quiet word, and the horse moved forward, its hooves pressed into the dirt with an easy rhythm.

Lila’s posture was effortless, back straight and hands steady on the reins. Then they approached the fence. Your breath caught, but Lila barely hesitated. There was just the slightest squeeze of her legs and a shift in her weight; Annie raced forward.

Time seemed to hang as Annie jumped over the fence in a perfect arc. Her hooves touched the ground on the other side, and she continued forward as if nothing happened. You exhaled slowly. Your eyes widened as you looked at Yelena. “Show off,” the blonde mumbled. “Do not worry, we won’t exist that way.”

“Are we going for a ride?” You asked.

“Only if you want to,” you bite your lip. You hesitated beside the large horse. Going on a ride was the last thing you wanted to do, but it seemed like something Yelena loved to do. Besides, you felt okay and weren’t sure when you’d get this opportunity in the net time. Your hands moved to the leather saddle. The horse shifted beneath your touch, exhaling a warm breath that tickled your skin.

“Help me get up there,” Yelena’s smile was why you agreed to this stupid idea.

“Put your left foot in the stirrup,” she instructed. Her voice was patient and kind. She cupped her hands together to offer a boost.

You did as she said, your boot slipping once before catching. Yelena lifted you as you pushed off, and suddenly, you rose higher than expected. Your other leg swung clumsily over the horse’s back, and you landed in the saddle with an awkward thump. Storm’s ears flickered as you grabbed onto the saddle in a panic.

“Easy, easy,” Yelena soothed. You weren’t sure if she was talking to you or the horse. “Now sit tall. Let her know you are there, but do not grip too tight.” You swallowed hard and loosened your death grip, exhaling for the first time since leaving the ground. The world looked different up here - larger yet somehow more fragile.

“You did it,” Yelena said. “I am going to lead her out so you can get used to the feeling.” You nodded, unable to find your voice. Yelena clicked her tongue, grabbed the reins, and Storm started to walk. The movement was unsettling. It wasn’t a simple motion - it was a rolling, swaying rhythm that traveled through your body. Your muscles tensed instinctively, gripping tighter than necessary as if you might slip off.

Everything felt unnatural. The ground was no longer beneath your feet; you were perched on something alive that moved and breathed beneath you. It took some time, but your body adjusted. You trusted Yelena, Storm, and yourself. You found the give in your body and how your hips followed the horse’s stride.

“Good,” Yelena closed the gate when you passed through. “Are you ready for me to join you?”

“I uh think so,” Yelena chuckled. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” her smile grew. “It is just strange to see you unsure of yourself.” You huffed and rolled your eyes.

“Next time, we are swimming with sharks.” Yelena laughed, and the sound startled Storm. Interesting, you thought. Is her laughter not common here?

“Storm will probably shift, but do not panic.” Great. Wasn’t she aware that when someone says not to panic, it makes the person panic more? Yelena was smoother with her moment. The saddle dipped slightly with the added weight. The blonde was right that Storm shifted, but she was getting used to the new addition—as were you.

The space on the saddle was no longer your own. You could feel every slight movement she made, every adjustment as she settled in. Yelena took the reins and directed Storm to the woods.

You could feel Yelena’s body move with yours—neither of you was attuned to the same rhythm. The space between you and Yelena disappeared with every stride towards the trail. Being in the saddle with another person felt different. The warmth, the shared breath, and the subtle press of her leg against yours were a quiet connection, unspoken but deeply felt.

Once you got on the trail, Yelena placed the reins into your hands. It felt colder since you were out of the run, but Yelena’s warmth helped. There was a stillness in the wooded area near Barton’s home. It filled you with a sense of peace. Storm kept her pace slow. The air felt different up here, crisp and wide open, carrying the scent of Earth and leather. The sound of Storm’s hooves was steady.

You enjoyed it out here. All of your worries were pushed away. Still, what Lila called you caused your stomach to flip and fill with butterflies. Girlfriend. Lila called you Yelena’s girlfriend. And you liked it. “So,” you broke the silence. “Girlfriend, eh?” The blonde tensed behind you. Soon, she relaxed and let out a long sigh.

“I was not sure what to call us,” she rested her chin on your shoulder. Calling you my girlfriend seemed the easiest.” You smiled. “I am sorry.” You appreciated the apology, but you saw no need for one.

“I kind of liked it,” you admitted. “Being called your girlfriend, I mean.” You glanced at her and saw the smile that overtook her face. Oh, you loved her smile. It was beautiful.

“Yeah?” she questioned. Her voice was so soft and hopeful that it twisted at your heart even more.

“Yeah, baby,” you picked up her right hand and kissed the palm of her hand.

“Hold on tight, devochka (baby girl),” was your only warning before Yelena used her heel to nudge Storm. The horse picked up speed. There was a brief moment of uncertainty - your body adjusted to the power surge. The steady thud of hooves against the wooden trail became a rolling drumbeat.

The wind rushed past, cool and sharp, carrying the scent of pine and damp Earth. The speed demanded your trust, and you gave in. Twigs snapped in the underbrush, and a bird was startled on a branch, but none mattered. It was just you, Yelena, Storm, and the path ahead. The trill of the speed sent a pulse of exhilaration through your chest. Each stride felt like a promise, like freedom itself.

With the ride, your heartbeat pounded in time, and a breathless laugh escaped your lips. There was nothing like this.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Gods above you were sore. Riding a horse was not for the faint of heart. There were muscles in your legs that you had not used in a LONG time. Yelena chuckled at your misfortune. “Shut up,” you mumbled and tried to walk normally back to the house once the horses were back in the barn. Yelena put her arm around your waist and pulled you closer to her. You pouted but couldn’t bring yourself to push her away. Her warmth was infectious. “I’m going to shower,” you said as Yelena opened the front door for you. Her eyes light up. “Down dog,” you teased and playfully pushed her on the couch. She hugged and crossed her arms. Laughing, you kissed her cheek and walked towards the stairs. Before you could get far, Yelena grabbed your hand and pulled you into a searing kiss. When she pulled away, she was smirking. “Jerk,” you huffed and walked to the room you were staying in.

You quickly grabbed a change of clothes and went into the bathroom. Once the water was to your liking, you sighed under the pressure. It helped the ache in your bones immediately. It was fun to tease Yelena. Under no circumstances would you have sex at the Barton’s house. The possibility of getting caught was too big of a risk.

It has been years since you’ve engaged in that level of intimacy with another person. With the car accident and the cancer, your body changed. You covered your face with your hands and let the water fall over you. What if Yelena wasn’t happy with what she saw? What if you disappointed her?

You groaned and turned off the water. Quickly, you dried yourself off and put on the new set of clothes. The less time you were cold, the better. You threw your dirty clothes onto the bed to be dealt with later and walked down the stairs. Yelena wasn’t on the couch where you last saw her but outside with Nate and Lucky. With the bit of snow on the ground, the blonde picked it up and threw it at the two. You put on a jacket before you open the door. The sound caught Yelena’s attention. You gave her a thumbs-up and sat down in the rocking chair. Her attention went back to her playmates.

Yelena’s mile was infectious as Lucky jumped and tried to catch the snow mixed with Nate’s laugh. You were surprised she was so good with kids. Then again, Yelena was the perfect example of not judging a book by its cover. “She’s always been good with him,” you looked at Laura, who exited the house and sat in the chair next to you. “He was one of the main reasons Yelena and Natasha became closer,” you looked back at the Black Widow. Now, she was carrying the youngest Barton on her shoulders. “I think she’ll always have a soft spot for him.” You wanted to know more about the complicated relationship of the Black Widow duo, but it seemed unfair to put Laura in that position.

“I always wanted a sibling,” you said, crossing your right leg over your left. “My mom did her best by working full time, but it was lonely.” Babysitters or next-door neighbors were raising a lot of your youth. Suddenly, your stomach dropped. A tightness formed in your chest, and an uneasy feeling washed over you. Panic. You felt a strange panic and weren’t sure what brought it on.

“Hey,” you looked at Laura. “Are you okay? You turned pale.” You nodded and let out a slow breath.

“Yeah,” you forced a smile. “I think I just got tired.” Before Laura could interrogate you further, Nate yelled out, ‘Auntie Nat,’ and drew your attention away from each other. Nate ran towards the redhead, but Bucky caught off his path. With his flesh arm, he picked him up and dangled him upside down.

“B-Bucky! B-Bucky! Stop!” Nate laughed. The super soldier shook him several times before placing him back on his feet.

“I had to see if you had any pocket money,” the man said. “You and your siblings love to bleed me dry.” Laura chuckled and shook her head fondly.

“They love to spoil them,” the mother of three said. I wouldn’t be surprised if there are toys in that bag.” Natasha was holding the bag in question. Again, it was smart to never judge a book by its cover. Yelena walked over to greet her sister with Lucky by her side. They spoke in hushed voices. Suddenly, Nate sprinting over to his mom.

“Mom! Mom! Can we play Nerf Wars? Please! Please!” He dramatically fell onto his mom’s lap. Laura huffed and glared at the three Avengers as they walked closer. Nate looked at you. His eyes went wide. “And you have to play! It’s so much fun!” You looked at Laura, then Yelena.

“Someone will have to explain the game before I agree to anything.” Yelena laughed, but it died down when Laura’s glare intensified.

“Originally, it was a training course for Clint and Nat,” Laura explained. “Now it’s been modified to a Nerf course for the kids. There have been a few injuries.”

“Just some bumps and bruises,” Natasha defended. “Nothing major.” Laura glared at the redhead.

“Please, Mom!” Nate pleaded. “I’ll be super, duper careful.” Laura sighed.

“Go ask your brother and sister if they want to play, and your father also has to agree.” Nate cheered and took off into the house to ask Cooper.

“Are you going to join us, Stark?” Natasha asks you with a smirk. As much as you wanted to, you needed to listen to your body. Your body was yelling, ‘No!’.

“Rain check,” you said. “Maybe another time.” Her green eyes scanned you over but nodded.

“I’ll hold you to that. “You expected Yelena to follow Bucky and Natasha to wherever this game was being held. Even Laura could read the room and went into the house, mumbling about making food.

“What is wrong?” Yelena asked and took the seat that Laura was sitting in.

“Nothing,” and that was the truth. The weird feeling of panic passed. There were no words to describe what came over you. “Honestly,” you took her hand. “I’m tired, and I should probably eat something.” You only had a granola bar.

“I can stay here then,” you took your head immediately. This would only work if Yelena continued to do things on days you weren’t feeling well. You would not hold her back.

“No,” you said. The front door swung open, and Cooper and Nate ran out. The youngest Barton yelled at Yelena to hurry up. “You are going to go and play, and I will be fine.” She wasn’t convinced. “Yelena,” you sighed. “On days I don’t feel good, I need you to continue to live your life. I can’t hold you back.” The blonde frowned.

“You could never hold me back,” she whispered. “But propel me forward.” You smiled.

“That was really gay, but you know what I’m trying to say,” Yelena sighed and nodded. “Laura will be here. Go have fun and kick some ass.” Yelena chuckled and kissed your cheek.

“If you need anything, have Laura call. There is a radio by the course,” You promised you would, and watched her run off. Waiting for a beat, you stood up and walked into the house. Laura was in the kitchen, preparing sandwiches for everyone.

“Your work is never done, I see,” you teased and leaned against the counter. Laura huffed and placed her hands on her hips.

“There are a lot of mouths to feed when you lot come to visit.” Her smile gave away that she was okay with a full house. “What can I get for you at Cuisine Barton? " Her French accent made you giggle.

“Any soup options?” Laura turned her back to you and looked through her cabinets.

“We have chicken noodles, a chowder, and tomato,” you scrunched your nose at the options. It was better than nothing, but they made your stomach twist.

“Chicken noddle, please,” you went to stand up to make it for yourself, but Laura waved you off. “What are you doing?”

“Making it. Go sit on the couch, and I’ll bring it to you.” You opened your mouth to protest, but she shot you down with a look. You knew that look. All mothers had one, and it has been a while since you’ve been on the receiving end. With a sigh, you gave up and walked over to the couch. You flopped down and found the remote. You turned the TV to the Discovery Channel. Luckily, it was a nature documentary.

Again, you felt restless. It was an odd feeling letting someone else help you through this. You were honest when you told Clint you didn’t want to fight this alone. It was just getting some used to, too. After a few minutes, Laura appeared with a bowl of soup and water.

“I am going to go check on the others,” she said. “If you need anything, there is a radio in the kitchen.”

“Thank you,” you smiled. “But I’ll be right here.” Laura chuckled. She hesitated about something, and you titled your head in question. Before you could ask, Laura bent down and kissed your head.

“You are a strong girl,” she said. “Never forget that.”

“Oh.” You whispered. Laura smiled with a nod and left you alone. As the front door closed behind her, you let out a shaky breath. A knot formed in your stomach. It felt like a snake wrapped around your heart. Laura and Pepper reminded you so much of your mom. Man, you missed her.

Your phone started to ring, and you were thankful for the distraction from your thoughts. It was Dr. Carpenter. “Hello,” you answered. “What can I do for you this fine afternoon?” The doctor chuckled.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but I wanted to go through your treatment plan,” you frowned and took a sip of water. Before we changed it, this would have been your week off,” you nodded even though he couldn’t see you. Let’s continue the new treatment and not skip the week.” Oh, you were looking forward to having a week off.

“If you think that’s the best course of action, I trust your judgment.” You trusted the man with your life.

“I do as long as you are feeling up to it,” you told him you were tired but okay. “Perfect. I’ll have the nurses set everything up, and they’ll let you know when to come in.”

“Thank you, Dr. Carpenter. I’ll talk to you soon.” You hung up and sighed. The soup was growing cold, and you knew you needed to eat. The act was sickening. Slowly, you began to eat—ignoring the chicken and vegetables and only eating the broth. It tasted awful.

In hindsight, forcing yourself to eat was a mistake. But your mind was all muddled, and you hated feeling so weak. The feeling hit you instantly. A wave of nausea crept up your throat. Your stomach twisted violently, and a cold sweat broke out along your forehead. You swallowed hard, willing the sensation to pass, but the bitter taste of bile had already risen at the back of your mouth.

You forced yourself to stand and ran to the bathroom on the first floor. Your hands trembled as you clutched the toilet bowl, and a shudder wracked your body as you seized control.

Acid burned as you gagged, and your stomach convulsed in uncontrollable spasms. The world around you blurred into nothing but the sound of your choked breaths. Another wave hit you. Instead of fighting it, you succumbed to the feeling. The sour stench made you gag again. A tear slipped down your cheek as you took a shaky breath; your body shook with aftershock.

Suddenly, a gentle hand moved up and down your back. It was grounding. You forced yourself off the toilet bowl and against the wall. “My cooking is not that bad.” Laura teased. She was trying to make light of the situation, but you saw the concern. You chuckled weakly.

“My apologies to the chief,” you smiled. Laura closed the toilet bowl and flushed away the contents. She grabbed a towel and wet it from the sink. You thanked her with a smile when she handed it to you. “Please do not tell Yelena about this.” You used the bathtub to pull yourself up and sat on the closed lid.

“Why not?” Laura asked, handing you a small cup of water. You took a sip, used it to clean your mouth, and spit it in the sink.

“She was very excited to come here. I don’t want to ruin it because I can’t fucking eat chicken noodle soup,” you huffed and rested your elbow on the counter. Your head fell into your hand. “I’m sorry,” you said after a beat of silence. “I’m not angry at you. Just-”

“Frustrated about the situation,” you hummed in agreement, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Look, I won’t tell her, but if she asks, I’m not going to lie either.” Right. She knew Yelena much longer than you. Her allegiance lined with her. It was wrong of you to ask such a thing. “But,” she knelt to be face to face with you. “You are part of this family now. We take care and worry about people in this family.” Laura cupped your cheeks and pushed away a few of your tears.

“Okay,” you nodded. “Thank you.” She stood up with a smile.

“Do you need me to get you anything?” You hesitated but remembered what she said.

“Ginger ale if you have any, and maybe some crackers.” Laura smiled.

“Of course. I’ll bring it up to your room,” she kissed your forehead. “Take your time in here, though.” She left you alone and closed the door behind her. It took some time before you got the strength to stand up. Your hands gripped the countertop Ever so slowly, you looked into the mirror. Honestly, you looked like shit. There were dark bags underneath your ears. Every ounce of color was drained from your face. You felt so weak. Every bone, muscle, and nerve endings hurt.

Sighing, you turned on the cold water and cupped it in your hand. The splash of water on your face sent a chill down your spine, but it woke you up. You repeated the action a few times before you dried off your face.

“Come on,” you mumbled as you stared at your reflection. “Get it together. You are an Easton, for fuck sake. Be stronger.” You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths.

You used to ask your mom how she could be so strong and brave when she faced down criminals—especially as a woman. She would say, ‘Be strong, not because it’s easy because you have no other choice. Strength is forged in fire.’

You were strong. You were brave. You were a fighter, and everything was going to be okay. You shook out your limbs before opening the door. However, you weren’t expecting to run into Yelena holding the two items you asked Laura to get for you. Damn. You hoped you had a few more moments alone to pull yourself together. The universe had other plans. The theme of your fucking life. “Laura told me to bring these to you,” she held up the two items. Ugh, of course. Technically, she kept her promise to you and Yelena. “What happened?”

“Nothing. I—” you sighed. I got sick.” You flicked your head to the toilet. “Just part of the process, " you mumbled. Yelena looked at you and then to the toilet behind you.

“You should be hooked up to some hydration. Come on.” It was a simple suggestion that was, at the core, very smart. You lost a lot of fluids, and you weren’t drinking enough water when you were outside. You knew she was trying to help, but it hit a nerve. All of your emotions were all over the place, and you were so fucking tired.

“I don’t need you telling me what to do,” the words came tumbling out faster than you could stop them. I can take care of myself.” Surprisingly, Yelena kept her features calm, her eyebrows narrowing at you.

“Clearly,” she deadpanned. “Because you are doing such a good at that.” Sarcasm dripped in every word. Your jaw clenched.

“I don’t need this,” you said, pushing past her and taking the stairs to the second floor two at a time.

“Where are you going?” Yelena asked, close behind you.

“Away from you,” you slammed the door behind you. You groaned and threw yourself on the bed. Burying your face in Yelena’s pillow, you let out a frustrated sigh. A headache was forming behind your eyes. All you wanted to do was scream, cry, or throw something until it broke. This was why you did this alone; there was no one to hurt.

“Dorogoy (sweetheart),” you heard Yelena through the door. She must have leaned against the closed door because you listened to the wood move. “Can I come in? Please?” She sounded heartbroken.

“Yeah,” you called out. The sound was muffled from the pillow, but Yelena still heard it. The door opened and closed behind her. You turned your head to watch her enter and placed the ginger ale and crackers on the side table. Finally, she sat on the bed. Usually, the silence was comforting, but now it was tense, and you hated it.

“I’m sorry,” you finally said and turned onto your back. “I shouldn’t have said that.” Yelena sighed and grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers with hers.

“I am sorry too,” she apologized. You played with the rings on her fingers.

“Can you help me set up an IV?” You asked. The blond nodded and stood up to grab the bag. While she set everything up, you removed your sweater, leaving you in a tank top. Gloves covered her hands while she disinfected your skin.

“I will try to be gentle,” Yelena mumbled. She was gentle, but you still winced when the needle entered your port. Yelena cooed softly and kissed the side of your head. She hung up the bag of fluid and sat back next to you.

“I forget,” you whispered. “What it feels like for people to care for me, to worry about me, to -” to love me, the words died on your lips. “I’m learning, so I’m sorry.” You sighed and rested your head on her shoulder. “I feel so out of control going through this. My emotions are everywhere, but that does not mean I get to take it out on you.” You felt Yelena let out a long sigh.

“I should not have told you what to do. Instead, I should have asked what you needed. I worry you will lie, so I do not worry.” You sat back and moved your finger under her chin to look at you.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you whispered. Yelena smiled and kissed your forehead.

“I would kiss you properly, but I do not know if you brushed your teeth after you got sick,” she scrunched her nose. “Morning breath I can handle.”

“Shut up,” you laughed and pushed her away on her shoulder. Yelena pouted but cuddled up against you. You closed your eyes and basked in her warmth.

Life was terrifying but a lot brighter with people in it.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Natasha was nursing a glass of whiskey. She enjoyed her time at the Bartons. It was peaceful, quiet, and a reminder of life outside the flight. A life she hoped to have one day. Bucky had his flesh arm wrapped around her shoulders. Day by day, he grew more confident with the metal arm gifted by the Wakandans. Natasha knew better than to rush him. The adults were having a nightcap after the kids went to bed. You and Yelena stayed a lot longer than Natasha thought. Her sister told her you got sick and weren’t feeling the best. From the moment she entered the Barton property, she could tell. You skipped dinner with the group but managed to pull yourself out of bed for movie night and happy hour with the adults. It was impressive how well you hid your illness from Nate - the other Barton kids were attuned to what you were going through. You were the same way with Morgan.

When you retired for the evening, Yelena was quick to join you, but you gave the blonde a look that her sister ignored. The look screamed, ‘Sit and stay.’ It was impossible to talk Yelena out of something when her mind was made up. She was stubborn. Saying a quick goodbye and good night, you both went to your room. Natasha could hear you laughing at something Yelena said.

“I like her,” Laura said once she knew you and Yelena were not within earshot. “She’s special.” Natasha agreed with her. You were special. It took a special type of person to look death in the face and continue to live. Natasha took a long sip of her drink, hoping to hide the growing anxiety in her chest.

However, hiding anything at the Bartons was impossible, something she was grateful for and found annoying. “What is it, Nat?” Clint asked. The Black Widow glared at her friend and then turned her attention to the amber liquid. She circled the liquid in the glass.

“I like her,” she admitted. “I don’t know if I like her and Yelena together.” She hated saying it out loud, but she knew the people here wouldn’t judge.

“Because of the cancer?” Laura questioned. Gods, maybe she was a monster for these thoughts she was having. As you said, it was much more complicated than that.

Her track record of being a good sister was minimal, but she was trying now. She never wanted to see her baby sister heartbroken and hurt. Your death would destroy her. Natasha sighed and downed the rest of her drink. “I want Yelena to be happy, and if she makes her happy, then I’ll accept it,” she felt Bucky squeeze her shoulder—a gentle sign for her to continue. Yelena’s heart is good. I don’t want this to taint it.”

“It?” Clint questioned. “So the kid’s death.” Natasha grimaced at how blunt Clint was.

“Just because she’s not using Morgan’s bone barrow, it doesn’t mean she’s going to die,” Bucky said. “But we have to be realistic about what could happen.” Natasha was grateful Bucky could string together words better than she did then. Natasha leaned forward with her elbows on her knees.

“I told Yelena to listen to her heart,” she told the group. I hope it doesn’t get broken.” Yelena never told her what happened between her and Vicky. She respected her sister enough not to go all Black Widow to find out the truth. But now? How could she be mad at you if you broke her sister’s heart? She couldn’t. She had no idea how to protect Yelena from this type of heartbreak, and it was killing her.

Natasha failed her sister once. She was not going to fail her again.

_

Taglist: @likemick, @averagetmblrusser, @wandaromamoff69, @simpforyelenabelova, @cd-4848, @simpforyelenabelova@nymph0puppp, @sparks123123

[jo-speaks]

dinner

in which…

Quinn and fem! reader go out to dinner!

warnings: none!

fourth date in the alphabet dates series!

“All clear?” You asked from inside the car before taking Quinn’s hand and stepping out. 

He let out a soft laugh, “Yes ma’am. No paparazzi, no fans, no nothing. Just you and me.”

“And the staff.”

“And the staff.” He parroted, shutting the passenger door of his Porche closed. 

It wasn’t a shock when Quinn told you he had set reservations for the Canadian restaurant you had been dying to try since flying out to be with him in Vancouver for the season. He didn’t understand what drew you to the place. It was overwhelming, with its rooftop seating, and its whimsical dishes. 

However, the shock came when he told you it would just be the two of you. He loved keeping your relationship decently private, with a few posted pictures here and there, but mostly keeping it between you and him. 

As much as you wanted to show off your boyfriend to the world, you knew keeping it private was best. It wasn’t like people didn’t know you were his girlfriend, but social media is a vile place. 

You and Quinn walked up the short flight of stairs toward the restaurant entrance, toothy smiles covering both of your faces the whole way up. When you reached the door, Quinn let go of your hand briefly to open the door for you, quickly re-interlacing your fingers with his the second you stepped inside. 

“Excited?” He asked, following your trail of sight as you looked up at the massive chandelier hanging from the ceiling. 

“Very. Thank you.” 

He smiled widely at your response, “I should be thanking you. This view is to die for.”

You assumed he was talking about the breathtaking decor all around the restaurant, but when you flickered your eyes back to his, you realized he was looking at you. 

He eyed your lips, wanting nothing more than to kiss you right then and there. But the second he leaned in, he heard his name being called. 

“Reservation for Hughes?” The hostess asked, holding 2 menus in her hand.

Quinn pulled back, a slight red blush on his face, “Uh, yeah. That’s me.” 

The hostess smiled, “You two can follow me.” 

You laughed softly at his reaction to being caught doing, nothing really. You kissed his lips quickly before tugging his hand gently as the two of you trailed behind the hostess. 

She led you two up the staircase and onto the rooftop. The view from your table was stunning. The sun was meant to be setting in a little less than an hour, so an array of pinks and blues covered the sky. 

“A waiter will be with you in just a moment.” She smiled before walking away. 

Quinn murmured quickly, “Thank you.” before focusing back on you. He didn’t say a word as he took your hand from across the table and gently ran his thumb over the back of your hand. Your eyes met his blue ones, a smile appearing on your face as he admired your features. 

“I’m so lucky to have you, Y/N. You have no idea.” He spoke, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. 

You blushed at his words, “I love you.” 

He didn’t get the chance to say it back before a waiter approached your table with a smile.

~✩~

By the time you had finished your food, the sun was practically set, most of the light in the sky coming from scattered stars. You stood up without a word, walking over to the railing. 

You always knew Vancouver was a beautiful city, but seeing it at night was like nothing you’d ever seen before.

Colourful lights all over the city, the faint sound of street music being played in the distance. Quinn snuck up behind you, his suit-covered arms wrapping around your waist. You felt a shiver in your spine, unsure if it was because of the cool Canadian air, or the feeling of being so close to your boyfriend. 

He rested his chin on your shoulder, his stubble poking at your smooth skin. He tilted his head slightly, placing a sweet kiss on the side of your neck, before turning back to continue admiring the night view with you.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, eh? You look lost in thought.” He asked, softly.

You let out a quiet sigh, “Just thinking about you. About everything I would give to stay here with you forever.”

He smiled against your shoulder as you turned your head slightly to look at him. His eyes darted towards your lips before leaning in to connect your lips for the second time that night. You turned around, holding his face in your hands as his stayed gently on your waist.

The moment could not have been more perfect.

He couldn’t be more perfect.

[turanarin]

Fight for the throne AU (2)

I thought more about Infinite Realms in that AU and below some point (I'm in love with DP×DC, so yeah they are both here). And! I translate it in English and maybe some names, that sounds good in another language, isn't in English, so if you have ideas, I'm glad to hear you!

Life Spheres - this is a reality with living ones, which is separated by a Veil

Kingdoms - are spaces with their own laws and creatures, they are surrounded by their own Veil, but not as strong as between the living and the dead.

There are Lairs/Shelters are like houses of ghosts, mostly very strong. These are Doors, patches of Islands, and maybe Ghost City (f.e. Reverse Gotham)

The Ghost Zone is the space between all written above. It is green, without physical laws, and includes Lairs/Shelters, ruins or forgotten things. Everything works on Intention (if a person wants to fly, then he can give his will and fly like that?)

Infinite Realms are what are called the Realms of the Dead.

Infinite Realms are more based on Souls, spirituality (ofc death is also one of the facets).

There are many entities - ghosts, spirits, spiritualists, yetis, elves, nymphs, fairies, pixies, draugr…. and so on

There are also semi-spiritual entities. Let's say the Planet Tamaran (from where Starfire is from) was on the border with Infinite Realms. The inhabitants of the planet drew energy from ultraviolet light, and the principle of their powers was related to Spirit, Emotions and Intent.

The Guardians of the Universe, who created the Green Lantern Corps, drew power from ectoplasm, filtering it from the energy of death(?). Therefore, Green Lanterns can use this energy from willpower (Intention). The rest of the Buildings also use the energy of the ectoplasm, but with an admixture of emotions, giving a different color.

Infinite Realms is the source of Death Magic (for the dead). They are filled with such magic. For balance, it creates the Life Magic (for the living). This includes the occult, runes, spells, and so on (the Dark Justice League is based on this). Champion of Magic - Shazam/Captain Marvel.

[quibbs126]

I was wondering why I wasn’t getting any notifications for my new art (like I know Tracks isn’t the most well known character, but still), then I remembered that I finished it like 8 minutes before I had to go to work, so that’s why

Well I’m on break now, so might as well write the post

So yeah, I drew Tracks this morning. Saw Auto-Bop, made me realize I think Tracks is pretty neat, and afterwards I proceeded to draw him

It’s mostly based on his g1 design (not that he has many others), though I tweaked the wings a bit to more resemble his Animated self and did my own thing with the helmet. I really wish I was able to do my own thing first try with the rest of the body, but oh well

I also tweaked some colors here and there

He originally had something more similar to a chevron, but I decided to change it and it ended up like this. It’s the wrong angle, but I think it looks good

Also I swear it looks like Knock Out’s helm, but I haven’t looked at his design to check. Tracks also having Breakdown colors and a posh sounding voice really don’t help him beat the KOBD love child allegations, even if he predates both of them (I haven’t even seen the Stunticons yet in g1). I don’t wanna relegate him to that but he does look similar

But yeah for the most part, I’m pretty proud of how he turned out. If only I could give him a proper, more modern redesign. But oh well, not at that level yet

Would be even better if Hasbro just put Tracks into more stuff. He’s a car that can fly, you can use him in stuff. And give him a human bestie like Raoul

[satrs]

I just love your writing.

Could i ask you to expand on this post for some characters?

https://www.tumblr.com/k-azus/721594671067004928/rock-n-roll?source=share

ROCK N’ ROLL 2!

SYNOPSIS; them as band members part 2!

FEATURING; OLIVER AIKU. BAROU SHOEI. ITOSHI SAE. MICHAEL KAISER.

TAGS; NS*FW content. MDNI! fluff but also NS*FW. fem!reader. nicknames(pretty just once,). oral(male receiving).

VOCALIST!KAISER

Kaiser never fails to impress you, whether it is his glamourous performance on stage or the exclusive private shows he gives you, which mostly end up with you underneath him. But you never complain. Being stuck to the side of a popular band's influential and wealthy leading singer does have its perks.

Amazing dates and breath-taking gifts are always on the agenda and there is not one day with you unsatisfied. Of course, the long tours are a struggle for you both to work on, but he makes sure to stay in contact with you his whole free time. And once he's back home? He'll make sure to show you how much he missed you.

"Missed you so much", he mumbled into your next, hips stuttering into yours as shallow breaths escaped him. His hot breath hot on your neck, causing goosebumps to arise on your skin, tingle rushing through your body.

"Your coming with me next time. What do you say?" You nod frantically, eyes screwed shut as you dwell in the pleasure he was drilling into you, cry of pleasure flying past your lips.

He took a handful of your tit in his hand, smirking against your neck at the surprised yelp you let out as his fingers pinched your nipple playfully.

"My biggest fan. Gonna put up one hell of a show if you're there."

LEAD GUITARIST!SAE

Sae is confident in himself and his skills, and you are only boosting his ego when he's taking out his guitar to give you insight into his new angelic melodies as you cheer him on with eyes sparkling in admiration.

"What do you think?" He flashes you a sly smirk, awaiting your answer, getting met with a look o favor from you. "Is that even a question?" He chuckled, getting up to put away the instrument, walking up to you while observing your features.

"Got something on my face?", you teased, smirk creeping up your features as his hand reached to stroke the back of your neck. "No. But I want to kiss you." You smile, craning up your neck to place a quick kiss on his lips, chuckling at his disappointed sigh once you drew back from his mouth.

"Not enough." He mumbled before smashing his lips to yours, laying you on your back in an instant. His hands quickly disappeared into your pants, a relieved sigh escaping you once you felt his fingers tease your wet folds and his thumb firmly circling your clit, your hips bucking up into his touch needily.

His tongue danced along your lips, humming into the kiss in content. "Mhm, way better."

His skillful fingers did not only work wonders on the strings of the giutar, but also between the heat of your legs.

BASSIST!BAROU

"Yeah, I'm free now. What do you wanna do?", he asked, rather rhetorical, smirk not wavering. You shrugged playfully, feet drawing you nearer to him as he raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

"We could go to your place, hang out." He chuckled at that, drawing in a large breath as he scanned the area, all of his members already long gone.

"Just hang out?" He decided to test the waters and by the looks of your amused expression, he did the right decision.

His head hung low, mouth slightly open as his eyes observed the way your head bopped up and down his leangth. Your eyes were fixated on his face just like earlier on stage, where you practrically striped him with just your eyes.

"Stop looking at me like that -fuckkk." His head threw back once your throat contracted around his tip, a low groan escaping him. You lift your head, bright smile plastered on your face as your tongue swirled around his tip, eyes not wavering from his face.

"Why? Do I make you nervous?" You teased him, chuckling once he covered his eyes with his hand, Adam's apple throbbing as he swallowed hard.

"No, not nervous," You could see his face again, expression now overtaken by lust as his hand tangled in your hair, tight grip on it.

"Just more excited."

DRUMMER!OLIVER

"I knew you'd come back." You scoff at him, rolling your eyes at his statement. "No one can get enough of me." You frown as he stepped closer to you, his breath tickling your ear as he leaned down. "Not even you."

You froze, unable to react, breath halting in your lungs. He chuckled at your reaction, backing off while he twirled the drumsticks in his fingers, a playful smirk adoring his handsome features while he took a few steps back. "You still know my place. Just come around sometime."

Your jaw clenched as your blood boiled inside of you because you knew he was right. And he knew you would come.

You felt guilty. Guilty when you stepped in and met his triumphant smile as he invited you in, guilty when you accepted the drink he offered you, and guilty when you let your desire take over you before you climbed into his lap and freed the both of you from your clothes in a hurry.

"Damn, eager as always. Don't worry, you got me all night. Let's make up for the wasted time, mkay?" You couldn't snap at him, not when a shock of pleasure waved over you as you sank down on his shaft, biting your bottom lip as your hips met his, clit earning friction from rubbing against his pelvic bone.

Guilty? Yeah. He was your guilty pleasure.

©︎𝐊-𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐒. all rights reserved. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!

[happy74827]

The Little Things

[Gideon Graves x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Sometimes all it takes is a little bit of love to turn things around.

WC: 2756

Category: Heavy Angst, Happy Ending

I’m actually very proud at how this turned out.

『••✎••』

Gideon had always been a character that you were fascinated by. He was mysterious, powerful, and, of course, had an ego to match. Despite how he seemed to others, you always saw something else behind that sly smile of his. You always felt like there was something about him that you were missing. Something that drew you to him like a magnet.

Oddly enough, the two of you had met through Ramona, and though you were intrigued, you also hated him. The moment you two met, you couldn't get away from him quick enough. The guy just rubbed you the wrong way.

However, you couldn't deny that he had a charm to him. As much as you hated it, you found yourself staring at him sometimes. You couldn't help it when he was around. His aura always made you feel nervous.

Julia had told you that you were living a true "life of the cliche,” and as much as you wanted to tell her that she was full of shit, there was some truth to what she said.

There was something about the man that always made you look twice. You didn't understand what it was, but he made you feel some type of way. It didn’t help when he would seek you out, going as far as to con his way into being with you.

He knew how to push your buttons. So, you knew it would only be a certain amount of time before he found a way in. And thus, that enemies-to-lovers story was written.

The two of you had started off rocky, of course. You always fought, mostly about little things and the occasional heavy blowout. It didn't help that you and Gideon had very different personalities or the fact that he was the most narcissistic person you knew.

But right when you started to smooth out those cracks, it all changed come after the events with Ramona and his league of assholes. He became more work-driven. Less of the Gideon you were used to. You were kind of proud of him for that, but at the same time, you hated that he changed so drastically.

The Gideon you knew was full of snarky remarks, a subtle asshole with a sense of humor, and of course, the constant flirting. You liked to think that that was the Gideon you liked and knew.

The man in front of you now didn't give a shit about anything that wasn't work. He worked until he passed out and only stopped when someone dragged him away from his desk. He even slept there sometimes.

You didn't like how he had become. It hurt you. He wasn't the man you knew anymore. The man you knew was gone, and it made your chest ache.

"Hey," you say softly, coming up behind him and setting a cup of coffee on his desk. He turns his head, his gaze falling on you. You watch as his brows furrow before he looks at the cup of coffee.

"What's this?" He asks, raising a brow.

"It's just a cup of coffee." You reply, sitting across from him at his desk and pulling a sketchbook out of your bag.

"A cup of coffee?" He repeats, picking it up and taking a sip. His brows furrow as he continues to stare at it. He grimaces.

"Too hot, but yeah, coffee. It's the liquid gold of the earth." You smile.

"Liquid gold?" He asks, taking another sip and wincing. "I don't see it."

You shrug, flipping to a blank page in your sketchbook. The old him would’ve said something witty back. He would've made a joke at the expense of your taste in coffee. He’d probably be looking you up and down and saying something about how he knew what he liked in his coffee.

Instead, he was silent, his attention going back to his screen. You look at him for a moment, his fingers flying across his keyboard.

"Do you even sleep?" You ask him, and you swear that you hear him sigh.

"Not when I can help it." He replies, not bothering to look at you.

"Gideon-"

"You shouldn't be here." He cuts you off. You purse your lips together, sighing. When he looked at you for a split second, just a fraction of a second, you could tell that there was something wrong. He had deep bags under his eyes, and it was obvious that he was exhausted. He looked pale like he was sick. You don't think he's slept for the past few days.

"Why don't we go home?" You ask him. "We can work tomorrow."

"No," he says, not even bothering to look up at you.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself," you tell him, standing up and setting your hand on his shoulder. He flinches. "You can't keep pushing yourself to the point of collapse."

"I'm fine," he replies.

"You aren't." You insist. You glance around his office, seeing papers scattered everywhere. He didn't even try to hide the fact that he was overworked.

"I am, and I can't keep this up." He replies.

"Keep what up?" You ask, and when you glance at him, he looks tired. You can see the dark circles under his eyes and his brow furrow as he types away.

"I can't keep you up." He says after a moment, not looking at you. You blink a few times, furrowing your brow.

"What do you mean?" You might ask, but you're already pretty sure what he's referring to. He sighs, running a hand through his hair, stopping it midway, and shaking his head. He slouches in his seat.

"I mean that this is all pointless, isn't it? Why try when the world is ending? Why try when I'll just die alone? When there is no one who cares about me and no one who gives a shit about me." He says, his words bitter, laced with exhaustion. You can see his expression fall. His hands go back to the keyboard, and you furrow your brow as you watch him.

"Gideon..."

"I don't want you to care about me," he snaps. "Why would you want to?"

"I want to because I do care," you tell him. You sigh softly. "Unlike Ramona, I don't see you like that."

"Do not mention her to me. Don't." His tone changes drastically. You watch as he shakes his head. "Don't talk to me."

"Gideon, what's wrong?" You ask, kneeling down beside his desk. You reach out to him, but he smacks your hand away, a look of fury on his face. He glares at you, but you can tell there's something behind his glare. You can see how broken he looks. How much he needs someone right now.

"You're useless," he says bitterly, and it hurts you more than it should. You open your mouth to respond, but he stops you, not wanting to hear it. "Don't say anything."

"I don't want to leave you like this." You tell him, and you can see the way his expression falls.

"I don't care what you want," he tells you, but you can see the way his lips part and the way he looks at you. You watch as he averts his gaze from you. He stares at his screen, his brow furrowed. "Go home."

"Gideon-"

"Please," he says, and the desperation is in his voice. "Just... go."

You watch him for a moment, the pencil in your hands still. You let out a heavy breath, looking down. He wasn’t going to budge; you knew that now. He was set in his ways, and he wasn't going to let you in. You know him well enough to know when he's set in stone.

You sigh, setting your sketchbook and pencil back into your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. You shake your head at him, your gaze soft. "You know where I'll be if you change your mind."

He doesn't reply to you. You press your lips together as you turn on your heel, walking away. You know that he isn't going to find you. He's going to sit there all alone and work himself to death.

You know that no matter how you try, he's going to find a way to push you away. You know that he's going to do what he wants, and he's going to be stubborn.

So you decide to give him his space. You decide to go home and leave him alone. You don't know what you were thinking, coming into his office with coffee. He would never say it but you were hoping you could help.

Maybe if he let his walls down, he would feel better about himself. You know it was too much to ask, but it's what you wanted.

You decide to let him work. You'll just be here, waiting for him to come to you. It's all you can do. It's all you can do to show that you care for him.

That's all you can do, right?

A couple of hours pass by, and you're sitting in your bed, a mug of tea in your hands. Your sketchbook is open in front of you, and you sigh, pressing your fingers to your temple.

You really need to draw something to get out of your headspace, but it doesn't help. It's been an hour, and there are still no new pages of art. The most recent drawing is still the one you drew of Gideon.

He was in his usual attire with his katana against his shoulder. His eyes were glued to the ground in it, a small smile on his lips.

You drew it back when he was still… him. The old him. You were scared to give it to him at the fear of him laughing in your face. Now, you were afraid that he wouldn’t even care.

You sigh softly. You know you have to face the reality that the man you've always liked won't be the man he was again. Not for a while, anyway.

"What am I going to do with you, Gideon?" You murmur, your voice thick with sadness. The tea you were drinking didn't taste as good as you hoped it would. It tasted bitter to you now, and it didn't sit right with you.

You let out a soft sigh and lean back against the headboard of your bed, closing your eyes. You lay there in silence, waiting for the morning to come.

It wouldn't come.

Not with Gideon still overworking himself at his desk. At least, not until he noticed a small piece of paper beside his keyboard. It turns out that when you opened your sketchbook, an old drawing came tumbling out without your knowledge.

It was a super old one, probably one of the first you did of him. You weren’t even talking at that point, just staring from afar as you tried to figure out why you were so attracted to this guy.

You still don't understand, honestly.

But as Gideon stared at the drawing, the insane amount of stress that was on his shoulders seemed to lift for a moment. He glanced towards the door before going back to the drawing, staring at it.

The amount of detail that you put in the drawing shocked him. He almost felt as though he was looking in a mirror—a mirror of his old self.

You got everything right. His hair length, the outfit, the color of his eyes, even the tiny scratches on the lens of his glasses. It was almost eerie how much you got right.

It's the little things you notice about people. The little things you remember.

He remembered that you said that.

You had been in a rather philosophical mood that day. He remembered it because it stuck with him. He'd forgotten that.

"Damn it.” He murmured, folding up the drawing as he glanced at the door. He stared at it for a moment before gently setting the drawing in his pocket. "Why am I like this?"

He knew that you were probably asleep by now, maybe curled up with a cup of tea, but he sighed, reaching over for the telephone.

He was right; of course, you were asleep. But you weren't asleep long.

"You always did have an eye for detail."

He spoke to himself, but you heard enough to know it was him. You didn't move from your place, however. You stayed still as a statue, your eyes closed.

"Gideon?” Your voice was a soft, almost fragile whisper. It was soft, yet it felt like it echoed throughout the entire room. He smiled, but you couldn't see that.

He fell silent for a long time. It seemed like forever, but you knew what he was trying to do. He wanted to hear your voice.

He was desperate for it.

“Yeah,” he replied, a hint of vulnerability in his tone. “Yeah, it’s me.”

There was a slight pause. You didn't reply for a long time. You lay there in the dark, the quiet and the sound of static being the only thing you heard.

But when you spoke, you sounded the same way he did, almost a bit fragile and broken, your tone thick with sadness.

"Why are you different? Why?" You ask, your voice wavering and cracking. You sit up, setting your sketchbook to the side, your fingers gripping your comforter as you wait for him to reply.

He did, and after a moment, his voice was quiet, soft. "I— I don’t know. I really don't."

There was a moment when you couldn't breathe. He sounded so broken and so desperate to be around someone. You wanted to drive back where he was. You wanted to give him the hug you knew he wanted.

"Come home." You say softly.

There was a moment of silence, not an uncomfortable silence, but more of a thoughtfulness. You weren't sure what he was thinking or if he would respond. You were about to pull the phone away from your ear, but you heard his voice again.

"Okay."

It was such a simple answer, but it meant so much to you. It made your heart skip a beat. Your lips parted slightly, but no words came out. It was like you were in shock, frozen solid as you sat in bed.

"For what it’s worth,” he said softly. You can almost picture him looking up at the ceiling with that look in his eye. The one you always saw when he thought about the past. The one where he was vulnerable. Where he didn't feel like the strongest man on earth.

Where he didn't have a mask on.

“I didn’t mean it when I said you were useless. You're not… useless. You're the only one who cares enough to try, and I didn't realize how much that mattered to me."

“Gid-"

"I don’t… say this often, but when I’m wrong, I'm wrong." He says, and you feel your chest ache. He pauses. "So, uh, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," you murmured.

"You deserve better than what I've given you." He tells you, his voice soft.

"Yeah, I do, but I also want you." You confess. "I just want the you I knew before all this bullshit. Even if you were a bit of a dick.”

He laughed softly at your response. "Oh, trust me, I'm still plenty of that."

You laughed softly. You felt yourself relax slightly. He was starting to come back to you, slowly but surely. You smiled softly as you settled back in your bed.

"Forgiven?” He asked after a moment.

"Forgiven." You confirm, and you hear him sigh softly. He's relieved.

You can picture the grin on his face. The one that he wore when he thought he had you wrapped around his finger. It's a nice grin. It makes your heart flutter.

"Hurry up and get back to me." You tell him. "I wanna sleep. You woke me up."

"Alright, alright, fine. I'll see you soon, love." He replied, the nickname making your cheeks flush. He always seemed to know exactly what to say, but now you feel like he's letting his walls down.

"I love you too," you say, and you swear that you hear him sigh softly like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He hung up, but now you didn’t mind because he was coming back to you. The old him was coming back to you.

And you couldn’t wait for it.

[liveontelevision]

Little Lucifer x Reader blurb that's been sitting in my drafts for like 2 weeks my bad yall

♡♡♡

"You know, it's a little embarrassing, I actually had a crush on you when I first came to the hotel." You try to laugh it off, giggling between the lines of a ludicrous thought.

A crush?

On the King of Hell?

I mean, come on.

Oh, but he had to bite his tongue. Hard. He needed to play it off just like you were. By the time he had processed the information, your back was facing him, already engaged in some other conversation with Angel Dust.

You treated it like just a passing thought, a little qwip to make your friends laugh. But that's not what really bugged Lucifer. No, it was the past tense of it all. What could've turned your feelings rotten? Were you so sure that nothing could happen? That it wasn't even a possibility? Why did those feelings vanish?

What did I do wrong?

"You're gonna catch a fly, your majesty!" An accent accompanies the phrase that finally snaps him out of his fog. Angel Dust sends you and the bartender into a little fit of snickers.

He was in fact sitting mouth open, eyes wide. He was hoping he could play it off by simply not mentioning it allowed, but his body betrayed him. He let his thoughts run over the arrogance he should've been feeling- as the sin of pride- so he goes with that.

"Of course, you had a crush on me! I'm The King of Hell, I'm sure all that power can be quite alluring. And my smile, obviously." His daring smirk he holds slowly fades when he hears a scoff passing your lips.

"Yeah, obviously." You roll your eyes at his words, leaning against the counter. Your nonchalant demeanor seems to make Lucifer shrink. "But, no, really.. it was, uh... your sense of humor, and how flustered you'd get around Alastor- you'd get so red in the face," you're still laughing through your words, not noticing the shine in Lucifer's eyes just from the sound of it.

"And just.. you care so much, you know? About Charlie and the hotel, even those little ducks.. You put your heart into everything, and it shows." Lucifer swears the room had disapated around the two of you. With a flushed face, mostly due to the drinks - you'd never be so bold while sober - you're smiling at him so sweetly, he could get lost in just the way your lips curl. How your eyes squint and how your cheeks puff just a little when you fully grin.

A snort snaps both of you out of it.

"So, you like how he's a dad, huh? Is that it? Got a thing for dilfs-" You immediately push Angel from his stool as he starts yapping about some modern lingo Lucifer doesn't quite understand.

"What's that now?" Lucifer cocks his head to the side, watching you scramble and wrestle your hand over Angel's mouth.

"Nothing!" You blurt out quickly.

Moving on!

"B-But yeah, it's not a big deal, It was just a little crush. Besides, you're like a 10,000 year old angel, a king. Plus, I saw your ring-" Damn it. He finds himself placing his right hand overtop his left. "-and that kind of helped me get over it faster.. no harm, no foul!" You finish quickly.

"Well, we're not exactly together anymore." He said those words so fast that it brings everyone's attention to him. The thought of some newfound gossip drew Angel in, but the idea that Lucifer might be correcting you? That he's trying to argue the reasoning you gave as to why you can't like him? You feel your breath start to shallow.

"No shit! Got some marital problems with queenie? Give us the deets, your highness!" Angel is leaning on the back of his hands, eagerly awaiting the beans that Lucifer was apparently meant to spill. He looks around the lobby before sighing and tapping his finger absentmindedly. His claw against the metal wedding band makes a quiet tick-tick-ticking.

"O-Oh jeez.. uh..." before he can fret any further, the sensation of a warm palm overtop his fidgeting hands brings him a sense of dread and relief.

"You don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to." You speak softly, aiming to sooth and also give a little privacy from the nosy guest behind you. And while he appreciates your sincerity, he needs you to understand.

"No no, I brought it up in the first place. But, uh.. you know, we've been together since Eden and 10,000 years is a long time. So.. we just drifted apart.. and sometimes..." Lucifer's eyes drop with his hesitant words. You weren't sure if he was reminiscing of fond times or regretting them with the face he was making. But then, his eyes come up to meet yours.

"Sometimes, people change."

[cherryatombomb]

Idiot's Guide to Proposals by Simon Riley

John "Soap" MacTavish x Simon "Ghost" Riley

also an ao3!! the second part in the series. no archive warnings apply beyond brief mentions of abuse from ghost's backstory

Ghost loved Soap. Simon loved Johnny. The sky was blue. Scorpions glow under UV light. These were, of course, evident truths of the world. They were just as obvious as breathing, at least to Simon. He thought about these things a lot – mostly the love part, of course. The scorpions were still interesting.  

Right now, Johnny tucked against his side, his mohawk a mess, drool seeping out the corner of his mouth, Simon could only think about how much he loved him. There were signs of aging slightly more obvious, now – a touch of grey in his hair, crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes, and it made something ache within him. Not that any aging had stopped Johnny from being, well, Johnny. He was still as energetic as ever, putting him through his paces near enough every day. He brought excitement to his life every day.  

He wasn’t sure he could ever get sick of it.  

His hands shifted, skimming over his partner’s shoulders. Shirtless, because he was a bundle of heat, but he could never bring himself to complain. Well, maybe in summer, but it was a fucking rarity it ever got warm enough to complain about in England. His fingers traced over the scar on his shoulder, a memory of Las Almas, of the concern that had unwittingly flooded him at the thought of losing him. The beginning of the end, at least of Ghost’s attempt to be distant. He’d never been more relieved that things hadn’t gone how he’d planned.  

His reminiscing was cut off by a sudden, sharp alarm, and a groan escaped the man asleep next to him. “S’too fuckin’ early, Si, you’re a madman,” he grouched, burying his head into the crook of his neck and looping an arm around his waist. Simon’s lips twitched in amusement, running one soothing hand over his shoulders, whilst the other fumbled to turn his alarm off.  

“Running in the morning is-” 

“Nice and peaceful and there’s no idiots to bug you, I know,” Soap cut him off, continuing to grouch. He did him the luxury of pretending he couldn’t feel the small smile pressed against his neck.  

“Exactly,” he hummed, his other hand now moving to ruffle Johnny’s hair. The man reached up to swat it away lazily, only settling when both of Simon’s arms were looped around his back. “Sometimes, you can see the geese flying, too.” 

“The geese?” 

“Yeah. They fly in a ‘V’ formation. You know why one side is longer than the other?” 

Soap lifted his head, eyes still soft with sleep, a mixture of curiosity and suspicion in his eyes. “... Why?” 

“Because there’s more geese on that side.” 

Soap stared at him, his curiosity dissipating into joking frustration, and he groaned once more. Rolling over, he buried his head into the pillow. Simon pretended not to notice the slight shake of his shoulders as he laughed. “You’re an evil man,” He informed him, “Go do your fuckin’ run, I’m going to sleep, like a normal person.” 

A chuckle was drawn from him, and Simon sat up, smoothing the other man’s hair before he pressed a kiss to his shoulder. Then, he drew back, standing and making his way over to the wardrobe. Most of Soap’s stuff was strewn over the floor lazily, clothes crumpled and creased, but he liked to keep his neat. He grabbed a hoodie, trousers, gloves, and his mask, sliding them on. After a quick trip to the bathroom, he made his way out, appreciating the cool air of the morning against his skin.  

His run around the grounds was somewhat brief – the frost that had settled made it slippery in places, and he didn’t want to make a fool of himself quite so early. After getting his fill, he returned to base, stopping off at his room to switch out some of his clothes. The bed was empty, the duvet mussed up and thrown to the side, and he smiled to himself as he fixed it.  

After cleaning their room, he slipped back out, heading to the kitchen area, tilting his head at the sound of voices. They were sharing their base with another team for some training exercises, and though he grumbled internally at the amount of new people here, he couldn’t deny that it was useful practice.  

Soap was in the centre of the kitchen, pouring himself a bowl of cereal, animatedly talking about... something. There were two others watching – a small, wiry woman, the sniper of the other group, and a tall, muscular blond. Both looked enraptured, laughing as his partner flapped a hand out, only to nudge his bowl precariously close to the edge, nearly knocking it over.  

It looked domestic. It looked almost normal. There it was, another ache in his heart, an almost physical pain. Simon wanted this. He wanted more of this. He didn’t want adrenaline, and fights, and combat, he wanted Johnny, still ruffled with sleep, smiling widely and preparing his own breakfast. He wanted mornings where they could sleep in, and a home with him, together, and all the nice things that came with it.  

The thought threw him off kilter. There was a time, long ago, when he’d given up on the idea of domesticity. He was 7, wide-eyed and innocent, begging his brother to help as they sat in their bedroom upstairs, listening to the shouting downstairs. Marriage was a lie. It shackled you to someone else, and it left you unsafe. Relationships were unsafe. He built walls so impenetrable he figured nobody would ever make a dent.  

Of course he should’ve known. Soap was a demolitions expert, after all. Blowing shit up was his forte.  

Their eyes met, and Simon felt the air sucked out of his lungs. He spun around, and swiftly made a tactical retreat out of the room. What was he thinking? Marriage? He wasn’t a marriage guy.  

... But he couldn’t deny, now that he’d given it a word, how much he wanted it. He wanted it so much it hurt. He wasn’t a marriage guy, but he wasn’t a relationship guy, either, and he’d somehow made it work.  

Finding himself instinctively back in their room, he grabbed a knife from one of their drawers, flipping it around his fingers as he thought. How the hell were you supposed to propose? How did you know what ring was right? Where do you propose? He was fucking useless in this matter. And it wasn’t like he could ask anybody for help – Gaz had been going steady for a while with his partner, but they weren’t anywhere close to being married. Price was married to the job, according to him. Soap was... well, the marriage candidate. He didn’t even know if Alex and Farah were a thing, or if they were just close friends. 

Simon had a very short group of friends. It was fucking awful.  

Just as he was about to give up all hope, he finally remembered the one married person he knew – Laswell. It was perfect. She could help. Definitely. He just... had to ask. And swear her to secrecy, because Soap couldn’t know. It had to be a surprise.  

He placed his knife down, pressed his head into his hands, and groaned. Maybe he was an idiot for thinking this. Things were good as they were – why ruin them? 

But then again... the thought felt so nice. No. He was going to do it. He was going to ask Johnny to marry him.  

He just had to figure out how.  

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 15

Happy WIP Wednesday! (Ignores the fact that it's almost an hour into Thursday my time.)

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.2k

-----

“Shit. Okay. I’ll fly us back. Bye Tim, everyone!” Danny picked up Tucker and flew away, turning invisible before he was more than a few yards away.

Tim sighed as he watched them. “Invisibility would be such a useful power. Paired with intangibility? Do you have any idea how much that’d help us out in Gotham?”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Cassie dismissively. “So what’re we doing for the next few hours?”

Wulf cocked his head and looked at them. Tim waved to him. “Let’s see what we can find out from our maybe-friend here.” Then, to Wulf, he asked, “Walker?”

Wulf’s bemused expression turned angry and he snarled.

Tim laughed and gave a thumbs up to show his agreement. “I’ve”—he pointed at himself—“heard”—this time his ears—“bad”—he scowled—“things about Walker.”

“Malbono,” said Wulf.

Tim grinned. “Very malbono,” he agreed.

Wulf bared his teeth, but this time, Tim thought it was more of a grin.

Cassie sat down on the ground. “So, Wulf and Danny are both targeted by this Walker ghost. How do we keep them safe?”

Tim shrugged. To Wulf, he said, “We”—pointing to him and his friends—“keep you”— pointing to Wulf—“safe. Secure. Protect.” Hopefully at least one of those words would be similar enough to the Esperanto word for the same concept.

“Protekti,” agreed Wulf.

Bart pointed at himself. “One.” Then to Conner, “Two.” Tim was called three and Cassie four. With a stick, he drew a crude figure of Danny’s ghost form, Sam, and Tucker, counting each one to seven. Then he pointed to Wulf. “Eight.” He drew the number in the dirt to reinforce the count. “Walker, how many?” He lifted his hands in an I-don’t-know gesture.

Wulf started with his hands close and slowly spread them wide. “Multaj.”

Tim’s stomach sank at the answer. They’d faced bad odds before, but it was never good.

“What does Walker want?” asked Conner.

But Wulf only looked at him in confusion and none of them could figure out how to ask that in charades.

Cassie grabbed another stick and began drawing. She started with a line and on one side, she had humanoid ghosts with tails instead of legs, on the other side she had stick figures. Then she drew arrows from the ghost side to the human side. Under the arrows, she drew question marks. Looking up, she asked, “How?”

Wulf bared his teeth again and pointed at himself. “Wulf.” He flexed his hand showing off his claws. Conner tensed at the action, but Wulf ignored him. Instead, he drew his hand down the air. Tim felt like he could hear tearing, but it was as if the sound originated in his brain, bypassing his ears entirely.

In the path of Wulf’s claws was a glowing green portal. Another gesture and it disappeared.

Tim stared in wonder. “So, if you’re here and with us, Walker can’t send any more ghosts to Amity. That makes things so much easier.”

Wulf only grinned at him.

Bart poked Tim’s side. “Think he needs to eat?”

Tim laughed. “You’re just hungry yourself. He’s already dead.”

Bart shrugged. “We haven’t had lunch yet.”

“I’m with Bart,” said Cassie. “I’m getting hungry. And it’d be rude to not offer anything to him. Bart, get us stuff from that burger place Danny took us to. And grab extra in case our new friend wants anything.”

Tim rummaged around in his bag and pulled out two hundred dollars cash. All three of his friends had metabolisms to match their powers. “Here, get as much as you want. Simple cheeseburger and fries for me.”

The others gave their orders and Bart was off.

The rest of the afternoon was spent mostly hanging out in the woods with Wulf. When Bart had offered him a burger, he’d sniffed it before pulling a face and giving it back. Bart just shrugged and ate it himself.

“Shouldn’t you be doing homework?” Conner asked Tim after a while. They’d run through most of the questions they could ask via pantomime and Bart and Cassie had taken to pointing at things and asking what they were called in Esperanto. “Bruce won’t be happy with you.”

Tim sighed. “No, you’re right. If we can’t research in the library, I should do something productive.”

Though it only took an hour and a half of going through his schoolwork for Tim to want to tear his own hair out. He slammed his book shut, making four pairs of eyes instantly fly to him.

“I can’t do this anymore! I can’t wait until I don’t need to be in school anymore. Who wants to spar with me?”

Conner stepped forward. “I’ll take the first round.”

“Great. I’m going to use the staff Danny gave me. I want to practice with it more.”

Wulf watched them as they sparred. Tim held his own against Conner, though ultimately the half-Kryptonian won. Cassie beat him next.

Bart sat the spars out because he won every time if allowed to fight. But he made a very good referee.

Tim and Cassie were having their third match of the day when Danny, Sam, and Tucker rejoined them.

Tim was breathing hard as he blocked another blow from Cassie with his staff. “Hey, Danny,” he said. Then he did a twist he’d learned from Dick coupled with a move he’d learned from Lady Shiva and Cassie was flat on her back. Tim grinned as he offered her a hand to help her up. “Looks like I win the last match of the day.”

“Well I won our two previous ones,” retorted Cassie as she took his hand.

Sam let out a whistle. “Damn, that was impressive. Where’d you learn to fight like that?”

“B sent me to Europe for several months to train from a bunch of different masters when I forced him to take me on.”

“Must’ve been good teachers if you can hold your own as a regular human against metas.”

Tim nodded and moved so he could nudge Danny. “I’ve been trying to convince this one to join me for a few weekends so I could get him some training, but he’d rather rely on luck and his powers.”

Danny rolled his eyes and scoffed. “You know that’s not what it is. I’m just afraid that if I leave any more often than I have to, something will happen!”

“Sure, sure,” said Tim. “But now that your parents know me and I can see just how bad it is, I’ll be coming to you to train you. No getting out of it now!”

Danny just groaned.

Tucker grinned. “Let me know when you come, and I’ll fit your training sessions into Danny’s schedule.”

“Absolutely.”

Sam pointed her thumb at Wulf. “So, how’re we gonna sneak a giant ghost through town and into my house anyway?”

Danny shrugged. “I figured he and I could fly there invisibly. I’ll drop my invisibility and enter through the door so your parents or grandma see me enter, and Wulf will drop it once we’re in private.”

“Fine, fine. Come on, then.”

-----

Next

In the show, there was a time skip between when Danny caught up with Wulf during his school lunch period and the four (Danny, Sam, Tucker, Wulf) all cramming into Tucker's bedroom that night. So I have no idea if Danny returned to school or not. And if he did, what did Wulf do all afternoon and evening? How did they meet up again? Or am I right and Danny skipped?

Good thing we have other people here to help out this time and it doesn't matter!

I no longer do tag lists for this fic, but please checkout the Subscription Post if you want notifications when this updates.

[matrixbearer2024]

I currently have two AUs that I don't exactly know what to do with or what to properly call them LMFAO- I'll probably write something on Ao3 for it eventually since there's a ton of BillFord and FiddStan in there but yeah-

1st AU: Timelord Stanford (Dr Who what if)

This case was inspired by an RP I had with someone's Bill Cipher on @gftimelord where the triangle starts to be on the mend with Stanford after their ruined past. This to me makes sense because the Doctor is inherently very lonely despite the savior god complex. In that AU where Ford is functionally immortal and Stan and Fidds both at some point die due to his complacency and arrogance— he searches for a companion that can actually keep up with him.

So when Bill visits him during one of those window hours set by the Theraprism, they talk about the triangle's impending demise with their plans to essentially erase him from existence. It's not an outlandish idea given that any inpatient seen as a lost cause would or could be disposed of when it comes to cosmic entities. It's simply the easier option.

The doctor(Ford) is more impulsive, nonchalant, and egoistic compared to his counterparts because he does have the walk to back his talk(this man has been broken by the nightmares and guilt he carries from the deaths he caused; also time war) problem being he doesn't fear death as much as he fears being alone. He's had a fair share of close calls with the grim reaper, but always like some horrible twist he survives. After all, it is a saying that we covet the most what we don't have.

So yeah, he jailbreaks Bill essentially and whatever power limiter is stuck on the triangle get tied to his sonic screwdriver instead and they simply go around the multiverse doing whatever. Most of the reason why Ford isn't caught yet largely has to do with how scared most entities are of him. The doctor is never armed, but it doesn't mean he won't kill.

2nd AU: Modern Era AU (Set in 2024)

This one is more of a shitpost thanks to the young trio I drew a little while back, I'll draw more of them for this at some point while I also try and figure out a decent human Bill design that I like in my artstyle.

But this AU heavily features these four idiots as Undergrad students fucking about college life as they would. This AU is supposed to feature like a more cultivated genius Stanley based around my own dynamic with my brother since I do like me some happy Stan twins.

It just so happens that Ford is also a very much EQ negative idiot and falls for an upperclassman(one year his senior) in BSSE[Software Engineering] who is a close friend to Fidds. He goes by 'Cipher' as an alias since he's a prodigy for his age and very young ethical hacker.

So yes, that's where Bill comes in. Haven't figured out what I want his full name to be yet shoot me some ideas! Ford is very shy when it comes down to talking with Bill whereas Stan is completely chill.

Both Stan and Bill get along very well in this AU because they're similarly chaotic the same way that Fidds and Ford get along because they're the ones holding the other two back from doing something undeniably stupid for shits and giggles.

All of them share some fundamental subjects together(i.e. Math, Biology, Chemistry, Physics, Statistics, Research, History, etc.) or take elective courses just so they could chill together. Stan is typically the one who adjusts to the schedule of the other three since he takes BSBA[Business Administration] and is the odd one out when Ford does BSCMB[Cellular Molecular Biology] and Fidds does BSEE[Electrical Engineering].

The FiddleStan in this AU is gonna be c r a z y mostly due to Fidds in this AU is the heir to his family's computer company, so lowkey spoiled nepo baby but also on a very tight leash with his parents. Stan is the kid where 90% of his childhood was parents either forgot him or straight up did not give a flying fuck. So these two kinda work as complements and it's why I decided to pair them together after chatting with a friend about the group dynamics.

So yeah, simpy and adoring Ford and silently aware but shy Bill + rebellious Fidds and supportive Stan. All the more when I actually plan for this AU to have some typical gravity falls shenanigans anyway thanks to a place on earth called the Oregon Vortex.

[I'll likely make fics and comics of these AUs, reply to this post if you want to be tagged for whenever I post something]

Yeah I need to properly name these AUs.

[alena-draws]

Little rambling under the cut- nothing negative, just written down thoughts about doing art to help formulate them for myself. (It's as confusing as it sounds)

The thing is, I can never really decide what I really (like, really) want to pursue in art. (Though, I have just come to the conclusion that me being online writing about art instead of doing it is probably one of the reasons! I'm too much online, gotta change that) But! What I want to say is...there's just so much I'm interested in? Every time I learn more about a think, I'm like "Fuck I want to learn how to do that, too". I bought myself the AMB animation online class (which I haven't fnished) when I was in my 4th semester of bachelor- animation is super cool, I loved how it helped me immensely with my anatomy and overall character drawing. It's also given me my first job opportunity at the end of college so that's good, too! Lately, I've bought and watched the Storyboarding class by Petra Popescu on Domestika- if you are interested in Storyboarding, it's a direct recommend!! I have always done comics and made a short trailer film as my final project, but I never really learned Storyboarding as well as it is described in this short course, and it is so fascinating (yes, I ALSO still need to finish those exercises though). But you see where this is getting...I'm not finished though haha. After I watched some videos from the Draftsmen and read through the book "Color and Light" by James Gurney I was so fascinated by oil paintings and color, that I tried out oil colors for myself (admittedly, I haven't done a lot). I love creating scenes, too, and I love the amazing backgrounds from Avatar The Last Airbender, and I'm thinking about doing some more background work (especially since I did have a job interview for a background art position- didn't get it, but they did seem to like my examples enough to ask me, so I'm happy about that). Oh and I'm also doing character designs for another project...Look, (I say mostly to myself and the poor souls still reading this) I don't want to brag with the amount of stuff here, because while I might be decent with some, I'm not a real expert on any of those. But I'm not sure if doing everything a bit and nothing really stone-focused is really the best way? On the other hand, I try to keep in mind on what to work best regarding what could get me jobs, even if that's not my main interest-now? Only that my focus keeps constantly shifting from one thing to another because everything sounds so enticing and then everything is only half-finished...hmm. One thing is for sure, less online time and more actually doing away from the computer to work that out. But, to end this overly confusing text of more or less incoherent thoughts as they come to me: I do like that I find so many aspects fascinating, because art is so cool and imagine you can drew pretty pictures and characters and even do a story! I feel like a very dumb bumblebee flying from one pretty flower to the next without ever really landing. Hm, that kinda works as a metaphor. But Yeah, this is also the reason why I created a friggin new portfolio for each new application. I wonder where this will eventually land me. I'm slowly starting as a childrens' book illustator now, which is sweet, too, but I know that that's not all I would like to do. Howevery, I'm still in a lucky and pretty privileged position to do any of this so I'm not complaining! Just wondering. Bumblebee out.