#you two know we have a giant AU to finish writing?

[tkwrites]

He's Got It Bad - Quinn Hughes x ofc

gif by 40ep

Title: He’s got it bad

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (OFC) 

Warnings: Swearing, lots of teasing & chirping, mild spoilers if you've never seen the original Jurassic Park.

Summary: When Sarah meets the team at Conor's birthday party, not only does she get to know Quinns teammates and their partners, she enters a world she never expected. At practice the next day, the guys congratulate and tease Quinn mercilessly.

Word Count: 2,600

Comments: I’m sorry this one took me so long, Daisy! I started it two or three months ago, but couldn’t find the right way to finish it. And then earlier this week, as I was falling asleep, it just snapped into place. I hope you enjoy it! 

As before, the research described here is dubious at best, so please take it with a big grain of salt.

If you did enjoy this, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

dasiysthings asked: If you’re taking requests/suggestions for Quinn and Sarah au doing a Sarah meeting the team for the first time has been on my mind lately. What would they think of her? Sure Quinn’s mentioned her and they saw sarah in the stands her first game but maybe she attends a team function like birthday party or team family meal. Something low key and not public maybe? Also how much do they tease Quinn after?🫣🤭

He’s got it bad

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

“Are you free on Thursday?” 

It was a rare night off, and he’d requested they order food and watch a movie. Currently, they were lounging in a giant bean bag in the gaming room. Quinn was partially on top of Sarah, his head resting on her chest as the first Jurassic Park played on the large screen.

“I think so. Why?”

“Garly’s having a party that night for his birthday. I hoped you might want to come with me.” 

“Who?”

“Garly,” he repeated before correcting himself, “Conor. Garland. From the team.”

Quinn had mentioned Conor before, and she knew he was one of the trio of guys he was really close to.  

“Sure,” she said, hoping her voice sounded more confident than she felt. “Who will be there?”

“Most of the guys and their partners if they have them.”

“Is it going to be wild?” she asked, winding one of his curls around her finger. She needed to prepare herself if it was going to be a night full of drinking. 

“Nah, Conor’s pretty chill, and we have a game the next day.”

“Okay,” she agreed again, splaying her fingers through his dark waves, letting them slip and slide over her skin. For someone who washed it so often, he had remarkably soft hair. 

 Nuzzling into her chest a little more, he sighed. He loved when she played with his hair.

Sarah jumped when the Dilophosaurus appeared on screen, tilting its head at Nedry. 

Quinn laughed. She hadn’t even flinched when the T-Rex had tried to attack the kids through one of the park cars. “You okay?”

“I hate this one,” she said, turning her head to the side. 

He glanced at the TV in time to see the dinosaur hiss and pop its frill. “You hate this more than the T-Rex?” 

“At least the T-Rex is just a big predator. This one stalks and tortures first, and I hate it,” she said, face still turned away. 

“But Nedry deserved it.” 

“Maybe so, but I still don’t like to think about it.” 

He chuckled.

Only after the yells faded away did she turn back to the movie and continue tracing her fingers through his hair. 

By the time Thursday came around, Quinn realized just how nervous Sarah was. She texted him about the dress code three hours before he was supposed to pick her up.

It’s a party, he’d written back, unsure of what she meant. 

Yeah, but is it like a heels and cocktails party? Or a backyard barbecue party?

Well, it’s been raining all week, so I’m pretty sure we’ll be indoors.

Don’t be a smartass. 

Just casual. Food and drinks. 

She’d called him then, and he’d answered, confused. “Hey?” 

“I just…” she began, “this is the first time I’m meeting most of your teammates and their girlfriends and I don’t want to be the only one in jeans when everyone else is in dresses. I want to make a good impression.” 

“You’ll make a good impression no matter what you’re wearing.”

A breath blew out of her nose, whistling by the phone speaker, “you don’t get it.” 

“Don’t I?” 

“Quinn, you wear the same thing all the time.” 

“First of all, I do not.”

He continued before she could get out her retort that Brady could back her up on this fact. “And secondly, everything I’ve seen you wear would be fine for this. You always look nice.”

And he meant it. Even in her aquarium uniform, which consisted of a blue t-shirt or polo with the aquarium logo and whatever pants she happened to be wearing that day, she always looked put together.

She made some noise in her throat like she thought he was telling tales. 

“Look, you might get some looks if you showed up in a trash bag or something.” 

Laughter barked out of her mouth. “Why would I ever wear a trash bag?” 

“I don’t know. I’m just saying that barring an unhinged trash bag outfit, you’ll be fine. People are just excited to meet you.” 

“You told them I’m coming?” she asked, feeling sudden nerves attack her stomach. 

“Yeah. Conor suggested I invite you. The guys want to meet you.” Plus, ever since she'd met Brady, he'd wanted her to meet everyone in his life.

“Oh,” she said quietly. 

“Just wear what you feel comfortable in, and I’ll pick you up at six, okay?” 

“Yeah, okay,” Sarah said, feeling even more anxious than before she’d called him.

She couldn’t even wear her go-to outfit for when she was nervous. St. Patricks day was the next weekend, and she’d asked Quinn to come to her uncles and needed the green dress for that. Plus, it was freezing and sleety outside. A dress was not the way to go. 

Jane walked by, and Sarah called her in. 

“What happened here?” Jane asked, taking in the clothing spread all over Sarah’s usually tidy room, and Sarah herself standing in her underwear. 

The only thing she could decide on was the blue bra, which always made her feel confident and sexy. She’d paired it with a matching pair of underwear.

“I’m going to a party with some of Quinn’s teammates tonight,” she said. 

Janes eyes widened with what Sarah thought was the appropriate amount of concern. 

“So I’m trying to figure out what to wear. The dress is out,” she said, gesturing to where it was hanging in the closet. 

Jane bit her lip, surveying the chaos. “My vote is for those boyfriend jeans that make your thighs look killer,” she said. 

Sarah breathed a sigh of relief, glad to have someone express a definitive opinion. She’d put those same jeans on earlier but stripped them right back off, worried all the other women would be in fancier dress. “You don’t think they’ll be too casual?” 

“What kind of a party is it?” 

“Birthday.”

Jane looked her over, “you’ll be fine. Killer jeans, nice top. Quinn won’t know what hit him.” 

She pulled the jeans on, hopping as she tugged them over her hips, “thanks. I’m just so nervous.” 

Jane sat on her bed and began putting shirts back on their discarded hangers, “I don’t think you need to be.” 

“No?”

She shook her head, “from the way he was looking at you when he stayed for dinner that night you guys made up, I’m not sure anything could put him off you.”

Sarah felt her cheeks flush. 

“Anyway,” Jane said, pulling a purple blouse out from underneath her, “I think you should wear this. It looks good with your eyes.”

“Thanks, Jane,” she said, gathering the other woman into a hug, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

Sarah was already in the lobby when Quinn pulled up to her building. She wore medium wash jeans a dark raincoat. He appreciated that she was wearing flat boots instead of some fussy heel. She threw the hood up to block the rain before running out to his car. 

When they got to the house, he opened the door without knocking before leading her inside. There was a coat rack already brimming with wet jackets, and Sarah stripped hers off to hang up with the others. 

Quinn stopped in his tracks halfway through unzipping his own jacket. 

He thought he’d seen all of Sarah’s clothes. Which was a stupid notion now that he thought about it — they hadn’t been dating for that long — but she tended to wear a kind of uniform.

Today, though, her jeans fit her like a glove — clinging to the curves of her thighs and hips. He was certain she’d never worn them before. He would have remembered. Seeing her in them now, he wished she’d given him some kind of warning.

When he didn’t follow her, Sarah turned, which was worse. The purple blouse she wore skimmed over her breasts and had a pattern embroidered around the collar. The color somehow made her eyes brighter and lips more pink. He had no idea that could happen.

He felt like he needed to catch his breath as a surge of attraction reared in his stomach.

Not only were the guys going to tease him mercilessly for being with someone new, he was going to have to watch her in those jeans all night. The mental exertion it was going to take to not pop a boner was already making him tired. 

Before his mind could truly go to war about the pros and cons of just turning to go back to his place, Conor called out, “Huggy? Is that you?” 

Too late to turn back now. “Yeah,” he said, not taking his eyes off Sarah. 

“Huggy?” she repeated.

“It’s a long story.”

The thrill of touching her reared to life again as he took her hand to guide her into the house. He made his mind focus on math equations for the walk into the kitchen and hoped it would be enough. 

“Hey!” Conor greeted, immediately grasping Quinn in a hug when they walked into the kitchen.  “You must be the elusive Sarah Huggy won’t stop telling us about,” he said as they broke apart.

“Good things, I hope,” Sarah joked as they shook hands.

“Well, he certainly didn’t lie about how pretty your eyes are,” a woman said, coming up to stand next to Conor, running her hand along his forearm before entwining their fingers.

The color that pinked her cheeks made Quinn’s knees want to buckle. God, he was in deep.

The strange thing was that he wasn’t scared about it. That had to mean something good.

“I’m Meghan, and this is Conor,” she said with a bright, friendly smile. 

More introductions were made, and Sarah tried to keep track of everyone, but there were at least 40 people there, and she felt instantly overwhelmed. She should have known. She knew how many people were on a hockey team, but it was still a little shocking to meet everyone all at once. 

They were absorbed into one of the small groups of people, and Sarah sipped from her seltzer only to find it was lemon flavored, not pineapple like she'd expected. She frowned at the can. 

“Do you want something different?” Quinn asked, noticing the disappointed look on her face.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Conor and JT glance at each other. 

“No, it’s okay. I was just expecting pineapple, so the lemon was a bit of a shock.”

“There’s pineapple in there,” Meghan said, gesturing with her own can. 

“I’ll get you one,” he said, turning to the fridge. 

She caught his arm and he turned back, “it’s fine, Quinn. This one’s already open. It’s not a big deal. Most seltzer tastes the same anyway.” 

“I’m glad someone can finally admit that,” Brock said, lifting his beer to his lips.

His pretty blonde girlfriend smacked him on the arm, “just because you can’t tell the difference doesn’t mean no one else can.”

Sarah smiled at them. They were cute together - like a model midwestern couple. 

“So, Sarah,” JT said, pulling her focus, “Quinn tells us you work at the aquarium.” 

She went through her usual explanation of her schooling and research.

“Tell them about Tuesday,” Quinn prompted. 

Everyone in the group looked between them expectantly. JT and Conor shared another glance. 

“What happened Tuesday?” Natalie asked, taking the bait right away. 

“Well, I’ve been doing a lot of experiments with Walter to see if he can taste my mood.”

“What?” 

“Octopus have tastebuds and nerve endings in every suction cup that far surpass our own, so I’ve been wondering if he can taste the hormones on my skin. Anyway, I sprayed some Cortisol, which is the hormone that releases when you’re stressed, on my hands to see how he’d react, and he went from seemingly happy to see me to very subdued almost immediately.” 

“Whoa,” Brock said. 

“Yeah,” she agreed, eyes brightening. “It was really amazing. With some more experiments, I think I could probably use this as the basis research for my thesis.” 

“Exactly how did this guy convince you to date him?” JT asked, pointing at Quinn.

Natalie smacked his arm. 

“No, I’m serious. You’re really smart. You know Huggy didn’t even finish college, right?” 

What the hell was this nickname? 

“I did finish college,” Quinn interrupted, “I graduated last year.” 

“Whatever,” JT said with a dismissive hand as if that detail didn’t matter. “Does he have you under some sort of mind control?” 

Sarah laughed out loud, and Quinn’s eyes darted to her, catching her wide open smile. 

“Cause she couldn’t just like me,” he defended, sarcastically

“A girl like this? This pretty and this smart?” JT asked, “it’s hard to believe, Huggy.” 

Even though she could see the glint of humor in his eyes and knew he was only teasing, Sarah still stepped in, “Nope. No mind control.” She emphasized the statement by reaching for his hand, “You know as well, probably better than I do that Quinn has really great qualities. He's a really good guy.” 

JT leaned back on the counter, a jokingly suspicious look still on his face as he glanced between them. 

Quinn could feel himself blushing. He didn’t mean for Sarah to come to his defense like that. He didn’t mean to put her in that position. All the same, he was a little glad for it. JT had a way of teasing a persons insecurities right out of them, and to know Sarah didn’t feel the same way eased something in him. 

“Our daughter loves the aquarium,” Natalie cut in fluidly as if she was used to smoothing over her husbands’ aggressive teasing.

“Let me know the next time you come by,” Sarah said without missing a beat, “I’ll give you a personal tour.”

“Oh, she’d love that. We’ll have to get a group of us together.” 

JT gave her a genuine smile, and Sarah let a little breath go in her chest. 

At the next mornings practice, Quinn ran through drills and exercises, ears pricked for the inevitable teasing he knew would be coming his way. 

To his surprise, it didn’t come until the end, after he’d showered and was dressing in his stall.

“Dude, you've got it bad,” Joshua teased as he walked by, “I’ve never seen you look at someone like that,” he said, adopting a sappy, lovestruck expression. 

“I don’t know if you can top the way he was about to chuck that can of seltzer away from her because she didn’t like it,” JT said.

“Right?” Conor agreed, laughing, “‘Do you want something different? Let me get you a new can.’” He mimed rushing around searching. 

“Don’t forget the first time he told us about her,” Brock cut in, “he was like fucking Aladdin, ‘she’s got these eyes.’” 

Joining in the laughter, Quinn tossed his towel in their direction. 

Conor caught it easily. “Our little Huggy’s in love,” he teased, elongating the last word into several syllables. 

“Guys,” he said, leveling them with a look he hoped would shut the conversation down. “We’ve only known each other 9 weeks.” 

“So you’ve been keeping track,” Brock surmised, glancing around with a knowing expression. 

Guess he may as well get comfortable in this hole he dug for himself.

He’d dished out this same chirping when Brock had brought Bella around for the first time and knew it was best to just let it lie, and eventually, it would become old news. 

When he didn’t deny it, the boys around him all whooped and hollered enough that everyone else in the room looked over.

“Seriously though,” JT went on, “I have no idea how you landed her, but she’s a great girl."

"And,” he continued with a smirk, “if you ever get bored of her, I'm sure Kuzy’ll take her off your hands. He wouldn’t stop looking at her all night.” 

Quinn glared, more offended at the insinuation he would get bored of Sarah. 

JT laughed, raucous and loud, “Oh, he’s got it bad, alright.”

He couldn’t stop the flush that rushed into his cheeks. 

“Don't worry, Huggy. No one's gonna steal your girl.” 

Shaking his head, Quinn shoved his sneakers on.  

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[buckyalpine]

Catch Me If You Can 2/3

Mob!Bucky x single mom police officer

I am so happy you all loved these two so here is more from this AU. I had the story half in mind but wasn’t sure if people would feel it, once again, LMK if you want more! 

Warnings: fluffffff, single mom reader, crappy ex, Mob Bucky is a whole ass warning 

Part 1

Part 3 

-

You woke up to the smell of fresh coffee, sun pouring in the giant room, your body still aching from the night before but the peaceful rest proved to be helpful. You smiled at the steaming cup that sat by your bedside table, picking up the hand drawn card that was placed beside it; giant heart coloured red was in the middle with the words Get Well Soon decorated in bold letters. You grinned, opening the card to read your sons hand writing. 

Dear mommy,

Get well soon. Uncle Bucky says he took good care of you and that you’ll arrest him once you’re all better. He bought me a kinder egg. He seems nice. Maybe give him a running head start. 

Love and kisses and cuddles,

Jordan 

PS: Can we stay a little longer? Peter is still trying to beat me in Mario Kart

On the side of the card were a bunch of other messages, each signed by Bucky’s men. You shook your head at the signatures, your son having asked every one of Bucky’s men to sign the card, well wishes from them all scattered across the paper. A knock at the door broke you away from the card as Bucky peeked in, happy to see you were awake. 

“Where did he get art supplies” You snorted, while Bucky walked in, carrying a tray of eggs and toast. You whispered a quiet thank you as he set it down for you, taking a seat by the edge of the bed. 

“Had Steve pick some up” Bucky couldn't help but chuckle, remembering the way your son had asked him to sign the card before proceeding to go around the house with a glittery pen. 

“He loves to draw” you hummed, tracing over the bright, colourful letters on the smooth paper, the materials clearly from a higher quality art store. As nice as everything was at the moment, tension lingered in the air; the question of how you ended up in this position in the first place still left unanswered. 

“What happened” Bucky spoke softly while you turned away not meeting his gaze. Your jaw clenched as your hand skimmed over the bandage that covered your gash, a dull ache still radiating through your side. 

“It was-nothing” You lied poorly, unsure of to explain the situation to Bucky of all people, “Just some people trying to scare me” 

He didn’t believe it for a second. 

“This was personal doll” Bucky tilted your chin to meet his eyes, knowing damn well even some of the more unruly gang members in the area wouldn’t dare attack a police officer in their home, especially when they had a child. “Who hurt you”

“It doesn’t matter” You shook your head feeling helpless, knowing the problem wasn’t something you’d ever be able to easily get rid of. Bucky chewed his lip, deciding not to press the matter further but he couldn’t help the curiosity that still picked his brain. 

“Jordan came to me...didn’t call 911″ He cocked his head, wondering why your son would chose to come to  his club over easily calling 911 to help you, something you would have surely taught him. (Especially after he had kidnapped him...)

“He goes to people he can trust” You stated, nibbling on the toast, groaning at the grin that spread across Bucky’s face, “Don’t get it twisted, that doesn't mean I trust you” 

“Of course, officer” 

God, he was such a little shit. You hated the way his charming laugh made your insides giddy along with the way he was taking care of both you and your son. As if he could read your thoughts on que, he spoke before you could mentioning leaving. “Stay a little longer”

“Bucky-”

He shook his head, not letting you speak further, urging you to finish breakfast instead. 

“Your home was compromised, the locks were broken off. Let Sam and Steve clear some stuff up a bit and reinstall some new locks. They’re on it right now” 

You wanted to protest but you also knew there was no arguing with him, if all past encounters with his illegal antics proved anything. When he set his mind to something, he did it. This was one of the few times you were secretly happy he was so hard headed. 

“Alright” You smiled softly, cocking your brow at the smirk that danced on his lips immediately after. 

“Can’t promise I won’t give myself a spare, doll” Bucky winked leaving you to finish eating and rest up while he quietly made his way out to make sure your house was taken care of. 

As promised, Sam and Steve had gone above and beyond, cleaning and patching up all the damages, including replacing the broken photo frames that were smashed to bits. The locks they added were far stronger than the ones you had from the Home Depot, clearly purchased from somewhere you had no idea existed. Bucky had dropped you home along with a very excited Jordan who felt like he had Christmas twice this year, hauling bags of art supplies behind him.

“Y’know this changes nothing” You reminded him,  your cheeks warming up at the way he bit his lip, giving you a cocky smirk. 

Little shit. 

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, doll” 

*****

As expected, gang activity was back up and you were back to your job of investigating the latest nonsense Bucky was up to. You seemed to still be the only one concerned about stopping what he was doing while the rest of the department pretended not to see a damn thing. Most of the day would alternate between you trying to do your job and being told to lay off the mob boss. 

The worst was the little traitor that lived under your own roof. 

“Uncle Bucky is kinda like Batman” Jordan stated while you gave him a pointed look, continuing to make him breakfast which now consisted of scrambled eggs and toast, just like how uncle Bucky makes them. 

“Explain”  You knew you were going to regret asking as soon as it came out of your mouth.

“Well, he’s rich. Very rich. He likes to help people. He wears a suit. He stops the bad guys”

“He is a bad guy Jordan” You had your hands on your hip, challenging Bucky’s latest swimfan. 

“But the badder guys! That has to count for something” He peeked at you with hopeful eyes before turning back to his toast, nervously poking at it. “Can I play with Peter?” 

“Peter” You frowned, not remembering any of Jordan’s friends with that name. “Peter who?”

“Paarkerr” He drawled out, blinking up at you while you connected the pieces together, your eyes growing wide. 

“Absolutely not” 

“But moooom” Jordan gave you his best puppy pout, “None of the kids in my class are as good, you told me I should challenge myself” 

“That doesn’t mean you find competition in the house of the Mafia, Jordan!” You scoffed while he slumped his shoulders, hopping off his chair to get ready for school. You knew he was guilting you, acting as if you had refused to feed him for the rest of his life, staring out the car window like a sad puppy on his way to the pound. You kissed him goodbye, promising him you’d “think about it” before driving over to the prescient, most of the day filled with paperwork, a part of your actually thinking about letting Jordan play video games with Peter before you shook some sense back into your head. 

Just because he saved you once didn’t mean you had to let your son play with his junior henchmen. 

*****

You sipped on some tea as evening rolled around after helping Jordan with homework, the rest of his night spent using the newest fancy art supplies he’d gotten. You no longer paid attention to the show on TV, frowning at the unmarked truck that had circled the block twice. Then three times. You carefully reached for a gun tucked under the sofa and stood by the side of the window just out of sight. The SUV came to a stop near your driveway; uncalled for butterflies erupting in your tummy when you realized who it was. 

Bucky stepped out of the truck while you opened the door, your son much quicker than you, slipping past your arm and darting straight outside. 

“Uncle Bucky!!” Jordan grinned, bounding towards the all black SUV, ignoring your calls for him to slow down, maybe not run with so much passion and admiration for a man who had once kidnapped him and taken care of you and nursed you back to health and changed your locks and why the hell were you feeling hot and fuzzy right now. 

“Hey kid” Bucky smiled while you huffed, making your way over, poorly masking the smile that tugged at your lips. 

“Did you get lost Barnes, or were you here to kidnap me today instead?” You teased while Jordan slipped back into the truck to talk to his second favorite “Uncle” Steve. 

“You wound me doll, y’know, I’m not just a heartless gang leader” his facial expression almost the exact same as what Jordan had given you earlier. “Just came to see how you were” He said sincerely, not realizing his heart rate had calmed as soon as he saw you and your little one safe in your home. 

“We’re safe” You nodded, your heart fluttering at the way his gaze softened, scanning the area just to be sure there wasn’t anyone he didn’t recognize lingering near by. 

“Good to know” Bucky murmured, giving you a once over before getting back in the truck and leaving for the night. He didn’t like that he was still in the dark over what your story was. He didn’t like not knowing who hurt you; they were still out there and it made him sick. You didn’t deserve that. Jordan didn’t deserve that. You didn’t need to know that he had done some digging, learning a bit more about you but not enough to get answers. 

You also didn’t need to know that his unannounced visits were more frequent that you realized, sometimes a car circling around Jordan’s school, sometimes a quick roll around the block at midnight. 

Steve and Sam were only able to contain themselves for so long, making their own betting pool over how this would all end. 

They hoped it’d end with them getting a nephew. 

Maybe one day. 

*****

6 missed calls

4 voicemails

100+ text messages

Your jaw clenched watching your phone ring again, the No Caller ID screen shining bright as you ignored the call. Of course you still had the other issue to deal with. One that you had kept hidden ever since you moved to the city. One that had followed and found you over and over again, even after you managed to change your number and address.

The nightmare never stopped.

“You gonna get that? Someone’s been trynna to reach you all day” Your boss piqued as he walked by, curiously eyeing your phone that had been ringing the entire morning and afternoon, eventually muffled when you stuffed it in your bag.  

“It’s fine” You gave him a tight lipped smile, waiting for him to pass by before calling your son’s school and making sure he was still there, informing them to not let anyone else pick him up but you. 

As you drove home with him, you were on edge, your nerves ready to snap, heart rate spiking erratically. Jordan chatted your ear off about how he was still the reigning champion of his video game but you couldn’t help but feel a sense of uneasiness, the same feeling you got the day Bucky rescued you. The same day you were attacked. 

You just knew. 

The front door was still locked as you inserted the key. 

The lights were all still turned off.

But you knew. 

The hairs on your neck stood up as soon as you entered your home, the smell of alcohol enough for you to know who was already inside.

“Babycheeekss” 

Your stomach flipped, the blood in your veins turning into ice as he stepped out from the shadows, his feet crunching over the glass from the window he had broken into. 

Not again. 

“Baby, go upstairs” you whispered to your son, who was reluctant to leave your side, refusing to look at the man that was supposedly his father. You nudged him, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze urging him to leave; the last thing you needed was for him to be further traumatized. Jordan shakily made his way up, stopping at the top of the stairs so he’d still be able to see you, reaching for the baseball bat he had kept by his room. 

Uncle Bucky would be proud of me, he thought, his small hands tightening around the handle, fiercely protective over his mama. 

“Why are you here” You hissed, flashbacks clouding your mind over the way he had broken into your house and didn’t take no for an answer. 

He’d rather have you dead than live peacefully single. 

“To see my son” Your ex shrugged, taking another casual step towards you while you backed up, slowly reaching for your gun. “I mean, he is my son, isn’t he? Unless you think there’s reason to believe he isn’t” Andrew sneered, while you scoffed, your hands trembling, hoping Jordan was safe in his room before you drew your weapon. The last thing you needed was for him to get hurt while protecting the both of you. 

Before you could do anything,  the front door swung open with a bang, your ex’s eyes growing wide, frozen in place, focused on the man that was now behind you. 

You turned around, gasping at the soft baby blue eyes that were peering down at you, his pink lips this time with a deep frown instead of his typical boyish smirk. Bucky gently tugged your arm, pulling you behind him, keeping you far away from your ex who was staring daggers at the both of you. 

“What the fu-”

“Stay away from her” Bucky growled while you ex scoffed, taking a step forward instead. 

“And who the hell are you? Her latest fuck? A new boytoy to play with?” Your ex challenged, unable to hide the quiver in his voice. If not for the seriousness of the situation, Bucky would have laughed. It was a valid question. Who was he to you anyway?

“Mommy?” Jordan padded down the stairs, instantly rushing to your side, his worries washing away when he saw who had come to the rescue. 

“Stay upstairs Jordan” You tried to urge him back upstairs but he stayed rooted in place, not willing to leave if there was someone trying to hurt you. 

“Let me see my son-” Andrew tired to take a step forward but Bucky wasn't having any of it, keeping the both of you behind him, and pushing your ex away. 

“Don’t” Bucky growled, keeping his itching hands away from his gun. It would have taken him all but 1 second to put a bullet between Andrews eyebrows and have the body disposed of within the half hour but he didn’t want to either of you to have to witness that. 

“Hey bud” Your ex tried to reach out for Jordan again, hoping he’d get some leverage if he got him in his hands. “C’mon, you missed me, didn’t ya?” 

Jordan trembled, his small hand clutching onto the back of Bucky’s suit jacket, the other still holding his bat. He shook his head, tightening his grip when he saw the anger flash across his fathers eyes. Bucky reached behind, taking your hand in his, holding it firmly in his grip hoping to ground you. 

“Leave” Bucky stared at your ex, nodding towards the door, giving him a final warning to leave with his life. Andrew glared at him before narrowing his eyes at you and Jordan while he silently left, the look he gave you telling you this wouldn’t be the last time he’d see you. Or so he thought. 

As soon as he was out the door, Bucky immediately turned to you, his hand cupping your face, scanning you up and down for any signs of injury, his features softening when he didn’t see anything. 

“You’re coming with me” Bucky stated, taking your hand in his again, ignoring the way his heart was still beating out of his chest. You wanted to argue against it but you didn’t feel safe in your own home and a hotel didn’t exactly seem like a safer option. 

Perhaps sleeping with the enemy wasn’t so bad...

At least sleeping at his house. 

You cocked an eyebrow, glancing at the door that was perfectly in tact, no signs of a forced entry from when Bucky entered the house. How the hell did he get in. 

“How did you-”

“Told you I’d make myself a spare” Bucky grinned, twirling a small gold key between his fingers, itching to wrap his arms around you. He squeezed his hand to his side instead, letting you go up to pack some things to take to his place while he waited for you outside. 

-

You had agreed to stay at his place until the window as fixed and a security system was installed throughout your house.

Then you agreed to stay for an additional week just to be safe.

Then that turned into two weeks to make sure Jordan was extra safe. 

Then that turned into three weeks while Bucky took care of business. He didn’t tell you what that meant but he promised you’d never have to worry about Andrew again. 

The nature of your relationship was confusing.

You spent time with Bucky, sometimes with Jordan and sometimes all by yourself while both boys ditched you to do something that would probably leave you reeling. There had even been a number of times where Bucky himself had gone to pick up Jordan from school, your little one more than happy to ride in the huge dark truck, any chance he got. 

You had no idea what to do with yourself, screaming internally on a daily basis, wondering why someone who did 101 illegal things a day made you feel giddy, feel safe, feel butterflies, all while quietly tossing a body off into the lake. 

It didn’t matter what you felt. 

It didn’t matter than his charming smile made you melt.

It didn’t matter than he took care of you in every way possible, not once looking at you in a way that was disrespectful. 

Nothing mattered. 

You were both still too different for anything to happen. 

Sweet as Bucky was, nothing would happen between the both of you.

That's just how things had to be. 

You reminded yourself that every night, whenever Jordan rambled on for hours over how much fun he had with uncle Bucky, how he taught him self defense, bought him more art supplies, beat Peter at video games again, got used as a human volley ball between uncle Steve and Sam. 

That's just how things had to be.

Then why were you still in his house. 

- 

“I don’t think I like the name Uncle Bucky anymore” 

“You don’t, huh?” Bucky smirked at his little side kick, your son no longer paying attention to his homework which he now often did in Bucky’s office. He took a sip from his apple house, swirling the ice around the glass cup just as Bucky did with his whiskey, taking another long drag before setting it down. 

“We look alike” Jordan stated, looking up at the mob boss while they both sat on the office couch, neither of them focused on their work anymore. Jordan reached over for the kinder egg that sat on the table, a treat Bucky had bought him for doing well on his math test. 

“We do” Bucky nodded, while Jordan smiled in satisfaction, munching on the chocolate, scooting over a little closer to Bucky. 

“Some people say you look like my dad” He spoke a little more quietly this time, inching closer until he was pressed against Bucky’s side. 

“Uh-huh” Bucky watched Jordan curiously while he assembled the toy, chewing on his bottom lip. 

“Sooo...”

“Soo?” Bucky waited for him to continue while Jordan fidgeted with his kinder egg toy, his eyes now trained on his lap, worried about what the answer would be. 

“Can I call you dad instead?” His voice was small, wavering slightly, unsure how Bucky would react. He held his breath, not daring to look anywhere else, hoping his request wouldn’t upset the mob boss. He didn’t need to know that he’d already been calling Bucky dad in his head for a while.

What would da-uncle Bucky say? 

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyess @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @happyt0exist @emmabarnes @bethyruth @matchat3a @cjand10 @getwellsoontana @cherryschaos @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @ashenc-blog @buckybarnessimpp @potatothots @goldylions @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog @kingfleury @peaches1958 @spiderman-stilinski @peaceinourtime82 @gublur @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46 @lolawassad @almosttoopizza @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess @buckycallsmeaslut @kamaria-sweet-writes @charmedbysarge @xnorthstar3x @kryoee7 @alina02 @gh0stgurl @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @alltheficsiwant @chemtrails-club @eralen @perdidosbucky-yyo @clqrosmgc   @buckybarnessweetheart   @pandaxnienke   @manyfandomsfanvergent

[padawansuggest]

Okay so a lot of us make fun of Qui-Gon for giving Obi-Wan a stone for his birthday, and people seem split on it.

Some people think it shows true apathy towards him, and you know what? Fucking maybe. Sure. Whatever. The authors of those books smoked a lot of Qui-Child-Abandonment-Gon meth and you know what? Whatever.

But some of us like him to genuinely be a good master because guess fucking what else? I don’t care about him but Obi-Wan deserved a master who ADORED his sweet baby boy with all his codependent heart.

And you know what? We’re right too, because he eventually did get there.

Not what I’m here for I’m saying don’t fight me on this because both of us can be right.

But idk if this fact is canon or not but he told Obi-Wan that it was a force sensitive rock.

Why do people mock that aspect of it so much? So many of you say ‘lol nah he just gave the boy a rock’ no????? This entire series is built on force sensitive rocks??????

Kyber. Obvious.

Kyrat Dragon Pearls. They can literally be used as a kyber replacement in a lightsaber, they are THAT powerful.

In the Star Wars Visions episode Journey to the Dark Head, we see a temple of Jedi where seers are sent. They have a courtyard full of head sized round flat stones. When it rains, you pick them up, and certain ones will give you vivid visions of the future. The seers then read the vision out to a keeper who writes down each vision they can while it’s still raining. This happens on a sibling temple.

Star Wars Young Jedi Adventures: there was an episode where one of the main characters, Ky, goes into the forest with another child to finish a small mission. Obviously it’s a lesson in learning to work together, but the point is that they have to find a lantern that’s not glowing, and figure out what to do to get the lantern to glow again. None of these lanterns have a source of electricity, and they can’t be solar powered since they’re in a forest so dense that these lanterns are used regularly to keep the paths lit. As it turns out, they have a chunk of crystal inside, the side of one of their heads, and they both need to work together to make the crystal glow again. That was an obviously force sensitive crystal.

Same show, The Mystery of Opal Cave, in which the main characters stop pirates stealing a bunch of valuable opals from a planet. At the end of the episode, the natives show them what makes the Opal so valuable to them. They touch two opals together, it creates a ringing sound, and in turn, the previously dark cave lights up and all of them start to glow and sing. That was magic af don’t tell me real rocks do that they Do Not.

That fuckass rudesss cave on Mortis that gave everyone weird ass mean dreams and was full of giant crystals. Obviously they projected rudeass force visions meant solely to hurt me feewings.

There are probably a hundred more types I’m forgetting rn. Because. I’m literally just going off the cartoons and a bit of the video games. There are a LOT of force sensitive rocks, they do a lot of weird things.

Now. With that in mind. In an AU where Qui-Gon adored and doted on and loved Obi-Wan from the start (or even just what it likely was in canon, a thoughtful but maybe not adoring gift) he likely would have given Obi-Wan this force sensitive river rock without even realizing it’s abilities.

Let them keep that parent to child connection, I promise, it means a lot.

[ladylooch]

20 Weeks- Miles Wood

A/N: Today, we are checking in on Miles and Kailey after an angsty request for this AU from 👢 anon.

Word Count: 1.6k

Shot in the Dark series page is here.

Hey, are you on your way home? We have to leave in 15.

Babe? Can you please answer?

Okay, I’m just going to assume you’re meeting me there? I’m heading to the clinic.

Miles, I’m checking in at the clinic. Please tell me you are coming.

Kailey stares at the blue bubbles of her iMessages to her husband. The cursor blinks in the text box almost mocking her about sending him another text. She can clearly see the purple half moon that says his iPhone is on Do Not Disturb. He does this for practice- all the boys do, so their phones aren’t going off during coaching meetings or video sessions. Professionally hockey is a business after all. 

But she thought Miles had updated his settings so her notifications got through. At least he told her he had after she became pregnant and they moved to a new state where they only had each other. 

Clearly that wasn’t the case.

Kailey clicks her phone closed, stuffing it into the pocket of her thick, winter jacket. She folds her fingers together between her knees, legs bouncing as she looks towards the clinic door to the left. She scans the windows looking out at the parking lot too, not seeing his car turning in. 

I guess she will be doing their 20 week scan alone. 

A dense lump forms in her throat as she takes in the other women in the waiting room with her. They are all in various stages of pregnancy, most with partners except for her and one other woman who is waiting for a different patient to finish. The realization of everyone having someone here except for her makes it all worse.

“Kailey?” A nurse calls. Kailey hikes up her purse, glancing over her shoulder one more time to see if she can see him coming. But Miles still isn't there.

“No dad today?” The nurse asks immediately, grabbing the labels Kailey was giving at check in. Miles had been at the other two appointments.

“Uh, no.”

“Out of town?”

“Um…” Kailey trails off, pursing her lips. “He got caught up at work.” 

“No problem! I’ll let the front desk know he might be coming, so they can show him back to where we are.” Kailey nods, taking the medical cup the nurse extends for her standard sample. She waddles into the bathroom, doing what needs to be done before rejoining the nurse in the hall. After taking her weight, blood pressure and pulse, Kailey is taken to the lab to pull blood work too. Finally, she is settled into the crinkly sheet covered table with the ultrasound technician.

“Okay! Before we start, do you want to know the gender?”

“Yes, but can you write it down? We want to do it privately.”

“Of course! I’ll let you know when I’m going over that area and I’ll have you close your eyes.”

“Okay.” Kailey nods, bringing her sweater up to just below her breasts, exposing her growing bump. “I feel so much bigger than 20 weeks.” Kailey jokes as the gel is squeezed onto her stomach. Her pulse quickens, feeling anxious and excited all at the same time.

“Yeah, the care team want us to check in on the size of the baby.”

“I should not of had sex with a literal giant.” She chuckles.

“We love who we love.” 

How true that is, even when he is missing one of the biggest milestones of her pregnancy. 

The ultrasound is long and detailed. The technician clicks buttons every few seconds, taking a large amount of snapshots of the baby. Once she is done with an area, she begins to explain.

“Heart looks fabulous. No worries there.”

“The baby is measuring pretty big for your anticipated due date.”

“Spine and neck look great. No weird curves or under development happening.” 

A knock sounds on the door. The technician stands, opening and peeking out.

“Hi, dad is here!” The nurse from earlier says.

“Oh great!” She exclaims, stepping to the side.

Miles walks in, looking incredible out of breath, with wind whipped cheeks and an extremely apologetic look on his face.

“I’m so sorry. So sorry, babe.” He runs around to the opposite side of the table. He quickly shrugs his jacket off, tossing it onto the back of his chair. The metal scrapes against the tiled floor as he settles in next to her. He eagerly reaches for her hand, but Kailey doesn’t hold his hand back. Her fingers stay limp in his grasp.

“So, as I was telling mom, spine, neck, and heart look good so far.” The technician repeats. Miles squeezes Kailey’s hand as she watches the screen, avoiding his gaze. 

“That is great. We should double check the brain. They’re half me.” Miles jokes. 

The technician laughs. Kailey doesn’t. Miles chews harder on his gum, then brings her hand up to his mouth to kiss. He drops kisses here every few moments as the rest of the scan is completed. The last item is the gender, which Kailey and Miles both close their eyes for. The technician writes the word on a piece of paper, then tucks it into an envelope for safe keeping until it is time. The envelope gets tucked into Kailey’s purse by Miles. 

“Any questions? Everything looks great. The baby is measuring a little large, so we will have to keep an eye on that as you get farther along. But nothing of concern at this point.”

“I don’t have questions.” Kailey responds. 

“I’m good.” Miles confirms.

“Great! I will let you get cleaned up. You are free to go once you’re ready.” The room is quiet until the door shuts behind her.

“Baby, I am so sorry. I completely forgot the appointment was today.” Miles says as Kailey uses the paper towel to wipe off the gel.

“I’m really upset.” She states matter of factly.

“It was not intentional. I thought it was tomorrow.”

“No, it is not tomorrow because have a game. My appointment would have bled over into your pre-game routine, so being the loving wife that I am, I made the appointment purposefully on an off-day for your convenience.”

“I know. I can’t even tell you how sorry I am. I’m sure I worried you too. I dropped the ball. I’ll make it up to you.” Kailey laughs, blinking in disbelief. 

“Good luck.” Miles faces drops deadly serious.

“Babe, I am trying. This is still a whirlwind to me.”

“Are you?” She snorts. “Wow, I feel so bad for how hard my pregnancy is for you. If this is you trying, we have bigger problems than I thought.” A whirlwind to him? Like his body is the one changing every second of every day. Like he is the one who has to grapple so hard with this reality of never being the same again? He has months left to prepare. She didn’t get that choice.

Kailey swings her legs off to the side and jumps down, passing on Miles’ offer to help. She shoves her sweater back down, then walks to put her jacket back on. She tries to get the buttons closed, but it refused because of her belly. She leaves it open then grabs her belt bag, tossing it over her head. She rips open the door to the room, then turns to the right to head back to the lobby. Miles’ sneakered feet scrape the carpet which is her only indication that he is following.

“What were you even doing after practice? What was so important that you couldn’t check your phone?” She suddenly whirls around at him when they enter the parking lot.

“I… stayed on the ice longer working with Ross on a few things.” Nothing would have made it better to Kailey, but imagining her worrying about him while he was messing around on the ice with his teammate infuriates her further.

“Great! Good for you. So glad you and your buddy had fun this afternoon while I worried you were dead in a ditch.” She snaps, then rips the driver’s side door open of her car. She slides in. “I’ll see you later.”

“Are you going home?” Miles asks through the window. 

“I don’t know. I guess you’ll find out when you get there.” Then she throws the car in reverse, leaving Miles standing in the parking lot, watching her leave.

- - -

Nothing made Kailey feel better during her hours out of their apartment. Not the Passion Fruit Lemonade from Starbucks. Or the Shake Shack cheeseburger. Or the new shoes she found at DSW. She was still upset when she came home to Miles cooking dinner for them as the sun was setting behind the mountains.

“Hey.” He calls to her as she walks in. Kailey mumbles a greeting. She tosses her new shoes into their entryway closet, then shrugs off her too small jacket. “I heard you today.” Miles says as he grabs the jacket from her. He puts is on the hanger. He looks annoyingly handsome in his professional kitchen apron with pockets and nice leather straps. “I will be better than this. It’s what you two deserve.” Kailey looks at him, studying his apologetic stature. She heard him too, but she can’t help how angry she feels looking at him right now. 

“I wish you had cared enough about this appointment to show up on time.” 

“Kails, I did care.”

“How do you expect me to believe that? Especially when your actions said everything else. You literally showed up twenty minutes after it started! I was mostly done. Did you go home first and were like huh, wonder why she isn’t here? Instead of checking your phone the moment you could!? What if something happened to me, Miles?” The intense lines of his face get deeper as he frowns harder. He shakes his head slightly, having no answer for her.

“You’re gonna be someone’s dad in 4 months. But more importantly than that, right now you’re someone’s husband. I depend on you to show up when you say you will. Don’t make me learn how to do this without you because I fucking will.”

Kailey walks down the hall to their bedroom. She opens and shuts the door, then bursts into silent sobs. 

[therapycat21]

All Right Now Epilogue

Oh my heart, it is officially over! but I will still be writing blurbs about them! much love, TherapyCat21 >;;< I hope you all enjoyed!!!!!

Travis Kelce x Famous!Reader Description: The reader catches the eye of famous footballer Travis.

Warnings: None

Social Media AU

3 Years Later

Exactly Three years today, since the wedding and everything has been over the moon great since, my documentary came out and it was an absolute hit, everyone loved the authenticity and the heartbreak to it it was amazing to see all of the love. Travis is still playing football for the Chiefs and has been doing so good.

But anyhow, so far everything has been great, there was amazing feedback after the announcement of the wedding but of course the negative is sitting there to but other then that it’s been great. We have celebrated Thanksgiving all together and Christmas is in the next two days and Travis and I have been cleaning and decorating like crazy since we offered to host this year. 

“Hey babe? How much did santa’s sleigh cost?” Travis asks me from where he is fixing the christmas decorations. I look after to see the smirk on his face, knowing where this is going “I don’t know babe, what?” I ask sarcastically, he has been making corny christmas jokes the past few days. He can barely tell the rest of the joke as he is giggling “absolutely nothing, it was on the house” still weezing froom his own joke, I can’t help but giggle because of the reaction it was giving him. 

“You are so corny but I love it” I laugh.

Christmas Day

“Are you sure you placed the plates right on the table? Remember the big colorful Christmas one goes on the bottom and the small one with the reindeer goes on top with the utensils” I explain already out of breath. I get an obnoxious loud groan in response “Baby, how many times do I need to tell you, everything is and has been placed exactly how you want, the plates, the lights, that little Christmas village on the mantel, everything” he reassures me. Travis walks over placing his big warm hands on my shoulders “Breath baby, I promise everything is gonna be amazing you don’t have anything to worry about, I promise” I melt into him subconsciously pulling him into a hug.

I give a deep sigh “thank you, I’m sorry, it’s just everyone is coming over here this year and I don’t wanna mess it up, it’s my first time hosting something as big as this holiday and I want it to be perfect.” I tell him, He rubs my back comfortingly, kissing the top of my head “And it will be” he says before we hear the doorbell, I can feel my stomach drop from anxiety and ring my hands to try and release the tension “Okay, Let’s do this”. He gives me a nod before placing one last kiss on the top of my head before heading to open the door and welcome the giant Kelce/L/n family.

 Dinner

“This ham is absolutely amazing y/n” Donna says from her seat at the table. I look up from plate blushing under the appreciation. “Thank you so much, I was stressed making sure it was absolutely perfect for everyone” I reply, everyone nods “it’s so good, we gotta take some home tonight” my mom says with what looks like a proud smile on her face. We go back to eating before I see Trav grabs his cup and stand up, gaining the attention of the table. 

He clears his throat “I just wanna give a quick toast to everyone here, I wanna tell you all that I love you and it has been an amazing year and I can’t wait for the next, I wanna tell Y/n that I absolutely adore you and everything you do or have done for me and for everyone and I admire you so much baby, and to my momma, we love you so much, and I wouldn’t be here if it wasnt for you, Jason and dad and I’m so grateful to everyone at the table, I love you” he raises his glass after he finishes. The girls aww and the table laughs from the adorable moment. I look over to Travis before reaching over and giving him a quick loving kiss before plopping back into my seat.

We continue dinner, laughing and joking around before I bring out the homemade hot cocoa and Travis turns on the fire, we all move to sit on the couches by the fire to relax more before we get into presents. But of course since there are kids here they are very inpatient little humans.

We see the two younger girls run into the living room right to Kylie and Jason jumping up and down “we wanna open presents!” the repeat before Kylie looks over to Travis and I for agreement, we nod as the girls cheer before running to sit on the floor by the tree. “Okay, okay, let me and your mom finds and separate all the presents okay?” I tell them as we start separating the gifts by person.

The girls open all of their gifts, already opening some of the toys and playing with them on the floor. We had gotten my parents a nice new kitchen set with organizers (mom has been on organization tiktok for a while), Travis had gotten his parents some new handmade coffee mugs, we had also gotten engraved cups for Jason and Ky too.

Donna handmade a new pair of sweaters for me and Travis with our names on them (Weasley style lol!) After everyone settled down after opening their gifts it was only me and Travis last. Travis jumped up, running over to the tree to grab his gift “My turn! Here you go baby.” he tells me handing me the gift box. I smile at him before ripping the wrapping off and opening the unnamed box. It was a pair of keys, I look up confused before he gestured me to stand up and guide everyone to the driveway. He opens the door, and there in all of it’s glory is the dream car I've wanted since I was a teenager. “Oh my god” is all I can say, I’m starstruck by its beauty especially with all of my favorite flowers flowing out of it. I turn back to him jumping into his embrace plastering his face in kisses and repeated I love you’s.

He lets me go, softly putting me back onto the ground “now there’s no way you can top that” he says jokingly, I give him an irridiculous look “You wanna bet?” I ask smirking before nudging everyone back into the living room.

“Okay I’m gonna need everyone to sit down, especially you mama, and mama donna” I get a scared look in return from both mothers. I place Travis directly in the center of the couch before reaching behind the tree and finding my hidden present. I walk back over and softly hand him the box “all I’m gonna say is I love you with everything I have” I say softly before giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek. He nods softly before popping the box lid open, he barely has the box lid off before he gasps “no way” is all he can say before dropping the box next to him on the couch and jumping up to pull me into a hug plastering my cheeks with kisses.

“What, what is it?” I hear my mom and donna say before I look over Travis shoulder to see Kylie had grabbed the box and looked at me with tears, “are you serious?” she asks. I nod with watery eyes and smile. She looks over at the rest of the family before holding up the newborn-sized Chiefs onesie.

All I can hear is everyone gasping and crying in joy before my attention is brought back to Travis “I can’t believe this.” He says with tears falling down his cheeks “Are you okay, are you happy?” I ask smiling at him. He nods excitedly a smile breaking out on his face “Are you kidding, baby I don’t think I’ve ever been happier, oh my god”  I laugh at him before breaking our embrace and our family starts to congratulate us, my mom, donna, and Kylie crying, I can even see a few tears forming in Jason's eyes before Jason says “now you know what this baby’s first word is gonna be right?” he smirks, we look at him before he says 

“All right now”

It is officially over! but there will be blurbs and more if requested but other than that. Thank you to everyone who has liked, reblogged, or commented on this series showing love, I absolutely adore you all and appreciate you all. Thank you!!!

Much Love,

TherapyCat21

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Like my writing? Buy me a coffee. I would be so grateful!

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[zeldaelmo]

Countdown fic to The Legend of Zelda — Echoes of Wisdom!

Summary: Bodyguard by day, artist by night—apart from Link's manageable crush on Hyrule's Princess, his life is pretty boring. That is, until one of his artworks attracts the attention of a blogger who anonymously publishes erotica about the Heroes and Princesses of old. Before he knows it, he's in the midst of a flirty online friendship with "Tetra" who happens to know a little too much about castle life.

Rated explicit! Updates three times a week until the release date of EoW!

Inspiration, Illusions and other Inconveniences

Chapter one - Three Steps Behind

Three steps behind. Not further away from her and Hylia forbid, never closer to her.

Link's gaze flickered between the bobbing tips of Princess Zelda's chin-length hair and the people on the sidewalk. Families were usually no threat, often too busy within themselves. His eyes moved to the little pearls that dangled from her earlobes and flew back ahead, to the teens on the other side of the road. Too absorbed in gossip to notice the princess of Hyrule and her bodyguard walking right past them. Okay, good.

He took a breath, eyes now on the giant screen of a department store; they were still going to make it in time. He allowed himself a moment to linger on the way her shoulders rolled when she glided over the pavement, but tore his eyes away again just as quickly. Always three steps behind, that was his place.

A tiny shriek rang out from behind a postcard rack, and something sent the whole thing spinning. Not good. School kids — the secret peril of his job. And yup, there was one of those menaces, waving shyly with a picture of her, his missing front tooth on full display. She stopped, her brilliant smile tinting the clatter of the souvenir shop in golden light. Even the mugs with her face printed on them paled against the original and they were best sellers among the grannies of Hyrule.

Her smile was so bright that Link nearly bumped into her.

Great. Excellent. Perfect. He couldn't stare a kid down!

I have to give my friend and beta reader @mistresslrigtar a special shout out. I started this fic in... 2022, then put it on hold for another project. Two attempts to get back to writing it failed.

I asked Missy if she could maybe help me sort the problems out and since she luckily also likes modern AUs, she agreed. And so we tackled the messy plot and I aimed to finish it this year. To keep myself from backing out, I also signed up for the @wipbigbang and what can I say, here I am, posting it. I still have few chapters to wrap up, but I'm positive that'll work out.

Missy did an amazing job as a beta, both in picking me up and telling me what worked and more importantly what didn't work. I had to rewrite three chapters and counting, but that's exactly what a good beta makes you do if it's necessary.

So, thank you, Missy, you're the best. 🙏🏼

[reds-skull]

Revenant Side Stories

Story III: Gaz

[Konchar] [Graves] [AO3]

I worked on both this and that Ghost painting I posted earlier in the time I was away from this blog, and I apparently had enough motivation to finish both today haha

If you remember the conversation Gaz and Soap had on the helo in chapter 14 of Not Alive, Nor Dead (the one where they were talking about the worst time they've used their powers), then the events in this story might be familiar...

I enjoyed writing this so much, I absolutely love Gaz (and more specifically rev AU's version of him <3)

Alright enough yapping time for pain

Kyle should be used to the feeling of free-falling. To the air rushing past his ears, to the sting in his eyes as the ground approaches him rapidly. The pull that catches him not a moment too soon, invisible ribbons wrapping him in their safe embrace.

It was perhaps a little naive of him to think gravity will never betray him again.

The whistling wind is what wakes him first, that familiar tune Gaz made his own in the past year. Familiar, but out of place - wasn’t he just running after the HVT…?

Kyle opens his eyes.

The sky warps around him, skyscrapers higher than the heavens towering over him like giants, silhouettes in the night. His body twists uncontrollably, and his view shifts to the ground, people nothing but ants, growing larger and larger-

The sinking feeling in his gut screams one thing, and one thing only.

You’re going to die again.

Several hours earlier

“Sergeant Garrick!” someone calls from behind him. Gaz turns, expecting to have to search for the source in the pre-mission rush of soldiers. He instead instantly zeroed in on a frankly giant man. To his credit, he wasn’t expecting a soldier clad in all black tactical gear, and a stark white skull mask.

Well, only one guy in the SAS that fits this description, “Lieutenant Ghost, sir.” Gaz’s head tilts up to look at the eyes behind the mask.

He’s heard a lot about the legendary revenant, and while most are probably the works of the rumor mill working overtime, just the presence of Ghost emanates a sort of unrivalled power that raises the hairs at Kyle’s nape.

It’s unlikely any of them will see the Lieutenant in action today; he’s here to fill in for Captain Price in overwatch, but he can’t help but have a sort of morbid curiosity, a craving to know if the revenant lives up to the myth.

Ghost motions with his head for him to follow, and begins walking towards the tents that have been set up as their temporary base of operations, “Captain told me you can fly.” he begins.

Gaz smiles nervously, “uh, not exactly. I got gravity manipulation.” they enter the tent, the flurry of activity as disorienting as it is outside, with squad leaders confirming last-minute details about the mission. “Can use it on others as well, but I have to be in direct skin contact.”

“Won’t need it in this op either way,” Ghost rumbles, a somewhat bitter note in his words. A few men do a double take at the two of them, and Gaz suppresses an eye roll.

Being a revenant turned out… different than he thought it would be. Sure, he knew they had superpowers and the ability to converse with extradimensional beings, but he wasn’t ready for the staring.

He knows he’s not human anymore, that he lost a fundamental part of himself the moment he left that helo crash alive, but he doesn’t need to be reminded at any turn.

Perhaps Ghost is onto something with the mask. At least he can roll his eyes all he wants.

Ghost addresses the soldiers in the tent, everyone snapping into attention, “Sergeant Garrick will lead the infil team. Target is at the suite of the Amandi Hotel, possibly guarded and armed.” the Lieutenant scrutinizes them, “I’ll be on overwatch on the comms tower north of the hotel. Helo circles the sky in case we need to extract from the roof.”

He crosses his arms, the perfect image of authority, “any questions?”

“No, sir!” the soldiers in the tent echo.

“Good. Garrick’s team is up in 5.” Ghost’s attention turns to him, “you’ll treat the Sergeant like any other soldier - his powers are irrelevant here.”

Gaz’s eyes widen as the rest of his squad gives Ghost the affirmative. The Lieutenant leaves the tent, ordering the others, and he shakes away from his stupor. A surprisingly warm feeling spreads through his chest.

No time to wonder about Ghost’s intentions, they have a man to catch.

It takes only ten minutes for the mission to go completely off rails.

Ghost wasn’t lying when he said his powers are irrelevant here. With the narrow hallways of the hotel, and lack of loose, heavy objects around ready to be thrown, Gaz is as good as any of his human squad mates.

He grits his teeth, popping out of cover to shoot yet another henchman down. The HVT must be bloody loaded to afford this much manpower.

“Be advised Bravo 6-1, enemy reinforcements approaching your position. I don’t have a clear shot on them.” Ghost’s low voice sounds from his comms.

Gaz returns to cover when a bullet grazes his cheek, and he answers between a hiss of pain, “copy, attempting to advance to the suite now.”

“Stevenson, Ellis, take the left hallway, the rest with me!” Kyle orders the corporals. He’s betting on the fact the henchmen will be too preoccupied with their assault to notice the two soldiers flanking them.

Gaz and his team goes on the offensive, unnerved by the bullets ricocheting around them. A few fast heartbeats later, the hostiles go down with gasps of surprise. He allows himself a moment of celebration, before pushing onwards.

This is another thing he had to learn in his new second life. Turns out, the brass promotes revenants faster than other soldiers, and soon after his Reaping he was promoted to Sergeant. He will probably never forget the nasty looks he got from his old mates after that, people he thought were his friends. Sometimes Kyle wanted to scream that he didn’t ask for this, he didn’t ask to be the only one left alive.

Usually following that thought is a reminder that he very much did. He asked to live. 

Gaz knew what he was wishing for.

Stevenson and Ellis join them, and he makes sure to order most of the squad to watch their six, Ghost’s warning still fresh in his mind.

“Lieutenant, got sights on the HVT?” Gaz radios in.

The comms crackle before he gets an answer, “negative, he went to the back two minutes ago, likely holing up in the bathroom.” he can hear the faint sound of wind through his mic, “stay sharp, this might be a trap.”

“Understood, sir.” 

Gaz holds a fist up to signal the squad to stop, and attempts to listen for any movements inside the suite. Price’s mind reading abilities would’ve been nice to have around right about now…

He lets out a shaky breath. Going in blind never gets less nerve wracking, “Smith, Farage, keep watch on the hallways, Ellis, Stevenson and Wright, prepare for breach in three…”

The soldiers move to their positions, and the moment his count reaches zero, Gaz kicks the door down and begins clearing the room. Every dark corner becomes a potential hiding spot for hostiles, every flickering shadow catches his attention.

The main area of the suite is an open floor plan room, floor-to-ceiling windows making up the whole front part. The city lights twinkle through the clear glass, unaware of the danger that dwells above them.

“Main room clear, moving to the bathroom.” Gaz relays to Ghost and the rest. He lowers his rifle and reaches for the handle. The door creaks ominously when he shoves it open, revealing a dark and completely empty space. He clears it in a few seconds, all the while his confusion grows.

“Ghost” he clicks his comms on, “the HVT isn’t here.”

The Lieutenant is silent for a brief moment, “He didn’t leave the suite, Garrick. Keep searching the other rooms.” Gaz opens his mouth to give the affirmative, when he hears Wright and Stevenson give the clear for the two bedrooms. A twisting feeling in his gut grows.

“Sir, I think we’re missing something-”

Loud bangs echo from the main bedroom, Gaz instantly exiting the bathroom to watch Stevenson go down, “fuck!”

Hostiles stream out of the room in an endless swarm, the rest of his squad taking cover around the suite. “Garrick! What the fuck is going on there?!”

“Stevenson missed a bloody secret room, sir!” Gaz grunts, shooting two men down. From the corner of his eye, he sees Wright push forward, so he joins him.

A shattering sound alerts him to Ghost’s shots, “do you have eyes on the target?!” the Lieutenant’s voice echoes through comms. Another shot rings out, and a body drops to his right.

“Negative!” he answers. Smith and Farage are fighting further out, enemies forcing them back to the hallway, Stevenson motionless on the ground. Wright snarls beside him, his left arm bleeding from a graze. Ellis…

“Sergeant! Behind you!” Ghost shouts. Gaz whips around, to watch the HVT drag himself to the broken windows.

Himself, and the unconscious body of Ellis. Gaz charges forward before the HVT locks eyes with him, a manic sort of fury burning within them.

The bastard smiles at him, blood staining his bright white teeth. He heaves Ellis, dragging him right to the edge.

“You take one more step, and I drop your friend.” the target drawls. 

Kyle stops, raising his arms in surrender, mind rapidly trying to pinpoint the location of each hostile and soldier left in the room. If he could be sure his squad will be able to apprehend the HVT by themselves, he could be free to follow Ellis, and catch him before they both hit the ground.

“Alright.” Gaz swallows thickly, keeping his voice as calm as he can, “we’ll give you what you want, just let him go.”

The target’s smile widens, “tell your soldiers to drop their weapons” he shakes Ellis, Gaz’s heart jumping to his throat. He nods, slowly lowering a hand to his radio.

“All stations, hold fire, we’ve got a hostage.”

The commotion behind him stops abruptly, his soldiers murmuring in confusion but listening to him all the same. Gaz scans the HVT for weapons - a pistol at his right hip, a knife strapped to the other. As long as he doesn’t use those on Ellis, he still has a chance to save him.

“You’re playing a dangerous game here.” Ghost warns, “I don’t have a clear shot, don’t doom the entire squad to save one man.”

His jaw tightens in response. He’s not going to allow any more of them to die today.

“Good” the target’s voice drips with satisfaction, “at least one of you soldier boys has more than half a brain. Now… I have other matters to attend to, so if you will leave the premises peacefully, that would be helpful.”

“Not without him.” Gaz motions to Ellis.

The HVT tsks, “do I look stupid? I know you’ll shoot my men down the moment I let him go.” his head tilts mockingly, “no, he’s coming with me.”

“Garrick…” Ghost growls. “Ellis’ chances are low. Get the HVT secure and get out.” This is taking too long.

“I prefer to have… insurance.” the target continues.

Gaz’s lips pull back in disgust, “for a cornered man, you’re asking for a lot, mate.”

“Am I cornered, though?”

The telltale click of a trigger shoots adrenaline down Kyle’s limbs, and he moves out of the bullet’s way a second before it reaches him. He grunts as he grasps at the attacker’s rifle over his shoulder, twisting it around his torso to disarm the man.

Lieutenant Ghost’s voice booms through comms, “Bravo, get your guns up! More hostiles are entering your floor!!!”

Gaz barely avoids a fist coming from his left, ducking and dodging a knee to his guts. Gunshots echo behind him, grunts and growls and screams of pain almost deafening.

Two hostiles manage to get a hold of him, and over their massive shoulders Kyle watches in horror as the target pulls Ellis up over the window’s edge, and lets go.

“Corporal Ellis is falling, I repeat, the Corporal is falling!” Ghost yells. Gaz’s heart hammers away at his chest, his breaths becoming shorter and heavier.

Through the cacophony of combat, anger and agony, one voice stands out from the rest.

The HVT’s mirthful laugh, high and grating as he watches Ellis fall down, down, down-

Gaz screams, grabbing the arms around him, and reverting gravity on all three of them. He lowers his head, avoiding the ceiling. His attackers, however, are taken by surprise, and hit their head against the concrete with a sickening thunk.

The laughter ceases, but he pays it no mind. If Gaz jumps off now, he could strengthen the effect of gravity on himself, and fall faster, reach Ellis before the ground does-

A sniper shot splices the air beside him, the bullet hitting the floor, Ghost’s voice loud when he calls out, “Gaz-!”, Kyle turning around to find the stock of a rifle approaching his face, his foot slips, and-

His vision goes dark.

He’s going to die. The wind beats at his body, howling and shrieking and stealing the air from his lungs. He’s going to die. The city lights smear and create blinding trails at his periphery.

He’s going to die.

Kyle locks onto a dark shape, several feet below him, and the fog of panic clears for long enough for him to remember why he’s falling.

Ellis. He fell before him. He’s going to die.

But Gaz won’t. His powers rush forth, otherworldly ribbons wrapping around his fingertips at his command. Instead of hanging from the sky, he orders them down.

They’re about 100 feet from the harsh asphalt roads when he starts descending at an inhuman speed, eyes watering and muscles trembling from the lack of oxygen, but it doesn’t matter, not until he touches Ellis, not until he pulls him back from certain death.

50 feet. 40. 30. 20. 10-

Kyle barely manages to brush a finger on Ellis’ tacvest before he pulls back, his face mere inches from the ground. His eyes are closed, his mouth gaping as he takes in air for the first time in minutes.

He heard the crunch. He knows his ribbons didn’t wrap around Ellis. Yet, there’s a little naive voice in his mind, holding onto hope that the Corporal has been saved.

The screams of the ground team tell him otherwise.

Kyle releases his powers, his body dropping. Voices echo around him, words unintelligible through the rushing blood in his ears.

Ellis is dead. He doesn’t want to open his eyes. You failed again, he screams at himself in the recesses of his mind.

Kyle chokes on a sob, only then registering the tears flowing down his cheeks. He curls further into himself. Selfishly, he doesn’t want the others to see his pathetic crying. Not only did he fail, he’s also weak.

Someone touches his shoulder, and he freezes. His eyes are glued to the dark grey of the road below him, its rough texture digging into his trembling palms. The voices stray closer, words still incomprehensible but concern clear, and yet he refuses to lift his head.

He doesn’t want to see Ellis. He knows what gravity does to a person, how it tugs at their limbs until they break, how bones stab at soft flesh, how muscles are ripped apart like a rag doll’s stitches. He knows, saw five different bodies, all twisted beyond recognition, by the very power he controls. The memory makes bile rise to his mouth, acrid taste spreading on his tongue. The sight of mangled soldiers, the smell of burning fuel, the whistle of an RPG.

If only he was strong enough to truly control it.

The hands tug at him more forcibly now, attempting to roll him over, but Kyle resists. His mouth tries to form words, but only whines and muted sobs stream from his clenched teeth.

‘Leave me alone’, he wants to whisper. ‘I already know I failed’.

A deeper voice rumbles above him, and the hands stop and leave. Kyle hears the rustling of fabric before the voice begins calling his name.

“-arrick. Sergeant. We need to know if you’re broken.”

He shakes his head, shoulders shuddering along his sobs.

“You’re not injured? Good.” the voice answers calmly, as if they’re not sitting beside a dead body, blood pooling, bones sticking out of place-

“Stay with me, soldier. Focus on me.” the voice orders, and Kyle knows, somewhere in his fractured mind, that he needs to listen.

He risks lifting his gaze a little towards the voice, a knee clad in dark pants coming into view, “you’re safe, Gaz. Take all the time you need to collect yourself. The others won’t bother you now.”

He nods minutely, wanting to show his gratitude to the voice, but refusing to lift his head any higher.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, and Kyle tries to keep his focus on the person in front of him, but his brain continues to pull at his thoughts, get them to drift to Ellis, his cooling body dead not 3 feet from them-

“You know why blind people don’t like going skydiving?”

Kyle blinks down at his hands. What…?

“‘Cause it scares the shit outta their dogs.”

…That’s the dumbest joke he’s ever heard. What’s dumber, that it’s actually making him huff in amusement.

“That deserves at least a little laugh.” the voice sulks, the deadpan quality of it making their words funnier to Kyle.

He clears his throat before saying, “all that deserves is a groan of disappointment, Lieutenant.”

His head lifts to look at Ghost’s dark eyes behind his skull mask, “you wound my poor feeble heart, Garrick.”

A wobbly smile spreads on his lips, before he slowly looks away from the Lieutenant at the scene around them.

They must’ve already moved the body, leaving dark red blood seeping into the cracks in the road as the only sign anything went wrong. Some combat medics have stayed behind, but from the look on their face Kyle can tell they’re too afraid of Ghost to get any closer.

He casts a questioning look at the Lieutenant, who sighs, “they shouldn’t toss you around while you’re in shock.”

Kyle frowns, “they didn’t ‘toss me around’, but… thanks.”

Ghost simply hums.

It takes him a few more seconds to gather the courage to ask, “the mission… did it fail?”

Did I make us fail?

Ghost regards him with narrowed eyes, “HVT has been secured and is in transport awaiting questioning.”

He lets out a small sigh of relief, nodding.

The Lieutenant stares at him, “you did everything you could, Gaz.” he opens his mouth to disagree, but Ghost lifts a hand, “no. Ellis was dead the moment he was captured. If I was in your position, I wouldn’t have risked the mission, the team, myself to try and save him against the odds.”

Kyle sputters, “but- I didn’t save him.”

“But you tried.”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s dead!”

Ghost’s tone lowers dangerously, “it may not matter to Ellis, but to the rest of your squad? His teammates? They know you tried, and they will remember in the future that Sergeant Garrick will endanger his own life for his subordinates.”

Kyle’s eyes widen, Ghost’s voice gaining a somber tone, “you haven’t had a lot of experience in leading.” he half-states, half-asks, so Kyle shakes his head.

“The trust your men have in you is fragile, and invaluable. Today, you’ve gained something many others can’t. You have respect, the kind that is hard-earned in battle.” His eyes look away, lost in memories Kyle will probably never be privy to, “that’s why it matters.”

He thinks back to the way everyone approaches Ghost, fear and awe in their eyes, “are you talking from experience?”

Ghost’s eyes refocus on him, “my soldiers respect me because I’m powerful. They respect me out of terror, not trust.”

“Respect is respect, no?”

“None of them would risk their lives to save mine, if it came to it.” Ghost rises to his feet, “respect born of fear is weak compared to respect born from admiration.”

A gloved hand, adorned with skeletal markings, is offered to him. Kyle takes it, allowing Ghost to pull him up to his own shaky legs.

Gaz takes a good look at the grotesque mask, at the appearance that signals danger and unmatched strength. 

And at the hand in his, grip powerful enough that he doesn’t have any doubt it will catch him if he falls.

“I trust you, Lieutenant.”

Ghost freezes, before he begins walking towards the parked vehicles, “your mistake, Sergeant.”

Gaz follows, believing wholeheartedly in his words.

“I’m planning on building a task force.” Price begins the moment Gaz settles into the office chair in front of him, “a revenant-only task force.”

“And you’re inviting me?” he exclaims in disbelief.

“Don’t sound so surprised, Kyle, we both know your powers are extremely rare.”

Still, to be chosen by the Captain Price out of everyone…

“You’re giving me too much credit, son.” Price’s moustache twitches up with a hidden smirk, “I’ll take it as a yes?”

Gaz nods resolutely, “yes, sir!”

“That’s what I want to hear. Any questions?”

The words “no, sir” are ready on his tongue, but he retracts them to instead ask, “are there any other members yet?”

Price scans him for a moment, before he pulls out a folder, “you remember Ghost, I presume?”

He can see how Price clocks in the excitement in his mind, “of course.”

A warm smile crinkles Price’s blue eyes. He rises, offering Gaz a hand to shake. Gaz takes it.

“Welcome to Taskforce 141, Kyle.”

[bellatrixnightshade]

Earthlings and Aliens

@liketwoswansinbalance

here it is!

Well, this was actually an experimental bit of writing I published so it isn't technically finished, and this AU is more "free range" for now. It has endless possibilities and plots I would like to use, so I don't think I will write a strict storyline to it.

Midas couldn't believe his eyes when he found the Rhian from the stories standing right in front of him.

An actual extraterrestrial being.

Midas had always heard that aliens were grotesque and strange creatures that looked nothing like human beings, yet here Rhian was, no older than he was.

Granted, Rhian still had certain vibes that could not be from this planet. Unearthly beauty. His blue eyes had some sparkle in the irises and the puplis, like miniature stars in the evening sky. His wild blonde hair and his skin also had touches of sparkle and shine. And were those antennae? Midas was not hypnotized or impressed, to Rhian’s misfortune. In fact, he was filled with distrust. He didn't trust this stranger, much less one who was ogling at him.

Rhian, on the other hand, was enchanted by Midas at first sight. The boy didn't look like the other Earthlings– so common and uninteresting. He could have been the child of either sun or moon: his sweet looking gray eyes and his terracotta skin and copper curls made him look otherworldly.

"I don't want to go to your school," he snapped. "It isn't worth leaving Bongo or my home."

Rhian smiled, and this made Midas bristle. What was so funny? Was he really so inconsiderate? Being kidnapped by an alien was an Earthling's worst fear.

"Don't worry," he said, aiming a glowing finger at Midas to stun him, "you will be treated well on the way there. Wouldn't that be nice, to ride in an actual spaceship?"

"I don't know. I'm warning you, don't let my father or a safety official see you. Once they see an alien, it's over. The governments of Planet Earth are terrified of aliens. They think people like you will bomb us and annihilate us. They believe you will bring strange drugs and your people here." 

Rhian was about to laugh. 

These Earthlings were the most stupid people he had ever encountered. A toddler from his planet could easily destroy this neighborhood. And Rafal, RAFAL, the logical, cold, calculating, intelligent twin actually believed in these idiots, in their so-called potential. Maybe Rhian needed to take Rafal to the doctor. Maybe he was becoming sick in the head.

A snake slithered across the grass and Midas bent down to stroke its head. He glowered at Rhian. "I'm telling you, my dad's coming home any minute and when he sees you, he will-" He was interrupted by screams and his neighbors calling each other.

Midas left his backyard to his front door to get to the source of the screaming, stamping,  and unusual noise, traveling two blocks away. Arabella's house? Midas thought. Did she purchase drugs or something?"

Rhian was about to trail after him, but he turned to a giant screen. On display for the public view, were three disabled androids on the street. 

Rafal, he thought with despair. Rafal would fight like this. Rafal was in trouble. Rhian vaguely remembered Rafal heading in that direction for his special Earthling…

Rhian desperately wanted to go to the spaceship and leave with Midas. Let his brother fend for himself. Yet, Rhian didn't have Rafal's key and it wouldn't let him activate it without the key. Plus, he didn't know how Rafal got here and what directions he used. He didn't pay any attention. As he approached the house where his brother must undoubtedly be trapped in, he heard obnoxious yelling inside. Rhian remembered to use his disguise, and his antennae curled in his hair. This was more stressful than he thought. He could even feel them become more and more purple. No wonder his brother always hid them, even at home. 

"We need to scan your chip," an android said. "For your resistance, we have called extra forces."

A woman was sobbing. "My daughter told me everything. She told me this foreign freak wanted to take her away. To God knows where!" 

Rafal refused to go near the android. He was doomed if they scanned his chip, anyway. The android came to him, scanning it without his consent.

"Identity not recognized," it said. "You are under arrest for suspected terrorism, attempted abduction, and illegal entrance into our planet. Please follow us."

"I am not following you," Rafal snapped. "If you make me, I will make sure you share the same fate as those other stupid robots."

The woman looked up, glaring at him. "They already called humans against you. They will track you down and kill you, just like your people deserve. How dare you enter our world! We have had enough wars. We don’t need anymore, much less from invaders like your kind."

Rhian was silently watching. Midas was right. He hoped his dad wouldn't watch.

"Is she your friend?" Rhian asked, pointing to a redheaded girl, enamored with his brother. To his disgust, Midas' attention was also turned towards his brother.

"We are classmates and neighbors," Midas said slowly. "You brought more aliens, didn't you? More creatures to take our people to your home."

"Oh, he's just my brother," Rhian said quickly. "He was the one who brought me here. This wasn't my idea in the first-" The helicopters landed, and Rafal ran outside as far as he could, Arabella following after him. Someone in the crowd held a jar with a tiny Marialena inside. "They are infiltrating our home!" He screamed. Rafal eyed Rhian's disguise  in the crowd. Arabella headed in that direction. Suddenly, gunshots rang out and the crowd stepped back.

Rafal was hit. The police dragged him inside their plane. He was certainly doomed. He also found Rhian with another handsome boy. Again? He instructed Arabella to go to the ship as soon as possible and he gave her the key. She made a huge mistake in telling her mother, but she didn't know any better. Now she did. In case Rafal died here, at least Rhian had the key. At least he could fly home to safety.Arabella's mother had stabbed him in the stomach with a kitchen knife, then screamed "911" at her virtual assistant. Rafal wished he had obliterated that stupid computer program. He wished he had bombed this whole neighborhood.

[writing-biting]

after the initial anxiety, maybe they’ll get more into her element.

Here’s more propaganda for the @ultimatebabygirlsupremebattle  ! Yes, I know I already posted some today, but I finished that last week, and I drew this followup today.

(generally I put the image ID in the alt, but I’m putting it here because i’m on the computer and i can’t figure out how to do it properly on here)

[Image ID: Three comic pages, depicting feather!leo’s arrival to the transfemme leo competition, read from right to left.

Page 1:

Panel 1: Mikey, with xer arm swung around Leo’s shoulders, making them stoop. He has one arm splayed out, indicating a banner above them that says ‘ULTIMATE BABYGIRL SUPREME’ in capslock.

Leo is squinting and looks annoyed. Mikey is grinning, with his eyes closed.

Mikey has a speech bubble that reads: “It’s the TRANSFEMME LEO COMPETITION, of course!”

Panel 2: Mikey spinning a startled Leo in a chair, with an amused expression. Xe has two dialogue bubbles. The first one reads: ‘Now!’ and the second one reads: ‘We’re gonna get you dolled up!’

Panel 3: A close up of Leo’s eye, Mikey’s hand holding her in in place. Mikey’s other hand is applying pink eyeshadow to Leo’s stripe.

Leo has a speech bubble, which reads: ‘I don’t know about this Mikey-’

Page 2:

Panel 1: Mikey is clasping a cape of the trans flag around Leo’s shoulders. He’s leaning down and grinning at an annoyed and frustrated Leo.

Mikey has three dialogue bubbles. The first reads: ‘Relax!’, the second reads: ‘You’re gonna do great,’ and the third reads ‘just remember to smile, and absolutely do NOT be yourself!’

Panel 2: Leo is now standing. He’s lifting up her cape with one arm like a cartoon vampire, and peering down at it. They have two speech bubbles.

The first speech bubble reads: ‘I don’t know, Mikey.’ and the second reads: ‘This feels weird’

Panel 3: Mikey pushing a reluctant Leo forward, smiling. Mikey has three speech bubbles, and Leo has one.

The dialogue goes as such:

Mikey: ‘You’ll be wondtiforous!’

Mikey: ‘Just drop this whole emo she-bang,’

Mikey: ‘and do what you do best!’

Leo: What I do best-?’

Panel 4: Mikey kicking Leo in the shell, sending her flying.

Mikey has one speech bubble that reads: ‘Mask insecurity with overconfidence!’

And Leo has a jagged edged responding speech bubble that reads: ‘WHAT’

Page 3:

Panel 1: Leo sitting on his hands and knees, panting. The word ‘huff’ is written around her a couple of times, and there are short lines around her to indicate shaking.

Panel 2: A giant banner that reads ‘Ultimate Babygirl Showdown’ over a crowd of nine visible participants.

On the left, newtmntfan’s Leah is talking to teenagemutanttransgenderturtles’ Aoi. Behind them, bugbrainboy’s Leo is talking to chaoswithcausation’s Leo.

On the right, dykeraphael’s Leona is talking to graphitehybrid’s Leo. Behind them, boy-icky’s Leo is talking to yumeyumeappleo’s Leo.

In the very back, less-depresso-more-espresso’s egg is screaming ‘WTF’

Closest to the camera, we can see a sweatdrop forming on the back of feather!leo’s head. There’s dialogue beside her, reading: ‘I’m going to kill Mikey.’

The word kill is underlined twice.

End Image ID]

Direct followup to this: https://www.tumblr.com/writing-biting/719815731338936320/mikey-put-her-in-the-competition-without-telling?source=share

And, a taglist for all the turtles that appear here!

@newtmntfan

@teenagemutanttransgenderturtles

@dykeraphael

@graphitehybrid

@chaoswithcausation

@bugbrainboy

@boy-icky

@yumeyumeappleo

@less-depresso-more-espresso

feather!leo is from the @feathers-and-petals separated AU

Leo’s pronouns: she/they/he

Mikey’s pronouns: he/him/xe/xer/xem

[lastweeksshirttonight]

Lee is re-watching Sherlock for some fucking reason - Season One

I'm well aware that the crossover between "currently popular and loved British comedian in the US updates, thirst, and accoutrements" and "BBC show that went so off the rails that people now like to pretend Andrew Scott's breakout role was the Hot Priest in Fleabag" is limited, but weirdly, returning to Sherlock was one of the few things that was keeping my brain somewhat grounded and whirring during Work Hell.

We're in uncharted territory here. You're gonna learn a bit about the things I do when I'm not tracking John Oliver obsessively. I am nervous about this but hey, I'm guessing most of you knew I don't solely live and breathe John Oliver. (I know. I have multitudes. This is a shocking revelation. Please take time to process it.)

Firstly, a content note - there's going to be discussion about queerbaiting and queercoding villains, and the beginning of this goes into some of James Somerton's absolutely disgusting claims about the AIDS crisis. This post will only be focused on Season One, as that's all I've finished at this point.

Let's go.

(above image sourced from Writing Tips and Memes)

My sudden re-emergent hyperfixation started because of the hbomberguy takedown of James Somerton, weirdly. I don't follow many YouTubers - I like Bright Sun Films because he goes urban exploring, something I've always wanted to do but have never managed to make happen, and also Todd in the Shadows, whose Trainwreckords series is very well-done and expertly researched. Seeing that name, you might know where this is going. Todd dropped a video about James Somerton, who I had never fucking heard of and now wish I'd known about before, so I could scream bloody murder about what an absolute fuckwad he is.

(I don't want to get too in the weeds here, but the things James asserted about WWII, Nazis, and the AIDS crisis are so vehemently offensive that I'm still struggling with them. Claiming that only boring gays survived the AIDS crisis in particular is so vile that I have gotten anger flashes thinking about it almost daily since hearing it.)

Todd recommended watching all four hours of the hbomberguy plagiarism video, and I ran that in the background while working about two weeks ago. Eventually I had to stop doing that because the plagiarism revelations were so distracting and shocking. Todd's video was even more of a goddamn mindfuck, and even the smaller, less offensive things have taken up far too much space in my brain. Californians, does anyone at all deify Bob Iger??? Like... what the goddamn fuck??? Bob Iger????

After watching one hbomberguy video, the algorithm did its thing, and gave me a video called "Sherlock is Garbage and Here's Why". Posting it here for posterity:

Because my brain works in mysterious ways (-cough-ADHD-cough-), watching this... made me want to rewatch Sherlock.

I initially saw Sherlock for the first time thanks to someone I met in my last year of college, 2012. At the time, Michael (a nickname) was my neighbor in the dorms; over the past ten years, she's become one of my closest friends and a true rock in my life. One of the first things we bonded over that I introduced her to was the San Francisco Giants and the ghost I will always be chasing, Tim Lincecum; one of the first things we bonded over that she introduced me to was BBC Sherlock. The show was in the early months of its extended hiatus after Season Two, at the height of its fandom, and we were both completely obsessed. I read all the Doyle stories, took in a truly wild amount of fanfiction, wrote a not-very-popular AU fic, became part of a strange inter-dorm ARG based on Sherlock orchestrated by Michael... it consumed a huge part of our lives.

When Season 3 dropped, I almost stopped watching after "The Empty Hearse". I don't want to get into why it offended me so much before we get to a Season 3 post, but just know my enthusiasm severely dampened there. The rest of Season 3 I think of with blase emotions, especially the ending, which I found just dumb, save one part of it. I recall going to see The Abominable Bride in theatres with my mom (and maybe Michael?), and I think I liked it fine - aside, again, from the ending. But I had no interest in a Season Four, and when it dropped, Michael's long rambling phone calls describing the absolute shitstorm of a plot cemented that I was never going to watch it again.

Until now.

I definitely don't think the hbomberguy video is perfect. His insistence that Doyle canon never had Holmes pull answers to cases out of his ass is... something, lol, as is his opinion that changing the solution to certain puzzles in A Study in Pink disrespects the original canon. (Bro, these stories have been retold a bajillion times, they need to mix it up to keep it interesting.) But he put a finger on something that I'd wrestled with regarding Sherlock for a long time - that the show's writing often teased something big and new and conclusive in the horizon, but almost never delivered. That wasn't an issue in early days when there was less invested in an increasingly convoluted mythic story, or when they weren't fully blowing off the resolutions to cliffhangers, but the flaw in writing a story where you promise something huge on the horizon and never deliver should be obvious.

The first season doesn't trade much in that idea, and going back to it was something I found exceptionally enjoyable!

Before I watched:

I remembered bits and pieces of "A Study in Pink" and the whole plot in summary.

I truly didn't remember anything about "The Blind Banker" except that I found it fairly 'yellow peril'-y when I saw it in 2012.

I mixed up huge chunks of Season Two's "A Scandal in Belgravia" with "The Great Game" in my head and somehow forgot the main plot thrust was Moriarty kidnapping people and strapping bombs to them.

I genuinely forgot Sebastian Moran was a character basically hallucinated into existence by the fandom and didn't appear in the show at all until a brief appearance in Season Three.

In a way, it was like I was watching the show for the first time all over again. My partner also watched the first season with me, and it was interesting to get his thoughts on the show as we watched.

To start, his favorite character is Mycroft. Watching Season One, I had to agree that Mycroft has a depth of character that I'd forgotten about. Mark Gatiss plays him perfectly, aloof and smarter than you but unsure of how to deal with his natural feelings of concern and fear for his oft-spiraling, danger-seeking younger brother - and how those feelings magnify with the influence of extreme danger-seeker (at least in this season) John Watson. The show wants you to believe so badly that he's Moriarty in "A Study in Pink", which I don't think works even if you know he isn't Moriarty - there's a warmth to Gatiss' Mycroft that, even while he's doing incredibly ominous things like shutting off all cameras in a busy intersection, still comes through.

My favorite character is Moriarty. I haven't mentioned this very much here, because why would I, but my favorite character type in media is "theatrical abject shithead". It's why I cosplay Bakugo from My Hero Academia and loved everything about Akechi in Persona 5. Hell when I was a kid, I told teachers that when I grew up, I wanted to join Team Rocket. I love the theatrical shitheads. And boy, is Moriarty some sort of theatrical shithead. I don't DISAGREE with hbomberguy pointing out that, as written, Moriarty is a complete mess of a character, a queer-coded literal terrorist with no motivations besides "I did that because I'M CRAAAAZY!"... but he's my queer-coded literal terrorist, ok? I could write a whole paper on all the harmful stereotypes inhabiting this version of Moriarty... but I can't deny that the flamboyance and violence pulsing just beneath the surface of Andrew Scott's performance was the beating heart of that show for me. Sure, Sherlock and John, at least early on, were a compelling duo, but the show was at its best with Moriarty pulling strings for inexplicable reasons in the background. I love him.

(An aside: watching Sherlock made me remember how hilarious it was to see basically every major actor from the show in one of my favorite movies of all time, 1917, to the point that I actually kinda laughed in the theatre thinking about it.)

The entirety of the first season also is more devoted to actual crime-solving and detective work than I remembered the show being. I think that works strongly in its favor, and as I recall things from later seasons, drifting from that element definitely hampers the show greatly. In particular, while the lazy and uncomfortable Orientalism of "The Blind Banker" is still incredibly glaring, the actual mystery at the core of it is very excitingly tracked and easily followed while watching. The fact that John is treated like an equal (mostly) throughout only enhances my thoughts on that. "The Great Game" is a little more slapdash (and hurt by the fact that the entire Vermeer section would be solvable with a smartphone nowadays), but you can still make connections mentally with most of the cases and deduction/investigation is being shown logically. (hbomberguy cites the Golem as a problematic logical leap akin to some of Season Two's dumbest, and I can't agree. It's a reasonable suspension of disbelief to assume Sherlock knows about assassins and is followed by some more sensible investigation and inspection of the Golem's victim. The sequence of Sherlock fighting the Golem, however, is very, very silly.)

Related to that... the autopsy doctors on this show are fucking AWFUL at their jobs. Like straight-up negligently awful. How in the actual fuck did they not investigate the puncture marks on Connie Price's body? How did they not notice a highly distinctive heel tattoo on three recently-murdered corpses? Is Molly the only vaguely competent person in the mortuary? My partner and I were extremely amused that, while Lestrade and his police force are thankfully shown with much more intelligence than in other Holmes adaptations and BBC!Watson wouldn't think jam is a clue, the writers seem to have shunted the stupidity straight to the invisible autopsy doctors.

The first season also does a good job of making Sherlock seem like an overly intelligent if socially stunted human being, instead of the condescending prickish intellectual Ubermensch he ends up becoming as the show progresses. "A Study in Pink"'s ending being Sherlock throwing aside his deduction of the cabbie's killer when he realizes it's Watson, unconvincingly lying to Lestrade and insisting he's in shock before rejoining the other man and genuinely bonding with him, is remarkably compelling as fulfillment of a promise we get from Lestrade earlier in the episode - "Sherlock Holmes is a great man. One day he may even be a good one." My memory is admittedly faulty, but part of why "The Empty Hearse" turned me off so viscerally was Sherlock's (and to an extent, Mycroft's) insufferable growing smugness, particularly where explaining plans or mysteries to John. We get told often that Watson humanizes Sherlock and that the two have a strong bond throughout the series, but Sherlock gets much more dickish in general as the series progresses. One thing I do remember with stark clarity is that after being utterly chastised at a Christmas party in "A Scandal in Belgravia", Sherlock does visibly treat Molly MUCH better throughout the remainder of the show. So, uh, why did we lose that energy with the show's central pairing?

Speaking of the show's central pairing, the queerbaiting starts SO EARLY on this show. I want to make it clear that obviously the benefit of hindsight and knowledge of how the show ends really colors a lot about the Johnlock relationship now, and as a society, we're more aware of what queerbaiting is and what it looks like, which will obviously alter how I perceive these interactions now. I also want to make it clear that I never really shipped Johnlock outside of just kind of assuming that it would be canon because everyone seemed really convinced of it. (I was an absolute degenerate that shipped John with Moriarty. On top of enjoying theatrical disasters, I enjoy ships with an abundance of chaos and impossibility.) There's some biases at play here.

Even so, we are not far into the episode where John is protesting that obviously he needs a second bed in 221B to Mrs. Hudson, he's not gay! The scene in the restaurant has such an aggressively shippy energy to it (despite Watson's consistent denials) that I actively commented on it to my partner as it was happening, saying "the queerbaiting happens WAY SOONER than I thought!" It's distracting and has aged absolutely terribly. The worst by far is John quipping, after being removed from a bomb vest at a pool in "The Great Game", that people will talk because of Sherlock ripping his clothes off in a darkened swimming pool. Why is Watson's heterosexuality so fragile that he's thinking about gossip rags as he's actively recovering from a near-death experience?!

(Aside: I'm aware that last point is not as effective when you think about the fact that I shipped two characters whose sole canonical interaction was one man kidnapping and forcing the other into a bomb vest. In my defense, a) I love mess and b) John never quips about thinking people will talk because he got kidnapped.)

Moriarty's first appearance in "The Great Game" sees him as Molly's fake boyfriend slipping a phone number to Sherlock, which lead to my partner commenting about how distracting it also was, on top of the queerbaiting, that almost every single person on the show has some sort of deep metaphysical attraction to Sherlock. Those people aren't on the lighting and cinematography team for sure; Benedict Cumberbatch is lit ominously and sometimes demonically throughout the first season, highlighting his antihero and brusque nature effectively. But many, many characters in the show - just in season one, Molly, Moriarty, multiple characters of the day, the Cabbie, and John - are all drawn to Sherlock and his very special brain and his very sharp cheekbones. Signs of a big future problem come through in this way, where the show starts sidelining Watson as our central figure and puts Sherlock squarely at the center of everyone's universe and makes lesbians fall in love with him.

(My partner also laughed pretty hard at how obvious Moriarty's pratfalls were as Molly's boyfriend, noting that the show was pretty bad at hiding who Moriarty was every time it came up.)

Some of the seeds of Sherlock's destruction are sown in this first season, obviously. The big one I haven't touched on is the ending cliffhanger itself. Moriarty has John and Sherlock trapped in the pool, tens of sniper sights trained on them, and says that he can't let them escape. Amazing cliffhanger here! It is not fulfilled on at all, but because Andrew Scott can carry anything on his back (including Spectre, which I cannot start talking about because we'll be here all day), the scene doesn't feel like a total waste and makes you want to hang on to find out what happens later.

But there was so much here that was delightful. All the acting is uniformly excellent, and the overt physical tics that come to define Sherlock's mind palace and mental prowess being showcased are barely evident here. The actual detective work, like I said earlier, is really involving! I don't feel like I figured out the solutions for the mysteries I couldn't recall the answers for too easily and thought Sherlock's deductive reason largely followed and wasn't too obscure. I'm still such a sucker for the show's style - that opening credits sequence is so perfectly put together, the text messages that interact with the scene and at the time made this show feel so fresh and modern to me, filming the character's faces in taxis through panes of glass and obscuring material in "A Study in Pink" to give everything an obfuscating sheen... give me all of it.

The music, too, was something I'd forgotten about and truly ended up adoring. Taskmaster (and The Horne Section's score for it) really owes a debt to Michael Price and David Arnold. So much of Sherlock's score could probably be dropped straight into a Taskmaster episode and I would have to think pretty hard to notice a difference in the show's usual musical palette. I've been eyeballing the vinyl on eBay, to give you an idea of how much I love this score. "The Game is On" is a perfect piece of music, clockwork spinning noises emphasizing the jauntiness of Sherlock as he drags Watson on his latest case before sliding into the more subdued, vaguely ominous thrum of its second movement descending into the madness of the third part, violins shrieking as the action reaches its apex.

Normally, with such a degree of pleasant surprise, I'd be eager to move forward to Season Two. Unfortunately, I know the first episode of Season Two is... a doozy. To say the least. A doozy that may get its own essay because of how doozy-ish it is.

In any case, I ended up really enjoying going back to Season One of Sherlock! Super down to talk further about the show, future write-ups, and my horrible taste in fictional ships and men - shoot me a message, reply to this post, wherever, I'll be here! <3

[hairstevington]

flowers and ink (part 8)

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Chrissy stops by the shop to have a necessary conversation. Speaking of necessary conversations, Eddie pays a visit to Steve afterwards.

part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven, link to Ao3

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: TattooArtist/Florist modern day AU, this one gets kind of emotional actually??? Deep conversations about their pasts, pretty on-par with canon stuff, and then a very sweet ending :)

A/N: Okay, you guys - we're headed to the finish line! After this I most likely will just post one more chapter as an epilogue of sorts. Thank you to all who have followed along!! I never expected this one to get this much love!!

Steve and Eddie saw each other for three days in a row over their first three dates. After that, neither of them wanted to break their streak. 

Yeah. They were both totally obsessed with each other.

They didn’t go on dates every night, but they’d at least visit each other during breaks on days when they both worked. And they texted constantly. Eddie even joined in on Robin and Steve’s movie night, which apparently was a big deal. They’d only ever let one other person crash their movie night, a surrogate little brother figure of Steve’s who was friends with Will. 

Steve still never pressed Eddie for more information about his past, which was great, but the weird thing was that Eddie actually wanted to tell Steve about his life. 

That was a first.

It probably didn’t help that it was all on his mind from seeing Gareth and Chrissy over the weekend. Just a lot of reminders of what happened and what he left behind. He tried to remind himself of how he was happier now, and the new life he’d built for himself, but he still felt guilty. 

So, when Chrissy showed up to Ink About It, Eddie wasn’t the least bit surprised, and he knew exactly what she wanted to know.

“Hey,” she said with a warm smile. “Do you have some time to squeeze me in?”

“Always,” Eddie replied, gesturing for her to join him in the office. “So, are we getting a tattoo today or just addressing the elephant in the room? Or, maybe you want a tattoo of a giant elephant in a room? Let me know and I’m at your service. I owe it to you, after all.”

He was rambling. He knew he was. But he was nervous and embarrassed and a ton of other things. The truth was, he’d loved Chrissy in high school. Like real, deep, meaningful love, and then he cut her off. He cut everyone off, but that was no excuse.

“I’m not mad at you, you know,” Chrissy said. The sentence made Eddie stop dead in his tracks and spin around to face her. “Not anymore, anyway.”

“That’s, uh, good,” Eddie stuttered. He was eased by the fact that Chrissy seemed a bit nervous, too. 

“Well,” she said on an exhale. “You heard my side of things at the show. Your turn.”

Thank God the tattoo shop was dead. He didn’t have an appointment for another hour, and it was during their slowest time of day so he doubted anyone would walk in. 

“Thanks for saying all that, by the way,” Eddie replied. “You could have made me sound like a real dick.” 

The way that Chrissy had painted their whole relationship in a positive light was the only reason he’d been able to hold it together during and after the show. If she’d talked shit about him on that stage, he probably would have skipped town a second time due to humiliation. 

But she didn’t do that. 

“Yeah, well, lucky for you, I didn’t write the show when I was eighteen,” she teased. “Although there are some very angsty poems in a journal somewhere that I should probably burn.” Eddie laughed, then nodded in understanding.

“I have some….really angsty songs that have never seen the light of day,” he noted. 

“Oh, I bet. The ones I did hear were already pretty scary,” she joked, laughing lightly. 

Eddie used to play all of his original songs for her. Well, almost all of them. There was one he wrote about how he was pretty sure he liked men that he never got the chance to show her. In any case, the way she was still joking and being her familiar sweet self (as opposed to her badass, confident stage persona) made Eddie feel a bit more relaxed. He took a deep breath, noticing the way she was waiting for him to speak. 

Here goes nothing. 

“I didn’t graduate, Chris,” he began. Her eyes went wide.

“What?! No, you - you did. We graduated together. You just didn’t go because you were sick.”

“I didn’t go because I got busted for selling and then was expelled,” Eddie admitted. “I was barely passing my classes anyway. Most of the teachers took pity on me just so I didn’t have to retake the year. But then uh - well, yeah. I got kicked out.”

“But I didn’t -” Chrissy was completely stunned. “I had no idea.”

“I didn’t tell anyone,” he replied. 

He hadn’t. The only person that knew was his uncle. Wayne was the only family member that gave a shit about Eddie, so naturally he was Eddie’s phone call the day of the arrest. Wayne bailed him out and, next thing Eddie knew, he was in Hawkins. 

“Anyway,” Eddie continued. “I was so embarrassed I just…left and didn’t look back. At the time I thought you were better off without me, honestly. You said it yourself - before you met me, you hadn’t even smoked before.”

“Before I met you I was -” Chrissy scoffed and shook her head, baffled. “I start the show talking about the day I met you for a reason. It’s because my life began that day, Eddie. You weren’t some bad influence that corrupted me, you were an escape from - from my shitty friends and my even shittier mom. And you were what sparked me to figure out who I was, and that’s special to me. You were my best friend. And you could have told me.”

Her final sentence stung, but it was a good kind of sting. His secret was finally on the table, and she was still there. She was still supporting him. 

“I know that now,” he replied. “I’ve wanted to reach out for ages, but it felt like the more time that went by-”

“I understand,” she said, nodding. “I get it. It’s okay, I just - I missed you.”

Chrissy closed the gap between them and hugged him tightly, an embrace that Eddie quickly accepted. 

“I missed you too,” he responded. They held each other for a few extended moments, then broke away, a tension off their shoulders. “Do you live here now?”

“For the time being,” she answered. “Argyle and I move around a lot. We just kind of point somewhere on a map and go.”

“Shit, and you ended up here?” Eddie asked, surprised. “That’s, like, a crazy coincidence.”

“Yeah, well Argyle always tells me that we end up exactly where we’re meant to go,” Chrissy responded, smiling. 

“I like that guy,” Eddie said, nodding. 

“Of course you do,” she teased. “You’re both weird stoners with awesome hair.” Eddie laughed, flattered at the compliment. He took a moment to look at her - the way she looked just as she did, but so different at the same time. More laugh lines in her face, for one. Her hair was shinier and fuller. There was more color to her skin. Eddie wondered if that was what happiness looked like. 

“Just so we’re clear,” Eddie said, needing to say one last thing before they moved on. “What you said about me on stage the other day -” He didn’t need to specify. Chrissy spoke about their relationship fondly and candidly. “It was the same for me.”

“I know,” she replied, smiling more brightly now. “Okay! So, we finally got that out of the way.”

“Finally,” Eddie echoed. “Now what?”

“Now,” she started, “we talk about your boyfriend and his ridiculously hot friend.”

Eddie chuckled, then nodded. 

“Okay, well first of all, he’s not my boyfriend.” Chrissy eyed him, knowingly, which he chose to ignore. 

“Whatever,” Chrissy dismissed. “Figures we’re both queer, by the way. I love that for us.”

“They say we travel in packs,” Eddie joked. Chrissy nodded in agreement. “Anyway, Robin’s awesome. Have you gone out with her yet?”

“Tonight!” Chrissy responded. “And I’m very excited. That’s another reason I came here. I wanted to clear the air in case you come up in conversation, because it seems like anything I tell her will just go straight to your boyfriend -”

“Not my boyfriend,” Eddie reminded her, smirking. 

“Why not?  I saw the way you look at each other,” Chrissy noted. 

“Because it’s only been a few weeks,” Eddie pointed out. 

“And?” she prodded.

“It’s too soon,” Eddie insisted, pretending to scratch at a spot on his cheek to hide the blush creeping up his face. “Moving on.”

“Moving on,” Chrissy replied with a smug grin. 

She stuck around the tattoo shop to catch up until his next appointment, and it felt a lot like old times. Eddie thought for the longest time he’d burned every bridge from his hometown, but recently he’d learned that he’d left the water underneath unscathed. 

Who needed a bridge when Chrissy and Gareth could swim?

-

Steve worked at a literal flower shop, and yet he was just starting to truly understand the expression, ‘stop and smell the roses.’

He was in total bliss. Things with Eddie were great. It had been a long time since Steve had felt such an easy connection with someone. They clicked on pretty much every level. And, best of all, Eddie got along with Robin too. If she approved of him, that basically meant - well, it was a big deal.

So, he felt lighter at work now. He was better at handling customers. He started to memorize the things Robin used to constantly have to remind him of. Being around plants all day almost made him feel high - like the air was better or something. Actually, Steve wasn’t the most academic guy, but he was pretty sure being around plants and flowers all day did give him a better oxygen supply. He kept telling himself to ask Robin or Google it, but then he’d get distracted thinking about Eddie. 

The joys of the honeymoon phase. 

It was the night that Robin was going to go out with Chrissy for the first time. She was, naturally, a ball of nerves, but in a good way. Steve had high hopes for their date. 

“You are way too happy lately,” Robin told him. “It’s spooky.”

“Yeah, well -” Steve began, stumbling on a response. “Get used to it.” 

He sent her off, and then checked his phone. 

Eddie: Can I stop by?

Okay, normally that kind of text would send Steve into blind panic, but he tried to remain optimistic. This could be a nice surprise visit, not a devastating one. He sat in the silent apartment for approximately 30 seconds before the overthinking began.

The last time he’d seen Eddie, everything was fine. Nothing out of the ordinary. Although, Steve had never been the most observant. He wracked his brain going over their last interactions to see if he’d maybe missed something. 

Oh, shit. Never mind, he was for sure panicking. 

Steve: Of course! Robin left so it’s just us 🙂 ETA?

Eddie: On my way now, see you soon!

Well, at least he was using punctuation. Although, that didn’t mean anything necessarily. Steve had been dumped a few times, and -

No, come on. He was not about to get dumped. They weren’t even officially together, so an in-person visit to end things wouldn’t make sense. 

This was fine. Everything was fine. 

The door opened ten minutes later. Thank god. 

“Hey,” Eddie greeted as he walked in. He seemed a little nervous, but not upset. “How was your day?”

If he was going to break up with Steve, he wouldn’t have bothered with the pleasantries, right? 

“It was good, how was yours?” Steve asked, doing his best impression of a Chill Person™.

“Chrissy stopped by the shop today,” Eddie began. “And we just - I hadn’t talked to her in so long, and it was really nice.”

Steve let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in.

“That does sound nice,” he replied. 

“Listen, Steve, I -” Eddie shifted his weight back and forth on his feet. “There’s a lot about my life I don’t talk about. Like, from before I moved here. I hadn’t told anybody about it until today, actually.”

“Dude, were you in the mob or something?” Steve asked, completely lost. “Just tell me what’s going on before I burst.”

“Wait, why are you nervous?” Eddie wondered.

“Uhh, because you sent me an ominous text message asking if you could ‘stop by’ and you’re taking for-goddamn-ever in telling me why,” Steve joked. Eddie literally facepalmed. 

“Oh, Jesus Christ. You’re right, my bad.” Steve chuckled in relief. “No, it’s not - that’s not why I came over, trust me.”

“Okay, cool.” Steve waited for Eddie to continue. “So?”

“I just - I feel like I have to tell you something.”

“Okay, now you’re doing the ominous thing again,” Steve said, rolling his eyes playfully. “Come on, talk to me.”

“I was arrested when I was eighteen for selling drugs to minors,” Eddie blurted out. His eyes went wide, as if he hadn’t expected the words to actually come out. “I mean, to high school students. And it was just weed, by the way.” Steve crossed his arms, waiting for more. 

“Okay,” he said, relatively unfazed. 

“You’re not - wait, why aren’t you judging me?”

“Because I bought weed all the time in high school. That’s not much different.”

“I mean, it’s a little different,” Eddie argued. “But okay. Well I - I never graduated high school, either. I don’t have a diploma.”

“Okay,” Steve repeated. “Do you need one?”

“I - well, no, but - what are you - how do - but - I -”

“Okay, woah,” Steve said, chuckling. He walked to Eddie and put a hand on each side of him. “You know I was a mess when I was a teenager too, right? I already told you about some of the shit I got into. I also started a lot of fights - and I lost all of them, by the way. I’m pretty sure if I get one more concussion I’ll die. And I have a diploma, but I didn’t get into any colleges -”

“You mean you don’t care about anything I just told you?” Eddie asked, confused. “You don’t think of me any differently?”

“What? No, why would I?” Steve answered casually. “I used to be a total asshole, and I should have gotten a lot worse than I did. I was just lucky and rich, that’s all.”

“You were rich?” Steve chuckled. 

“Yeah, past tense,” he clarified. “I was such an asshole that my parents disowned me the second I turned eighteen.” 

“Shit,” Eddie said, exhaling. Steve’s hands slid down Eddie’s arms to his hands, fingers interlocking. 

“I don’t care about that stuff,” Steve assured him. “You don’t still sell drugs, right?”

“No,” Eddie replied, shaking his head. 

“Just like I’m not an asshole anymore,” Steve continued. “Right?”

“You’re the nicest person I’ve ever met, I think,” Eddie responded quickly. Once again, he seemed alarmed at what he was saying. 

“That sounds…impossible,” Steve teased, leaning in to kiss Eddie gently on the cheek. “But I’ll take it.”

Eddie could literally feel his heart warming in his chest. He’d spent years holding all of this inside, and carrying so much shame within him. But he’d gotten forgiveness from Chrissy, and Steve was entirely unbothered. 

Steve - the Flower Boy who took Eddie completely by surprise in the best way. He’d never imagined falling so hard for a guy like him, yet here he was. It was like what Argyle apparently said - we all end up where we’re meant to go. 

Eddie fully intended on befriending Argyle next, by the way.

“Hey, Steve?” Eddie whispered, their foreheads pressed together. 

“Yeah?”

“You wanna be my boyfriend?”

He didn’t plan on asking this particular night. As he’d told Chrissy, they hadn’t been dating very long, and it was still early. But Eddie was on a roll, and the moment felt right.

Steve smiled, confirming that he felt it, too.

“Yeah, I’d love to be your boyfriend.”

(final part)

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[veritable-trash]

May Our Flowers Always Bloom

guess who spent wayyyy too much time on canva making this(it's me)

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Fem!Character(unnamed, 3rd person, minimal descriptors)also this is a fantasy AU where oberyn is a forest prince, canon be damned

Summary: He could still remember the first time he saw her enter his grove. Not many dared to venture so far into the wood but she had seemed so at ease. Feet bare to the moss and dirt, flowers delicately woven in her hair, a song he’d never heard gracing her lips. 

He’d been stunned.

Word Count: 3.3K

Rating: T - no smut, though maybe there will be??? who knows, but also parental death, and at this point i think that's it. let me know if i missed something! my whole blog is 18+ anyways so kiddos SCRAM

A/N: hahahaha holy shit. it's been actually an age since i've written anything at all and then today i said fuck it we write and then i wrote this. this is a little fantasy au with my lover oberyn who i've wanted to write for AGES. canon is not really relevant here other than like general personality and such. i might write a part two, maybe make this a series, but every time i say that i never finish or write it so i'm just gonna leave this here for now and see what happens. more rambles, notes thoughts at the end but i hope you enjoy!!!! also minimally edited basically just skimmed so apologies for any mess :) <33333

masterlist woot woot

~~~~~

She had grown up at the edge of the great woods. 

A bit further from the village than maybe strictly necessary but her parents had always been a little off, at least by the town folks standards. 

They had always turned to the earth, turned to the plants to heal and guide them and she had grown with her toes wiggled into the soft dirt, hands clutching at wildflowers and weeds. She knew nothing else. Hated the noise and the chaos of the town. How people stared and whispered about the wild family out in the woods.

She never felt like she was wild. Almost felt as if the townsfolk themselves were the wild ones. But she toed the line between the “real” world and the world of her creation.

The magical realm of the woods.

Her parents had of course warned her of respecting the forest. That though they tried to live as one with all that the earth provided, there were dangers that lurked among the gnarled roots and towering pines. She must tread carefully and never, ever after dark. 

And she obeyed, but only just. Curled up against the base of the trees, writing or sewing or singing or musing, until the sun barely grazed the top most points of those towering giants high above her and the forest began to melt into darkness and secrets.

Those were her favorite moments, eyes adjusting to the low light, fireflies dancing between the trunks and leaves, the calm silence filtering its way signaling the time for rest, and for some reason she could never explain she never felt danger. Even when she would reappear from the woods, darkness having fully settled and her parents scolding her for staying out so long, she somehow knew nothing would harm her among those woods. 

She was somehow interwoven with the roots and moss and flowers and leaves. 

~~~~~

He could still remember the first time he saw her enter his grove. Not many dared to venture so far into the wood but she had seemed so at ease. Feet bare to the moss and dirt, flowers delicately woven in her hair, a song he’d never heard gracing her lips. 

He’d been stunned.

Oberyn had only just been allowed to venture in the human realm. He was still a child to his mother, the wild unruly one who could not be trusted to keep the secrets of Dorne to himself. To understand that the human realm could not know, never know, about the forest kingdom. 

For even though Oberyn could see her in the brightest light of day, she could not see him. He could only appear as one of those verdant things that always seemed to attract her attention. Only upon his knighthood could he enter the human world. 

And so he watched her. 

Sat with her in those mystic groves. Grew her beautiful flowers to pick and adorn her hair. Whispered to the lightening bugs to guide her home when she stayed till twilight. Followed her through the forest until the very edge, keeping her safe, clearing her way, making sure nothing harmed her on her return home. 

They were both so young when they stumbled upon each other in that wood, knowingly and unknowingly, and he grew to cherish those moments. He had always felt a bit different from his family. Lonely and misunderstood, and for some reason around her he felt whole. A calmness settling over his ever twitching hands that he was constantly scolded for. 

He knew he was young, infatuation fickle and deceiving, and yet he could not lie to himself that his heart somehow felt tethered to her. Even the silent companionship of reading right next to her filled the gapes between his ribs with warmth. 

He would sometimes read over her shoulder at the pages of the newest novel she was devouring, aching to know more about the world she came from. Aching to know more about this girl that haunted all of his dreams. 

If his family noticed a shift in his habits, they paid no mind, ever the youngest child, left to his own devices, but he yearned for his knighthood. Ached to be known to her somehow, for it was torture only being able to ghost soft gentle breezes across her skin. Watch her skin prickle, and the most content sigh to fall from her lips. 

He could go mad with this want. 

~~~~~

Her parents passed soon after her 18th birthday.

It had been sudden and destructive. A trip to the market for more supplies cut short by an overturned cart and poor poor timing. The village had helped her but even with such grief and suffering regarded her with distrust. 

The wild girl loosing her wild parents, it truly is no surprise. Who knows what they get up to in that little shack by the woods. Witchcraft probably. Yes, yes most likely so. 

And when the whispers and worry and pain all became too much, the wood was still always there. The first few months after her parents passing she would run there. Tripping over roots as tears overflowed in her eyes, not sparing those flowers even a second glance as she collapsed in the middle of the grove, sun filtering around her but her body feeling nothing. 

She’d dig her nails in the moss, tearing at it as she wailed to no one and nothing, aching for something to ease the pain of a loose she still did not know how to process. Would lay there, unmoving for hours on end until the numbness finally took over and she was able to walk home, unfeeling and disjointed, reality but a film over her eyes. And even in those most dire moments the wood somehow always guided her home as though the trees opened themselves up to create a path.

Her work continued, mothers came for tonics for crying babes, elders came for salves for their aching limbs, and she continued to bear the mantle her parents had trained her for all these years. She had to make coin somehow and the work steadied her. Reminded her of her mothers calming cadence listing off ingredients, her father teaching her of proper techniques for harvesting.

She grew many years in the span of only a few months, but she had to hardened. Had to strengthen her spine and learn to be sure in herself even when it felt like all her threads were fraying. 

The woods were all that saved her in those trying moments.

It was somehow always warm and soothing, wild flowers littering her path as she traveled aimlessly to cleanse her mind. Picking them one by one to build the most beautiful bouquet that would grace her work table in the cottage. It was a ritual for her at this point in her life, always returning to that sacred groove that somehow gave her the greatest peace she’d ever known. Where worries seemed to melt into the soil beneath her feet and lighten the load on her shoulders just a touch. Always a gentle breeze to remind her of the wonders of the wood. The calm that could be found there. 

Her strides back home were always a touch more assured, a touch lighter, and she somehow knew it was all going to be alright somewhere in the end. And every time she’d step out of the wood, she would always turn around and whisper,

Thank you.

~~~~~

You’re welcome flower. 

He was taller than her now, able to look down into her eyes when she whispered those simple two words that set his heart racing. Sometimes it even seemed like she was looking right at him, eyes somehow connecting even between the realms, though he knew it was not true. 

He’d been at a loss when she’d first stumbled into their grove, tears staining her cheeks. He could not understand what plagued her. Was it heartbreak? Had she loved another? Had they hurt her so? 

It had sent him into a rage he’d never felt before. The jealousy, the want, no the need to hurt whoever had hurt his flower overwhelmed him till he could barely see straight. 

His hands had ghosted over her hunched spine, he’d whispered his sorrow for her suffering and it only drove him crazier.

The knowledge that she felt none of it. Wasn’t able to hear a single word. 

He grew her flowers, sent her breezes, shifted the very earth of the groove to cradle her in the plushest of moss and yet her eyes seemed to register none of it. 

They were hollow and vacant, the pain seeming to have sucked every twinkle that had made his heart skip.

But he never stopped trying.

He couldn’t stop. His flower, as he’d started calling her, was suffering a pain he could not understand but he could try and fix. 

Though he was still but a boy, he wanted to be a man for her. 

He grew brighter blooms, lined a path for her to walk to and from the groove, sent breezes filled with orange blossom and spiced earth to ease her heart, used his powers, though still weak, in every way he knew how, and slowly he saw his flower blooming once again.

The first time she’d picked a flower after that never ending winter of pain, he almost shed a tear. Her eyes had sparkled just slightly and she’d tucked it behind her ear, the softest hum of content gracing his ears. 

He felt as though he had slain the greatest beast that ever lived. 

~~~~~

It had been two years almost to the day after her parents passing that the forest had shifted.

She didn’t know how to explain it but the air between the trees no longer smelled of orange blossoms and cinnamon. 

It just smelled like the dirt and decaying leaves and dampness that came with the forest. 

There were no flowers lining the way to that ever calming clearing like she had grown so accustomed to. No soft breeze pushing her along. 

She couldn’t understand it, and even more perplexing was the single most beautiful flower that she found growing in the center of groove.

A lone sprig of forget-me-nots trembling in a breeze that only held the faintest notes of that orange blossom that she had known for the past two years. 

Something in her heart stirred, body growing both cold and hot all at once, unsure of how to understand what this shift, this change all meant. 

It felt almost blasphemous to pick the flower, and yet she couldn’t leave it all alone in this place that no longer felt like a home to her. So she delicately clipped it at its base and turned around and walk back to the cottage. 

The journey took longer than usual, no guiding flowers or friendly lighting bugs to guide her, and her heart sank further as though she had lost something great once again. 

She gently pressed the flower between the pages of her most treasured journal clutching it to her chest as she watched the forest, as if waiting for something to emerge, the sparkle to return, for the forest to feel like hers again.

But as the sun sank behind the treetops and the sky shifted into the darkness, the forest did not call to her. 

It was the first time in a very, very long time that she truly felt alone.

~~~~~

Oberyn had both not wanted to leave and ached eternally to start his quests. He knew what it meant to turn 20. To reach the age where knighthood must be found in a man, for he had longed for this day all his life.

But watching the confusion and pain on her face as she left the forest that day felt like a knife in his gut. A weeping wound that he did not know he would survive. 

He had been foolish to leave the flower, he knew that. Risky and impulsive and dangerous to say the least but he could not leave her without somehow saying goodbye. Without somehow showing her that he would come back, that he could never stay away from her for too long, but he could not foretell how long his quests would be. No way of knowing where he would go, who he would meet, the man he would become in the distant realms.

There was war out there, struggle and strife, and he knew his family expected greatness from him. When Doran, his older brother, had returned from his journeys, he came back with prestige and honor, but he had also come back with an illness that it seemed no one could heal.

What if Oberyn was left like his brother after his journeys? How many years would he be gone? What if he could not return to his flower? What if she left the forests edge to never be found again?

He could barely sleep the days leading up to his departure, and those final moments with her in the groove brought him to his knees. 

He knew he was young, knew that loves came and went and that there would maybe be others for him to love, but something about her called to him in ways he had never understood. And yet if he wished to truly be with her, to brush the delicate skin of her cheeks, to hear her say his name, to feel the warmth of her skin against his, he had to go. He had to toil and suffer and fight and return back to this place and finally reveal himself to her as he has always wished to.

That was the only way. 

And so a flower he left. A memento of their many years together that she knew nothing about but maybe someday would learn of when the time was right. 

~~~~~

She didn’t exactly avoid the forest after that strange day, but she didn’t tempt the fates so to speak.

There was a change in the energy of the forest, a boundary of sorts she had never felt, cutting her off from something. She no longer stayed into the twilight hours, returning earlier and earlier from her scavenging and harvesting, and even stranger was she hadn’t been able to find her groove. 

It was as though it had disappeared completely, a figment of her imagination. The trees looked the same, the path well worn by her own two feet and yet she could never seem to reach it. It always seemed just around the next bend and it made her brain wobble. 

Her reality was somehow shifting and changing, as though those years after her parents passing had been just a daydream. But now she knew how to survive loss. Knew how to put her head down, focus on her work, her garden, the townspeople, her home. One day in town on an errand she had stumbled upon a scruffy little kitten, skittish and hungry, and had wrapped him up in her arms and brought him home. 

Viper and her were inseparable from that day forth. 

And though every so often she would stare at the forests edge, a wistful sigh escaping her lips, there was a life to be lived. Her life. A life that she had been neglecting for too long and had been too afraid to start.   

Life became a bit easier after that. The realization of wanting a future that made her proud, that would have made her parents proud, focusing her and giving her new purpose. She was no longer that wild girl of her youth, but a woman of healing to those in need. The valley she lived in wasn’t extremely large, but there were enough children with runny noses and achy joints to keep her busy and fulfilled. 

The days, months, even years began to pass in calm waves, time lapping at the shores of her life, peace finding its way back in her heart, her soul.

Though every once in awhile loneliness would come again. A chill in her spine reminding her of all that she had lost, all that she could never have, and the only balm in those moments was pressed between the pages of that old weathered journal. Even years later there still remained a trace of that orange blossom spice between those pages and somehow the blue of the flower remained true. 

She sometimes would worry that one day she would open the journal and the flower would be gone, all traces of those memories erased as if they never existed, but that day never came.

~~~~~

His quest seemed never-ending. The distances he traveled unfathomable even to his understanding. 

It felt like there was no land he had not traversed as he fought and learned and matured. 

A lanky boy no longer but a man, roughened, shaped, cut, molded, and broken apart only to be thrown back together again.

He thought of his flower more often than he cared to admit.

~~~~~

It was the 10 year anniversary of her parents passing. 

A lifetime so it seemed and yet the ache still lingered fresh every year on the day. 

She knew it always would and now after so much time it was more comforting than painful, knowing that she would always hold them close in her heart. The pain now a symbol of love not suffering. 

That morning had felt strangely fresh, the air lighter around her as the sun rose above the mountains, an unidentifiable familiarity weaving through the breeze. 

She entered the forest as she always did, though there was no plan for this walk. No need to scavenge, no pressure to look for fresh herbs. This walk was to mourn, to honor her parents and the memories she held of them in this sacred place. 

Weaving between the trees, it somehow felt new to her, like the light had shifted once again, coloring the path before her in the richest of greens. She closed her eyes for just a moment and could almost hear her mothers laugh echo between the branches and leaves above her. A lone tear trickling down her cheek as she couldn’t help but smile at the thought. 

As she aimlessly moved through the forest, she got lost in her own mind. The memories of so many moments flashing before her as she pondered all that she had lived through. A life so full and yet, today, as it happened every year, she felt lonely. No longer achingly so, but still, there was a life she still desired that had never presented itself to her. 

A love like her parents had.

She was no nun by any means, but no one had ever grasped her attention the way she had always dreamed. Maybe she was fickle, cold and reserved, but her heart had suffered much and for some reason no one had ever felt right. 

Her mind continued to weave through her memories, the forest thickening around her as she traveled deeper and deeper into the green. It had been a long time since she had gone this far, but today it felt ok to keep going. As though a solid hand lay at the base of her spine guiding her gently along. 

All of a sudden the tree line broke, that ancient grove appearing before her once more as though it had been waiting for her arrival. 

Her breath stalled in her chest as memories came flooding back faster and faster. The tears, the flowers, the pain, the joy, the tranquility, the confusion, the comfort, the love. 

She collapsed to the soft mossy floor, the feelings bringing back the strongest deja vu, burying her head in her hands as tears blurred her vision. It felt like some kind of dream, some inexplicable moment of fiction. 

Then the breeze kicked up and she smelled it.

Orange blossoms and cinnamon.

And as she opened her eyes, tears tracking down her cheeks, she saw him. 

A man too beautiful to be real crouching before her, a look of devastating devotion etched in his golden irises.

“Hello my flower.”

~~~~~

whoop whoop of course i left it on a cliffhanger come on now it's the best way to do it :))))))) anyways lifes been kinda crazy and so writing has just been not a priority but i had a lot of fun writing this. i definitely don't like writing dialogue hence ending at this point because there haven't been any interactions between these two BUT i missed this and want to push myself to write again and maybe this is the perfect way to do it. so maybe they will interact soonish who really knows <3 reblogs comments are like super duper appreciated and loved so if you liked it or have thoughts or generally just wanna ramble about how hot this man is come hit my line! anyways hugs kisses the whole gambut of affection and maybe i'll be writing to ya soon <333333333

[brick-a-doodle-do]

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FAIR WARNING: I DONT KNOW WHAT THE FUCK IM DOING IN TERMS OF MY UNFINISHED FICS/IDEAS/AUS AND ALSO ALL THE DRAMA............JUST LET ME HOVER FOR A LITTLE BIT AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

my turn !!

(nqviiez -> brick-a-doodle-do)

[ my ao3 // taglist request ]

/// i am brick. a very sentient brick. perhaps an ickadodo even. she/her pronouns with no label on my sexuality (prolly greyromantic) !! i also write. a lot. but despite this it is very hard for me to be able to finish a full fic. i have a creative mind and a piss-poor attention span and the two do not mix ,,,,,

g/t and vore (sometimes; sfw) are my bitches. sprinkle it with angst? my cup of tea! if you don't like any of that, you're still welcome here but just be mindful of my interests!

pretty fluid with the people that interact with me, but if you are a nsfw-specific account dni as i am a minor :) also basic criteria such as people supporting racism, homophobia, etc., please dni!

also fyi please tag me in things you want me to see! my tumblr notifications are off and usually i only go blog-surfing every once in a while and rely on my dash so i don't get notified for a lot of stuff until quite a bit later! :)

NOW, into the funner stuff! (lots under cut)

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big aus !!

something's brewing ;; tagged #something's brewing au, #curiosity killed the cat

what is it?: an au where an over-curious tommy stumbles into the house of a giant wilbur, who immediately captures him into a jar. who's in it?: crimeboys centric. that will change. have i written for this?: yes! i, ii, iii, iv, v, vi (vore) + voreshot

wilbur chocolate ;; tagged #wilbur chocolate au

what is it?: an au where tommy, a human, is living in new york for the month on vacation and buys a bag of wilbur chocolates. to his surprise, when he opens it, he finds a tiny wilbur! who's in it?: the au focuses on crimeboys but will eventually introduce emduo! have i written for this?: yes! part 1, part 2, and part 3 any worldbuilding?: masterpost!

tiny workers ;; tagged #tiny workers au

what is it?: an au set in a size-difference themed theme park, where it explores the interactions between the borrower staff members and the surrounding humans who's in it?: the au focuses around sbi and dtqk most often, but the entirety of the dream smp + other ccs and people are featured! have i written for this?: yes! chapter one, x, x any worldbuilding?: yes! so much! the masterpost is here

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random ideas !!

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other fics !! (unmentioned ones)

oneshots !

dream smp

company and repairs i ;; t!tallerduo, g!bedrockbros company and repairs ii ;; t!tallerduo, g!bedrockbros

ghosts are better than humans ;; t!tommy, g!ghostbur ;; a gift

2022 summer exchange ;; t!george, t!karlnapity, g!dream ;; a gift

spy au: unofficial prologue ;; t!george, g!dream ;; ⚠️ vore

i'll run away and hide with you ;; t!tommy, g!phil

never fucking again ;; t!tommy, g!sapnap

oh george~ ;; t!george, g!dream ;; ⚠️ vore

meeting boo ;; t!tubbo, g!ranboo

don't fall ;; t!tommy, g!wilbur ;; not my au/fanfiction of fanfiction

the act of making noise (i) ;; t!tommy, t!techno, g!ranboo, g!wilbur

heavy is the head that gets no sleep ;; t!tommy, g!dream ;; ⚠️ vore

2022 secret santa ;; t!sam, g/mg!dream ;; a gift

hush ;; sizeshifter!tommy, g!wilbur, implied g!phil

still the wild winds blow ;; t!tommy, g!wilbur ;; ⚠️ vore

we will abide ;; t!karlity, g!sapnap ;; ⚠️ vore

feeble disguise ;; t!clingyduo, g!ranboo ;; ⚠️ vore

would you be so kind? ;; t!tommy, g!ghostbur

joy ride ;; t!wilbur, g!quackity, g!schlatt

off switch ;; t!tommy, g!wilbur ;; not my au!

april prompt ;; t!tommy, no defined g!

shroud, you...savior? ;; t!wilbur, g!tommy ;; rewritten/updated fic

close the windows, lock the doors ;; t!ghostboo, g!tubbo

you live life above me ;; t!sapnap, g!dream ;; short prompt series!

blinded by imperfect form ;; t!tommy, g!techno ;; short prompts series!

i'll be unclean, i'll be obscene ;; t!tommy, g!wilbur ;; short prompt series!

don't talk so much ;; t!tommy, g!wilbur ;; short prompt series! ;; tiny workers au

days of which you can't make me hate ;; t!tommy, g!wilbur ;; tiny workers au

but the smoke clears when you're around ;; t!techno, g!dream

the feeling comes so quickly ;; t!ranboo, g!techno, (brief) g!wilbur

my fingers pressed until they're sore ;; t!dream, g!sapnap ;; short prompt series!

and though it's no improvement ;; t!tommy, g!wilbur ;; ⚠️ vore

agony drips from me ;; t!micheal, t!tubbo, g!ranboo ;; ⚠️ vore

digestion ;; t!george, g!dream ;; short prompt series

every day's a test ;; t!tommy, g!wilbur ;; short prompt series/april prompts

you're stuck in the web ;; t!tommy, g!wilbur ;; ⚠️ vore

watcher

mere monstrosity ;; t!shane, g!ryan

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submitted through other blogs !

shroud, you...savior? ;; t!wilbur, g!tommy

the little things: written ;; t!tommy, g!wilbur ;; not my au

unnamed ;; t!karl, g!sapnap ;; ⚠️ vore

unnamed ;; t!tubbo, g!ranboo ;; ⚠️ vore

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other stuff !!

my art !

tightrope ;; t!wilbur, no defined g!

hamster wheel ;; t!wilbur, implied g!tommy

au hint ;; implied t!george, implied g!dream ;; barely art

paperclips from 1970 doodle ;; t!george, implied g!dream

more pf1970 doodles ;; t!george, implied g!dream

tw!tommy doodle ;; t!tommy

tinies & fruit ;; t!tommy, t!quackity, t!wilbur, implied g!tommy

fic scene ;; t!tommy, implied g!wilbur ;; fic link

broodles ;; implied t!ranboo, unmentioned t!tommy and g!wilbur, personal lore implied g!quackity and t!wilbur

irza attempt ;; not my au!

hittin' a jig ;; t!tommy, implied g!wilbur

sleeping (they hate each other) ;; t!tommy, g!techno

unwilling prey + nomf ;; t!techno, g!dream ;; ⚠️ implied/eventual vore

grabbing ;; t!dream, implied g!wilbur

homemade sweaters ;; t!quackity, t!niki, t!sapnap, t!george, t!ponk, t!tommy, t!sam, t!wilbur, g!dream

logsted painting

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fanart ! (if i am missing any PLEASE tell me pspspsps)

company and repairs scene ;; t!tallerduo, g!bedrockbros ;; (@.oh-i-need-a-name)

curiositybur ;; t!wilbur, implied g!tommy ;; (@.local-squishmallow)

fic-turned-comic ;; t!karl, g!sapnap ;; ⚠️ vore ;; (@.local-squishmallow)

close the windows fanart ;; t!ghostboo, g!tubbo ;; (@.justarandomsloth)

more ctwltd fanart ;; t!ghostboo, g!tubbo ;; (@.justarandomsloth)

tiny workers fanart ;; t!tommy, no defined g! (@.justarandomsloth)

c!brick fanart ;; (@.da3dm) ;; + additional accessory

more c!brick fanart ;; (@.beckyu)

pixie dust and mischief fanart ;; t!tommy (@.smiles-for-anon)

my secret santa 2023! ;; g!wilbur, t!tommy (x-monochrome-x)

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have a brick for making it to the bottom 🧱

[sailorsenshishitposter]

MGR office au part 6 - a day in the life of Jetstream Sam

After that awkward encounter with his boss, Sam got dressed and then double jumped onto the roof. He needed some space and didn't want to think about what had just happened. He gazed down the deadly height noticing a new face that he had never seen before. "What a pretty boy. I should go meet him." He then jumped all the way down and did a super hero landing, causing the earth to shatter beneath his feet. Since this was Denver, all the locals were used to strange events and paid no attention.

He ran towards the intriguing man and then stood in front of him. "Excuse me but would this happen to be you?" There was a poster in bold writing that said "HOT, SEXY CYBORGS IN YOUR AREA" The man responded back "Sorry. I'm from Liberia. You must have the wrong guy." He tried to walk away until Sam grabbed his shoulder. "Did it hurt?" The other man was now totally confused. "What?"

"I said did it hurt. When you fell. From Heaven." Sam then gave a massive shit eating grin and winked. The man let out a disgusted noise. "Ugh. What are you even supposed to be with that green exoskeleton? Shrek?" Sam chuckled. "Human Shrek I hope." He gave another smile. The other man became flustered. "You're impossible to get rid of!"

"No I'm Samuel Rodriguez but you can call me Papai ;) What's your name blondie?" The other man groaned. "I guess you won't leave me alone. My names Raiden all right? Not blondie!" Sam laughed. "Whatever you say pretty boy." As the two men were chatting, his colleagues began to wonder where he went?

Suddenly a voice came over the intercom. "Due to recent events, today's plans are cancelled. Next week we will be having a lesson on sexual harassment in the work place. Thank you all for understanding and good day." "Look at what you got us into Sundowner!" said Monsoon. The cyborg began to protest. "Hey, I got today's plan cancelled. More time for me to watch info wars. Besides, Sam's not here anyway!"

"While that may be true, we still won't be receiving payment today, no thanks to your actions and Mistral still wants to hang your corpse above her fireplace." Sundowner gulped. "Speakin' of which, where is she?" He carefully tip toed around the room only to nearly be caught by a whip. "MERDE! I ALMOST HAD YOU!" Sundowner then grabbed Monsoon. "Let's get outta here and find Sam!"

Soon they were outside of headquarters. "Okay, I think I'm safe now." The bald man let out a breath that he didn't realize he had been holding. "What the- Is that good ol' Sammy!" Monsoon used his vizor to zoom in. Low and behold, there was Sam along with some stranger. Without thinking, he blatantly asked "So Sundowner, who do you think is the top?" His coworker was now totally confused. "Why the hell are you bringin' up clothing?"

"...Nevermind. Let's not have another repeat of yesterday shall we? Anyway my Intel is telling me that the man he is with is a infamous cyborg called Raiden. Otherwise known as Mr. Lightning Bolt-" "No fuckin' way! They really call him that?" Sundowner was now on the ground cackling. Monsoon sighed. "If you will let me finish, he's a skilled child soldier from Liberia, directly took on the patriots and has-.... child bearing hips...?"

"What in the fuck man!?" Neither of them could believe what they just heard. "All right, change of plans. We'll observe them from afar." Ten minutes later and Sundowner had acquired a giant Amazon warehouse cardboard box that the two of them managed to fit in. "What's happenin'? How are you supposed to see what they're doing?" The other man grew tired of his coworkers idiocy. "You know very well that I'm blind and can't see. I'm going to try listening in on their conversation."

Monsoon detached an ear and carefully maneuvered it forward. Once he had it in range he careful set it down where the two men wouldn't notice it. "So what do you think about getting something to eat?" "As long as it doesn't taste like gunpowder it should be fine." "Wait, what-" Suddenly he couldn't hear them anymore. Sundowner looked outside and noticed that it had started to rain. "Whadda we do now?"

"Wind blows, rain falls. It's simply how things are. I'm not so weak as to quit from the threat of a mere storm." He called his ear back. "I'll simply use my electromagnetism to my advantage. Watch and learn." Sundowner nodded. "If you say so." Soon Monsoon had shouted "Lorentz Force" and then there was a change in the air. "What's happening to my body!?" shouted Raiden. "Hey I think it's workin' Monsoon!" The man gave a smug grin. "Of course. Soon I shall orchestrate my utopia of death!"

It seemed the force was perhaps too strong. The next thing they knew, Raiden became stuck to Sam's body. "Did ya mean for this ta happen too er..?" Monsoon took the box, threw it on the ground and started to repeatedly stab it with dystopia. "I didn't know how much you liked me blondie?" Raiden wanted to scream. "I don't, it's this stupid body. Something must be wrong with it. DOKTER!"

Suddenly a holographic image of a German man popped up. "Ah, Raiden, what zeems to be de problem-" He took one look and then blushed. "Oh my, I zeppos I haught you at a bad time yah..." He then promptly ended the transmission. "DAMN IT!" Sam chuckled. "Is it really so bad being this close to me?"

"YES! NOW HELP ME! THERE ARE TWO PEOPLE OVER THERE AND I DON'T WANT THEM TAKING PICTURES!" Sam sighed. "And just when I was starting to have fun. Alright. What do you want me to do?" Raiden then explained that they should be able to change the polarity if Sam turned around. "Hopefully this should fix everything. Now get moving before I die of embarrassment!"

Somehow Sam had managed to turn around but there was a new problem. They were still stuck together and in a even more compromising position. Specifically it looked like Raiden was giving it to Sam from behind. "Heh. Didn't know you were into this?" Raiden doubted his face could get any redder. "ARGH!!!" Sam then had a thought. "You know I won't be mad if you want to test the merchandise. I can assure you, it is of very high quality."

"OH MY GOD WILL YOU PLEASE JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Raiden was just hoping that something would kill him at this point. "Hey, I know those guys!" Raiden's lone eye went wide open. "YOU WHAT!?" "Yeah, they're my co-workers. Maybe they could help us get unstuck. And perhaps a picture to remember you by?" Jack was close to coming out. "Calm down, I was only kidding." (He wasn't)

"HEEEEEYYYYY, HEEEEEEYYY OVER HERE!" Sundowner scratched his head. "You don't think they're talking to us do you?" Monsoons anger soon washed away once he noticed all the yelling. "I guess we better fix this." They went over and released the two men from the magnetic grip. "Thanks guys. I knew I could count on you. By the way, this is my boyfriend Raiden." Sundowner and Monsoon began to clap. "Congratulations."

Suddenly Raiden was right behind Sam. "And when was I going to be made aware about this?" he said with an icy tone. Sam began to sweat profusely. Next thing he knew, Raiden's eye began to glow red and he took out his blade. "Did I ever introduce you to Jack?" Soon Sam was running away from the mad man known as Jack the ripper.

Sundowner laughed. "All's well that ends well. Speakin' of which, why do I feel like I'm forgetin' somethin"?" Half a second later and Mistral used her whip like Spiderman to hurl herself forward and then flung her foot into Sundowner's crotch. "Mon fucking Dieu! These bitches gay! Good for them!"

[sparklepocalypse]

6, 14, 29 xoxo MJ/kiwiana-writes

Hi @kiwiana-writes!

6. Are there any fics from others you reread all the time?

YES. And I've been sharing them in my Fic Rec Friday posts! There's so much good writing in this fandom, and I am so far behind on reading new fics because I revisit old favorites.

14. If you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?

I think we both know the answer to this one -- it'd be Facing Tempests (AKA KHIX, AKA The Big Giant AU) hands down. Although octoHenry would make some pretty great hentai.

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

Since I only have two active WIPs, and I definitely delete things that I don't end up keeping in published fics... here's an idea that I'll probably never finish, on my Very Long To-Do list:

Prince Henry is secretly a fencing ace who's been competing under the name James Wolfe. Nobody has ever seen his face at a competition. That is... until he goes up against fencer Alex, and the masks come off after a duel.

Ask me more things!

[legolasghosty]

Saw Boggie first and OF COURSE I want to know more about that but then I saw Jem and the Holograms and now I CAN'T DECIDE!!! So whichever you're more excited about? 😁

Please!

Hehe that's so fair! Thank you for the ask!!! Well I have the time so... we can talk a bit about both!

Boggie Roommate Stuffy is the fic that refused to write itself. Like I kid you not, this one shot is over a year and a half old and it's only like 1.1k still. But it's basically a And Then They Were Roommates setup for Bobby and Reggie, where their first introduction to each other was Reggie throwing one of those massive, body pillow sized stuffed animals into their new dorm room and almost bowling Bobby over with it by accident.

If I ever manage to finish the stupid thing, it'll consist of some MeetCute, a healthy serving of Make Reggie A Molina 2K Always, Bobby being angsty before meeting his new roommate, and a bit of flirting just for kicks. But the darn thing won't write. Snippet will be under the cut, since this seems like it's gonna be a long post.

Bobby grabs the pile of shirts he’s slid onto hangers and crosses the obstacle course of his own making to the nearest closet. There are two of them in the small room, one closer to each bed, so Bobby takes the closer one to his selected bed, opens it, and places the hangers on the rod. He just has to keep moving. Give himself time to adapt to the new environment. He doesn’t need his parents anymore. Well, for anything other than the money they are paying for his tuition. Hey, rich, absentee parents have to be good for something, don’t they? He continues hanging up clothes and tries to focus on the positives of his situation. He’s not stuck in that big, empty house anymore. Hopefully his roommate will be interesting, so he’ll have someone to talk to when he wants. And the classes he’s signed up for this quarter sound interesting, though the bio class will probably be hard. Maybe him being away will mean his parents actually notice his absence and call every once in a while. Moving for school is a good thing. It just sucks that he has to do it by himself. Just as he finishes hanging up his clothes in the closet, he hears the sound of someone fumbling with the lock on the door. He turns around just as it swings open and in comes… a giant teddy bear?

Okay! And then we got the Jem and the Holograms AU, which is both my beloved and makes me want to scream. As you may have noticed, I'm not the best at committing to long writing projects, and the Jem and the Holograms AU is uh... certainly a long one. The doc is currently around 10k, consisting of just over the first 2 chapters and a bunch of notes.

But plot wise, it follows the basic plot of the Jem and the Holograms movie from 2015. Julie records a song on a whim and one of her siblings (Luke, her adopted brother, in this case) uploads it and it goes viral. From there, Julie, Luke, Alex, and Reggie (all siblings in this one via a combination of fostering and adoption) get swept up into a whole adventure of being anonymously famous, pulled apart by the head of the record company (Caleb Covington, obviously), while also trying to solve a puzzle Rose left behind before she died.

Tis also a JuBobby fic cause I love them! Bobby is their 'handler' when they get to LA. He and Julie butt heads a LOT at first cause he's pretty short and negative and she wants to believe in the dream. But as time goes on, they become friends and maybeeee start to like each other in a more romantic way as well. Cause why not! Though Bobby may have his own line of family drama that they'll get tangled up in too...

Here's a snippet of when Caleb first shows up!

Stilted conversation greeted her as she entered the living room behind her brothers. The first person she noticed was a tall, dark skinned man standing beside the front door. He had on one of those fitted leather jackets that Reggie had always wanted. A pair of tinted sunglasses hid his eyes. His crossed arms and firm stance told Julie he was probably some kind of security personnel. Though she wasn’t sure why security would be at her house, it wasn’t like anyone other than HGC Records knew who she was. “Ah, you must be Julie Molina,” a new voice said, pulling Julie’s attention to the center of the room. Oh. That was why there was security. Caleb Covington was tall, with dark hair just starting to show some traces of grey. His wide smile felt both welcoming and terrifying, at least to Julie. The dark purple suit jacket and black button up seemed like safer places to look. “Or I suppose I should call you Dahlia,” Caleb continued, chuckling. “Our Dahlia, the new star about to blow the world away.” He held out a hand to Julie and she shook it hesitantly. “Hi, um, Julie is fine,” she managed to say.

I have so much love in my heart for this fic but it's so complicated and long! I wish I had all the writing spoons I had mid covid to work on it, but I just don't have the time these days. Someday though. I hope.

Thanks for asking!!!