#yeah mucks responses are great

[fallow-grove]

It is quite a bit harder to come up with stuff to send you, as opposed to muck, who is really fun to tease; and also because your taste in people is atrocious, and my suggestive anons are way too high quality.

Please stand by while I come up with something.

ok hunter thank you hunter

[sleepy-planet]

hello goofy may i request some red guy x reader fluff i want to see how he will react when i braid his hair x3

Hey silly <3 /p N ofc!!

It's hot, isn't it?

Red guy x reader

Warnings: Pure fluff!

You sat upon the red felt couch, breathing in the afternoon air of the scenery. You gazed out onto the living room, smiling at the warmth even as precipitation slicked your forehead to a slightly uncomfortable amount.

You twiddled your fingers, looking over at the smart boy you called your wonderful boyfriend. He turned his head, slightly, indicating he was glancing at you. you chuckled, before a wonderful idea popped into your head.

"Honey?" You asked with every amount of sweetness you could muster, only to hear a monotone hum in response. "What exactly did you have planned...for...today?" You slurred your words ever so slightly, well, a bit more than slightly, as you were sure you ere melting under this humid weather.

"I have reading to do." A curt response from Red, as you simply got up and walked over, standing in front of the behemoth of yarn. "Sure is hot, with all that...hair, hm?" You still had no idea what to call the things protruding from his head. "Yeah, only a tad."

Well, your time to propose your oh so wonderful idea came forth. "I can braid it for you." "Oh, you don't have-" You cut him off, your eyes intensifying as your lips curled up in a not so subtle way. "I want to braid it for you." You heard him sigh, before he moved to the floor in approval. success!

You took great pleasure in sitting in his chair. You took the "hair" into your fingers, admiring the texture, before getting into your pattern, your hand submitting to the symphony of your mind's memory of creating a wonderful braid. You smiled warmly at his scalp, as minutes ticked by, the both of you entranced in the moment.

Just you, him, and the sticky air. oh, and the other two who were bickering about something in the kitchen. You only caught every other seventh word, they were talking so fast. You had turned them into white noise, static, as an aura of calm washed over you and Red, bathing you both and swirling over your skin. maybe it was just the heat getting to you, but you could swear you could hear low, rumbling noise coming from the scalp beneath you.

After a few more moments of admiring your symphony of twisting and twirling, you got up and kneeled before him, looking up at his teeth. Wow, those are some gnashers. You took his face in your hands, pressing your lips above his mouth, humming. He gently wrapped his hand around your wrist, a hot warmth coming from the puppet. "Stop mucking around, dear." That nickname brought a warmth to your face, and not from the weather.

The two of you leaned closer, breathing softly as you were drawn closer. You watched him gently brush his hand over his braids, humming in sincere love. "It's hot, isn't it?" you nodded slowly, sluggishly leaning into an embrace. He set his chin on your head, before bringing his book back up. "I..Have reading to do.." Darn.

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Christmas Reruns 2024–Day 28: New York Christmas Serenade (2/4)

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t!  One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia.  A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns.  So here you go!  Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Word Count: 1453

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 29 30 31

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

CS Genre: Canon Divergence (missing year between 3a and 3b)

Killian felt an unaccustomed stab of nervousness flow through him as he walked the steps leading toward Swan’s abode.  He knew very little of what was transpiring in Storybrooke, only that the kingdom had once again been transported to the Land Without Magic via a curse and they needed the savior. 

Much was riding on Killian’s success in restoring Emma’s memories, and he felt the weight of the responsibility placed upon his shoulders.  While he’d have traded away the Jolly and done all in his power to find Swan simply for her own sake, the fact that her parents were counting on him spurred him on even more.  It had been centuries since he’d truly belonged anywhere and he had no intention of mucking this up.

Truthfully it was a minor miracle she’d invited him to spend the evening with her and the lad at all, but from what he’d gathered as he’d wandered the streets of this strange place called “New York” Christmas was a time for miracles.

Taking a deep breath, Killian raised his artificial hand and wrapped on her apartment door promptly at 7:00 pm.  He tapped his fingers against his leg as he waited, and then suddenly the door was opened and she stood there and literally took his breath away.  She wore a soft green sweater that brought out her eyes, jeans and brown boots, her hair was pulled back into a soft pony tail.

“You’re stunning, love,” he said in wonder—almost reverence.  His heart rate picked up as he saw her color prettily at the compliment.  If he didn’t know better, he’d swear Emma Swan was flustered by his presence in her home.

“Thanks,” she said, “you look pretty good yourself.”

Killian looked down at his black jeans, his blue button down shirt and his leather jacket, glad he’d thought to find attire more suitable to his environs. 

“Aye, well..” he said, giving her a flirtatious grin, “I have been called dashingly handsome, love.”

She rolled her eyes but laughed softly, breathily.  Killian leaned toward her, drawn to her, wishing nothing more than to repeat their mind-blowing kiss on Neverland.  For a moment, Emma leaned forward, lifted her head.  Was she actually going to allow him to kiss her?

“Hey guys, are you coming in soon?” came Henry’s voice from the kitchen, “I’m starving.”

And with that the spell was over.  Emma took a healthy step back, held onto the door and waved him in.  “Yeah, um…” she said, “come in.  Dinner’s ready.”

Killian obliged, shedding his jacket and placing it on the rack beside the door.  He looked around in interest, admiring the large, open feel of the apartment, impressed with the large, well decorated pine tree in the corner near the windows, enjoying the delectable aromas wafting in from the kitchen.

“It smells tasty, love,” Killian said, taking the seat Henry indicated at the head of the table.  “Did you prepare our meal yourself.”

Henry laughed.  “Mom doesn’t cook; especially on Christmas!  Of any day of the year, we ought to at least have edible food on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.”

“Excuse me?” Emma said feigning great offense.  “You better watch yourself, Kid.  Santa’s still watching.  Don’t want to get on the naughty list.”

Henry grinned.  “Hey, I’m only telling the truth.  I’d say being honest ought to keep me on the nice list.  But seriously, Killian, we had our dinner catered from this little Italian place down the street.  They have the best spaghetti and meatballs you’ve ever eaten!”

Killian smiled at the playful ribbing between mother and son.  Though he knew his Swan would wish to have her memories and know the truth, he was grateful to the Queen for giving her and the lad such pleasant memories and such a close relationship in their false life.

“I’ve no doubt but that you’re right, Henry,” Killian said, taking the bowl of long, thin pasta Swan passed him. He placed a healthy serving on his place, and then topped it with the red sauce placed before him on the table.  “As it happens, this is the first time I’ve ever consumed this particular dish.”

Both Swan and her lad stopped what they were doing and shot him astonished looks.  “You’ve never eaten spaghetti and meatballs before?” Henry asked.

“Not even once.”

“Well are you in for a Christmas treat!” Henry assured him as he began to eat with typical preteen gusto.

And as Killian ate his meal of spaghetti and meatballs, salad and garlic bread, he had to admit the lad was correct—although whether it was the deliciousness of the food or the pleasantness of the company he enjoyed most was a matter for some debate.  As the evening continued, Swan lost the last hint of her nervous awkwardness and began talking and laughing with him—far more open than she’d ever before been in his presence.

After dinner, Killian followed the lad into the living room to choose a movie for the evening, after which came a ritual that left Henry nearly writhing in excitement.

“We open most of our gifts on Christmas morning,” Emma told Killian as Henry rushed toward the tree, carefully picking up each of the brightly wrapped packages which bore his name, shaking them, looking them over, weighing them in his hands, “but a few years ago, the kid talked me into starting a Swan family tradition of him getting one of his presents on Christmas Eve.  Choose carefully, kid.”

And suddenly, with the mention of gifts for the occasion of Christmas, Killian came up with a plan.  What if he was able to jog the lad’s memories?  With Henry on his side, perhaps the two of them could find a way to remind Emma who she truly was.

Killian grinned as Henry opened his chosen gift.  The lad’s enthusiasm and exuberance were contagious.

“The video game I wanted!” Henry said as soon as the bright, colorful paper was ripped away.  “Thanks mom!  This is great!”

Emma ruffled his hair.  “No problem kid,” she said.  “And just you wait.  You may be an expert at the other games, but I’m determined I’m going to beat you at this one!”

“Sounds like a challenge to me, lad,” Killian said teasingly, reaching over to playfully squeeze Swan’s shoulder from her perch beside him on the couch.  “Are you going to let it go unanswered?”

“No way!” Henry said.  “You’ll see, mom!  You may be good catching real bad guys, but I’ve got the video bad guys quaking in their boots!  Can I play it now?  Please?”

Before Emma could answer, Killian put a up his artificial hand.  “Just a moment, lad,” he said.  “If you please, I have my own gifts to bestow.”

“Killian,” Emma said, looking over at him, “you didn’t need to…”

“Nonsense, love,” he answered.  “You were so kind as to allow me to share your holiday.  The least I can do is offer a few small tokens of my gratitude.”

“Seriously, we don’t expect…” Emma began again, but this time she was interrupted by her son.

“Did you bring me something?” he asked Killian, stepping up to him.

“Indeed I did, lad,” Killian said, reaching for his satchel.  “If I don’t miss my guess, you have the heart of a true believer.  The truest believer, even.  I thought perhaps you might find joy in perusing the stories of other heroes and believers.”

With a flourish, Killian pulled Henry’s old storybook from his bag and presented it to the boy.  It was this book that had ignited Henry’s belief the first time.  Was it possible the item would do the trick for a second time?

Henry accepted the offering, muttering a quick “Thank you,” before peering in confusion at the tome.

“A storybook?” Henry asked, brow furrowed.

“Aye,” Killian said, “a storybook, but I hope you’ll find it so very much more.  Go on lad, open it.”

Killian watched eagerly as Henry opened the book to the story of his grandparents.  He hadn’t long to wait.  Henry couldn’t have read more than a paragraph before his eyes got wide as saucers and he quickly looked up at Killian.

“Hook!” he said slowly.  “I…I remember!”

Waves of relief covered Killian like a blanket.  He may still have quite the uphill task in front of him, but for the first time since finding his beloved Swan in her apartment home, Killian knew without a doubt that he would.

–Up next: Emma wakes up on Christmas morning—and ends up spending a very pleasant full day with both her son and the pirate she doesn’t yet remember she had feelings for.

NEXT CHAPTER->

[zombietoilets2234]

New attempt at writing. Tell me your opinions and feedback thanks and enjoy.

It was late in the evening. I was driving home from work after a hard day. You see I had just gotten fired after some complaints from customers about my hygiene. I'm six foot two inches heavy weight and I don't like to shower. Never seen the need to, as I like my smell and am very proud of it. I guess other people are afraid of the smell of real men, because my boss called me to his office and fired me, there loss. Anyway I'm driving down the road with the windows down. It's a hot summers day and the AC is broken I can feel my sweat collecting in my underwear and my armpits.

I'm in the middle of the country and on the side of me are miles of farmland and ranches. Cows graze lazily in the fields the hefty aroma of cow pies wafting into my nose, God I love that smell there is something so earthy and sweet smelling that just makes me want to take a deep breath and revel in it. As I pass this real flat stretch of empty fields my car starts making this grinding screeching sound and smoke starts to billow out of the hood. Just great something more to top off this perfect day. Grumbling I pull over getting out of the car I pop the hood to check what's going on. DAMN over heated the engine. So after wiping the sweat off my brow I hefted up my pants and started back to one of the one of ranch houses I saw coming down this way. It was twenty minutes till I reached the nearest one grumpy and out of breath I knocked on the door and waited for a response. Looking around I started noticing the scenery this was a nice small house blue in color with white trim but this was tiny compared to the giant blue barn behind it. These people seemed to be horse ranchers because there were horses running back and forth in the fields. Looking at them and noting the big round balls on some of them my guess was a stallion ranch. Almost drooling on myself I couldn't help watching those balls swing back and forth while they Galloped about . That's when the door opens and out comes what I hope is the ranch master he's tall about 6,5 nice and chiseled with gorgeous blue eyes and a beard and belly to match.

Drinking him in I look him up and down noticing the considerable bulge in his pants. Guess the stallions weren't the only ones who were hung. Evening sir sorry to bother you at this time but my car broke down just up the road so you mind if I trouble you for a glass of water and to use your phone as mine doesn't work out this way. By the way my name is Ethan what's yours. I stretch out my hand to give Him a hand shake. Nice to meet you Ethan my name Dean. He took my hand and shook it. So can I use your phone I asked again not wanting to let his hand go wishing those hands were stroking my cock as he fucked me with his hidden monster. Yeh sure no problem, come on in he said with a smirk. Thanks nice place you got here sir. You here by yourself. Yeah he said just me and the horses and a couple of stable hands who come in and take care of the feedings and mucking out every couple of days but they're not here right now. Oh so no misses in your life I asked hoping he was on my side. No, no misses don't have the time to look right now disappointed with his answer I asked where his phone was. over there by the fireplace on that end table. Oh thanks just one moment.

After calling for a towing truck I hung up and asked Him for some water and if he minded I stayed till the tow truck arrived. No problem how long will they be you think. Well they said it may be a couple hours because they only have one person in right now. Well make yourself comfortable on that couch and here is some water and I have beer in the fridge if you want something stronger. Thanks I would love a beer so he went back into the kitchen and grabbed two beers and into mine he placed something I didn't see. He hands me the beer and I take a good draft from it burping rather loudly ugh that was good it's got to be 110 degrees out there right now man I said. 113 actually he said hottest day of the year so far. No shit I said staring to feel sleepy well hope you don't mind but I need to take a nap I'm exhausted. He just shrugged and said no problem I'll wake you when the tow truck arrives. With that I close my eyes and drift off into nothingness.

After what feels like hours later with a jerk I open my eyes things are blurry and my brain is sluggish what first comes to my mind is I can't move I'm in a bent over state my feet wide apart and something forced down into my throat. groaning I try to focus my mind but a headache is making it hard. What first comes in is the smell of horses and the deep earthy smell of road apples. Hey look who's finally awake. Its Dean he's grinning ear the ear. Well aren't you just perfect I needed a new one after the last one was sold to my friend. You see I need you to be my horses new slave and that means your the new fuck toy for them .

End of part one of you want a part two let me know

[skoulsons]

TLOU ep6 | I did not fix these up at all, so have fun reading any and all misspellings and parts where it looks like my brain is melting (it was)

FIDHEOFHSKDVim so excited

he’s so pretty

“What did I just say?” grumpy lil dad with his disobeying daughter

Joel’s having ptsd :( cant wait to get more of this throughout the episode :) not.

he really thinks he lost the last of his blood

this feels very reminiscent of when he gets injured. Later this episode??

(Light guitar playing) my love <3

“Don’t start” 😭

THE RABBIT CONVERSATJON. they rlly are bonding

the tape over his foot :( just like Tess

COME DOWN FEOM THERE YOURE GONNA BRRAK TOUR NECK

YEAHHHH HES GIVING HER SOME. HES GOT A LIL SMILEEEE

“Okay?” 😭

OH ITS WE ?? :((

an old farmhouse some land :(( just like tlou2

SHEEP THEURE QUIET DO WHAT THEYRE TOLD. sooo tlou2 coded

them acting like they’re going their separate ways 🤣🤣🤣

ASTRONAUT. he could just tell :(

I love this little campfire with them

ILL DO BOTH WATCHES GET SOME SLEEP DREAM OF SHEEP RANCHES ON THE MOON

IS HE SAYINF ITS SHPPOSED TO BE ME OH MY FUCODHENDHDJEDH

IM RESPONSIBLE FOR YOU OKAY

LIKE YOU TAUGHT ME TO

aw it’s like the same when he took the beretta from her in ep4 THE SHOT IS SO SIMILAR WITH HIS HAND OUT BUT ITS NOT AS ANGRY THIS TIME

the glances :(

wake me up next time <3

NOT HER TRYING TO WISTLE 😭😭

TALENTTTT

they’re just so so tiny.

and to know she has to hunt to keep him alive next episode

THEYRE DOIJF THR HYDROELECTRIC PLANT??? WAIT???

“Don’t ask me I don’t have a clue” YOU COULDBE MADE SOMETHING UP I WOULDBE BELIEVED YOU

THERE THEY AREEEEEE

him grabbing her wrist <333333333

YOULL BE OKAY MY GOGHDJDGD I LOVE REASSURANCES

oh look a puppo

oh no he’s gonna smell it

JOELS OANICKING????

oh good we’re good okay we’re good

oh wow the outside wall looks so good

Oh man jackson looks so so so good

gosh this is so great

HER LOOKING BACK AT JOEL CAUSE SHES SMILING

TOMMYYYYYYYY

OH LOOK AT JOELS FACE

TOMMYS LAUGH

look at Ellie :(( she’s never seen him so happy or hug someone

HIS SMILR MY FODHEKFHEKDV LOOK AT HIM SMILE LOOK AR MY SWEET LITTTLR BLORBO

JOEL APOLOGZING FOR ELLIE. LETS MIND OUR MANNERS

“WHATS WRONG WITH YOU” 😭😭

“Ellie!” He’s so frustarted 😭😭

sometimes he sounds like such a texan it’s hilarious

JOEL SAY CONGRATS. CONGRATS.

seven years ago wow

CAN YOU TEACH ME HOW NO HE CANT

SHEEEEEEP

oh so they have a council

300 people? Wow

SO UH COMMUNISM

SHIMMER NO WAY NO WAY

EMPTY HOUSE ACROSS THE STREET

“We’ve been doing fine”

“Joel” “you’ll be fine” much like the game in the hydroelectric plant

“You on the other hand”

BACON PSHOOO

so how’s Tess :( SHES FINE. ALRIGHT.

ANS THE KID?? OH YEAH. AHES THE DAUGHTER OF SOME FIREFLY MUCKETY MUCK.

U OF EC

weeks ride south ok

it’ll be easy for us

WHAT CAUSE TOUR WIFI WONT LET YOU. SHE KEPT HIM OFF THE RADIO??

am I the wrong people :(

and I don’t judge you for it. We survived the only way we knew how. But there were other ways we just didn’t know how

IM GONNA BE A FATHERS. A FEW MONTHS ALONG. WRITE ON THIS?!

Fuck

I FEEL LIKE ID BE A GOOD DAD

GUESS WELL FIND OUT

JUST BECAUSE LIFE STOPPED FOR YOU. SARAH BEINF LIFE. WRITE ON THISSSSS

yeah this is Christmas time isn’t it cause it’s September.when they met?? oooh he must be reminded so much of old Christmas with Sarah

oh not the little girls. HE PROBABLT BENT DOWN AND HUGGED SARAH JUSF LIKE THAT

unless they’re pulling the whole Alyssa card??

A NOTE WITH IM ACTOSS THE STREET 😭😭

THEY HAVE RANCH ARGUMENT IN HERE?????

even her sweater is similar to ranch argument wow

their house is blue how cute

OH WOW A BOARD FOR SARAH?? Ans kevin??

“World class salons” 😭

AWWW SHE GETTING A HAIRCUT

“I put bad guys in jail”

FUCK SHE DOESNT KNOW ABOUT SATAH

FUCK RUCK FUCK

SARAH WAS JOELS FAUGHTER

FUCK

“I GUESS THAT EXPLAINS HIM A LITTLE” THATS WHAT I SAIDDDDD

picture picture please picture

she really doesn’t trust him at all. But Ellie does and she doesn’t believe Maria’s word

they really got a while movie theater

WORK BENCH

are we having another argument

new boots :(

the way he’s holding his hands is giving major nervous vibes

“I shouldn’t have said what I said” - just like Joel last episode

“It’s complicated for you. And I’m sorry”

Is it a suicide mission?

HE LOOKS SO TINY 🤏🏻🤏🏻

“She’s immune”

THE WAY HE SAID ELLIE FEELS SOOOOO GAMEJOEL

“SHES IMMUNE” HE LOKKS SOOOOOOO

Below is the root of my mental illness.

“Tess got bit. She made me swear to take the kid. It was her dying wish, what was I supposed to do? WE MADE IT AD FAR AS KC AND THEN YNOW !SHE SAVED MY LIFE THERE! FROM ANOTHER KID. FIVE YEARS AGO I WOULDVE DESTRYOED HIM. BUT SHE HAD TO SHOOT HIM TO SAVE ME. FOURTEEN YEARS OLD. BECAUSE I WAS TOO SLOW AND TOO FUCKING DEAF TO HEAR HIM. THEN I SAW A MAN KILL HIS OWN BROTHER. **he’s crying whatfuckfuck** TO SAVE HER WHILE INJUST WATCHED. AND TODAY I THOUGHT THAT DOG WAS GONNA TEAR HER APART BECAUSE IT SMELLED SOMETBINF ON HER. AND ALL INDID WAS STAND THERE. I **COULTN MOVE** I COULDNT THINK OF ANYTHING EXCPET JUST. I WAS SO AFRAID. ANS HIS DHAKY BREATH. WHAT THE FUCK. IM NOT WHO INWAS. IM WEAK. ***LATELY THERE ARE THESE MOMENTS WHERE FEAR COMES UP OUT OF NOWHERE AND MT HEART FEELS LIKE ITS STOPPED. I HAVE DREAMS. EVERY NIGHT. INDONT KNOW. I CANT REMEMBER. I JSUF KNOW THAT WHEN I WAKE UP IVE LOST SOMETHING. IM FAILING IN MY SLEEP. ITS ALL I DO. ITS ALL IHE EVER DONE IS FAIL HER AGAIN AND AGAIN. ****IM JUSF GONNA GER HER KILLED I KNOW IT***

******I HAVE TO LEAVE HER****

WELL HERES TOUR FHANVE TO BRING YOUR KID INTO A BETTER WORL. YOURE TOUNGER THAN ME YOURE ATILL STRONG. YOU SAID IT YOURSELF YOULL COME BACK. YOU HAVE TO TSKE HER AND THE CRYINF AND THR SHAKY BREATH FUCKSHDNFIFJ

he loves her so much ellie. got it’s written all over his face. he loves her SO MUCU AND HE CANF DO IT

“They’ll shoot her” AND THE BOICD CRACK WAYT FCUKC. HE THREATENEE TO SHOOT HER EVERY SCENE AND NOW??;?);?4)?;!:?;?

IFS THE LAS THING ILL EVER ASK OF YOU. I SAEAR.

thr fucking falling tear you’re fucking joking. LET HIM BE FUCKING HAPPY.

he’s literally shaking.

I’ll take her out at dawn.

hea gonna go say goodbye and they argue that’s what happens right.

the slow walk up. fuck duck fuck fuck tuck

“Ellie?

if you’re gonna ditch me ditch me

I HAVE TO LEAVE HER TOU HAVE TO TAKE HER

I MADE THIS DECISION FOR YOUR OWN GOOD

DO YOU GIHR A SHIT ABOUT ME OR NOT. OF COURSE I DO WAHT THR FUCK.

the slight face change at ‘her’. wow.

IM AFRIAD OF LOSINF YOUUUU

THE SNIFFLE. HEBDOESNT WANT TO DONTHIS

WRITE ON ALL OF THIS WRITE ON ALL ODNTHIS

Joel :(((

FLASHBACKL WHATDBS FUCKC

you can really see his nose scar wow

SARAH :((

so this is what they were talking about.

NOT HIM CRUINF FUCK OFF HES CRIED SOMKUCU TOFAY

HOW DOES HE TAKE HER HAXK HOW DOES HE TAKE HER BACK HOWWWW WE DOIN IT

is Joel here.

YEAH.

SNIFFLES ANYWAY.

YOU DESERVE A CHOICE. LETS GO.

that was fast 😭

Helping her up 😭😭

the eye close :(

BOTH OF YOU BTHERES A PLAGE HERE

LOOK HOW HAPPT SHE IS

ADIOS BIG BROTHER 😭😭

HER HANDS AROUKD HIS MIDDLE HER HANDS AROUKD HIS MIDDLE HER HANDS AROUND HIS MIDDLE

AWWWWWWWWWWWW

This is so fuckinf cute.

GOU DICK

HIS SMILE

FUCKI

I just did my job. WHIHC WAS BUILDING

SINGER???

THATS PRETTY COOL

HER CHEEK AGAINST HIS BACK HER CHEEK AGAISNF HIS FBSKDHEKHDKHD HER CHEESL AGAISNF HIS BACK AND HIS SMILE

THE FOOTBALL CONVERSATION

“But violent” 😭

we end on his injury don’t we

HIS LITTLE SMILES AT HER

“One step closer to you dream”

“Sort of adults”

WHATTHEY WANTED TO DO WITH THEIR LIVES THSTS FROM THR GAMEEEE

I WANGWS RO BE A SINGER. YOURE ALREADY ALIGHING. YOURE SIGNING FOR Me later. ITS THE LEAST YOU CAN DO FAIR ENOUGH.

FIRST TIME SEEIN A MONKEY IN THR GAMMEEEE

“Lookit” <3

this set looks so good

oh wow even that’s from the game oh wow

oh I can’t wait for the Instagram edits of these two after this episode

HIS GACE WHEN SHE SAIS THEY TURNED INTO MONKEYS

RAIDERSSSSS

THE HEADBUTT

YEAHHHB CHOKE HIM OUR JOEL

YEAHHHH CRACK HIS BECK JOEL FUCK YEAH

FUCK BE DUD IMPALE HIM STILL MY GOD

GOGOGOGOGOGO

JOEL OPEN YOUR EYEW OPEN YOUR EYES YOU GOTTA GET UP I CANF GET SO THIS WIRHOUT YOU INDONT KNOW WHWRE IM GOING

JOEL PLEASE JOEL PLEASE

IM TAKINF A RIDE WITH MY BEST FRIEND

[mousathe14]

So I enjoyed Netflix’s One Piece adaptation. It’s got a lot of structural problems that are a result of an 8 episode series that should’ve been 10. Especially incorporating so much of Garp, Koby, and Helmeppo.

The flashbacks are misplaced in how scattered they are, and by that I mean Luffy and Zoro’s. Zoro’s backstory interrupting what should’ve been Usopp’s episode is especially egregious. And if this show had 2 extra episodes that flashback could’ve been pushed into a Shells Town 2-parter.

And that would free up space for Django, who I didn’t think I’d miss but we kinda needed him to help Usopp prove himself. I find it so strange that they decided to elevate the Nyanban siblings. Like, they elevated the Nyanbans really well, I liked them more here than I ever did in the manga, but that shouldn’t have come at the cost of Django.

But the adaptationsl changes mostly do a disservice to Sanji and Usopp whose stories and characters aren’t fully realized and they aren’t as incorporated into the crew.

Everyone’s doing a stellar performance. Except Nami, but that’s not a fault of the actor. I know that her personality changes are writing and direction based. Her personality is so toned down it’s almost non-existent, and she isn’t having fun. Nami, like the rest of the crew, is supposed to be weird and annoying. She’s bratty, self serving, and steals from you with a wink and a smile. Yeah her money grubbing is a trauma response but it’s one she’s embraced and even she doesn’t take it seriously half the time, it’s just a way to mess around with her friends.

But Live Action Nami is too subdued and I feel like that’s a result of a belief that certain character archetypes don’t translate well. Which I disagree with. I think they went the easy way out with something conventional mainstream audiences are more comfortable with, which is a shame.

And going to be trouble if they can even get to a season 2 and have to establish some sort of contrast between her and Nico Robin who is the actual subdued and mature woman character of the crew. Being darkly understated is kind of her thing that makes her stand out in this cast of bigger personalities.

But whatever, that’s the future unknown and possibly never known. Let’s talk Usopp and Sanji, who felt like bystanders in their own stories, Usopp mostly. But both he and Sanji joining the crew doesn’t quite hit fully and I know it’s because they didn’t get enough material, and that’s a shame.

But we know they don’t have enough time and material because of the focus on the KobyMeppo diary adventures which are great but we get too much of it. And I like Garp, I understand wanting to use him as much as possible, especially when casted so perfectly. And I never knew I needed to see him talking with Chef Zeff but I did and I was glad to have it. But every minute added is another minute taken away, and I feel like structurally they misallocated some of that time.

Fun show though, so glad they didn’t muck it up. The bar was low and expectations were exceeded. As far as western live action adaptations of manga are concerned, we’ve come a very long way.

[boneheadboner]

Error can't catch a break in the Depths in Despair UTMV

This is absolute stupid crack shit I came up with, to sum up Error's experience throughout the stories I have planned.

SUFFICE TO SAY? Spoilers for the shit I'll write eventually.

Error: [Has kidnapped Sonia from her universe] Well this fucking sucks. Error: This stupid anomaly exists when she's supposed to be a dead NPC in literally every iteration of her existence. Sonia: Uhhh, hellooo, I have a name??? Error: AND this stupid anomaly has been mucking around in the main universe. Error: You know what we do with those? Sonia: Uhhh... Let them live? Error: NOPE! We Delete them. Sonia: [Being deleted] Hey, this is actually pretty painful? Can you maybe not-- Error: This is taking too long. Error: Whatever, it's already in process of happening, it'll do it's thing. Error: I gotta go get rid of more anomalies and flip off Ink, seeya. Sonia: ... Well this sucks. Sonia: I hoped at least it would be quick, but... this is... Extremely painful. Sonia: Well... At least no one has to see me go out... Snafu (Error!Paps): [POPS IN] OHHAI THERE~! [ An indeterminate amount of time later] Error: [Comes back to the antivoid]

Error: Welp, that was fun. Error: Alright, time for some Undernovella. Error: Error: Error: Error: I sense a disturbance in the force. [Peeks at different AUs by changing the channel.] Error: [Finds out that not only did he fail to delete Sonia... But he has fucked up so much, that now he's essentially caused new divergences of AUs to crop up. Because there's now fragments of the bitch he tried to delete that wound up IN those AUs to cause the divergences.] Error: Error: Oh shit. Error: Error: Oh fuck. Error: Oh shit fuck fuck fuck fuck Error: Error: Error: I can't let Ink find out about this. Error: he's NEVER going to let me live it down!!! [Petty manchild self proclaimed god of destruction goes on warpath to hunt down every damn fragment to delete... Only to find out they keep glitching out and sending fragments of their memory to other remaining living fragments.] Error: S$#% f*$& #*&$# S*%$&Y#(* of a %#$*$R#*& thank fuck Ink didn't notice-- Ink: OHAI RURU Error: Please die, also is that a new swap you have? Ink: LMAO yeah we've had him for 2 weeks! He's fucked up! Blue, this is Ruru! He's the multiverse God of Destruction! Blue: ERRR... GREAT WAY TO LET A GUY KNOW HE'S A RED SHIRT. Dream: Ink, that's insensitive, and Error, don't you dare. You already are at least 80% responsible for the last 5 swaps we've had dusting. Blue: [deadpan] WOWZERS, YOU ALL HAVE SUCH HIGH HOPES FOR ME. Error: .... LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO Error: Hey, hey pissbaby, guess what?! Error: When I'm done thrashing you idiots? Error: I'm going to stop by your universe and say hi to your brother! Error: And then I'll delete the whole mistake of a universe~! Blue: [Drops the cheerful tone] 'Scuse me? Error: And I'll make sure he's the last person I delete!!! LMAO Ink: Ohhh, Ruru always says these things, he's so funny!!! Bwahahaha~!! Dream: [UNSETTLED] Uh, Blue, don't do anything-- Error: What? Gonna cry?? Error: Gonna beg me not to??? Error: Gonna piss yourself before you dust from a SOULattack?? Error: LMAOOOOOOO---[Proceeds to get fucking OPM'd through 3 goddamn buildings, as Blue gravityhax'd close to him before punching him] Dream: UHHH-- Ink: [Trying to bodyblock Blue from Error's path] Aw Bluuuue, he was just playiiii-- Blue: [Completely dead tone] Ink? Get between me and him, And you're next. Ink: .... OKAY~! [STEPS ASIDE] Blue: [Proceeds to catch up EZPZ through gravity hax, to Error while he is Yamcha'd on the ground.] Blue: [Grabs the back of Error's head, and starts slamming his face into the pavement in a move to (almost successfully) turn Error's face into an empty cavity]

Error: [FINALLY recovers from the shock of the first hit, and tries to defend himself with his strings] Blue: [Proceeds to loop those strings quickly around his own arm, and then loop them around Error's neck. Blue starts pulling on it in a move to either strangle Error, or sever his head off from how hard he's pulling it.] Error: HEY THAT'S CHEA%$*T(&%($#$#&*$#@(&#@* Blue: [completely dead tone] You listen to me, pal. Blue: Monster, Immortal, god, I don't care what you are. Blue: If you so much as breathe the same universe's air that my little brother breathes? Error: Blue: I'm going to break your metatarsals and metacarpals, and slowly work my way up. Blue: Bit by bit, bone by bone, Until all that's left of you is a skull. Error: Blue:[Cheerful tone] OH, BUT DON'T WORRY. YOU'RE A GOD, RIGHT? THOSE ARE SUPPOSED TO BE IMMORTAL LAST I CHECKED~. Error: Blue:[completely dead tone again] And that means I can wait for all those bones to grow back, just to break them all over again. Error: Blue: You're going to wish you were mortal, just so that way death could save you from me.

Error: Blue: [CHEERFUL TONE] SO, JUST SO WE'RE CLEAR? [Dead tone] stay the fuck away from my little brother. Error: [Clawing desperately at the strings around his neck, dealing with being overwhelmed by physical contact] eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee Blue: Understood? [Cheery] GOOD~! GLAD WE COULD HAVE THAT TALK~. YOU'RE SUCH A GOOD LISTENER, MR. ERROR. [Gives the strings one LAST harsh pull, before letting go of them] Error: [IMMEDIATELY SCAMPERS AWAY FROM BLUE] AAA$#$@%@%@A#$@&(*$*@^^!@*&AAA#(^!@*&(%^#AAAA@&(%$@AAAA(^(#)@*&^ Blue: [Smug as SHIT] Error: [Teleports up into the air, before tearing a hole to the Anti-void quick and using his scarf to hide his absolutely shattered and crumpled in nose and busted teeth] Error: $#*%&@(@ @*#&@(&%!@)(%@ FUCK YOU Error: FUCK YOU, YOU SUCK. Blue: Shucks, pal. Whip it out so I can. Error: !!!!!!!!! Error: *&$^#*&$^@ #$*@&(#&( FUCK ING WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?! Blue: A lot. Want me to get the list??? Error: $#&^*$#^&*%^@*^%&*@ SCREW THAT I'M OUT. [YEETS HIMSELF INTO THE ANTIVOID, CLOSING IT BEHIND HIM] Ink: [Catches up, missing ALL of the shit Blue just subjected Error to] Ink: HI BLUE!!! Where did Ruru go? Blue: OH, HE JUST LEFT~! Dream: [Catches up as well] BLUE ARE YOU OKAY?! Blue: OF COURSE~! SHUCKS, YOU SHOULD SEE THE OTHER GUY! LIKE WOWZERS, I THINK I FELT HIS NASAL BONE BUST. Dream: ..... Ink: .... Dream: ... [A bit horrified] Oh by the stars... Ink: ... DID YOU GET A PICTURE??? Wow!!! Ruru with a busted in nasal bone, I never thought of that!!! I wanna draw it, but I don't know what one looks like. Blue: ... WOWZERS, AND YOU SAID I WAS A LITTLE FUCKED UP! Ink: Hey Dream-- Dream: NO, Ink, just... No. Ink: But-- Dream: We are NOT seeking out a busted human skull just for you to get an idea of what that might look like. Ink: Awwwwwwwwwwh Blue: ..... So is it like... A sex thing orrrrrrrrrr??? Dream: Hyperfixation, actually... Ink: OH, I'VE DRAWN SEVERAL GOOD PICTURES OF RURU'S PPs!!! WANNA SEE?! Dream: Ink no-- Blue: ... You SURE that isn't a sex thing???? Dream: [Facepalming] Ink: [Is happy screeching because Blue didn't give him a no] [MEANWHILE, IN THE ANTIVOID] Error: [Fuckign sobbing while listening to Christina Aguilera's "Beautiful"] Error: THIS IS FUCKING BULLSHIT Error: I GOT THRASHED BY A SWAP Error: A SWAP!!!! Error: [GROSS SOBBING] Error: I CAN'T FEEL MY NASAL BONE, AND MY TEETH ARE LOOSE. Error: WHAT THE FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK [MORE GROSS SOBBING] I AM BEAUTIFUL, NO MATTER WHAT THEY SAYY... WORDS CAN'T-- Ink: [Has gotten in somehow] OHHAI RURU~! Error: [THE LOUDEST GLITCH SCREAMING OF TERROR]

[the-firebird69]

There are a couple things we can mention

-Trump's fleet that came out trying for Earth has been cut and more than half it started out at about 450 billion and now it is down to about 190 billion and it is getting cut down quite steadily not as fast they have some big chips and big weapons and they're trying to use them and it shut down each time and they throw like madness they'll all hit all at once in one area so it's slowed down and they are making them rude comments when they heat up to get hit but we anticipate them trying to move shortly and then sitting on the radio and we do our number then greatly

-the other fleet was at 750 billion early this morning very early now it's at about 490 billion roughly I'm told $450 billion that is small compared to Tommy f he is pretty big out there I think we know what will happen there's been communications from bja to Saturn in a penny and they can't help it they need help finishes we're not doing any good here and he said that their friends in the forgieners will go in and they will and he went over to evidence and said we believe they will but that's in the way it's just a mess in your face both so he is preparing to break away a very decent size Force and that Force is going to be attacking Tommy f not Trump they're moving out shortly to try and sign up and it's not too far to go they have around 3 or 400 billion ships and I guess we'll see when they come out other companies are going with them the miscellaneous Max and a hundred billion and Trump's forces at about 200 billion so it's about $700 billion but they would be joining up with about 500 billion really is $600 billion and that's 1.3 trillion every facing 2.5 trillion they might call their Force back that still has about 280 billion it's that force was pretty big now this is going to happen in the next 20 minutes possibly to fight Tommy f and they're rolling the pseudo empire has only about 100 billion.

These factors in a couple more make today humongous. These pseudo empire is moving down but boy do they suck they really are not uncorking really they're not filtering out the silt they don't plan to they don't believe it and stuff like that they just look at a couple of tunnels it went untouched and they're really gross there's some older ones and the ships are gone and they're still in there around Florida is three of those and they're only a year older but the muck is stirred up in the acids all over them and it's a simple study and we are going to have to move down now and the max too and they might do it first that's a wait and see thing and also

-these idiots are going to fight each other Tommy f and the idiots and our son and daughter side coming we saw it a long time ago but for them to see it's pretty good and they said that they're using these morons against us in order to get positioning that they need them calling the fleet out of Saturn it's not really ideal and because foreigners will move in but they are splitting the foreign fleet and that's the bad thing too so it is the empire and they are doing it and so we have to find ways to use these idiots against them all I can think of is taking the shifts and that's what they're using it for and to take the planets and the groups responsibility for their fruition especially Trump and people like him that's what we're noting and yeah they're divided and that's the empire's work

-couple of things these Sonos kids here need a lesson and a big one we need to stop fooling around with them and take them down and throw them out this battle might be a reason why things are going to change or how they're not evenly matched but Tommy will have damage on his Force oh it's two to one and the warlocks don't have anything great they have a lot of people have been sitting there might be aggressive but we think that they will like Tommy f feel it and out of his 2.5 trillion you might lose half a billion but he's good to gain all those chocolate chips Thor prayer

[scentofgenocide]

Not only did I lose you,

I lost myself too.

Fears on my pillow,

Under the unlucky Jew.

I don’t know why it all tumbled out as it did, sadness and spite. Too much truth. You talk too much. You interrupt too much. You said too much. Spiky and stuttered. can’t even spit it out. When you do spit it out, it’s just blood and salt. You know he’ll just turn it on you, right? You’ll get close and then you’re responsible for him. You’re already responsible for him. When people talk against him, you’re ready to fight. You never felt that way about your other fathers. You never wanted to defend their honor. What honor? You turn to an angry dog, rabid and feral.

Through some weird, twisted, fucked up psychic event, it all came tumbling out. The lost years. The grief, the anger.

I heard him say though, “I’d like to hear your story, for personal reasons…” and trail off. I don’t even know why I’m having trouble writing this. It was a chasm. It was a canyon. It was a forest full of branches and sand.

I don’t know why they are intertwined in my mind. There’s crossover. I will recount it, as best as I can, because it was significant.

The non-binary student mentioned their family stuff to him, getting in touch with their half brother, the similarities. They mentioned ties to Israel and Berlin, grandparents they never knew. I was taken aback, and out it tumbled:

Hope yours goes better than mine. We have remarkably similar stories. Wow. Yeah, my dad’s from Israel. Abandoned me as a kid. Didn’t hear from him for many years. I’m adopted. He got back in touch 25 years later.

And he paused, in his measured, lanky baritone, “if you’re comfortable talking about it, I’d like to know more. For personal reasons.” I know he meant his daughter. The missing piece. The dark places, the loose threads. And the non-binary student interrupted. That was supposed to be our talk. It’s not the students fault I bleed all over. It’s not their fault my story went awry. It’s no one’s fault. But I’m furious, furious, furious.

He and I walked outside, and I just. It all came out. The anger, the frustration. I could hear it dripping on the pavement like melting snow, thinking too myself, stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it, this will only be used against you. You took everything over and you let it fly. Muck, slime, bile. Blood. So much blood.

He asked why my dad got in touch. I said I’ve probed, I’ve asked, and he just isn’t forthcoming. I’ve asked about my grandparents. I told him he just writes to me about all the great vacations they go on. He clipped in his funny German dry humor, “oh, well, that’s great. Why would he do that? Why would be even get in touch?” Reiterate. I don’t know.

I saw him listen, I saw him show compassion, I saw him struggle not to linger longer.

I Said that Ive asked about my grandparents and the Holocaust, and gotten no answer. He said maybe my dad didn’t even know. Many people didn’t talk about it. I said I knew, but I wish my dad would tell me the truth. I bristled a bit, he apologized. It’s not your fault, I said, it’s just frustrating.

However, when we parted, I could feel him a bit shaken, maybe a bit rattled. Maybe someday you’ll ache like I ache. I could be projecting. Maybe he isn’t thinking about me at all. Probably not. Maybe.

This journey plagues me like an illness, a blister, it opens and festers,

But perhaps most acutely

I love him even more

[wwhatev3r]

Easy Company Reading Thirst Tweets 

WARNING: Extremely crude, sexual and suggestive language.

Notes: I was watching some of this videos and I got this terrible idea. I hope this is good. A big shoutout to @toyes-lipring because she helped with Toye’s one.

– Dick Winters - He understands everything but he takes the sexual filter out of every message.  Fan: “I don’t know what I would do to salute Winter’s Dick with my hand.” - "Maybe go back to school, you got the name wrong.”

– Lewis Nixon - He's so confused. His face is literally the definition of "wtf", but he's enjoying it. Fan: "Mr Nixon I’ll turn myself into a Vat 69 for you. P.S: Be my sugar daddy." - "Yeah, I’ll take the Vat but the sugar daddy thing It's not gonna happen. I’ll pay for a therapy session though.” 

– Carwood lipton: Lip doesn't understand the slang and the abbreviations, but he’s flattered that people find him attractive. Fan: “I would let that First Sergeant break in half and creampie-me.” - "C-creampie-...? What's that? Wha-... why do you want me to break you in half? I'm not doing that. What are kids consuming these days?” 

– Ronald Speirs - Reads every message with a dead expression. Fan: “Ronald Speirs could light me on fire, suck me and then throw me on the floor like a cigarette and I would thank him.” - "I'm free saturday. Don't forget to thank me. Next.”

– George Luz - He👏is👏loving👏it👏!!  Literally having a blast. Fan: “Luz my love, I'll let you grab my fanny.” - "You see? These are my kind of people. Thank you! I'll gladly grab ya fanny."

– Joe Liebgott - He’s definitely flirting back and loving the most aggressive messages. Fan: ”I would kill someone to sit on Joe Liebgott’s face.” - “Yeah, I have a pretty big nose, so you can see it on it if you want, but you would probably have that pretty ass of yours sittin in prison” he says with a grin. 

– William ‘Bill’ Guarnere - He’s either laughing or flirting back. Fan: “Willy Billy be wild with me, run me over with your car when you’re free.” - “Jesus! That would do a great song. Let’s do that while I sing it, hey?” he says before one of his typical laughs “hehehehe.” 

– Joe Toye -  He’s seriously traumatized by some of them, but he’s still trying to answer the questions seriously. Fan: “Toye could toy me with those brass knuckles and would still give him a drink.” - “W-... Why would you want that? It ain't nice bein on the other side of the brass knuckles. But hey, I’ll definitely take that drink.”

– Donald Malarkey - He’s being optimistic and not taking it seriously. Fan: “I would let Don break my spine like a glow stick with those goddamn arms and definitely eat some Malarkey.” - “You would? Should I take that as a compliment? About the glow stick… I really don’t want to do that to your spine but… thanks?” he says with an awkward smile.

– Warren “Skip” Muck - He’s the sweetest. He’s reading everything with a big smile and thanking everyone for the compliments. Fan: “Skippy let me be your socks.” - “Anw, that’s very sweet! That way you could warm my feet, neck, hands and b-... oh.” 

– Darrel “Shifty” Powers - This baby is so innocent and the biggest gentleman. Fan: “Don’t get fooled by Shifty's pretty face, I know he would spit in my mouth if I asked him nicely.” - “Uh-... That’s not very nice. I would never do such a thing, but thank you very much for calling me pretty.” he says all flustered. 

– Eugene Roe - He’s gets all flustered but he’s pretending they are not sexual. Fan: “Eugene Roe saying scissors is my new kink, I almost get a heart attack every time I hear it.”  - “I don’t want to be responsible for any heart attacks so I will never say the word “Scissors” again.” (He knows what he’s doing.) 

– Edward Babe Heffron - He’s a little traumatized by the end of it but he likes the flirting from the fans. Fan: “Babe come and babe my bussy.” “Bûssi? Boussi? What’s a bãsi? Oh, It’s a-... You fucking weirdo! I love that.” he instantly starts laughing. 

– David Webster - He gets uncomfortable with the messages and quickly ignores them but he doesn’t even understand what he’s reading with most of them. Fan: “I’m learning German to match Web’s tongue with mine.” - “I appreciate that but you should learn German because It’s a beautiful language and not because I spea-... Oh, I get it now.” 

– Frank Perconte - He absolutely LOVES his simps. He simps for himself. Fan: “I’m 6’0, that shortass could suck on my tiddies while standing and even live under them if he wants to.” - “Yeahhh!! Send a ticket and let’s do that.” 

– Bull Randleman - He’s simply taking everything as an innocent joke and playing along with a sweet smile. Fan: “I would fully dress myself in red just for Bull to fucking destroy me in bed.” - “Would you like that? Really? Well, we’ll see that later.” he says after a chuckle.

– Johnny Martin - He’s seriously concerned and has never been more serious. Fan: “Johnny boy, because of you now I have daddy issues. Thank you, it was worth it.” - “Is this serious? How old are you? Who are you calling boy? Don’t you fucking me blame me for your daddy issues, was your dad who left to go buy goddamn cigarettes, not me.” 

– Floyd Talbert - That’s his new hobby. By the end of the day he has scheduled more than 10 dates. Fan: “Daddy Talbert please make me a single mother.” - “I’ll fix that, just look at me long enough and there you have it.” he winks at the camera with a smirk.

[erodasfishtacos]

#HendallReunited

prompt: request was to write broad but to write something angsty

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: language, sexual content, angst

Harry always had issues with saying ‘no’ to people. He never quite grew out of his manners even when he should have.

He said ‘yes’ to way too many things- signing autographs for rude fans and paparazzi, and agreed to way too many things Jeff suggested.

Saying yes to everything didn’t make his life any easier is the thing. Especially when it came to his wife. She was usually left with the aftermath of him being too nice.

The media painted Y/N in a negative light occasionally and so did the fans because she would stand up for Harry and not let him say ‘yes’ to every single request.

She would tell disrespectful fans he’s not signing autographs because of the way they were screaming and interrupting his work.

Harry wished he could do it himself - admired that his wife didn’t give a fuck what people thought about her. He cared entirely too much what the world would think.

The couple didn’t fight about much - no, not really. Normal couple stuff for the most part. But this was the exception, this is where Y/N found most of their turmoil.

Every few months it would rear it’s ugly head and they’d find themselves in the same position over and over again.

This time - it was really fucking bad.

The couple had been staying in their Los Angeles home for the last few months whilst the singer finalized his album and began promotion.

It was boring meeting among boring lunch outings to get all their ducks in a row. Jeff - his manager the main orchestrator.

He was a great manager and a good friend, but it was also business too which Harry didn’t always comprehend.

At the end of the day, Harry was making Jeff millions upon millions of dollars. But Harry didn’t think that way.

**

Harry was in a stuffy conference room at the The Late Late Show to work on the script and ideas for the show. Promo had been nonstop.

He was a bit tired as it was nearly just hitting eight in the morning and he had been up late with you - having some late night loving in the hot tub.

“As for guest - Kendall Jenner,” James Corden’s producer states. All the men agree but Harry is taken aback.

“Why...why would we have my ex-girlfriend as one of my guests?” Harry interrupts, confusion knitting his brows.

Kendall and him didn’t end on a bad note - not at all. They hooked up a few times after their ‘break-up’ but once he’d met Y/N she was understanding when he cut it off.

Y/N wasn’t necessarily jealous of the model, but didn’t love when they’d run into each other at events. She was still overtly flirty with Harry without much shame. 

Harry also didn’t have an desire to see her or host her as a guest on the show. She was nice but he wasn’t interested in being friends with her. They didn’t have much in common and he was head over heels for his wife.

“The media will eat it up, dude. Harry Styles and Kendall Jenner reunited on a show after four years?” Jeff smiles, the others nodding in amicable agreement.

This is one of this times where Harry needs to say “no,” that it’s disrespectful to his significant other to use an old flame for promo for his album.

He already knows ‘hendall’ will be trending within minutes and he can’t imagine how that would make his parter feel.

“I just...this doesn’t seem like a good idea?” Harry begins hesitantly, making it sound more like a question than a statement. 

“Why not?” Eric, one of the writers asks.

“Y’know, I’m married. I don’t think m’missus would appreciate if I did somethin’ like that just for promotion,” he states, scratching at his jaw uncomfortably.

“Look Styles, we’re not asking you to fuck the girl. It just a interview, c’mon,” The executive producer gruffs - wanting those guaranteed views.

Harry swallows - looking at his manager and then at everyone else at the table looking at him for an affirmative answer.

“Uh-sure,” Harry fumbles, feeling anxiety rise into his throat. Fuck, he’s such a god damn pushover.

He’s trying to find his voice to go back on his agreement but the meeting wrapping up and people are leaving with final handshakes.

**

Harry doesn’t know how to tell Y/N what is going on. He’d been keeping in stored in the back of his mind, not ready to have a blowout.

He never found the perfect time to bring it up and now it was too late. It was the morning of the show and he was due to be at the rehearsals this afternoon.

Harry had finally decided he was going to tell her this morning over coffee but forgot that she had a girl’s day planned with a few friends.

She was already out to breakfast with them when he woke up. His phone had one text from you.

Hi baby. I’m out with the girls. See you at the show tonight. I’ll meet you there around six! Love you!

He was fucked royally and he had no one to blame but himself. Maybe it’d be okay, maybe she’d roll her eyes and tell him he’s an idiot.

Realistically he knew that was just a sweet dream at this point.

—

Harry was fidgety and kept mucking up his lines during rehearsal as it got closer to the showtime and his missus arriving.

Kendall had arrived for hair and makeup without seeing her ex-boyfriend yet. He dreaded seeing the model.

Kendall and Y/N had met a few times at different events. It was always cordial. Kendall was always casual - their relationship was never more than a couple fun dates and sex.

They were kind to each other when they met but he couldn’t deny how much harder his partner kissed him on the mouth afterwards.

Before he know it, his wife is hugging him from behind as he talks to a producer about which cameras to look at.

Y/N noticed the way he tensed up at first and thought about how unusual that was for him. Normally, he’d lean back into her with his full weight causing them both to stumble and laugh.

He slowly, cautiously turns around and his face  relaxes a little bit but not completely. “Hi baby,” he hums, leaning in for a kiss.

“You look so handsome,” she replies, admiring his brown pinstriped suit and her pearl necklace that he’d snagged awhile back. She thought it looked better on him anyways.

“You look even better, s’fuckin’ pretty, love,” he gushes, coming back in for another kiss - a little too sensual for the setting.

She was donned in a cropped white shirt, showing of the smooth expanse of her tummy. An oversized blazer of Harry’s, ripped jeans, and heels. 

Harry thought fleetingly he couldn’t wait to fuck her after the show. Then remembered that mostly wouldn’t happen.

Reggie, the musical lead, slides up to you two. He smiles wide at you, saying, “Can’t believe you agreed to the guest this evening.”

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, Harry’s raise nearly to his forehead, but when she opens her mouth to ask him to explain they’re interrupted.

“Harry!” The leggy model trots over to the little group. Dressed in an interesting one-piece suit that has sewn in heels. She looked beautiful as ever, of course she was a model.

Both of them turn towards the oblivious girl, “Kendall,” Harry replies with a twinge of anxiety - eyes repeatedly looking at his significant other’s profile as multiple emotions flash.

“Hiya, you’re Y/N right?” Kendall smiles kindly, offering her manicured hand.

She accepts, “Yeah, uh-good to see you again.”

Harry knew she had connected the dots quickly in her head. The hurt, confusion, had hit her eyes before narrowing into full-blown rage at her partner.

“I promise I’ll go easy on him,” Kendall jokes before pinching at Harry’s cheek teasingly. The model was a natural flirt with everyone she got along with.

“Oh, sure,” she replies lamely, attempting to not let her feelings burst out in that moment with her husband . She knew it wasn’t Kendall’s fault.

“I’m going to go grab a bite to eat. I’m probably gonna puke when we do ‘spill or fill’. See you guys soon,” the model waves before trailing off with her assistant.

“Did you kn- of course you knew she was your guest,” Y/N seethes, turning to fully face the guilt-stricken-singer.

He rubs the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact, “I did.”

“How long have you known for?” She demands to know, keeping her voice at an angry whisper to not draw attention.

Harry wasn’t going to lie to his love, “About two weeks.”

Y/N replies with a laugh, “let me guess, you let Jeffrey talk you into this bullshit, again.”

His silence is all she needs to know it’s true.

“For Christ’s sake, of course,” She huffs bitterly, “what’s even worse is you didn’t fucking tell me. What the fuck?”

Harry bites his lip, not able to rasp out anything but a pathetic, “m’sorry, love.”

He wasn’t usually good at taking responsibility during a fight. He was stubborn at best but he couldn’t deny his way out of this.

“You will be, you-“

They were cut off by the staff, the audience was trailing in and Harry needed to get mic’d up now.

“This conversation isn’t over,” she points her finger at his chest before storming off to the side of the stage where she’d watch from.

Fucking shit.

**

Harry was a performer. It’s easy for him to push things to the back of his mind so he can entertain a enamored audience.

But tonight, he was struggling. Eyes flicking over to the teleprompter more than usual, his demeanor not as vivid and carefree.

Not when his wife was glaring daggers at him from stage right. Her hand constantly at her mouth, biting at her nails - a nervous tick of hers.

“Next up, the one, the only, the beautiful model and one of my good friends, Kendall Jenner!” Harry introduces when she walks out and waves at the crowd.

They hug and when they pull apart they step over to where they were playing the game. Either answer the question or eat a nasty food picked out by the other.

They weren’t allowed to see each other’s questions before the game started- both going on blind which put Harry more on edge.

“Okay, Kendall. Rank the members of One Direction on most to least attractive or you will be eating...” Harry spins the table, “Cow tongue.”

She flinched at the disgusting plate, smirking up at Harry before considering her course of action, “I think I can answer this one.”

He wasn’t looking forward to her answer. Neither was Y/N by the way she nearly shaking her foot off her leg.

“Okay, I got this. You - the most attractive, then uh- Zayn....Louis...Niall...Liam,” she laughs, “but all of you are hot!”

Harry fake laughs and acts like he’s impressed by her answer as the crowd roars and cheers. 

When Kendall picks up her notecard - she laughs in surprise at the question before looking at him with bright eyes.

“Okay, um, bull penis!” She giggles before starting the question, “I’m dying to know this answer. So...your first album HS1 was released four years ago, correct?”

He nods, apprehensive.

“Which songs were about me? Especially was only angel?” She laughs at Harry’s pale expression before without another thought he shovels the rancid food into his mouth.

Harry looks off to the side to see that his missus is no longer sitting there. Just Jeff - who gives him a thumbs up.

**

The first thing he did when the show ended and the lights dimmed was bolt off to Jeff - ignoring Kendall who was about to say something to him.

“Where’d Y/N go?”

He thought she might have went out to get a breathe of fresh air but for the next hour and a half he hasn’t seen her once.

“She said she wasn’t feeling very good. She told me to tell you she’d meet you at home,” Jeff shrugs unbothered.

“Damnit!” Harry curses loudly, ripping out of the microphone and the little pack in his back waistband.

“Harry,” Jeff scolds at his unprofessionalism that was abnormal for him.

“No! Don’t fucking ever ask me to do shit like this again. You fucking knew what questions were on those notecards and you said it wasn’t anything about our previous relationship.”

“Harry-“

“Don’t fucking talk to me. You’re a real shit manager sometimes, you know that? Do not contact me tonight or tomorrow for that matter, you douchebag,” Harry barks before storming off towards the dressing rooms.

All the employees were standing around in shock, staring at the popstar as he ignored everyone around him.

Harry was famously known for being a kind, amicable guy. So it took everyone by surprise to hear him speak like that. Even Jeff was shaken up a little.

—

The house was pitch-black as Harry pulled up. The house’s first floor was lined with large, bay windows and not a single light was on.

He could find one room illuminated which was your bedroom. A dim side lamp must have been flicked on. He imagined her purposely turning off all the lights on the trek up the staircase.

Harry didn’t want to admit how much he was trembling with awful nerves and anticipation as he slowly turns the knob of the shared bedroom.

Y/N wasn’t laying in bed as he expected but found the bathroom door shut tightly. He noticed a little yellow bag with tissue paper off to the side by a dresser.

He knocks on the oak door, not daring to enter without permission.

“What do you want?” Y/N answers, tone flat and emotionless. 

“Can I come in, baby? Please...” He wasn’t ashamed to beg for forgiveness at this point. Hearing the emptiness in her tone scared him shitless.

“I really could care less,” She replies coldly from her spot in the scalding water decorated with bubbles.

Harry had never felt more unsure in his life as he enters the bathroom.  Y/N had gotten proper pissed at him or vice versa before - right before a concert, an award ceremony but she’d never left without him.

Her head was laying against the foam headrest and her body was covered by the soap water. She looked tired and her eyes were puffy from crying.

Harry kneels next to the tub, “look at me, please pet.”

 Y/N takes a moment before turning her head and opening her eyes. They were distant, disappointed in the man in front of her.

“I should have told you about Kendall. I should have put up more of a fight to get someone else on instead,” Harry admits, his hands desperately wanting to reach out for her.

She shakes her head with a heart-wrenching sniffle, “it’s not just tonight, Harry. We’ve had this conversation continuously for three and a half fucking years. You try to please everyone, despite them giving no fucks about you.”

“Are you that much of a pushover? You let your ex-girlfriend flirt with you in front of millions. Do you know how embarrassing and unfair that it to me?” She wipes at her eyes to stop the tears spilling over.

Harry hadn’t thought of it like that - to be honest. But he agrees, it wasn’t fair and downright cruel to do that to her.

What? All because he couldn’t say ‘no’ because he didn’t want people to be mad at him? It was pathetic and ridiculous.

“I-I won’t let it happen again, lovie. I mean it, I truly do,” Harry whimpers reaching over to cup her cheek and wants to cry when she pushes him away.

“You’re a broken record. You’ve said that a million times before but don’t change,”  Y/N points out, eyes boring furiously into his wife’s.

“I’m goi-“

She cuts him off with a sharp edge in her tone, “Just leave me alone, get out.”

The man’s face crumbles and for a second, she wants to just end the fight and makeup but then nothing would change.

“Baby-“

“Get out!” She finally bellows, tears streaming down her face steadily.

He obliges, head hung in defeat as he closes the door behind him. He stands there’s blankly for a second before going to the walk-in closet.

He’s pulling out a fresh pair of cotton underwear and a large sleepshirt for his partner, laying them neatly on the bed.

Harry doesn’t know what to do with himself while he waits so he pulls out his phone to mindlessly scroll.

He throws it against the wall when he sees #hendallreunited is trending number one on Twitter at the moment.

The singer strips down to his briefs and sits with his back against the tufted headboard, staring blankly at the wall.

His eyes catch a neon pink pair of his swimshorts tossed carelessly on the decorative vase in the corner of the room from the night before .

“Fuck, baby - no need to rush,” Harry groans into Y/N ‘s mouth as she pushes him until he’s sat on the edge of their California king.

She reaches impatiently for the tie on his neon pink swimshorts and yanks them off his slim, peach-fuzz thighs before throwing them onto the vase without a care that it was worth over twenty-thousand pounds.

After edging her in the hot tub with his fingers and mouth, she wasn’t waiting any longer before clambering onto his lap, pulling her swim bottoms to the side, and sinking onto him.

He felt guilty when his cock twitched at the thought of it. But when reality set back in, the arousal with the memory evaporated.

It isn’t much longer until the door is pulled open and  Y/N’s padding into the room with a towel secured around her.

She looks at the clothes Harry set out for her and pointedly walks past them to pick out her own nightwear. 

That really shouldn’t make his eyes tear up as he watches her slide on a similar pair of panties and an oversized shirt. Spotting a purpling bruise on her upper in thigh from his mouth.

 Y/N silently walks past the bed and to the bedroom door, looking back before bleakly stating, “I’m going to sleep in the guest room.”

He frowns, wrinkles appearing on his forehead, “You can sleep in here, love. I’ll take the guest room.”

Harry doesn’t get a reply as she just shakes her head and closes the door loudly behind her. 

It’s just - he’s never seen her this upset. She was usually fantastic at communicating her feelings and hashing things out.

She wasn’t one for the silent treatment or ignoring the topic. It had his chest rising faster than usual with anxiety. The serious of it overwhelming him.

He states at the wall for a very long time without wiping the fat tears brimming over his trembling lips.

*

He couldn’t sleep - it was half past three and he hadn’t even laid down or clicked off the lamp.

Harry accepted sleep wasn’t coming so he begins to tidy the already clean room. He picks up the shorts and tossing them in the hamper.

He refolds some joggers he’d carelessly shoved in a drawer and when he went to move the little yellow bag - curiosity got the best of him.

There was no card and he wasn’t sure who it was for or if it had been a gift already give to Y/N that she had returned home with.

Harry really shouldn’t - but he does. Gently tugging out the paper and reaching in to feel fabric.

Pulling it out, it takes him a minute to identify what it is - two baby onesie. Who was having a baby?

He lays them in front of him, eyes widening in surprise as he reads what is printed across the black cotton.

The first one was the colors and font of his upcoming tour merch with the photo he used on his tour announcement with the heeled boot and white pants.

Love on Tour - Due Date: September 2025

With Special Guest Appearance from Baby Styles

The second one was simple and read across the chest:

I’m having your baby (and it is your business) with embroidered kiwis all of over it.

He frantically reached back into the bag to pull out a bundle of pregnancy tests tied with a silk bow.

They weren’t necessarily trying for a baby but they’re weren’t not trying either. Harry wanted a baby as soon as his missus was willing to give him one.

“No, no, don’t one,” she’d whined into his mouth when he’d reached over to grab a condom off the nightstand.

“Oh sweet thing, you want me bare? Fill you up?” He croons happily, coming back to grip at his thick base and tease at her entrance.

“Ye-yeah, H. Please,” (Y/N) whimpers, bucking her hips in the hope he’d slip inside her.

Harry hums, “Might give you a baby though, y’want me to knock you up?”

“Want it, wan-“

He cuts her off with a hard, blissful kiss as he thrusts all the way inside before pulling out to do it again. 

“Gonna give it to you, whatever you want, lovie,” he promises.

The two had never used protection afterwards. It had start about seven months ago and from his knowledge she’d still been getting her periods regularly.

Occasionally, he would palm at her flat tummy and pout, “Haven’t put a baby in you yet, ‘ave I?”

He was so ecstatic but disappointed in himself for ruining everything and pleasing everyone other than who he should be.

Harry needed to fix this. He didn’t want Y/N to lose the excitement of having their baby over a dumb choice of his.

The man’s out of the room and not knocking before entering their guest room. His now pregnant love is laying on-top of the covers.

One hand subconsciously on her belly - which she removes and places next to her when her wife walks in.

The television was on but the volume was low and Y/N wasn’t watching it in the first place anyways.

Harry sits on the edge of the bed, “I opened the yellow bag.”

She looks at him with wide eyes, a little taken aback. she was going to surprise him tonight and forgot to store it away for another time after the fight.

Harry has happy tears dribbling down his cheeks, “you’re having my baby?”

Y/N nods, running a slight hand through his curls. She still had a nasty knot of anger and uncertainty in the pit of her stomach.

It pains her, wanting to share this moment of excitement with Harry but she just couldn’t. The uncertainty of whether Harry would put everybody’s needs before his own baby.

“Come back to bed, want t’talk and celebrate. M’so bloody excited,” Harry murmurs, a large smile decorating his face as he smooths a palm over the expanse of her tummy.

His wife shakes her head and places a hand over his, feeling the cold metal of all of them. “I want to be left alone.”

The twinkle in Harry’s eye diminishes to devastation as he realizes that he’s fucked up so badly that she doesn’t even want to celebrate.

“Pet, can...we just forget about it tonight and be happy ‘bout the baby?” Harry asks selfishly, knowing it was unlikely she’d agree.

She didn’t, a firm expression on her face, “no, I have a lot to think about.”

“Like wha’?” He asks anxiously, unknowing of quite the reason she was so furious.

“Like how you say yes to everything and everyone. We talk and talk about how you need to say ‘no’ and do what’s best for you - for us. You agree to and never follow through”

She takes a shaky breath and continues, “it’s affected our relationship before when you’ve had to cancel our vacation away from all this for a charity concert you’d agree to perform at last minute, dinner reservations because you told your friend we’d be at their art showing they wanted you at.”

Harry knew she was right. He did those things. He wanted everyone to be happy with him - to a fault.

“Tonight was just icing on the cake, you allowed your manager to talk you into hosting your ex on that show. Out of all the people in the world - her. With flirty questions and jabs from her. You let that happen. You care about making everyone happy but in return you don’t care how it affects me. That’s pretty shitty.”

“I’m...I’m really fucking scared you’ll do that even when we have the baby. I need you to put them first and right now...I’m not sure if you’re going to. You can’t put the person you want to spend the rest of your life with first now, how do I know you’ll do it with the baby?”

Harry chokes out a sob as he presses his forehead against the bed, his broad shoulders shaking. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried this hard - years ago maybe. He felt like his wife didn’t have any faith in him and he was to blame.

He looks up at her with swollen eyes - at a loss for what to do or say. He loved her so much and was over the moon that they were going to have a baby.

“How do I fix this, darling? You’re right, I really fucked up. M’sorry,” Harry cries, grabbing at her hands and she allows it.

“Just saying you’re sorry won’t fix it,” Y/N replies flatly, letting Harry squeeze and kiss at the backs of her hands.

“Then what do I bloody do to fix this?” Harry raises his voice in frustration, staring in bewilderment at his wife. 

Y/N narrows her eyes at him, “Do not raise your voice at me, Harry. Actions speak louder than words.”

Harry swallows harshly, pressing one finally kiss to her hand. “Okay.”

“Okay?” She repeats.

“I love you, I’ll fix this,” he promises with conviction. He knew what he needed to do and do it tomorrow. So he and his wife could enjoy her new pregnancy.

“I need space tonight, I just...please”Y/N says quietly, rubbing at his shoulder.

It wasn’t the first time they’ve slept in separate rooms because they weren’t getting along but they normally found their way back to each other before sunrise.

Harry nods, lip still tremble with the residual anxiety of the conversation. She allows him to press a soft kiss to her mouth before leaving the room.

—-

Cafe Habana was busy - but no one was paying much attention to Harry and Jeff. It was the morning after and Harry had demanded a meeting over breakfast with his manager.

“Y/N pregnant,” Harry states bluntly after their drinks arrive.

“Oh? Congratulations, dude. That’s exciting!” Jeff leans over to pat him on the shoulder, a big smile.

“The baby is due in September. My next tour starts in next July. The baby will be about nine months. I want to be at home with them for the first year.”

Jeff doesn’t look pleased, “what are you getting at Harry?”

“Reschedule the July and August tour dates. Tack them on to the end of the tour,” Harry lays out flat. 

He hadn’t talk to his wife about this but he knew this was how he could prove that he could say ‘no’ and not be a pushover.

“No Harry. Look I get you’re excited about the baby - but that will be such a fucking hassle,” Jeff frowns, sipping his mimosa.

“I’m not asking, Jeff. I’m telling you that’s what needs to happen,” Harry replies firmly, tone strong and unwavering.

Jeff is definitely taken aback by his client’s conviction. 

“While we’re on the topic, do not ever put me in a situation like you did yesterday. It affected my wife and I. And I will choose her over this career any day.”

The manager nods in surprise, “Harry, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not asking for an apology but if you ever pull something like then I’ll be looking for a new management team. Are we clear?” 

Jeff once again nods, unsure of where this is coming from but at the thought of losing his biggest client would be disastrous so he’d do whatever to accommodate him.

“Consider it done,” he tells Harry before clearing his throat in a slight panic.

—

Y/N woke up to an empty house. She was restless, she asked Harry to prove to her that he could be what she needed. However, it was a bit unfair because she didn’t know how he could do it.

It’s just…she had a baby to think about. They both needed to be put first and if it took a gnarly fight for Harry to realize it...so be it.

“Baby? Love, where are you?” She hears Harry echo through the whole house. She was sat in the kitchen, on a stool by the island, idly sorting through mail.

“In here!”

Harry jogs in, panting like he sprinted from the garage up to the kitchen. He comes to stand in front of the love of his life.

“I might have not completely fixed everything but...I tried,” Harry tells her, cradling her face in his large palms. “ I just got back from lunch with Jeff. I told him about the baby.”

He takes a deep breath before continuing, “I rescheduled tour dates so I can be with you guys at home in London for the first year. Then...maybe you guys can join me after?”

“Harry…” she’s at a loss for words.

“And I told Jeff that if he ever puts me in a situation like that again, I’m firing him.”

Y/N stares at him, in awe and admiration of the man she chose to marry and keep forever. His face was so sincere and vulnerable.

Harry didn’t know whether it would be enough. If it wasn’t he’d keep trying but all he could do was hope. He waited with bated breath as she processed his words.

“Baby, you-for me?” She murmurs as she stands up and crowds into his space. He instantly wraps her up into a tight hug, missing her touch.

“Of course, pet. I’d do anything for you, I mean it. I’d quit this whole career if you wanted tha’,” he tells her truthfully - lips brushing her forehead.

“I love you, so so much,” Y/N murmurs, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“We’re havin’ a baby,'' Harry sighs dreamily into her mouth, tongue sliding against hers. A large hand came to palm at her belly.

“Yeah, m‘having your baby,” She giggles as he begins to trail the kisses down her jaw and neck - pressing her into the marble countertop.

“Should we name it Kiwi?” Harry rasps as he slides the tank top strap off her shoulder so his lips can meet the cap of her warm shoulder.

“We are not going to be that celebrity couple who names their baby something weird,” Y/N groans as he grounds his hips into hers with intent.

THE END

[delimeful]

Snapshot: Cleanse

snapshots: a new compilation of mini-fics taking place in the WIBAR universe! this one takes place a few days after Making Adjustments!

warnings: none! Whoops, All Fluff!

-

It was a few days after the Breakfast Ceasefire that Virgil decided enough was enough.

He needed a shower. Badly.

It didn’t matter that he was on an alien ship full of alien stuff, or that showering meant temporarily ditching the comfort of his hoodie, or even that two out of three aliens would probably happily see him dead at any opportunity.

He had picked up what felt like an entire football field’s worth of dirt, mud, and other muck while him and Patton were planet-hopping, and impromptu washcloth (read: a patch torn from the back of his shirt) cleaning sessions had only done so much. They only came across clean water every so often, anyhow. Most of it couldn’t be wasted on washing.

Patton had picked up on his discomfort back then— that or the smell— but the Ampen’s idea of ‘cleaning up’ was very similar to that of chinchillas’ back home on Earth: dust baths. That’s right. More dirt.

(Yes, he’d rolled around in the dirt with his friend. Contrary to popular interstellar belief, he wasn’t a monster.)

Still, it was time to come clean. Literally and metaphorically.

Patton had spent last night cuddled up to him, which meant that he had actually gotten a full eight hours of sleep (good!) and that Roman was probably sulking around (ungood!). The sense of clarity that came with not being quite so horrendously sleep deprived only made him more aware of how dirty he was. It felt like heresy to even touch any of the numerous well-sanitized surfaces in the ship.

“Patton,” he called, once the Ampen had started doing those little antennae twitches that meant he was half-awake. “Can you show me the wash room?”

The response was a little delayed, but eventually Patton startled into full wakefulness with a little chirp-peep that reminded him of a computer startup noise.

From there, he was led down the circular halls to a square room that sort of resembled a locker room shower area, complete with drainage grates in the floor. There was a ledge along one side of the room that led up to a windowbox-like protrusion, and Virgil could see from here that it was full of soft, beige dirt.

Patton paused, visibly turning his head from Virgil to the washbox, as though measuring things out in his mind.

“That’s probably too small for you, huh?”

Virgil stopped him before he could start making plans for a human-sized sandbox. “Uh, actually, Pat, I need water to wash.”

“Oh!” Patton exclaimed, more surprised than disconcerted. “Well, water we doing over here then?”

Virgil couldn’t hide a smile, and Patton crinkle-smiled back at him before waving him over to the opposite end of the room. He pointed up, where there were little circular discs with a grid of tiny holes set into the wall. “Here you go! Roman uses these to help with his slough, or when he gets particularly rough and tumble down on planetside!”

… Great. Odds were borrowing his shower was probably going to make Roman even more homicidal towards him. Virgil decided to worry about that later. For now, he was faced with the biggest challenge of them all: figuring out how a friend’s shower knobs worked.

Surprisingly, it seemed like the panel set into the wall below each disc worked similarly to the other touchscreens he’d seen set into the control room of the ship. Unsurprisingly, they were all labeled with the written form of Common, which meant he had about zero chance of figuring it out on his own.

Patton noticed his blank stare and patted at his knee, and Virgil squatted down easily so the undersized alien could clamber onto his shoulder. He rose up, and Patton’s little claws scrambled for purchase for a moment before he caught his balance, Virgil tense with preparation to twist and catch him if he fell.

“This little icon has the symbol for on, and this is how you get it hot or cold,” he chirped, leaning forwards to point at the screen for emphasis. Virgil obligingly shifted closer, trying to commit the guidance to memory. “You’re a little squisher than Roman, so you should probably change the pressure, too.”

Once he’d shuffled around so he was sure neither of them were about to get slammed by a jet of water, he tapped the power button.

A three-note chime played as a sort of countdown, and water shot out of the disc, at what was probably the appropriate pressure to powerwash muck from under tightly-packed scales. Virgil pushed the slider down until he could put his hand under without feeling any sting from the water’s impact. Then, he cranked the temperature up until it was just short of scalding.

Patton eyed the steam curling up into the air with a concerned fluff to his feathers, but didn’t protest after seeing the small, delighted grin that Virgil made as he held his hand under.

No, this wasn’t dunking his head in cold streams, or dipping his arm in a lukewarm puddle, or the humiliating icy hose downs in captivity. This was warm water. He’d never take it for granted again.

He shrugged out of his hoodie as he walked over to the entrance. “Does this… lock?”

“Any door on the ship can be sealed,” Patton replied, and bonked his head to Virgil’s sympathetically at the shudder that information sent through him. “Nobody’s going to lock anything without your permission, though, okay?”

“Yeah,” Virgil said, knowing he sounded less than convinced. “Can you guard the door, still? Just in case,” he added in English, one of the phrases he’d used a lot while they were on the run.

Patton gave him a sad look, more than aware how unsafe he still felt, but nodded firmly and dropped carefully down to the floor, taking up position just outside the door like a tiny sentry. Virgil draped his hoodie over him, and then-- checking that the others weren’t nearby to witness and freak out about it-- he gave him the world’s smallest noogie, ruffling the feathers atop his head with a knuckle.

Having preemptively twitched his antennae out of the way, Patton made one of those bird-like laughs at him, batting his hand away. “Go clean! And make sure you wash out for slippery floors!”

Virgil snorted, and carefully sealed the door behind him, trying not to think about the feeling of being stuck in a tiny square room again. He shook his head, dragging his thoughts back on track.

He had access to a warm shower, his first in literal months (...years?). He was going to stay under that spout until every bit of dirt washed down the drain.

---

Roman was midway through a session of storywriting when he heard Patton’s bright voice coming down the hall, passing by his room and chattering all the while.

His ears flicked back automatically to check in, and he frowned when he realized that he couldn’t hear Logan’s arms clicking alongside the Ampen. No, apart from Patton’s tiny tapping footsteps, there was nothing. Patton had to be talking to the Human, then, since he was the only one who ghosted around the ship silently enough to make Roman feel stalked at every corner.

Well. He’d grown tired of watching his characters make a rather vexing detour from his carefully-plotted main storyline anyhow, and he was loath to leave his smallest friend alone with a Human, regardless of how docile that Human pretended to be.

After a brief cleanup of his writing instruments, he was sweeping down the corridor to the commons after them.

Logan was already in the room when he arrived, which was surprising; even Roman had picked up on the ludicrous lengths the Human went to avoid the Ulgorian, as though Logan of all people was someone to be scared of. The nerd’s poison blood was the most “threatening” thing about him, and the Human had already shown how easily he could shake that off.

Patton was leading the Human by one hand, their size disparity as jarring and terrifying as ever. And the Human…

Roman turned his head to the side to study the scene more intently, and that in itself was strange.

Normally, Virgil was almost preternaturally aware of when he was being watched, according to Logan. It was obvious when he knew: the Human went tense and rigid, practically poised to pounce at any moment.

But now, he was trailing after Patton with a relaxed slope to his shoulders, his steps almost languid. He all but collapsed on the fluffy cushion Patton gestured to, eyes gliding shut as the Ampen climbed up after him.

Roman took a few steps into the room, and the Human cracked one eye open-- not entirely out of it, then. The mild suspicion he was regarded with was almost reassuring.

Upon closer inspection, there were physical changes, too. The human had gone from pale, almost grey-toned to having a pinkish tint to his skin. The grey-brown still clung to the hooded garment he’d draped himself in, creating an even more jarring contrast. Dirt, then? It would certainly explain the smudges he left everywhere he touched much better than some strange Human Residue.

… He wasn’t crossing Human Residue off the list of possibilities, though.

Most striking of all was his head. He had originally stalked around with a matted mess of fur, glinting oily in the light where it wasn’t dull with dirt. Now, the fur was clean and stuck out in little fluffy tufts, creating a much less menacing look overall.

Patton apparently agreed, because he’d scampered up to one shoulder and immediately buried his tiny hands into that fluff. Roman and Logan both startled, exchanging an alarmed-exasperated-fearful look, one that had become exceedingly more common after Patton came home with his new Human cellmate.

Surprisingly, all Virgil did was go even more boneless on the cushion, turning his head to better meet Patton’s touch. Patton closed his eyes happily, apparently completely fine with petting one of the most feared creatures in the galaxy.

That wasn’t surprising at all, actually.

What was surprising was the Human’s apparent tolerance for it.

“I wasn’t aware Humans enjoyed tactile ministrations,” Logan said, tapping his wristplates curiously. “Is Virgil alright?”

The Human in question turned slightly to glance at them, eyes still half-lidded. It was probably the least threatening body language Roman had seen from him since… well, ever. “Mm?”

“You’re just relaxing, aren’t you kiddo?” Patton combed through that mess of fluff some more and Virgil lost what little tension he’d regained. “Virgil spent a lot of time on guard while we were on the run planetside. He deserves all the time in the world to recuperate… and all the head scritches!”

Roman’s tail swished exasperatedly, but even he really couldn’t come up with a reason to begrudge the Human for this, not when Patton was so clearly enjoying having someone else onboard to preen. Even if that someone was a Deathworlder.

He moved to settle onto his own cushion under the guise of supervising, though for once he thought the Human might actually fall asleep in front of him.

And if he was perhaps just slightly curious about what exactly a fluffy Human felt like? Well, that was nobody’s business but his own.

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Christmas Reruns 2023 Day 29: New York Christmas Serenade (2/4)

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t!  One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia.  A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns.  So here you go!  Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Rating: G

Word Count: 1868

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 30 31 32

CS Genre: Canon Divergence (missing year between 3a and 3b)

Killian felt an unaccustomed stab of nervousness flow through him as he walked the steps leading toward Swan’s abode.  He knew very little of what was transpiring in Storybrooke, only that the kingdom had once again been transported to the Land Without Magic via a curse and they needed the savior. 

Much was riding on Killian’s success in restoring Emma’s memories, and he felt the weight of the responsibility placed upon his shoulders.  While he’d have traded away the Jolly and done all in his power to find Swan simply for her own sake, the fact that her parents were counting on him spurred him on even more.  It had been centuries since he’d truly belonged anywhere and he had no intention of mucking this up.

Truthfully it was a minor miracle she’d invited him to spend the evening with her and the lad at all, but from what he’d gathered as he’d wandered the streets of this strange place called “New York” Christmas was a time for miracles.

Taking a deep breath, Killian raised his artificial hand and wrapped on her apartment door promptly at 7:00 pm.  He tapped his fingers against his leg as he waited, and then suddenly the door was opened and she stood there and literally took his breath away.  She wore a soft green sweater that brought out her eyes, jeans and brown boots, her hair was pulled back into a soft pony tail.

“You’re stunning, love,” he said in wonder—almost reverence.  His heart rate picked up as he saw her color prettily at the compliment.  If he didn’t know better, he’d swear Emma Swan was flustered by his presence in her home.

“Thanks,” she said, “you look pretty good yourself.”

Killian looked down at his black jeans, his blue button down shirt and his leather jacket, glad he’d thought to find attire more suitable to his environs. 

“Aye, well..” he said, giving her a flirtatious grin, “I have been called dashingly handsome, love.”

She rolled her eyes but laughed softly, breathily.  Killian leaned toward her, drawn to her, wishing nothing more than to repeat their mind-blowing kiss on Neverland.  For a moment, Emma leaned forward, lifted her head.  Was she actually going to allow him to kiss her?

“Hey guys, are you coming in soon?” came Henry’s voice from the kitchen, “I’m starving.”

And with that the spell was over.  Emma took a healthy step back, held onto the door and waved him in.  “Yeah, um…” she said, “come in.  Dinner’s ready.”

Killian obliged, shedding his jacket and placing it on the rack beside the door.  He looked around in interest, admiring the large, open feel of the apartment, impressed with the large, well decorated pine tree in the corner near the windows, enjoying the delectable aromas wafting in from the kitchen.

“It smells tasty, love,” Killian said, taking the seat Henry indicated at the head of the table.  “Did you prepare our meal yourself.”

Henry laughed.  “Mom doesn’t cook; especially on Christmas!  Of any day of the year, we ought to at least have edible food on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.”

“Excuse me?” Emma said feigning great offense.  “You better watch yourself, Kid.  Santa’s still watching.  Don’t want to get on the naughty list.”

Henry grinned.  “Hey, I’m only telling the truth.  I’d say being honest ought to keep me on the nice list.  But seriously, Killian, we had our dinner catered from this little Italian place down the street.  They have the best spaghetti and meatballs you’ve ever eaten!”

Killian smiled at the playful ribbing between mother and son.  Though he knew his Swan would wish to have her memories and know the truth, he was grateful to the Queen for giving her and the lad such pleasant memories and such a close relationship in their false life.

“I’ve no doubt but that you’re right, Henry,” Killian said, taking the bowl of long, thin pasta Swan passed him. He placed a healthy serving on his place, and then topped it with the red sauce placed before him on the table.  “As it happens, this is the first time I’ve ever consumed this particular dish.”

Both Swan and her lad stopped what they were doing and shot him astonished looks.  “You’ve never eaten spaghetti and meatballs before?” Henry asked.

“Not even once.”

“Well are you in for a Christmas treat!” Henry assured him as he began to eat with typical preteen gusto.

And as Killian ate his meal of spaghetti and meatballs, salad and garlic bread, he had to admit the lad was correct—although whether it was the deliciousness of the food or the pleasantness of the company he enjoyed most was a matter for some debate.  As the evening continued, Swan lost the last hint of her nervous awkwardness and began talking and laughing with him—far more open than she’d ever before been in his presence.

After dinner, Killian followed the lad into the living room to choose a movie for the evening, after which came a ritual that left Henry nearly writhing in excitement.

“We open most of our gifts on Christmas morning,” Emma told Killian as Henry rushed toward the tree, carefully picking up each of the brightly wrapped packages which bore his name, shaking them, looking them over, weighing them in his hands, “but a few years ago, the kid talked me into starting a Swan family tradition of him getting one of his presents on Christmas Eve.  Choose carefully, kid.”

And suddenly, with the mention of gifts for the occasion of Christmas, Killian came up with a plan.  What if he was able to jog the lad’s memories?  With Henry on his side, perhaps the two of them could find a way to remind Emma who she truly was.

Killian grinned as Henry opened his chosen gift.  The lad’s enthusiasm and exuberance were contagious.

“The video game I wanted!” Henry said as soon as the bright, colorful paper was ripped away.  “Thanks mom!  This is great!”

Emma ruffled his hair.  “No problem kid,” she said.  “And just you wait.  You may be an expert at the other games, but I’m determined I’m going to beat you at this one!”

“Sounds like a challenge to me, lad,” Killian said teasingly, reaching over to playfully squeeze Swan’s shoulder from her perch beside him on the couch.  “Are you going to let it go unanswered?”

“No way!” Henry said.  “You’ll see, mom!  You may be good catching real bad guys, but I’ve got the video bad guys quaking in their boots!  Can I play it now?  Please?”

Before Emma could answer, Killian put a up his artificial hand.  “Just a moment, lad,” he said.  “If you please, I have my own gifts to bestow.”

“Killian,” Emma said, looking over at him, “you didn’t need to…”

“Nonsense, love,” he answered.  “You were so kind as to allow me to share your holiday.  The least I can do is offer a few small tokens of my gratitude.”

“Seriously, we don’t expect…” Emma began again, but this time she was interrupted by her son.

“Did you bring me something?” he asked Killian, stepping up to him.

“Indeed I did, lad,” Killian said, reaching for his satchel.  “If I don’t miss my guess, you have the heart of a true believer.  The truest believer, even.  I thought perhaps you might find joy in perusing the stories of other heroes and believers.”

With a flourish, Killian pulled Henry’s old storybook from his bag and presented it to the boy.  It was this book that had ignited Henry’s belief the first time.  Was it possible the item would do the trick for a second time?

Henry accepted the offering, muttering a quick “Thank you,” before peering in confusion at the tome.

“A storybook?” Henry asked, brow furrowed.

“Aye,” Killian said, “a storybook, but I hope you’ll find it so very much more.  Go on lad, open it.”

Killian watched eagerly as Henry opened the book to the story of his grandparents.  He hadn’t long to wait.  Henry couldn’t have read more than a paragraph before his eyes got wide as saucers and he quickly looked up at Killian.

“Hook!” he said slowly.  “I…I remember!”

Waves of relief covered Killian like a blanket.  He may still have quite the uphill task in front of him, but for the first time since finding his beloved Swan in her apartment home, Killian knew without a doubt that he would.

–Up next: Emma wakes up on Christmas morning—and ends up spending a very pleasant full day with both her son and the pirate she doesn’t yet remember she had feelings for.

NEXT CHAPTER->

[inventors-fair]

Landslide Victory: Regional contest winners!

Congratulations to @azathoth-the-bored, @gollumni and @dabudder for winning this week's contest!

Let me tell you, this was a rough one for narrowing things down. In the end, I took the cards that, even though they might not have been my mechanical favorites, they did everything right in terms of proper wording, appropriate flavoring, balance, and game feel. That's the only way—because lord knows I'm gonna be gushing a fair amount this week. With some of these runners/judge picks, there's so much to love. Regardless!

@azathoth-the-bored — Urborg Trawler

With Vehicles becoming a part of day-to-day Magic, I love when they show up appropriately on various worlds, and this is no exception. Weatherlight did some awesome Vehicle shenanigans, and now here we are on the island of Urborg with a fantastic Dominarian-flavored boat. I can definitely see what this is doing in the world, and it feels perfectly appropriate. Someone crews through the muck on a muck cruise, and you get your bodies and/or treasure! Totally gets the trawling mood. The flavor text referencing Skulltown... Skulltown, c'mon, Wizards. Anyway. I kinda like how the dockhand is passing off the responsibility. It makes Urborg seem alive, gives it a dynamic. It's subtle but effective for me!

Mechanically, of course, this is an excellent card for this world. Now that Dominaria has its share of artifact-y Historic stuff going for it (or, well, that's what I associate with it), you can play this card as a historic enabler, to get back your other cards, and the expenditure of mana means that you can't immediately abuse it in limited. Later in the game for a sacrifice-y midrange type of deck, it's supremely strong; recursion always is, but you're tempering the recursion with choice. And THAT is excellent card design.

@gollumni — Bassomer Busker

I find myself surprised with this card in a way that's equally enthralling and frustrating. The thing is, it's a perfectly adequate limited card. You have a 2/2 for 3 that doesn't really do anything without Treasures, but you can make it fairly large and swing in and make combat math a touch harder. Or you can use it to crew bigger vehicles, I suppose? There are limited applications in the really powerful environment that New Capenna created. I don't know how much this card would be played, honestly, but I'll say that it feels like it belongs.

So maybe that's it. I want to be ambivalent about this card and I can't. What's the art direction here? Personally, I'm imagining a wild virtuoso that's getting the respected smirks from one side of the crowd and uncomfortable glances from another, with a deco guitar and a tarnished suit and a singing voice like the steam pipes around them. Or maybe an upturned drum set, maybe even a backing raccoon, a small crowd. It's a breath in a world of steel. Giving them money makes them stronger, and that's all there needs to be. I know this contest left a lot of open mechanical space, and I respect the simplicity of your choices, and how they succeeded in making a card that feels...warm. It feels like home in the city.

@dabudder — Skyfang Fall // Skyfang Crevasse

Also in terms of simple mechanics, I'm shocked to see that this kind of specific effect hasn't been done yet. Pinging equal to land ETBs? I mean, you have funny moments like the kind where Scapeshift can slam into a creature, but there were only five cards in ZNR that put land cards directly onto the battlefield, so chances are this is mostly going to be a pinger that's designed for funny shenanigans in other formats. Is that fine? Yeah, I mean, it's fine, it's probably not gonna be in the same set as Spikefield Hazard but this is a contest of concepts and conceptually it's great. The DFC lands were all radically awesome. Also, capitalize the 'a' in 'add' or I'm going to cry.

I like the relationship and the feeling that Nakkem brings to the world. They're a goblin on a mission! The mission is to save your butt so that they get paid. This human's slippage is a misstep but that's all right. There's a minor character here with a minor impact, and once again, the feeling of 'this place is dangerous but kind of fun' comes into the forefront. We really hadn't seen a place like Zendikar before when it first came out, and here's the thing: even though it's an Adventure World, what other "Adventure" worlds were there before it in fantasy? Zendikar is tropical, untamed, a continent of angels and goblins, a living place. What else compares? And getting back into the slices of that world is really what this is about.

More to come! Thank you all for your entries.

@abelzumi

[itssuppertim3]

Lean (Miraak x Reader):

Contemplating on writing for Pyramid Head every once in a while since I can't get the thick bastard off my mind but we'll see what the future brings

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

"Do you like winter, Miraak?" I asked the man strolling quietly beside me. "Not necessarily. However, I remember a time when I did. My temple always felt a bit warmer-- more enjoyable during that time." I snorted at him in amusement, to which he wasn't fond of. "I just imagined you stringing up holiday decor." He merely scoffed in denial, though we both knew it was true.

While searching for another conversation topic, my foot slid against the mud beneath me. "Careful," Miraak warned as his hands clasped firmly around my shoulders. My breath was trapped in my throat from the sudden startle, but somehow he only made it worse. Once my voice came back to me, I said, "uh...-- yeah. Thank you." Damn, his hands were so warm. I could feel the heat emitting from them even through my armor. Alas, the soothing feeling dissappeared as soon as he retracted his arms.

"Honestly, I'm surprised you hadn't already cracked your skull before I came along. It seems that you are always tripping and stumbling wherever you go." I scratched my cheek and chuckled sheepishly. "Ah, you know me so well."

"That is only because I stand witness to it," he uttered. We continued onward to Morthal in silence. A week ago, Jarl Idgrod sent me a letter of assistance; "potential murdurer on the loose," it had read. She noted that she wasn't one to fall victim to senseless gossip, but over the last several days she had been growing paranoid of the situation. Thus, she requested us to investigate. "I wonder why the jarl wants two dragonborn to take care of a killer instead of the guards? Gods, I feel like most of the soldiers are just using this pitiful war as an excuse to be lazy," I grumbled with my arms crossing.

"I agree. Though as far as I'm concerned, she wants you to handle it, not I." I perked up at his remark. "What do you mean? Everyone should know by now that you're just as powerful as I am. We've been traveling together for three months." Miraak diverted his gaze from me and pointed it straight ahead. "Perhaps, but you and I are still very different from one another. The people of Skyrim view you as a hero to be remembered for ages, whereas I will forever be remembered as a traitor-- if I was even remembered at all." The atmosphere around us suddenly became very dim. For a moment, the only noise that could be heard was the mire sloshing under our boots.

"That's bullshit," I retorted finally. Miraak was taken aback by my sudden change of attitude. "Excuse my language, but it is. Look at all of the good you've done since we've been together! We took down a vampire lord for crying out loud! And yeah, we weren't thanked for it or anything--"

"Y/n."

"But that doesn't matter. What does matter is that you put in a lot of effort to make the world safer, and I think that deserves respect."

"Y/n." By now, Miraak was no longer walking at my side. "What is it?" Before he was able to respond, the muddy ground had fallen loose beneath me and I plummeted into a brown socket of water. Oh yeah, I forgot that we were trudging through a swamp. The filth shot through my mouth and nose as I was completely sumberged. To make matters worse, the water was also incredibly frigid, making it even more difficult to sort through my panic. A pair of arms dove into the murk and proceeded to yank me up by my collar.

I gurgled, spluttered, and heaved strong breaths once I was dragged out of harm's way. Miraak shook his head at me all the while. I could practically feel the smirk hiding under his mask. "Oh, yeah. Real funny. Please continue... to remind me of how much... of a klutz I am," I rasped, still trying to flow air into my lungs. "I did try to warn you, you know. You were about to walk straight into the pond," the man defended. "Ok. I'll give you that." Miraak helped me to my feet after I finally regained my composure. "Oh, great," I sighed at the muck covering me head-to-toe. "I look so unprofessional." He skimmed over the grime coated over my outfit before scooping a clump of mud and smearing some over his robes. "I suppose we'll both have to look unprofessional, then." My cheeks tainted a dark pink at his actions, but I decided to blame it on the nip in the air.

My arms hugged my body when I started to shiver. Going for a dip in late autumn definitely wasn't the best of choices. Miraak scanned over the map and pinpointed our distance from Morthal. "We won't be able to arrive there before nightfall. We still have an hour left to go," he informed. I groaned to myself in reply. "Guess we'll have to make camp, then." He nodded, gesturing me to follow him.

In a matter of minutes, he had already secured a decent campfire and was now assembling the tent. Meanwhile, I was sitting on a nearby log with my bedroll enveloped around my trembling body. I was enjoying watching him, though. "I'd say you're a natural. When did you get so skilled at camping?" I inquired once he took a seat next to me. "By learning from you," he stated simply. Gods, how could he be such a jerk yet act so charming?! I avoided saying anything more and began scrubbing the dirt from my armor with a wet rag.

It was freezing, tonight. There was no comforting glow from the moon and stars due to the thick layer of clouds overhead, which only made it feel colder. I shuddered when a breeze travelled through the area and tormented my body. I was still wearing my undershirt and trousers, and even those were still damp. The cloth made my fingers sting the more I used it, until I felt Miraak's hand take ahold of my own. "Your fingers are red," were the only words that left his mouth before he grabbed my other hand and squeezed them both gently. I was so shocked by this that I couldn't even so much as blink. "Are you cold?" I had forgotten about the prickles climbing over my skin. "Um--uhh, kind of." How did my voice become so small?

Before I could protest, I was pulled closer to Miraak. And now that I left exposed, he felt even warmer than he did earlier. I wasn't even touching him! Not to mention how nice his hands felt. He was like a portable smelter! I stayed more silent than a moth as he continued to caress my fingers and palms. There was no telling what was going on inside of that brain of his.

"You may lean against me, if you like."

Oh.

Oh!

My heart was thrashing around inside of my chest. He wanted me to just... slide even closer and lean on him?! Just like that?! By now, my mind was spiraling in both confusion and embarrassment. Still, I was very cold. There wasn't any harm in doing it, right? He was the one who offered. I ultimately accepted his proposal.

It started off with our knees touching awkardly, and then with my head attempting to rest against his shoulder, which failed due to the golden scales protruding out from his sleeve and jabbing me in the side of the head. Miraak eventually lifted his arm, inviting me to scooch under it-- to which I did. As soon as I got situated, he let his hand ease onto my shoulder. I was so flustered that I could barely breathe. It was suffocating, practically unbearable, yet I only felt myself nestling further into him. "You're really warm," I mumbled.

Oh, dear.

Why on Nirn did I say that? I sounded like a pervert!!! What if he thought I was creepy?! My heart dropped as he held me still and turned to look at me. "Y/n, how do you feel?" It was made to be a question, but it sounded more of a demand. I sat tense for a long while, lips parted yet unmoving. "About...?" I gulped when he slowly placed my hand flat against his chest. I could feel his heart throbbing at a rapid pace, as was mine. "Me."

Miraak's voice was low and sounded on edge. Perhaps he was more nervous than I thought he was? My next movements were reckless. Recklessness seemed to be my only sense of courage, right now. I carefully drew his hand towards me and slipped off his glove. He didn't stop me, however his muscles twitched under my touch. I stared at his pale skin for a long while. It was decorated with veins and had a scar stretched over his knuckles. Thanks to the protection of his gloves, his fingernails were in prestine condition. In short, his hands were utterly glorious.

I tilted my face down and pressed my lips against his scar, leaving him breathless. "Does that answer your question?" I asked Miraak with a flushed grin. Without responding, he brushed his thumb over my cheek and felt the entirety of my features. His hand was so calloused and smoothe! I cupped my own against it, keeping it there for as long as possible. Once again, I was pulled into another embrace, this one being much tighter and affectionate. Neither of us decided to speak, and somehow it felt more befitting that way.

With my head resting against Miraak's chest, I could hear his heartbeat quite clearly. It was much slower compared to earlier, more soothing than anything. He wasn't very sure where to place his hands, so he kept one firm on my waist and the other rubbing my hair. Sure, my face was hotter than a bonfire and there was still panic fresh on my mind. Then again, I also felt so calm in his arms. This may have been the first time in my life where I actually felt normal. Everything around me simply fell into place. It was selfish of me to inwardly beg for this moment to never end. As a dragonborn, I had my responsibilites, but for now I kicked those responsibilities aside. I had the right to be selfish every now and then.

"Maybe I should go diving into swamps more often," I teased, breaking through the comfortbale silence. I felt my heart flutter in the midst of him vibrating a soft chuckle. "That would certainly be an entertaining idea. Though I might not get the same reaction from you each time." I peered up at my new love interest with a quirked brow. "What kind of reaction?" In one swift motion, Miraak nudged up his mask to his nose and blessed me with a kiss. It was quick and simple, hardly lingering over my lips in time for me to process it. It was as if I had just imagined it!

Even so, the blush stained on my cheeks was already spreading to my ears. This man was a complete menace. His mask was already tipped back down, but the coy smile he was holding was evident. "You bastard," I hissed. He only shrugged his shoulders at me. "If you fall into the swamp again, I may even give you another kiss," Miraak jested. I proceeded to whack his bicep.

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

I bet Miraak got those plump ass lips :^3

[starcrossedkaiju]

Kingslayer AU: Chapter Four

I would say this is where the plot really kicks up. Especially next chapter.

\\ Warnings: blood, violence, guns //

Home was quiet under the overcast winter sky. A blanket of snow covered everything in sight. Scott shoved his hands in his pockets and shivered away the chill creeping down his back. It was beginning to snow more heavily as the evening set in on the server.

Winter never faired well with him, it made his hands and knees weak, and stuck him with a near constant headache. Most ailments rendered him bedridden if it was cold enough outside. He hoped he wouldn’t get sick.

Jimmy had hurried them into Scott’s home quickly after entering the walls. It wasn’t really Scott’s anymore as both of them had been sharing the space for quite a while. There was evidence of each of them strewn about.

It could do with some cleaning but the clutter made it feel more natural.

Safer, perhaps.

Scott took his shoes and jacket off. He left them near the door so no muck would get tracked into the house. It was cold inside from a week of being neglected, not a lamp had been left on after he went to see the Sand People.

One glance at his bed proved to be the nail in the coffin. He climbed into the loft and lay down, his head hit the pillow and he was out.

*****

Water trickled across the ceiling. It dropped down and landed on Scott’s cheek. Plunk Plunk Plunk.

Scott blinked into awareness and looked for the source of his awakening, only to find that it was completely dark. Panic surged through him and he sat up quickly only to hit his head on a hard surface. His hands flew out in surprise and hit two stone walls.

“What,” he breathed.

The floor beneath him was damp from perpetual rain seeping into the cell.

“No,” he whispered repeatedly.

The darkness was suffocating this time, he couldn’t calm down, he knew he’d run out of air eventually. Maybe the lack of oxygen was finally making him go crazy, imagining the walls were getting closer and closer. Scott pushed himself up against the corner and hugged his knees to his chest.

The water that woke him up seemed to flow more like a waterfall now. It hit the jagged floor and slowly approached the corner Scott had decided to glue himself to, but it didn’t stop. The water only grew deeper and deeper. He was too tired to even care. Death seemed like a more peaceful option then trying to escape.

He would drown in his tomb alone, and they would get away with it.

*****

Scott’s eyes flew open. This time not to a completely dark stone tomb, but a softly moonlit bedroom. His bedroom.

A weight from behind him made itself known.

Jimmy must have gotten into bed with him earlier that night. The covers were pulled over both of them.

Scott turned around and leaned into his sleeping husband’s arms, taking a few moments to assure himself of his surroundings; and that he was safe at home.

Sensing that his night of sleep had been cut short, Scott meticulously unwrapped himself from Jimmy’s arms and replaced himself with a pillow.

His socks masked most of the noise he made as he exited the room and partially closed the door behind him. It was deathly silent when he unhooked his coat (the one he didn’t ruin) from its place on the wall, equipped his boots, and slipped outside.

The contrast of warmth from inside to outside made Scott’s eyes water. His hands were safe inside his mittens when he brushed some snow off his front steps and sat down.

It was a bit windy outside, breeze funneled through the valley and into the Hobbit town. It bounced off the hills and dissipated into the air. Scott wished he’d brought his telescope so he could admire the sky, which was clear at the moment. A lonely band of the Milky Way sliced across the cosmos to the west.

Stargazing always filled him with a feeling of yearning. He couldn’t remember why, or even when it had started, but ever since he found himself on this server with borders and rules he felt out of place. Not just in the way he looked, but being grounded for so long. Scott had trouble understanding the ways of this world. It was obvious that he didn’t quite fit.

The snow had died down since they arrived hours earlier, nobody had cleared it for a while so it was near shin deep. Every inch of the landscape was buried, including the entrance to their enchanting room, and all the flowers that would typically adorn the forest floor.

Something was wrong.

Scott couldn’t put his finger on it. Coming to alertness, he scanned the scenery like a hawk until he saw it.

Footprints.

Fresh. Footprints.

Directly in front of his home, they came right up to the first step and no further. There was multiple sets fanning out across the lawn area. He could see all three sets from his perch.

Scott froze with fear. Someone had paid a visit in the middle of the night while they were asleep. He wondered why, but he knew.

He was about to get up and lock himself inside when he felt something step on the creaking stairs right behind him. Scott’s eyes flicked to the side for a split second before he instinctively stood up and attempted to flee down the remaining steps, but he didn’t make it.

A hand instantly wrapped around his forearm and wrenched him backwards, he fell into an armored torso. A gloved hand clapped over his mouth, and an arm snaked under his own to render them paralyzed.

“It would be in your best interest not to scream Major,” a terrible Scottish accent made itself known. Scott nearly rolled his eyes.

Of course, this dramatic fool had to come and ruin his night. One thing was for certain, he was not getting kidnapped again.

A sharp object poked at his ribs.

“Just a precaution,” someone said in a falsely apologetic tone. No doubt it was Skizzle.

That meant that he was being immobilized by Martyn. He should have known really, that man followed the Red King anywhere. Upon the ladder’s orders, he escorted Scott down the steps and across the snow stricken grounds, just next to Jimmy’s “house” that they’d mainly been using as storage for the odds and ends that didn’t fit in Scott’s place.

The hand was removed from his jaw and he jolted his head away with a mirthful expression. He fixed his eyes directly where he assumed Ren’s were beneath his sunglasses; which he was wearing in the dead of night. Asshole.

Skizzle stood next to Ren with an imposing posture, as Martyn had a free hand to hold his own weapon with. The weapon being an enchanted diamond axe which he held with a sort of pride.

“You know,” Ren began, “I must give it to you Major, that escape you pulled off was impressive,” he spoke in an unbothered manner and ground his foot upon a rock somewhere under the snow.

“Why are you doing this, Ren?” Scott cut to the chase. He was uninterested in games.

“You aren’t even a red lifer. You can’t kill me,” he added.

Ren scoffed. He adjusted his glasses, “and who exactly is policing that rule?” he said with a knowing quirk of an eyebrow.

“Grian?”a beat passed, “you?!” he began to laugh to himself. Skizzle and Martyn joined in momentarily.

“More green lifers have killed people than red at this stage, so don’t get on me about that,” he said.

“These are my walls,” Scott pointed out.

“That’s funny, you didn’t seem to have much respect for our walls earlier did you,” Martyn said close to Scott’s ear. He pulled away.

“Can I at least be let in on why you’re picking on me of all people?” Scott asked with no enthusiasm.

“Don’t tell me you went on and forgot that Timmy dearest is responsible for the deaths of myself and Skizzle,” Ren shot back, leaning into the other’s personal space.

Everyone looked between each other, “among other things,” Ren added.

Skiz nodded in agreement and sent a meaningful glare towards Scott’s house, where a dim light was on in the bedroom.

Scott’s mouth hung open in rueful shock, “that’s what all this is about? It was an accident,” he shouted. Which earned him a light punch in the side.

“Be quiet,” Martyn warned.

“You know he didn’t mean it! He was sorry and you know it. The only reason you’re even here right now is because it was an accident. Don’t do this to him,” Scott half pleaded but he was more angry.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot. You’re buddy buddy with the people who want to kill us too. Hmm, maybe you are familiar with the term ‘covering our bases’?” Ren added.

“This isn’t all about your perfect little life Major,” Ren dropped the accent and took Scott by the front of his jacket.

“Things are going to change around here for all of us, and it starts with your Timmy paying his dues,” he said.

Scott’s face pulled into a scowl. He thrust his head forward vigorously, the plastic CRACK of Ren’s sunglasses on impact split through his ears as he saw the “Red” King stagger backwards.

Before his goons could decide their next moves Scott lifted his foot up behind him quickly, glad he’d decided to wear his heavier boots on a whim as they collided with an unfortunate set of unmentionables.

The owner of the unmentionables keeled over. He all but threw the axe out of his hands, which Scott graciously took for himself. He tore himself free and swung around, bringing the back of the axe down on Martyn’s bowed head. Purposefully omitting the sharpened blade from the equation.

Skull met stick with a loud THWACK; and Martyn’s body went limp. The Hand fell on his side into the snow with a muffled thump.

Scott admired his work for a moment and considered it even for the lingering purple bruise still on the side of his own face.

There was no time to waste though, he turned back to the remaining members of Dogwarts with a new feeling of control.

Ren’s face was still buried in his hands. No doubt sporting a wicked nosebleed from being head-butted. His glasses were nowhere to be found. Somewhere in the deep snow.

Scott’s attention turned to Skiz now. Who was in battle position.

It was not a fair fight by any means. The Red Army was decked out in their signature crimson dyed armor (not great for sneaking around but they weren’t much into that) and their iconic shields which Scott thought were a bit ugly.

Nobody was immune to quick thinking though. Even with all that armor, a man can’t be immune to a kick in the nuts.

Skizzle made the first move. He pushed off his heel and swung his sword vertically in Scott’s direction. The ladder, shieldless, jumped out of the way. Skizzle regained his composure and ran after him like a blood sniffing shark. Scott ran away from him in as dead a sprint that can be achieved in knee deep snow, letting his pursuer gain some momentum before he sharply turned around and plunged his axe blade into the thick wood of Skiz’s shield.

The aforementioned momentum caused Skiz to keep moving while his Sheild was ripped from his arm attached to the sharp blade of Scott’s (new) shiny axe. Both of them fell over in the snow.

Wanting to get the jump, Scott staggered to his feet and sat on top of Skizzle to keep him on the ground. They pushed back and forth with their respective blades until Scott was thrown off the other, who immediately slashed his sword at him but missed by a hair.

Scott rolled away clumsily with the shield on his arm and used the handle of his axe to stand up just in time for another barrage of slashes that audibly cut through the air. Scott blocked them with his shield and with the hilt of his axe, managing to repel his opponent for enough time to get his share of hits.

“You’re using the wrong side of the axe, man!” Skizzle pointed out after being beat a few times with the non-lethal side of Scott’s weapon, which he was using his armored forearms to fend off.

“Would you rather me use the other?” Scott replied.

They went back and forth in a struggle to gain control of their respective fights, of which had seen them travel to the corner of the Hobbits’ walls where two hills flattened out and created an amphitheater with a perfect stage in the center.

The metallic clashing of weapons filled the area, Skizzle managed to wrap Scott in a chokehold, the shield had been thrown to the sidelines amongst the struggle, with a blade growing ever nearer to his throat. Scott held off the oncoming sword by brute strength alone, his hand braced against his opponent’s forearm and shook with the effort.

“This is it for you,” Skizzle strained, “no more games,” he said.

Scott answered with a war cry. He knocked the other’s chest with his elbow and threw both of them forwards a bit, just enough to wriggle free and get away from the blade. While Skiz wasn’t guarding his midsection, Scott jabbed the handle of his weapon into the space between Skiz’s chest plate and armored leggings.

A breathless cough was all that came from the man behind him, followed by a drawn out whine, then a satisfying thud and the clunking of armor as it fell into the snow.

There was no place to celebrate his victory however, when a very angry, bloody nosed king strode up to the crime scene. Ren’s expression told Scott that he wasn’t a fun target to play with anymore. Tougher than he looked, perhaps.

The leader of Dogwarts trudged menacingly up to Scott, who made to raise his weapon but instead was greeted by a fist in his face. The force threw him to the ground, where Ren’s heavy red boot descended upon his chest. A blade sliced into the hard ground next to Scott’s ear. His axe was yanked from his hands and thrown somewhere behind them by Ren.

“Alright Major. Perhaps I underestimated your capabilities,” Ren practically spat, “It’s a shame really. You would have been such an attractive addition to the Red Army,” he said with a mocking sadness.

“That was supposed to be your sales pitch?” Scott strained.

Scott could feel rivulets of blood flowing down his face from his nostrils, it seeped into his mouth and tasted like he’d eaten iron shavings. His hands were clasped around Ren’s ankle and foot, trying to alleviate the stress that was on his rib cage. He liked being able to breathe after all.

“You’ve clearly proven too much for my army to handle,” Ren jerked Scott by the front of his shirt, as if he was the one to blame for his army’s failure.

“But I digress. I guess I’ll kill you now,” the Red King smiled down at him with a devious grin, and shoved him harshly to the ground.

Scott could see that his eyes were a striking yellow, set back in his head a bit so that they were perpetually shadowed by his eye sockets. Strands of white and brown hair fell around his face, and his right ear twitched upon his head.

His vision was swimming dangerously close to blacking out as Ren hoisted his weapon, a glimmering diamond axe with a gold accented handle, above his head. Scott shut his eyes and prepared for the cold hard inevitable when a loud POP ricocheted off the amphitheater walls. Followed by a dull plunk.

The axe fell from Ren’s hands like it was knocked away. He jumped like he’d been startled. His eyes were blown wide, and Scott thought he might look scared.

Ren raised a shaky hand to his right shoulder, turning it a bit so he could see, he gently touched the surface of his arm. His fingertips came back covered in a layer of blood.

He began to slowly turn around, Scott sat up on his elbow to follow his line of sight.

Standing in the entrance to the amphitheater, in the snow that had been disturbed by the previous altercation, was a furious looking Jimmy.

His hunting rifle was still raised and aimed at the Red King, smoke poured from the barrel and floated into the frigid air.

Ren stood up and faced Jimmy, an out of place smile gracing his countenance.

“Well! Looks like we have a full party now, I was wondering when the special guest was going to show up,” he teased.

“Your little friend here put up quite the fight,” Ren took Scott by the back of his hood and lifted him out of the obfuscating layer of snow.

“You just don’t stop talking do you,” Jimmy said sternly. He didn’t move an inch, and his finger was poised on the trigger of his father’s old gun.

Ren had stopped talking. He resorted to staring down his nose at the other man.

“Get out of my walls, Ren,” Jimmy demanded.

“Now hold on dude, we’re not finished here,” Ren prefaced.

“No, I think we are done here!” Jimmy raised his voice.

“You’re going put him down right now,” he ordered, “take your men, and leave my home,” Jimmy yelled.

“Or what?” Ren asked, although it was more of a last ditch effort than a promise of more to come.

“Or I aim for your head next time,” Jimmy deadpanned.

Ren chewed his bottom lip pensively, seeming to consider his options before rendering himself rightfully defeated. He nodded curtly, and tossed the battered Scott at Jimmy’s feet. He strode over to Skizzle and kicked him encouragingly in the side, gathering him up and then going to retrieve Martyn, whom he had Skizzle sling over his shoulder.

The Red Musketeers vacated the Hobbit’s walls, going through the door they broke down on the way in. Jimmy kept his rifle trained on them until he was sure they weren’t coming back. Then he turned back to Scott, shakily flipping the safety of the rifle back on.

“Scott,” Jimmy called out, “hey, can you hear me?” it was too familiar.

“I’m fine,” Scott assured; but his husband wasn’t having it. He took the other’s face in his hands gently and assessed the damage.

“I think you have a concussion,” Jimmy observed.

“I think I could have used your help a bit earlier,” Scott joked, but Jimmy didn’t smile, “I mean I knew you were a heavy sleeper but this is ridiculous”, he added.

Jimmy helped him up and he wobbled a bit before taking in the scene he’d made. A clear path of action stretched from the front door of Jimmy’s house to the Western Wall where the amphitheater was. Some of the snow was red with blood.

Jimmy took Scott’s arm and pulled him into a half embrace, “let’s go back inside. You’re freezing,” he whispered.

“Wait,” Scott said.

He started sifting through the snow, eventually pulling out the axe he’d stolen from Martyn. Ren had retrieved his and Skiz’s weapons before leaving. He held it up and flipped it over in his hands a few times gleefully. Then, he trudged over to Jimmy’s front door and found Ren’s discarded shades under some red stained snow. The right lens was cracked down the middle, hairline fractures branched off of it.

He held the sunglasses up for Jimmy to see with a proud grin, waving them around in the air.

“How’d you manage that?” Jimmy asked, dumbfounded.

“I went like BAP!” Scott articulated as he pretended to head butt Jimmy to demonstrate, “and they must have come right off! Look at that, a perfect trophy,” he bragged.

“You know, I didn’t question why he wasn’t wearing them because I didn’t think that even he was enough of a dick to wear sunglasses in the dead of night,” Jimmy said.

“Now, inside,” he pointed to the door.