#Don't ask me about the logistics of this AU. I don't care

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Six.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - You finally start to appreciate the happiness that having a soulmate brings.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. so much fluff.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5k

Author's Note - the sixth installment!! thank you to everyone who voted in my poll - I listened, and decided to make this chapter as sweet as pie, because I think we all need it. it's nice to have a little break from the angst. just a liiiiittle break though. a tiny one. as always, thank you for all of your love and support and enthusiasm and patience and kindness towards this story. so much love for every one of you. <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

"Are you happy?"

You stretch your feet further into the sand and sit up, wiggling to get comfortable on the picnic blanket.

"That's a big question to start with."

Stella laughs and closes her notebook, deciding to take a different route than originally planned.

"I just mean... be honest with me. I'm not gonna be offended if you say no."

"Do you think I'm gonna say no?"

"Do you always have to answer my questions with questions?"

You tilt your head and watch her, smiling softly.

"I thought this was supposed to be an employee performance review."

"You're not my employee and you know it."

Both of you laugh, the sound whipped away by the sea breeze.

"Then what am I, Stella?" you chuckle.

"You're basically my partner. Come on, we've done all of this together. You helped me build this business from the ground up - I couldn't have done it without you."

You go to protest, so she continues.

"I think you should be. My partner, that is. Obviously there's logistics to work out, but it'd be fifty fifty. You and I, co-owners. It doesn't feel right to me that you're my 'employee'. I'm not your boss. We're equals."

Your mind is running a mile a minute, trying to process what Stella's asking of you. Being her business partner is an opportunity you know is rare and incredibly special - and it could potentially set you up for life - but you can't help but think about the fact it's a big commitment. About home. About Bucky.

"You don't have to answer me right now - I just want you to think about it. We always talked about opening up businesses of our own. I should have asked you to be my partner at the beginning, but honestly... I didn't know if you were gonna stick around. It kinda felt like you had one foot out the door when we started."

You take a deep breath, nodding.

"Yeah. I, uh - I think I did. Don't get me wrong, I was super excited, but the idea of moving away when I felt like I'd just got home was a lot to process. I'd just settled back there, and then I was gonna be packing up all of my stuff again and shipping myself across the country. "

"I didn't realise it was so tough for you, you know. I just assumed you wouldn't mind moving. I mean, you were always up for it, back at school."

"Things changed, after I graduated. I got home, and a couple of things happened and I guess it just... turned everything upside down. Home is different now. In a good way, I think."

"You're different now, too."

You look at her carefully, half attempting to read her mind.

"How do you mean?"

"You're... more grounded. More careful. You think through everything way more than you ever did. Almost like you've realised you're not invincible anymore."

There's a feeling, when you're young, that you're indestructible. Unharmable. Broken bones mend, cuts and bruises heal, hearts and minds forget about their aches if you give them long enough.

Then one day, that feeling is gone. And you realise that you're mortal - made of flesh and blood and bones that will one day be returned to the Earth, whether you like it or not.

Meeting your soulmate is like having that realisation again, but bigger. Again, and again, and again. You don't live for yourself, anymore. You live for them. The pain they'd feel if they lost you is unfathomable, completely unimaginable.

So you become more careful. Less reckless. You drive a little slower, take things a little easier, quit your dangerous hobbies and unhealthy habits. You need to be alive for as long as possible. And you know your soulmate will do the same.

That's how you can tell a Tethered person from an Untethered one. Ask two people to go skydiving with you, and the Tethered one will tell you no. They can't risk it. It's not worth it.

Stella's right. You have realised you're not invincible anymore. You're a little more cautious when you climb ladders, you don't balance precariously on the kitchen counters anymore. You look twice when you cross the street, and don't risk it if there's a car coming and you could maybe get across.

You're also painfully aware that Bucky's older than you. He'll be turning forty in less than two years. Sure, he's not ancient, but it does mean you'll have less time together than Lacie will with Cameron, for example. And that hard truth makes you live a little less recklessly, every single day.

"I guess I just... grew up."

You're honestly not sure why you don't just tell Stella about Bucky. You know she'd understand. But there's a part of you that feels protective over what you have - territorial, even. Your Tethering is sacred, almost, and you feel the primal urge to guard it with your life. To lock it in a box and keep it away from anything that could harm it. The less people that know, the less damage that can be done. Maybe.

"I did too. The world is kinda scary now we're not in that little culinary school bubble, huh?"

"Yeah," you laugh. "We thought that was hard. Little did we know."

"Take your time, thinking about my offer. But just know that I really, really appreciate the fact that you're here. That you believed in me enough to move across the country. It means a lot."

"Of course," you say, reaching across to grab her hand. "I always believed in you, Stella. I always knew you'd do something great."

"We'd."

"Hmm?"

"We'd do something great. The two of us. Together."

"I always knew that we'd do something great," you correct.

You're starting to believe that, as time goes on. You were born to do this. You deserve to live your dreams.

Let the happiness seep through, you'd told yourself.

It finally feels like it is.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"There's a guy here to see you."

Isabel pops her head around the door, grinning at you like she knows something you don't.

"Again?"

She nods, giggling.

"Let me guess... he's hot, tall, brown hair?"

"Bingo."

"Thanks, Isa. I'll be right out. Is it busy out there?"

"It's quieter than it was. There was a pastry rush this morning, but we're good now."

You laugh and hang up your apron, washing your hands quickly before making your way to the café.

You feel like you're having déjà vu, this situation oddly familiar.

Just like Isa said, he's stood waiting with his back to you, broad shoulders filling out his powder blue short sleeve button up.

You're excited to see Rafael again. You've been trying a new cookie recipe for his sister, and you're eager to get him to try it. You're mentally making a note to buy a nice box to put them in when you feel it.

The lights get a little brighter, the colours a little more vibrant. The tightness in your chest eases, allowing you to take a full, deep breath. You can suddenly hear the birds outside singing, melodies drifting through the open doors like a summer breeze.

The man turns around, and it's not Rafael.

It's Bucky.

You're moving before you can even process it, running and jumping into his arms. You inhale, revelling in his familiar scent. He's here. Your happiness has arrived.

"Surprise," he laughs quietly into your ear. "Miss me, honey girl?"

You beam a grin at him, pulling away to look at his handsome face.

"More than you'll ever know."

"Oh, I know. I feel it."

He places a hand over his heart gently, looking at you with pure adoration.

"What are you doing here?"

"It's been a month since your Mom's birthday. A month since I've seen your pretty face. A month too long."

You roll your eyes jokingly, so he continues.

"You don't mind that I'm here, do you? Because I'll go, if it's too much for you. I know me showing up unannounced is a lot to process."

"Don't go," you reply quickly, grabbing his hand. "I want you here, Buck. More than anything."

He leans in and presses his lips to yours, cradling your face in his warm hands. The background of the café melts away, the man in front of you the only thing that matters.

You pull away and smile at him, pressing your forehead into his gently.

"Come back to the kitchen with me. Let's get away from all the noise."

You grab his hand and pull him with you, ignoring the excited giggling from Isabel behind the counter.

Bucky perches against a counter, leaning back to allow you to stand in between his legs. You wrap your arms around his neck and peck his lips, stealing kisses in between giddy smiles.

"I hope you weren't expecting a day full of super exciting adventures. I've got a list full of stuff I've got to get finished by closing."

"Honey, I'm more than content to stay here and watch you work. There's nothing I love more than watching you bake."

You run your fingertips over his face carefully, gently tracing his features as you look at him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I don't care what we do, as long as we're together."

You wrap your arms around his middle, holding him as tightly as you can.

"I feel like I hit the soulmate jackpot," you whisper.

"No one's as lucky as I am," he whispers back. "Now, come on. Let me see you work your magic."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Bucky, it turns out, makes a damn good assistant.

Instead of just watching, he volunteers to help in whatever way he can. You set him onto weighing your ingredients, so you can focus on making and decorating. He takes his job very seriously, measuring down to the precise gram each time. You can't help but grin as you watch him concentrate, determined to get it right.

At lunch time, Isabel brings you both coffee and sandwiches, entering just as you're teaching Bucky how to properly fold in ingredients.

"Sorry, I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"You could never. Isa, this is Bucky. Buck, this is Isabel. Our best waitress."

He holds out his floury hand for her to shake.

"It's nice to meet you, Isabel. I've heard a lot about you."

"You have?"

Her eyes light up as she looks at you, fighting the smile off her face.

"My honey talks about you all the time."

Isabel glances between the two of you, clearly trying to figure things out.

"And you two are..."

"Soulmates," you say at the same time as Bucky does.

Her jaw drops for a moment, before she laughs.

"Yeah. That makes a lot of sense, actually."

You roll your eyes at her lovingly before Stella's voice calls her name from out front.

"I better go. But me and you are gonna talk about this later."

"Fine," you laugh.

"Nice to meet you!" Bucky shouts after her, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I like that we're just telling people now."

"Yeah, me too, actually. I thought it'd be scary, but... it feels right."

He slings an arm around your middle, pulling you into his side.

"We've still got the two most important people left to tell."

Your muscles tense and Bucky feels it instantly, running his thumb in patterns over your hip gently.

"I've been thinking about it a lot. I'm almost ready, Buck. We can't avoid it forever. Next time I'm home, I think we should do it. We should tell them."

Bucky hooks two fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Are you sure? Once we tell them, we can't undo it. We'll only do it if you're one hundred percent sure."

"I'll be ready when the time comes. It'll be a huge weight off of both of our shoulders, which I think we both need."

"Okay then," he says, kissing your forehead. "Next time you're home."

Isabel clears her throat from the doorway, smiling sheepishly.

"I can't believe I'm saying this again, but... there's a guy here to see you."

You laugh, untangling yourself from Bucky with a kiss to his cheek.

"Send him through. Thanks, Isa."

The man you were originally expecting to see this morning walks into the kitchen, envelopes in his hand.

"Hey!"

"Hey, Rafael."

He gives you a quick hug, before waving at Bucky.

"Hey, man. You've gotta be the soulmate, right?"

Bucky chuckles, coming over to shake Raf's hand.

"Yeah, that's me. How'd you know?"

"Are you kidding? You can feel it the minute you walk into the room. There's like, electricity in here."

You laugh, hiking yourself up to sit on the counter. Bucky stands next to you, arms crossed over his broad chest.

"Here," Rafael says, handing you an envelope. "We're having a gala next month, for the charity that has supported my sister. We'd love it if you could come - and bring your date too, of course."

"I'd love to," you say as you read the invitation. "Do you need me to bring anything? You know I'll happily make something, if you guys need it."

"You would?"

"Absolutely! I could bring a cake, if you like? I haven't done a proper, three tiered cake in forever. I'd love to."

"That'd be... amazing. Seriously. We just want to raise as much money as possible."

"Of course. Thanks for these, Raf. How is she?"

"She's okay. She's getting a tiny bit stronger every day, and that's all we can really ask for."

You reach a hand out to squeeze his in support.

"You know where I am if you need anything."

"Of course. Thank you, so much. I've gotta run - I've got like a hundred of these invites to deliver. But I'll see you at the weekend?"

"For sure. See you, Raf!"

"Nice to meet you, Bucky."

"You too, man. Take care."

Isa shows Rafael out of the door, winking at you on her way out.

"Damn, he's handsome," Bucky laughs.

"Isn't he?" you giggle. "Nothing on my soulmate though, I'm afraid."

"Shut up," he blushes, leaning in to capture your lips. "You wanna get dinner when you're done here?"

"Yes, please. I'll show you around my new apartment too."

"Can't wait."

There's not an ounce of tension in your muscles as you finish up your bakes for the day, gliding around the kitchen while Bucky stands and watches your every move.

If you could pause time, this would be when you'd do it. You'd be content to live in this moment forever.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The minute Bucky walks through your front door, he inhales deeply. The entire place smells like you, cosy and golden.

"You like it?"

"It's gorgeous, baby. I love the windows."

He makes his way over to your kitchen, where the glass panes run from floor to ceiling. Sitting on the bench pressed against it, he takes in the view, savouring the feeling of the sun on his face.

You sit down on his lap, draping your legs over him and wrapping your arms around his neck. Nuzzling your face into his jaw, you press a kiss to the stubble, resisting the urge to lick the salt off of his skin.

"Come on," you murmur. "Let me show you my bedroom. The sun sets in that direction, so it's always beautiful in there."

You grab his hand and walk him across the apartment, swinging open the door to your room and pushing him inside.

He takes in the space for a moment before turning in your direction, striding over to smash his lips to yours. You tangle your fingers into his shirt and pull him closer, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth with ease.

Bucky leans in to trail kisses down your neck as he slips your shirt over your head, making quick work of unclasping your bra with skilled fingers. He grasps your chest in both hands, massaging gently as he nips at your throat.

"So fucking pretty," he murmurs. "Haven't stopped thinking about you since you left me."

You whine and unbutton his shirt, shrugging it off his shoulders. You're desperate to see more, desperate to feel his skin on yours, desperate to bare every inch of him.

Your fingers make deft work of his belt, sliding it from its loops and throwing it to the ground. You unpop his button and slide down the zipper, pulling his jeans off his legs in no time. You shimmy out of your skirt, leaving you both in your underwear.

The evening sun seeps through the window panes, illuminating the room in hues of orange and gold. The light hits Bucky's skin, making him glow in a halo of love and adoration.

He walks you backwards, wrapping an arm around your back to throw you onto the white sheets of your bed. Crawling over you, he settles in between your legs, pressing gentle kisses from your ankles to your inner thighs.

"The way you look when you come has been burned in my mind," he whispers. "Need to see it again. It's been too long."

He slides your underwear down your legs and wastes no time, diving into you like a man starved. He devours you, tongue never ceasing it's movements. His hands pry your thighs apart, one arm thrown over your stomach to keep you still. When your muscles start to shake, Bucky doubles down on his efforts, lapping and sucking at you like you're his lifesource.

"Oh, Buck, I'm-"

You see stars as you come, white and silver shapes flying through your vision. Bucky never stops, prolonging your release for as long as he can. When you go boneless, he ceases, pressing kisses to the inside of your knee.

"You okay?" he murmurs, moving so his body smothers yours.

"I'm good," you smile, leaning up to kiss him. You groan when you taste yourself, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"Need you, baby. Please, Buck."

"You sure?"

You smile at him, cradling his face in your hands.

"Couldn't be surer."

He dips down to lick into your mouth once more, shucking his boxers off and throwing them across the room. Slipping a condom on, he lines himself up, eyes meeting yours.

"I need you more than I need air to breathe," he murmurs. "You know that, don't you?"

"Buck," you breathe. "I've been going crazy here without you."

He goes to speak, but stops himself, instead leaning down to kiss your forehead.

"I know," you whisper. "I know."

Bucky slides home in one smooth thrust, both of you gasping. One of his hands finds your hip, the other resting against your throat as an anchor. You wrap your legs around his waist, arms snaking around his shoulders.

"Fuck me, please."

"Fuck," he groans. "I'll be replaying that in my head forever."

You chuckle breathlessly, gasping when he draws his hips back and forward again. He sets an even pace - not too fast, not too slow. He has you right where he wants you, both of your bodies in perfect synchronisity. It feels like the stars have aligned. Everything's fallen into place.

Bucky dances his fingers from your hip to your clit, rubbing firm circles. He plays you like a violin, your muscles tensing as you get closer.

"That's it, pretty girl. Fuck, you're so good for me. You close, honey? Gonna come for me again?"

You nod frantically as he picks up his pace, hips colliding with yours. He groans as you tighten around him, head dropping to rest against yours.

"Come for me, honey girl," he whispers. "Please."

Your back arches as you find your release, nails scratching at the skin of Bucky's back. The pain tips him over the edge, spilling inside of you with a deep groan. He collapses on top of you, both of your chests heaving.

"I think we're naturals at that," you chuckle hoarsely.

"You think it's the soulmate thing, or are we just that good?"

"I think we're just that good," you laugh, pushing him off your body so he lands next to you. You link your fingers with his, resting your head on his chest.

"I need a drink."

"I was just thinking that, actually. You wanna go out? Know anywhere?"

"There's a cute little bar that looks out over the cove - it has good food and good cocktails. You wanna go there?"

"I'd go anywhere with you," he affirms, pressing a kiss into your hair.

"I'd kill for a pineapple margarita right now."

Bucky sits up suddenly, bringing you with him, arms wrapped around you.

"Then let's go get my girl a pineapple margarita."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The golden lights adorn the beams of wood above your head, the deck illuminated in the gentle glow. The ocean waves break the shore in a comfortingly repetitive motion, a calming soundtrack to the evening. You sit across from Bucky at your table for two, the sunset casting orange hues across the horizon.

"It's beautiful out here."

"Yeah," you agree, smiling. "The view is pretty good."

Your eyes haven't left his, lost in the sea blue of his irises. He chuckles, running his thumb over the back of your hand where it rests atop the table.

"This is our first date, you know."

"Really?"

"I mean, we've been 'dating' this whole time - but we've never gone out and had dinner like this. Held hands and all."

"You're right. Our first date of many, huh?"

"Our first of countless," he grins, brushing his lips over your knuckles in a gentle kiss.

"Where do my parents think you are?"

"Visiting a cousin in Nevada."

You laugh, and the sound makes Bucky light up, electricity running through his veins.

"You're a scarily good liar."

"To everyone but you."

"I used to think I was a good liar. Until I met you, that is."

Just as he's about to respond, your waitress appears, two pineapple margaritas in hand. She takes your orders and leaves, smiling at you.

"Oh, shit. She forgot to give us straws. I'm gonna grab some - be right back."

You chase her inside, tapping her shoulder gently.

"Excuse me - could I get a couple of straws, please?"

"Of course. Sorry!" she apologises, handing them to you.

"Thank you! Your shirt is so cute, by the way."

"Thanks - it's thrifted! You're gorgeous, girl. And your boyfriend is stupidly hot too. You're a pretty couple."

You thank her and laugh, returning to Bucky with a grin on your face.

"What's got you smiling?"

"The waitress called you my boyfriend."

"Huh. As much as I love the commitment... boyfriend kinda sounds like we're in ninth grade, doesn't it?"

You throw your head back, laughing with your entire being.

"That's what I thought. There's gotta be a better word. Partner? No, that makes us sound forty."

"I am almost forty."

"Oops."

Bucky rolls his eyes, but he can't wipe the blinding grin from his face. He takes out his phone and snaps a quick picture of you, admiring the way the breeze caresses your face as the setting sun beats down.

"Sneaky," you tease. "Let me see?"

He hands you the phone, letting you look through. You swipe right one too many times, and accidentally land on a picture of a blueprint laid out across a kitchen counter. His kitchen counter.

"Babe... what's this?"

You don't miss the way Bucky's cheeks heat up, blush creeping across his chest that's exposed by the V neckline of his blue button up. He stutters for a moment, before finding his footing.

"They're blueprints. Plans for a house."

"A house?"

"I want to build a house."

When you keep looking at him softly, he doubles down.

"I want to build a house for us."

Your breath hitches in your chest, the world going silent momentarily.

"You... you do?"

"My Dad worked in construction my entire childhood. I watched him build houses, apartment buildings, bungalows... everything. I've always wanted to do it, but never had reason to. Until now."

You squeeze his hand, urging him to continue.

"I've been planning it for upwards of ten years. But I'm taking it more seriously, now. Those blueprints are the final ones. It's all mapped out, down to the square inch. I've made some modifications for you, obviously."

He zooms in on the picture, pointing out areas on the plans.

"I've added a big island in the kitchen with a tonne of storage in it, for all of your supplies. I know you have that huge mixer, so I've made sure there's enough space for it to fit underneath with the doors closed."

You take a deep breath, lump in your throat forming unwillingly.

"Up here, there's a window at the top of the stairs. I've added a sketch of a bench which I'll upholster, so you can sit and read in the sunlight."

Tangling your legs with his under the table, you urge him to continue.

"I've also made sure there's a balcony off the master bedroom that overlooks the garden. I know how much you love sitting on yours in your apartment at home. There's probably like a hundred more little modifications for you, but those are just a few."

Tears are running down your cheeks freely, emotion escaping you like a flash flood.

"Bucky..."

"If it's too much too soon, please tell me. I won't be offended, baby. I know it's a lot."

"It's perfect."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You jump up from your seat and around the table, throwing yourself into his lap to kiss him happily.

"I can't wait to build a house with you, Buck."

He grins at you, joy radiating off him in waves.

"Buck?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

He blinks back tears for a second, processing the words he's been waiting to hear for what feels like an eternity.

"I love you too, honey girl. My pretty baby."

He leans in to kiss you tenderly, the rest of the world melting away. It feels like it's just the two of you, floating on cloud nine.

Suddenly, you get it. You understand why people say this is the greatest thing that'll ever happen.

It is. They were right all along.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

After several pineapple flavoured cocktails and a taco or four, you and Bucky take a slow stroll home, hand in hand along the sidewalk.

"You wanna have a sleepover tonight?" you ask, digging your heels into the ground to stop yourself from skipping with glee.

"Can't think of anything I want more," he chuckles.

You walk a little while longer, content to bask in the comfortable silence.

"Guess what happened a few days ago."

"What, honey?"

"Stella asked me to be her business partner."

He stops where he is, turning to face you but never letting go of your hand.

"Wait, really?"

"Mhmmm."

"And how do you feel about that?"

"I was unsure, at first. But I'm going to do it. I've been thinking about this for a while, actually. We had to take a business class in culinary school, and I actually learned a lot. I've had a business plan for the future of the café drafted up for months. Numbers, locations, investors, everything. I'm really serious about this, you know."

He's gazing at you like you hung the moon, eyes bright and adoring.

You sit down on a bench, looking out over the coastal path. Bucky joins you, arm heavy over your shoulders.

"I can't stay here."

His head whips around.

"Baby..."

"I mean it, Buck. I like this city, I do, but I just can't settle. It feels like a placeholder until I can go home. And it's not fair to Stella, if it feels like I'm half in half out."

He goes to speak, but you're on a roll.

"I'm suggesting that we franchise the business. It's the logical next step anyway, it was just a matter of choosing the right location. I'm proposing somewhere a hell of a lot closer to home. To you. To my parents. And that means we'll have one branch on the east coast, and one on the west. We can start filling the middle, in the future."

"Are you... are you sure?"

"I've never been surer of anything, James Buchanan Barnes. I wanna start my life with you. Telling my parents, building a house, furthering my career. I'm ready, now."

Bucky grabs your face in his warm hands, kissing you with more passion than you ever thought possible. It's all the answer you need.

"I want you to read over my plan, when we get back to my place. But it's tight, Buck. I've been perfecting it for months. There's no way Stella can say no - I've made it so she won't want to. Besides, she just wants me to be happy. And this... this will make me happy. Happy beyond words."

Bucky stands up, wrapping his arms around your middle to bring you with him. He spins you around, laughing when you squeal in surprise.

"I'm so proud of you, honey baby. I love you so much."

"I love you," you grin. "More than I ever thought possible."

Bucky practically carries you home, both of you giddy on excitement and hope.

You wake up tangled in his arms, sunlight beaming down onto your skin through the open window. Happiness, you think. It's finally here.

Happiness. It's finally here.

tag list part one -

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[razzzar]

Tf2 dragon au time! I've had these guys in my brain for years and I finally decided to update them. So ask me anything and enjoy!

(please dont ask about the Sydney Sleeper would logistically work. Please I don't want to this about the biological implications of that modification.)

Despite his wings, Scout can't actually fly. He never learnt how to and can't get more than a flap or two in before losing coordination.

Soldier here works nearly identically to his human counterpart. Though he lacks the shotguns.

Surprisingly in this universe it's common for dragons to lack or have very rudamentary flame sacs. Course, Demo here has no need for spitting out hot rocks like the others, not when he's got his bombs.

Medic used to be a student of Merasmus, Studying healing and black magic. He doesn't care about beating up his old mentor every year though

Spy was a damn nightmare to design and incorporate gameplay designs into. His mimic ability is akin to that of an octopus or cuttlefish, changing colours and contorting himself to copy the shape of his target. The disguises are terrible and yet they still work for just long enough to get in striking distance.

#tf2 #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 demoman #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #myart #tf2 dragon au

[buckets-and-trees]

Meat Cute

Fandom: MCU Collection: Trader James Title: Meat Cute Characters/Pairings: future Bucky x female!Reader, Peter Parker Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: Modern, non-powered AU. A girl and her love for Trader Joe's... You never know what kind of new and exciting finds you'll come across in a Trader Joe's or what you'll get to take home with you, and that's part of the fun of shopping here over other stores - you get your standard stuff, and then there's always something surprising.

Content Warnings: fluff; a ridiculous amount of Trader Joe's nerdery; also, if you're a vegetarian, you may want to steer clear, because this Bucky is BEEFY

Logistical Notes: Second tick for my Bingo Card for @the-slumberparty's August/September Challenge knocking out B3: "Collar." Don't get excited over it being that kind of collar. It's not. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Additional Notes: LET'S BE REAL: although it was a surprise to me when I hatched the idea last week, IT WAS ONLY A MATTER OF TIME BEFORE ASPEN CREATED A TRADER JOE'S AU. None of you are shocked. I know you're not. Also, this launch of the AU is dedicated to my wifey for her birthday, one of the most wonderful friends who just adopted me, and I couldn't love her more fiercely for it.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You smiled as you put your car into park in the decently close-to-the-store stall. Hands gripping the wheel still, you took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and just exhaled.

You were in your place.

This was familiar.

And you were hungry and had an empty fridge, freezer, and cupboards that all needed filling.

Actually, you were starving.

This was one of the few times it would not be to your detriment to do your grocery shopping on an empty stomach. You needed everything!

You hopped out of your car, and walked up to the sliding glass doors beneath the familiar red and white lettering that indicated you were in the familiar territory of Trader Joe’s. You grabbed a grocery cart and walked inside. Flanked right away at the entry by the displays of fresh flowers on one side and houseplants on the other, you looked but didn’t touch this time. You had a lot of other things to take care of before you needed to worry about plants or flowers in your new place. Although it was different than your old Trader Joe’s, you knew it would unfold similarly in the layout to you were used to here as well, starting by funneling you right into the fresh produce section, and you tossed some of your leafy green staples into the cart, along with tomatoes, corn, a sack of potatoes, oranges, and some cherries since they were in season. Next you grabbed a loaf of the sliced brioche, and then couldn’t resist the small package of brookie bars. They would heat up beautifully in your air fryer when you needed little treats to reward yourself this weekend.

Guacamole, hummus, a package of the fresh ravioli with corn and burrata, then into the fresh meat section. You picked up some of the boneless, skinless, fresh Atlantic salmon as well as … no. You had to stock your entire kitchen. You’d grab more fresh meat next weekend. You were already going to do enough damage with today’s grocery bill. So you moved on to the eggs, opening the carton and doing the visual check first for cracks on the tops of the shells, then quickly bumping each egg gently in its spot to check that it moved freely – it was a trick your grandma had taught you: if the eggs had cracked on the bottom, they would ooze, making them stick to their spots. All twelve checked out.

You continued your circle around the perimeter of the store through the dairy for sour cream and Greek yogurt, then into the cheeses. You bit your bottom lip. What to spoil yourself with this time… You went with a hunk of Toscano soaked in Syrah and took a chance on a strawberry white stilton cheese. The sticker on the red, wax-covered hunk of cheese said it paired well with pomegranate. You would need to get some proper crackers. That or head back to the bread aisle. But the breads were right next to the bakery items, and you probably deserved to get some of the brookie bars.

You didn’t go down every aisle, but almost, and by the time you made your way to the check-out lines, your cart was respectably and entirely full. The area at the front of the store was bustling and crowded as shoppers ushered themselves into lines. It was the kind of crowd to be expected in the late afternoon on a Saturday, so you didn’t fuss about the lines, just chose the relatively shortest option, and then pulled out your phone to entertain and distract yourself while you waited through the customer currently checking out and one cart ahead of you.

As they wrapped up business and it was almost your turn, you sent a quick text to your mom, snapping a quick under the radar photo of the checkout area and your very full basket, letting her know you had wrapped up and were clocking in your first visit at your new home Trader Joe’s. She reacted almost immediately with the heart emoji and said she was glad you were settling in. You smiled, knowing this move was hard for her – she was happy for your career leap, but devastated to have her girl out of state.

You slipped your phone into your pocket quickly as you pushed your cart right up to the checkout counter, the cashier reaching out for the end of the basket to assist you.

“Hey, how’s your day been so far?” they asked as you stepped past the register to the customer arm rest where you could see each other.

“Oh, not too bad,” you responded habitually. You were ready for the robustly friendly interaction your cashier and possibly the bagger would give you. It was one of the reasons you had still wanted to make your first grocery run rather than order or pick up dinner – you wanted that small moment of human connection. Although it was customer service stranger to stranger, Trader Joe’s employees knew the culture was to try and make that customer service a moment of genuine connection, to let each customer know they were seen and appreciated.

But what you were not ready for was looking up into the eyes of a towering, excessively broad shouldered man, whose chest and arms were fit to burst out of his navy blue Trader Joe’s crew t-shirt, hair pulled back into a man bun with a few strands tucked behind his ear, a soft smile, and steel blue eyes that when you locked onto each other shot right into your soul.

No, you were decidedly not ready for that, and your stomach and chest flared very suddenly with violent butterflies.

“Did you find everything you needed today?” he continued after a small beat.

In that next split second, you reminded yourself to breathe, and blinked to try and reset your brain. This was fine. You glanced back at the basket, then let out a small laugh. “Probably more than I needed! I don’t think I could fit anything else in the cart.”

“No, I guess not,” he assessed as he looked back to the basket, grabbing the yellow bell peppers with a warm laugh of his own and then keying in their code. “But it looks like you pulled a good haul.”

“I’m going to double bag your groceries,” the younger man standing next to your stupidly handsome cashier said, drawing your attention. “That should do you.”

“Oh, perfect, thank you,” you said. The nametag on his chest read Peter.

“Sure, no problem,” he said. This brunet was nowhere near as big as the man next to him, but stood at average height and average build, and you were glad not to have him to tamper this down to a much more normal encounter. You guessed the younger man was somewhere between twenty and twenty-five, with one of those youthful, open, friendly faces, and a manner that could clearly cheer and put anyone at ease.

“Any plans for tonight,” your cashier asked, drawing your attention back to him.

“Oh, I hope not,” you immediately spat out.

There was a lightning-fast exchange of a look between the two men, and you grinned and explained, “I just moved here today for a new job, and I start Monday, so just lots of unpacking and settling in for the rest of the weekend.”

“Oh, that’ll keep you busy. Good thing you’re stocking up on snacks,” he added, holding up the small box of dark chocolate coconut almonds, then scanning it and handing it to Peter. You glanced at his nametag to see the name James, as he continued to grab, scan, and hand off the next item and the next.

Peter held up the small tub of body butter with its magenta lid. “Have you tried this Brazil Nut lotion yet?”

“Yes!” you gushed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do when the summer is over!” It was only due to be a seasonal scent.

“It’s so good! Did you see we have it in bodywash? I picked one up a couple of days ago.”

James huffed a laugh.

“What?” Peter asked. “It does smell amazing, and all the girls love it!”

You grinned even more. “He’s not wrong. It’s a good strategy.”

James rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, too.

“Where’d you move here from?” Peter asked.

You responded with your hometown.

“No way! That’s where my gran used to live!”

You and Peter compared notes over some of your favorite places as he and James continued to efficiently move through your acquisitions. James was attentive to your conversation but didn’t have much to contribute. You guessed he’d never been to your hometown. But when your eyes moved back to him, he was alternating between retrieving and passing the groceries and you.

You also realized you were fidgeting nervously with the collar of your linen button down. You hadn’t dressed up – because you were only going to Trader Joe’s, you weren’t supposed to be bumping into an Adonis – but you were glad you’d at least changed out of the old t-shirt that had gotten you through moving day. This wasn’t fancy, but it least it wasn’t torn and sweaty.

You were still fidgeting with the collar.

Stop, you thought. You’re just buying groceries.

You conscientiously placed both your hands down on the

“Ready for the damage today?” James asked, and you looked into his eyes again, reminding yourself to keep your heart rate steady.

Peter suddenly disappeared from his spot without a word, which seemed strange – to both you and James, it seemed – but then you looked back at each other.

You crossed your fingers. “Give it to me.”

He turned the small display for the customer total to you, and you tilted your chin up a titch, a satisfied smile on your face.

“That’s not awful for a decent kitchen and cupboard stocking.”

“Pretty respectable,” he agreed. “Cash or card?”

“Card,” you replied, and he hit a button on his register, and you saw the card reader down at your waist light up. He didn’t fill the space with any more talk but let you focus on putting the payment through.

The sound of the receipt printing brought you both back. “Looks like it went through,” James said, and waited for it to finish printing, then tugged it away from the receipt printer, and handed it to you.

At that moment, Peter reappeared out of nowhere with a bouquet of sunflowers from the fresh flower section and held them straight out to you. “A little housewarming gift, compliments of me, Bucky, and the spirit of ol’ Joe himself.”

You gasped. “What? Really?”

“Of course!”

“Wait, who’s Bucky?”

“Oh,” James said, rubbing the back of his neck, and you saw just a touch of red on his cheeks. “That’s me. I go by Bucky, not James unless it’s serious.”

Peter pushed the flowers into your hand and took the receipt from Bucky’s hand and tucked it into one of the grocery bags.

“Thank you,” you said, truly touched.

“I hope you have a good weekend,” Bucky’s warm voice melted your heart even more.

“Thanks, you, too.”

“And we’ll see you again soon,” Peter said, pushing the cart out for you to take.

You nodded and then made your way to the exit, setting the flowers to rest in the top basket of the cart, a stupid grin on your face that you didn’t feel a need to wipe away.

After loading the groceries into the back of your vehicle, you pushed the cart into the cart corral, retrieved your flowers, and held them close to your chest. There were a hundred reasons you loved Trader Joe’s – and yes, you had even looked to see if there was one in this town when you were interviewing for the job, and you’re pretty sure it wouldn’t have affected your decision if there hadn’t been one here – but the warmth of the crew that worked there was one of the consistent things people could typically count on. Peter and James – or Bucky – had made your first trip to your new Trader Joe’s just the warm adventure you needed.

As you set the flowers on the passenger seat next to you and buckled in, you were glad though that if this store was like your old Trader Joe’s, the crew seemed to rotate enough in shifts and days – as did your own shopping habits – that you probably wouldn’t see them again, at least not regularly. As much as you wouldn’t mind seeing Peter any time you dropped into the house of Joseph, you didn’t want or need to worry over whether you would bump into that kind and far too attractive cashier or not. That would be too stressful, and Trader Joe’s was your home away from home here as you built the next chapter of your life in this new city.  

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes x y/n #trader james collection #female reader

[pinksilvace]

A few weeks back, I made a comment to the effect of, "Belos views himself as the single human character in a muppets production." It has since then spiraled into an entire AU in my head that refuses to leave me alone. A few weeks back, I made a comment to the effect of, "Belos views himself as the single human character in a muppets production." It has since then spiraled into an entire AU in my head that refuses to leave me alone.

The basic premise:

Caleb and Evelyn found a weekly children's program ("The Boiling Isles") that features puppets; little Philip is featured as the one human, and since the episodes with him do much better than the ones without, he grows up into the role and eventually becomes a big part of the production staff as well

When Caleb and Evelyn die in an accident, Philip inherits the show

Some of the main (puppet) characters are named Luzura, Willow, Amity, and Augustus (you can see where I'm going with this). Philip would be able to stand these puppets on their own BUT

In promotional materials and interviews, he is ALWAYS asked what it's like to "work with" Luzura/Willow/Amity/Gus. Philip is absolutely INFURIATED by this because they're PUPPETS why can't anybody see that they're PUPPETS don't you care about the STAFF or the ARTISTS or the LIGHTING MANAGERS why does everybody pretend that the PUPPETS are REAL PEOPLE and why does HE have to pretend that the PUPPETS are when he responds??? He's convinced that some of the interviewers genuinely believe that the puppets are alive and tries to patiently explain that, no, they are just puppets. The interviewers always refuse to break the immersion.

Expanded AU thoughts are under the cut.

Caleb and Evelyn meet at an arts college. Evelyn is a film student, and the show's prototype is her capstone project. Caleb offers to bring Philip in as an actor and it sticks. Caleb also helps make some of the first puppets.

Little Philip's identity is protected by 1) the presence of a mask, and 2) the stage name "Belos". The name sticks around for his on-screen appearances.

While sticking around the set, Philip learns a lot about the different areas of production. He especially likes building sets, backdrops, props, and puppets, though he finds the writing process interesting as well. When he's old enough to help out with paperwork, he takes over the logistical side of things because tbh both Caleb and Evelyn are helpless when it comes to that

By the time Philip takes over, he's basically the head supervisor of every single department. His management makes the show's popularity explode

Philip is definitely the best at building and controlling puppets. Every now and then, he makes an extra-large "final boss" sort of puppet that only he is physically capable of controlling, and some of them end up in museums

Philip raises Hunter, but he's sort of the neglectful sort. He's ultra-focused on keeping the show his brother put so much thought, effort, and love into alive, and it makes literally any semblance of life he might have had outside of the show suffer

Similarly to Philip, Hunter grows up on set, but not as an actor. The production staff looks after him. When he's old enough, he also becomes a part of the test audience

The production staff is composed of the Emperor's Coven members in canon; i.e. Darius is in charge of lighting and wires, Raine is the sound director, Eberwolf is the lead puppet master, Hettie is the on-site medic, etc.

Luz and Camila are also a part of the test audience. I'm going to pretend that Philip and Camila are good buds in this AU. Philip inserts Luzura into the show as a character based on Luz

Basically most of the ire that Philip has in this AU is directed toward the puppets because they're not REAL why are THEY getting the GLORY can we PLEASE not pretend that these PUPPETS have thoughts and feelings and personalities???

He also doesn't leave because 1) the aforementioned attachment to something Caleb loved so much, and 2) he's put too much effort into this show already and he knows that no replacement could ever be so proficient at his job

Let's be real, Philip's work ethic is super unsustainable, and it DEFINITELY keeps him from grieving properly

When Hunter reveals that he does not, in fact, want to inherit the company that Philip has built, it's CRUSHING to Philip, who feels like giving it up would be disrespecting Caleb's legacy, unaware that he's staring Caleb's legacy in the face

Ideally Philip's arc (which I have hardly described here) would end with wealthy retirement and him being able to say "goodbye Boiling Isles" and never having to appear alongside those godforsaken puppets ever again

#my art #belmup au #mullet caleb mullet caleb mullet caleb #I'll be honest the art was just an excuse to talk about this au but mullet caleb will forever live in my heart #the owl house #toh fanart #caleb wittebane #philip wittebane #emperor belos #toh au #evelyn clawthorne #also yes all of the puppets are left handed :) that was very important to Evelyn #fernart

[loremaster]

BOBA AU - CHAPTER 1 EXTRAS

I had actually drawn a few more things than could fit within the 30-image-per-post limit. Here are the ones that didn't make the cut, with commentary!

(tw: mild animal abuse, n*zi mention, suggestive themes)

Zilch's animal companions. I named Carmina Burana and Tortellini, Gucci and Bosch were named by my friends - though Bosch was supposed to be called Hieronymus, it just didn't fit on the nametag lol

I wanted to illustrate some examples of Zilch casually mistreating/neglecting the animals but this was as far as I got. I don't think he would be a full on animal abuser, just... the type of person who likes having a bunch of pets to show off but doesn't really think about properly caring for them. He likes the aesthetics of animals much more than the logistics.

This was gonna be the chapter cover and I forgot. Oops.

This was just practice drawing the church characters from their sprites.

Zilch: I must say, it's an unexpected pleasure to run into another kindred spirit around here. I'm Zilch~

This scene was actually cut deliberately. I drew it before I decided exactly what the Nun's issue with Zilch would be and then once I did, I felt like it didn't fit anymore. Zilch is still excited to see someone else with ears and tail like him, but in the final version, he's a lot more derisive about it.

I imagine the Nun is, like, an actual animal-human hybrid whereas Zilch is a furry with a wallet that can afford bioengineered bodymods. (One day, my friends... one day...)

Zilch being flippant and Halara being dismissive/tsundere. Couldn't really find a place to put it but I still like the drawing - even if I did accidentally give Zilch human ears.

By the way, you might notice Zilch hasn't been wearing his cap. There are two reasons. One is to show off that his ears aren't actually connected to it. If I had the time to go back and redraw the prologue with him wearing it - so Halara's "holy fuck" reaction makes more sense here - I would. (Not really worth trying to fix though, not until the rest of the story is done.)

But the other reason is that upon looking closer at Zilch's original design, I thought it was a little too evocative of Nazi imagery and wasn't really comfortable with it. It's not really the same style of hat, sure, but combined with the swastikas in his eyes??? yeah no way is that not intentional. (I redesigned his eye symbols to be catlike slit pupils instead.)

I get he (or, the hitman, I guess) is supposed to be a villain, and a minor one, in the original game... but here I'm gonna flesh him out a bit more. So I guess in that sense the removal of the hat symbolizes his growth as a character beyond his terrible awful fascist upbringing lol (more on that in the Gumshoe Gabs soon)

If I were making this an actual game it would be fun to have Yuma get a fun little added gameplay element of using Zilch's Forte like he does with Halara's. He gets some little animal friends!!!

I imagined Zilch would ask to be carried, but Halara won't do it without getting paid an exorbitant amount. And then Zilch forks over the cash on the spot. Yuma screams internally. If he had that the whole time why were they even trying to negotiate over the coat???!? Why does he still have his own debt to pay if Zilch could just cover the whole thing up front????

Halara has to pretend not to be enthusiastic about this opportunity.

Shinigami is... there, I guess.

Martina my wife driving around her little parasite of a boyfriend. Ms Electro please call me

Was originally gonna have Seth say that out loud but then I remembered he doesn't want to lose his job. (It's okay, he loses it anyway.)

(Also yes this is pre-Vivia-DLC.)

And then the mystery is solved!

Zilch feels indebted to Halara for saving him from the Nail Man, and wants to follow their example, turn it around, treat his animals better... his act of goodwill here is extremely performative, though. But, hey, everyone's gotta start somewhere!

Ultimately I cut this scene after coming up with the cat bed idea. (Was very tempted to have Halara cruelly taking the coat from the boy, but just decided to skip it instead.)

So Zilch kinda idolizes Halara now... which is fine... but then the morning after he really lets his simp flag fly.

Congrats on your furry boyfriend, I guess?????

A doodle from the margins of this comic way back when.... which finally has a place to belong! \o/

Zilch's fursona. His "zursona," if you will.

Thanks again for reading! I love everyone's comments in the tags and I'm so glad you all like my version of Zilch especially. Excited to develop him some more in future chapters >:)

#rain code #master detective archives #mdarc #boba au #abcd art #zilch alexander #yuma kokohead #halara nightmare #martina electro #zilara

[hearteyeshayley]

Hey !! How are you ? I hope you're well :)

So I'm kinda new to DC and I really wanna get into Batfamily but I don't know how ? Like, I literally don't understand how Bruce has so many kids but also idc about logistics I just want to consume angsty found family and get obsessed over at least one character and get gender envy yk ?

Okay so basically, do you have any batfam fic recommendations for any1 just getting into batfam ?Or just your fav batfam fics ? I'd really appreciate any recs but if not no sweat !!!

thanks a million for reading and take care !! <3

<3 this is easily my favorite ask I've ever received!

I was the same way with the batfamily for so long, like every time Wayne Family Adventures would trend on Tumblr I'd be like why are there so many black haired boys??? Is one named Dick?

I'd definitely recommend reading Wayne Family Adventures on Webtoon but as for fic recs here are my top 7 batfam fics of all time, plus one wip that's less batfam, more timkon, but simply must be ranked.

Yesterday's Voices by Lemonadegarden... this was the fic that got me really into the fun but heartbreaking family dynamics. Also Tim plays a minor role, but this was the first time I was like, I need to know more about this guy. A quick summary: Batman gets amnesia and doesn't remember the last five years, or the recent death in the family, and the angst hits so hard.

exactly how this grace thing works by irnan... this is by far the best de-aged fic I've ever read. Dick, the oldest sibling, suddenly becomes the youngest and it's such a brilliant character analysis. And I'm always a fan of Dick Grayson getting the love and appreciation he deserves.

The Study of Birds by Maskoftheray… this one focuses on the sibling dynamics, mainly between Tim, Damian, and Dick. It’s hurt/comfort with birdwatching and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since I read it.

Brother Wanted by Vamillepudding... This is an au where a ten year old Tim places an ad in the newspaper for a brother and it's as cute and perfect as it sounds. The Jason and Tim bonding in this is 10/10 and makes all their canon angst that much more devastating

Send to All by Kerosceene... literally funniest fic of all time. I normally hate textfics but this whole story is told through email and it's PERFECT and HILARIOUS 10/10 required reading for batfam vibes at their best

World's Saddest Breakfast Club by motleyfam... this fic includes the whole fam and it's so sweet about it. Jason breaks into the manor and ends up cooking everyone breakfast.

scapegoat by envysparkler... the sibling blame game in this is so real. Basically the family starts blaming Jason for every little thing because Bruce would never get mad at the child he just reconciled with.

And the BONUS timkon fic that's currently being updated

8. buy back the secrets by sundiscus... the only fic I'm subscribed to! It's a TimKon fic but the Tim and Jason conversations in chapter two are so perfectly done. I can't recommend it enough!!

#ao3 #batfam fic #batfamily fic #batman fic rec

[pinkfluffacttuff]

For the ask game: ⏳️ and/or 👶

Thanks for the ask! ^^

"⏳If you could go back in time and tell your younger writer self something, what would it be?"

Oof, childhood. Baby Me was hypercritical of everything I did, something I still struggle with sometimes. If I could drill something useful into my former self, it'd be along the lines of:

"Your first draft is always the worst draft. Every time you look at it and edit, it will get better."

"Don't feel bad for not liking your old work. That's a normal part of growing. You're improving every time you sit down and write."

"👶Fankids: How you do you feel about them? Would your OTP have kids?"

Hmm. I don't know how much I can say without revealing my hand here. I like seeing fan kids in well-crafted stories. I am a bit biased tho. I was exposed to a LOT of babies because of my mom's field of work, and while I never want one, I don't mind writing about the subject. I just have to be in a good headspace for it.

As for the horny vampires: I gave Alu a breeding kink in my AU, and he would 100% be trying if he thought it was possible. He wants a swarm of baby bats. Seras died a virgin and had no siblings. It would all be new territory, but with a lot of love and care, she would give it a shot.

I love thinking about the logistics of a vampire baby. How young do they develop telepathy? Do they drink blood or milk? Do all of their internal organs work, or are some of them dead and useless like their parents'? How fast do they master skills like talking/walking?

Gah, that'd be fun to explore. I'll let my brain marinate in the possibilities. Maybe it'll happen, maybe it won't, we shall see.

-Cheers!

#alucard x seras #aluseras #fanfic questions #fanfic writing #pink thoughts

[theswordwizard]

been thinking about daredevil but on alternia (sorry i think Klingon-esque murder planets are funny) and was stuck on some logistics until i realized it works perfectly if foggy is a tealblood and matt is a purpleblood. sorry this is gonna be catered to the 12 people who care about both daredevil and homestuck:

foggy is a natural lawyer/clerk type - pretty even tempered but wily. my first thought was for him to be a bit lower, maybe brown or so, but that was only when I had to make matt be teal so he could be Lawyer-Class. but in reality matt functions better as a subjugglator (also makes full AUs a lot cleaner because they can pair or be paired up as a legal team legislaterator/subjugglator combo). it gives him a dubiously religious upbringing with the clown church, "highblood rages," and a bit more freedom to kind of do whatever. he would hate subjugglator philosophy but fully twist it to his own standards.

one of the biggest appeals to making alternia AUs is because it asks a very fun question when paired with stories about morality: "what if it was generally agreed upon that murder was at worst just 'kind of a dick move?' while I don't think that matt being strongly anti-murder is necessarily tied to catholicism, I don't think that troll matt would really have a choice in the matter. he doesn't get the choice to hide his abilities to avoid being culled, and in a world where there is no reason for ANYONE to hold back, and he's constantly barraged from every direction by the awful things trolls are doing to each other in a troll city (a la friendsim), he would get into fights constantly with other highbloods, and often in defense of lowerbloods.

and of course those fights and revenges escalate. a lot of mcu matt's backstory can be translated through that - his lusus being killed, maybe having to be off and on the grid, maybe he gets picked up by an older troll who wants to see if he can survive - usually highbloods have huge horns but maybe his were cut down and carved to be better weapons and harder to grab. Serendipity Gospels Terezi/Gamzee lovechild. sorry im insane.

for relationships obviously foggy and matt are moirails (as much as i like mattfoggy romantically the biggest reason theyll never be an OTP for me is because i can't get them out of the quadrant in my head even non-au). everyone else is rotating through hearts/spades/clubs depending on the timeline. but mostly I think its interesting thinking about how interpersonal conflict and his rivalries with elektra/frank would translate into a world where they are all killers as a baseline and social expectation.

#daredevil #hs #there are a billion more layers to this in my head but im trying to get my thoughts written down more in a bid to get used to writing again #enjoy my word dump #homestuck

[knightobreath]

Very unfinished II Homestuck au, species and caste assignments. notes under cut

also for the uninitiated, you can read about the different species on the hs wiki pages and judge from that

TROLLS - HUMANS - CHERUBS - FIRST GUARDIANS - HORRORTERRORS - CARAPACIANS - DENIZENS - CONSORTS - UNDERLINGS - SPRITES - LEPRECHAUNS

I mostly assigned castes based on the color of the characters with a few exceptions. (colorless characters got to be put in spots based on what I think)

s1 all trolls, s2 all humans (except for yin-yang), and s3 is a mixed bag (how fun!)

most assignments were just Vibes honestly. except for the more specific ones

i dont want to classpect SAVE ME FROM THE CLASSPECT DEMONS !!!!!

i think the meta parallel between steve cobs and betty crocker/the condesce is funny. im leaning into it

accidental transgender oops

cherub was an obvious choice for yin-yang (*i take a long drag from my (candy) cigarette* society would be so beautiful if we didnt have the evil alter trope) but I think they wouldn't function like normal cherubs. my obsession with canon compliance (to ii in this case) makes me want to keep them both alive. no one side domination. they are evenly matched and fuse, staying together into adulthood

IK paper would work as a cherub and is more mechanically similar but i have my limits and also I Don't Want To

i'm not quite sure how i want to age everyone. in homestuck all the players were 13-16 and I don't know how it would work without dumb teens playing the apocalypse game. putting a pin in that

the shimmers being horrorterrors (which is the only correct choice within canon species and i am taking no criticisms) makes s2ep14 funnier. the baby you were taking care of is actually the spawn of the elder gods and now you have eldritch horrors at your door asking for their kid back

the floor being a denizen you see my vision. You See It (i have so much logistical work to do here)

I'm going to make a bunch of the side characters carapacians i just didnt feel like listing them all out. Lol. i have 5 million missing assignments

I think all the meeple tech 4s onwards would not use caste colors. is this because i didn't want to deal with it? Maybe. yes

i have nothing to say on the first guardians you can figure that one out yourself. actually no you can ask. but i love being mysterious

You will notice there's no box. that's because of the deep lore and impactful implications of i dont care enough

also @trolling-pip hi (please tell me if you want to be @'d in further au upd8s as well)

#inanimatestuck #<- that's what we're calling it #edit: apparently someone already took that au name but they havent updated it since 2017 MINE NOW #inanimate insanity #osc #knightext

[thebiscuiteternal]

For the writing jam -- AU where NHS becomes the Wen spy? Perhaps by fake-defecting to the Wens during the camp? Also optional but a situation where the Nies roll in ready to end the war and find NHS lounging in his Wen robes like "Da-ge! Don't stab me! I killed WRH already btw" would be deeply satisfying to the gremlin-loving sector of my id.

When he takes ill while helping to clean the kitchens, the guards don't take him to an infirmary, or even a field tent.

They lock him in a cell.

Even as his fever climbs higher and disorientation turns to delirium, he still has enough awareness to figure out what's going on. They're trying to force him to drop the ruse.

Breathing hurts too much to laugh.

He doesn't know how long he's been drifting in and out of consciousness when he's quite literally kicked out of bed and dragged down the hall by his hair.

Who the fu-

Oh.

Wen Chao's pissed. Something good must have happened, to have him throwing this kind of tantrum. And throwing him at a bewildered healer.

"Finally found a use for the useless little shit. Keep him alive."

Gradually, he pieces together what's going on from hearing the healer gossiping with the guards; he's the only "student" left. Everyone else either escaped or is dead.

Part of him is relieved.

Part of him is hurt.

Sure, when he can't even stay conscious for more than a shi at a time, he would have only been dead (ha) weight, he's fully aware of that.

But nevermind the fact that he's now stuck bearing the brunt of Wen Chao's childish rages alone, he's now stuck bearing the entire inner family's ire alone. The thought of what Wen Xu -or, worse, Wen Ruohan- might do in retaliation for everyone else having fled under their noses is...

The dread leaves him shivering even as his overheated, overtaxed body sweats and rejects food. The only sleep he gets is when he blacks out.

Shouldn't... shouldn't the medicine be working by now? The healer uses a tube to force it past his gag reflex every two shichen, and yet he still feels so awful.

'Shouldn't your brother have come for you by now?' asks a voice in the back of his head.

'The others abandoned you because they can't stand you.'

'Your own brother doesn't think you're worth rescuing.'

'You're going to die here because he doesn't care.

Oh... oh, he knows what's going on now.

And the next time the voice begins to murmur in his brain, he gives it the answers he knows it wants to hear.

---

They make a point of making him be quiet and be seen. He is now Wen Ruohan's sole personal servant, always at his side and within his reach.

He is never given anything logistically important to do, but that works out better for him. Without needing to concentrate on any of his tasks, he can use his mind for other things.

Like memorizing everything they so carelessly place in front of him.

Names, faces, lists, maps.

He commits it all, using his constant fear as motivation to grind past the usual lack of interest that fogs his mind when forced to read things like this.

He makes note of all other new servants, like the little torture device inventor that his master likes so much.

Hm.

Something's... there's something about that one in particular, starting with the way gold eyes sharpen when they're introduced, as if in recognition.

They haven't met, he would remember that face...

Nevermind.

He has too much on his plate already, most importantly the necessity of finding a way to send out what he's collected without tipping his hand to his master.

An opportunity arises when reports of Wen outposts being razed to the ground by fierce corpses takes his master's attention for what looks to be the entire day.

He slips out of the main bedroom, notes and diagrams hidden in his robes, and makes his way towards one of the dead drops for which he'd destroyed the discovery report.

He's surprised to find someone already there and stuffing a small package into the gap.

He's even more surprised when they turn around and freeze.

Well, well, well.

Tilting his head slightly, Nie Huaisang looks Meng Yao over and smiles for the first time since he got sick all those months ago. "Hello, Yao-ge," he says, pulling his own notes out. "I think you and I should talk."

---

"They'll be here any moment. We should go."

"You can go if you like. I've been waiting almost three years for this."

"He's going to kill you. He's going to kill both of us."

"He won't," Nie Huaisang replies as he calmly flicks his bloody hair back off his shoulders and primly sits down on the corpse they'd both just finished stabbing.

Repeatedly.

Meng Yao takes a deep breath, looking like he might flee anyway despite his reassurances, but when Nie Huaisang offers a hand, he takes hold of it.

The door to the hall slams open.

"Hello, Da-ge!" Nie Huaisang greets the first of their guests cheerfully.

#mdzs #nie huaisang #jin guangyao #assorted wen cameos #fanfic

[seanconneraille]

Tell me more about this victuuri tag on your last post (◎_◎)

from [this post] that i tagged with #victuuri

Im an uber driver. One time a passenger asked me if I was afraid of picking up a serial killer. I said "what are the odds of 2 serial killers being in one UBER?" He laughed, I laughed, we watched each other through the rear view mirror the rest of the ride.

i usually don't have anything in mind when i tag with a ship it's more ~vibes~ i get that make me think of a ship for a specific interaction but i will try to press my brain juices to developp this one a little.

[i'm finishing this at 1am on a sunday night before work so be warned about possible dumbassery. they go fast (and furious) because i don't wanna spend the next century on it. also very unrealistic things because i don't care also i'm not a serial killer and don't know all the logistics behind it and don't want to know. uwufication of serial killers. i mean, it's me, if it's not a little crackish is it really something made by my brain juices? i do not approve of the killing of real people tho. (putting this here just in case) fictional people is ok (depending who when how).]

so obviously it's an au but i'm gonna keep victor as a figure skater. yuuri had to stop figure skating just before entering senior competition after an injury and told everybody he didn't want to hear anything about it ever again and found a job as a taxi driver. yuuri is sometimes hired to drive important people around because he's discreet and a safe driver.

one day, yuuri is called to get someone at the airport.

it's victor.

yuuri obviously recognizes him. because he's still very much a victor nikiforov fan. and still very much follows figure skating. but he says nothing and just starts driving after usual work related small talk.

victor is a little bit curious about the very silent japanese man who picked him up from the airport. (he said his name was yuuri). he's so used to be recognized everywhere at this point that someone not reacting to him at all is catching his attention. doesn't hurt that yuuri is also very pretty.

-you don't care about who your clients are don't you? asks victor, a finger on his mouth.

-why should i? (yuuri's grip on the wheel gets a little tighter but that's between him and his car.)

yuuri has a very nice voice, very gentle.

-aren't you afraid of picking up a serial killer?

yuuri startles a little. victor sounded genuinely curious so yuuri keeps his voice casual and goes for a 'joke':

-what are the odds of two serial killers being in one uber?

victor can't help but laugh and is rewarded by yuuri's chuckle. still. that was a little weird. right? victor can't help but get tense. and horny. he stays silent, looking at yuuri.

yuuri starts to get anxious, can't stop looking at the rear view mirror. and every time he does, victor is already looking at him.

-don't you know who i am? asks victor after long minutes of silence.

-i know your name and your job, yuuri's eyes meet victor's before going back to the road, but to say i know who you are is a little bit of a reach.

there's a breath of silence and that's just enough for victor to make a choice.

-would you like to know me better?

victor can already hear yakov from the future screaming in the distance. but should he really care when yuuri says yes with such an intensity in his eyes and voice that it makes victor's body shiver in anticipation.

the rest of the drive is silent, yuuri only focusing on the road but victor can't help smiling looking at yuuri's red ears from his back seat.

~

victor is already opening a bottle of champagne when he hears the soft click of his hotel room locking behind yuuri.

victor smiles at yuuri as he approaches.

-it was an accident the first time you killed someone right?

victor almost drops the bottle.

-how...

victor looks at yuuri. really looks at yuuri. it's still the same man but he's holding himself slightly differently and there's something a little dangerous in his eyes. victor inhales sharply.

-you! it's you!!! right?!

yuuri lowers his head with a shy smile and that's all the confirmation victor needs.

-i've always wondered who it was who copied me so perfectly...and it's you.

victor can't stop the awe in his voice. the smile yuuri directs at him is so bright and full of admiration? understanding?...love? victor feels like crying.

-how did you know?

yuuri shrugs.

-i wasn't sure at first, i just noticed that your skating had changed. you just seemed more free on the ice. and i was curious about the reason so i spent some time researching and then more people died and i just...realized.

victor can't believe this man.

-why did you start doing it too?

-i just wanted to help you. give you an alibi or two.

victor can't help but laugh.

-i-...really??

yuuri just shrugs again.

-what can i say? i'm a fan of all of your work and it would be a shame to put you in a jail.

victor shakes his head in disbelief. this man...

-i guess i'll have to give you a proper thank you then, but come sit and talk with me first.

victor serves them both a cup of champagne while yuuri takes a sit next to him.

-so tell me yuuri, do you like dogs?

-i don't like dogs victor, i love them.

victor is gonna marry him.

~

-i can't believe they still haven't figured out there are two killers, victor says later when they're lying in the bed.

-not my problem, says yuuri before kissing him again.

victor is definitely gonna marry him.

~

yura gets very close to being killed when he gets into yuuri's cab and starts talking shit about victor. he's only saved because he recognizes yuuri and yuuri is too surprised and forgets his rising anger. also yura is young and they become friends. but it's close!

#victuuri #serial killers!au #yuri on ice #saecookie #sean writes stuff #sean answers stuff #long post

[cellsshapedlikestars]

So I have read all your stories at least 3 times. I am so in love with your Jon/Sansa. Are you still taking prompts? I have loved revisisting your one shots. For some reason I am obsessed with time travel AU's (is there something terribly wrong with my psyche? Possibly) I would love a time travel au. Cannonish Jon, Sansa, or both time traveling. I don't even care what point they travel from or to. Extra points for awesome arya/sansa friendship (you are seriously so good at that). Thanks

Dearest anon.

First of all, what a sweet message, I'm so happy you like my stories!

Second: I'm pretty much always taking prompts? I may not fill them right away, but my ask box is always open for a reason. And I will say I do appreciate you sending this. I've been feeling very creatively blocked for a while and haven't written anything at all in about two weeks now, until today. This gave me a good reason to write again, even if I'm not sure how great it turned out. As a warning, I spent all day today around a bunch of children and my brain is fried, so please ignore any plot/spelling/grammar errors.

Third: well, you definitely chose a genre that I am not the biggest fan of lol. Time travel is NOT my thing, unfortunately. I tend to get bogged down in the logistics of how and why, and how it would disrupt history and mess up timelines and I get very overwhelmed. So I hope this works!

.

Since I am now posting my tumblr one shots to ao3, you can read this prompt on ao3, or below the cut.

ephemera - chapter 16: time travel

He knows how this will end.

Sweat trickles down his temple, gathers in the hollow of his throat, sticks his shirt to his back. He can feel the beginnings of fatigue setting in, and yet... and yet Aegon looks worse.

Jon knows how this should end. He knows how this will end, and those are two very different things.

Because there is a gleam in Aegon's eye and Jon knows he has let this go on too long already. Any longer, and he will win. Because he is better. He has always been better.

But bastards are not allowed to be better, and so he changes his stance, opens his guard, and lets Aegon's next thrust hit.

“First blood,” Aegon declares triumphantly, as those gathered to watch applaud him. “Don't look so gloomy, bastard, you held your own better than usual.” Aegon smiles, as though he does not realize Jon threw the match. Maybe he truly thinks he won. The Targaryens are not known for their humility.

And so Jon takes the loss and leaves the courtyard, ignoring the pain lancing from the wound on his arm, the blood seeping into his shirtsleeve and dripping down to his wrist. Rage sits inside of him, but he pushes it down, as he has learned to do. Bastards are not allowed to have anger. They are not allowed much.

He is lucky he has been allowed to live at all these four and twenty years.

He knows he is living on borrowed time. Once father is gone, there will be no more protection for him. Perhaps it will be Aegon. Perhaps Viserys or Daenerys. Perhaps Rhaenys will decide she and her Tyrell husband want the throne, instead. No matter who takes the throne after Rhaegar, Jon will die.

Sometimes he thinks of running away to Essos, or beyond the Wall, but he knows it is pointless. They will track him to the ends of the world. A bastard Targaryen is a dangerous thing.

When he realizes where he is, he blinks and lifts his clean sleeve to wipe the sweat from his brow and stares at the great oak in front of him. The heart tree. He had not even realized he was walking here.

He used to visit the godswood when he was a boy, hoping to feel his mother's gods, but that was in vain. True Northerners do not worship beneath oaks. Or perhaps her gods have forsaken him. Denied him, and the dragon's blood he carries in his veins.

“I did not think southerners looked for their gods in the trees,” a cool voice says from behind him, and Jon turns to see the red witch there. She'd come all the way from Asshai to his father's court.

Jon does not know what to say. The red witch sends unpleasant shivers up his spine. He does not like the way she looks at him.

“You are looking in the wrong place,” she says, hand reaching up to stroke her fingers over the red jewel at her throat. With a secretive smile, she walks past him, towards the oak tree. “I heard you the other day,” she says, glancing over her shoulder at him, still with her lips curled up into a smile. “Your brother had some interesting things to say about me.”

“Half brother,” Jon says, automatically.

“Well, your half brother had some interesting words. As did your father. In fact, all the so called dragons here do not seem to take me very seriously. Except you. You feel my power, do you not?”

Jon still does not know what to say, and so he stays silent, turning to watch her walk - wary, guarded, one hand on his sword hilt. The hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as... something seems to happen. He does not know what. He can see nothing, but he feels it. Like that time lightning had struck a tree near to them while he was out on a hunt. The air had felt different, smelled different. It feels that way now.

“You do not belong here, little dragon-wolf,” she says. “This is no home for you, and I should like to teach your kin a lesson.”

“A lesson?” he asks, hand tightening on his sword hilt.

“A lesson in power,” she says, turning to face him again, eyes blazing, her thin fingers still stroking the jewel at her throat, which begins to glow. “A lesson for them. And for you? Well, you have been wishing to go somewhere – somewhere they cannot follow.”

“How did you-” he starts, but it is too late. She steps forward and, with one hand pressed to the glowing jewel, she touches the fingers of her other hand to his forehead, and everything goes black.

…...

“Rickon!” Sansa calls, hopefully not too loud.

“Calm down,” Arya drawls, following behind. “How much trouble can he get into around a bunch of trees?”

Sansa shoots a glare at her sister over her shoulder, but doesn't stop walking.

“Fair enough,” Arya snorts.

Why did she agree to let her siblings come visit her at work? This is her first job right out of college, and she's going to blow it because Rickon ran off. With her luck, he'll end up burning the ancient godswood down.

The ancient, carefully preserved godswood that is part of the Red Keep Historical Museum, which she just got hired at three weeks ago.

Mom, dad, Arya, and Rickon had all come to Kings Landing for Bran's national chess tournament, and Sansa had agreed to let Arya and Rickon visit her at work so that mom and dad could have some peace while Bran prepared.

Except Rickon is going to get her fired.

“Sansy!” she hears him shout, and she mutters a quick thank the gods to herself as she changes course and follows his voice, towards the largest tree in the godswood – the oak that stands in for the heart tree in lieu of a weirwood.

“Sansy, look!” her little brother says when she finally reaches the tree, his face full of wonder, but Sansa can only stare at what he's pointing to.

A man, sitting propped up at the base of the heart tree. He looks asleep, except for the awkward way his limbs lay.

“Oh gods,” she whispers, moving forward and kneeling down in front of him.

“I found him like this,” Rickon says, like he's trying to defend himself before she can accuse him of mischief. “Why is he dressed so funny?”

Sansa looks at the unconscious man's clothes and Rickon is right, they aren't normal. “He must be one of the actors here,” she says with a frown. Sometimes the museum has events where they hire actors for reenactments, but she hadn't heard of any recently, and besides, this man is dressed so... plainly. A simple tunic, clearly made of unbleached linen and hand-sewn, which impresses her. The breeches are the same. She is not used to such care being put into costumes these days. There is even a sword strapped to his hip that looks disturbingly real.

“Sir?” she asks, reaching a hand out to grip his shoulder and she shakes him slightly. “Are you alright?”

It's then that she notices the tear in the sleeve of his tunic, the way it's stained red, the slice through his upper arm. The sight of the wound makes her stomach roil, but she swallows against the nausea.

“Should we call someone?” Arya asks, and Sansa almost jumps in shock; she'd forgotten all about Arya.

“Maybe-” she starts, but then the man begins to stir. His brows furrow together and he lets out a small groan as his eyes open.

They're a piercing slate grey, and with the way the sun hits them, Sansa could swear she sees purple around the edges. She can feel herself start to blush as he stares at her, and it strikes her then that he's quite handsome. Dark brows and a dark beard, with dark hair pulled into a knot at the back of his head. Long lashes and full lips.

She shakes that thought out of her head.

“Oh good,” she says shakily, “you're awake. Are you alright?”

He blinks at her a few times before moving to stand up, and she backs away as he does, trying not to notice how his clothing strains across his well-muscled shoulders as he moves. He's hurt, and she's a terrible person for getting so distracted.

“I didn't mean to frighten you, my lady,” he says slowly, brows still furrowed as he looks around in confusion.

“My lady?” Arya snorts, and Rickon lets out a gleeful cackle at it. Sansa feels her face go hot.

“You're bleeding,” she says, and the man frowns at her and then looks to where she is pointing, as if he hadn't noticed.

“I did not get a chance to bandage it, before...” he says, still seeming confused. “Where did the red witch go?”

“The who?” Arya asks.

“A witch?” Rickon bounces excitedly and looks around for this mysterious witch.

“I think maybe you've hit your head,” Sansa says. “Do you know your name?”

“I am...” he hesitates, then finally seems to look at her. He takes her in, dragging his eyes from her face and down, down to her feet. If she didn't feel hot and flushed before, she certainly does now. Then he turns to look at Arya and Rickon, face growing ever more clouded with confusion as he does.

“Maybe we should call for an ambulance or something,” Sansa's more sure by the moment that this man has had some sort of terrible accident.

“I am Jaehaerys,” he finally says. “But you may call me Jon.”

“Oof,” Arya winces. “Did your parents pick your name out of a history book? That's child cruelty, I'm pretty sure.”

“History book?” the man – Jon – asks.

“Like the ancient kings and stuff,” Rickon cuts in. “Right Sansa?”

All three turn to her, and Sansa's face still feels hot as she says, “well, yes. There were a few Jaehaerys'. The fourth Targaryen king, Jaehaerys the Wise, as well as the sixteenth Targaryen king. There's also Jaehaerys the Vanished, his story is actually fascinating, though often overlooked. A few others...” she trails off, watching Jon's face harden, his jaw go tight.

“Ancient,” he says. “These kings are ancient to you?”

He looks around once more, at the trees that grow around them, at her and Arya and Rickon, before turning to face the heart tree. “We are in Kings Landing,” he says, though she thinks it's supposed to be a question.

“Yes. In the godswood of the Red Keep Historical Museum...”

There is silence as he stands with his back to her, before he finally turns and asks, “and what year would it be?”

…...

“It's incredible!” Dr. Aemon shakes his head, feet shuffling around his office. “Absolutely incredible.”

Sansa stands back against the wall, watching in horror as the director of the RKHM examines the man she found in the godswood.

She'd sent Arya back to the hotel with Rickon, before going to Dr. Aemon, who had listened to the clearly insane man tell his ridiculous story.

He claims to actually be Jaehaerys the Vanished, the Targaryen bastard prince who disappeared into thin air one day. But those are just tales – tales of magic and red priestesses from Asshai and... and it's all nonsense. This man is clearly having a breakdown of some sort.

Except Dr. Aemon had listened to his story and then set about bandaging the man's wound and then he'd called a doctor friend of his – Samwell Tarly – to come in. Dr. Tarly is an actual doctor, and she watched him take the man's temperature, blood pressure, a vial of blood for testing.

The man himself, Jon, sits and watches it all in fascination. While Dr. Aemon and Dr. Tarly consult with each other in whispers, Sansa watches Jon pick up a stethoscope and frown at it, turning it about in his hands like he's trying to figure out what it is.

“You put it in your ears,” she says, and he looks up at her and her heart stutters inside her chest. “Like this,” she steps forward and gently takes it from his hands, then places the ear pieces into his ears. “It lets you hear things better.”

With that, she presses the stethoscope to his chest and watches his eyes go wide.

“That is my heart,” he says, listening intently, and she nods. Then she picks it up and places it over her own heart - which is a mistake, she decides, when his eyes meet hers and she swears her heart begins to pound furiously.

This close, she notices that he smells... odd. Not terrible, but like sweat and earth and... It takes her a few moments to realize that she can't smell any sort of perfumes on him. No hair product, no deodorant, not even a faint whiff of soap.

He's just homeless, she tells herself. Or he only uses scentless products. Or he injured himself and lost his memory and he's been wandering around for so long that any modern products have worn off. And somehow found an extremely authentic set of period-appropriate clothing and a very real, very sharp sword.

That was what had truly caught Dr. Aemon's attention. The sword. Not a replica, but matching the known swords from the Targaryen dynasty and clearly well-used, the grip molded to fit Jon's hand near-perfectly.

“You haven't asked about getting back,” she tells him, almost accusingly. “For a man who has just been taken from his home by a witch and sent a thousand years into the future.”

“I do not want to go back,” Jon says, meeting her eyes. She cannot look away from his level stare.

“Well,” Dr. Aemon says, and Sansa quickly drops the stethoscope from her frantic heart. “We should figure out what to do with you, I suppose.”

“You can't be serious,” she breathes, turning to look at her boss. No, not her boss. Her boss's boss's boss's boss.

Gods, she's going to be fired. What was she thinking, barging her way straight into the director's office?

“I'm very serious,” Dr. Aemon says, but he doesn't seem upset. “Tarly will run the bloodwork and I've got a contact in the police department who will run fingerprints and... well, I suppose we will see if this young man is telling the truth or not.”

He isn't! Sansa wants to shout. How are Dr. Aemon and Dr. Tarly taking this so seriously? This is madness - this man is not a lost Targaryen bastard prince. Magic doesn't exist. The story of Jaehaerys the Vanished is just that – a story.

“And I suppose a congratulations is in order,” Dr. Aemon says with a smile, turning to look at her. “Ms Stark, you are now head of the very new and very secret JT Project. A terrible name, but I have never been good at those. You can come up with your own if you'd like.”

“But-” she starts, the bottom dropping out of her stomach.

“Obviously no one can know about this project, except for the three of us in this room. And of course, the subject himself,” Dr. Aemon turns to look at Jon.

“This can't be happening,” she whispers to herself, feeling suddenly dizzy.

“I think, while we wait for the test results, a shower and a good meal is in order? Ms Stark, if you and Dr. Tarly could please take our subject to my home, and I must remind you to be discreet about it.” Dr. Aemon begins to write an address on a piece of paper, and Sansa takes it with shaking fingers.

Dr. Aemon makes a shooing motion at her, and Sansa can only nod.

“Follow her and Dr. Tarly, please, Jaehaerys.”

“Jon,” Jon says, mouth tipping down into a frown. He doesn't seem to like the other name very much.

Sansa leaves the room, heading towards the employee break room where she left her purse, and Jon follows, quickening his step to match hers, with Dr. Tarly trailing behind. She has no idea what to say. This cannot be happening.

“My lady,” Jon says, keeping stride next to her, and there's an easy, almost contented smile on his face “What is a shower?”

#jonsa #jonsa fic #cellsshapedlikeasks

[stackthedeck]

Hi you asked for fanfic writing prompts on tiktok and idk if you want anymore (and i also know you haven't posted anuthing with this ship) but! You're the person who got me into Johnny Storm/Peter Parker (This is a great ship and also how dare you get me into another rarepair) so I'm just gonna drop all the ideas ive got that i refuse to write bc I've got to many projects and u can go wild or change stuff idc obviously have fun

Okay this is less of a prompt and more of just an au but i, personally, think that photo journalism Peter Parker should get more importance to the Plots so like. Idk Meet Cute where Peters trying to scope out a villain or smth and Johnny swoops in to save Civillian Peter Parker, ensue identity shenanigans and general vibes

If u want angst ! We got the Negative Zone bb. There's a lot about it already but my au creating self went "hm what if peter and johnny both went in and Trauma BondedTM" so 👍 do i know if this works logistically no i refuse to read the comics about the Negative Zone

Lastly i think this pair is missing some key tropes on its page, such as: Timeloops, aus where they get hit by some type of Power which causes shenanigans, aus in general man idk what it is they're just never leaving the comic universe (Gods Aus? Absolute Classic. Past Lives? Aus where the characters are so far detatched from the source material that theyre basically different people? Cafe worker/regular? Flower shop and tattoo artist? Bro. Drag racer (cars not queens) and mechanic/pit crew/whatever other jobs. Johnny likes cars why dont we have these! !!!)

Anyways in conclusion i wish u luck on your quest for fic prompts and thank u for listening to this ramble 👍 im going to go read the singular time loop fic i found while writing this lol.

Has this been sitting in my ask box for like a month? Yes. Are these prompts so excellent that I just had to write a long fic for it? Yes!! I also refuse to read the negative zone comics because they make me so sad, it's called self-care

I might come back for the rest of these another time, but I just love identity shenanigans so have this 10k spideytorch fic!

Title: one little slip

summary:

Spider-Man is the hero, Peter Parker is the photographer. Their lives don't intersect except for the byline on the Daily Bugle. Until suddenly Spider-Man's best friend Johnny Storm takes an interest in the only photographer that can get a picture of his favorite hero.

Professional hero and shining star of New York City, Johnny Storm could never be interested in plain old Peter. And Spider-Man could never see him as more than just a friend.

tags: Fluff, Pining, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Identity Reveal, Identity Porn, Getting Together, Meet-Cute, Photographer Peter Parker, don't ask me where this is in canon, Peter Parker is a Damsel in Distress, THAT'S A TAG?!, Peter Parker is a Mess

#asks #these are amazing prompts anon thank you for this #my fanfic #spideytorch #johnny storm #peter parker #spiderman #marvel #fanfic

[regenderate-fic]

Out of Order

Fandom: Doctor Who Ships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan/Rose Tyler Characters: Thirteenth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Yasmin Khan Rating: General Series: Eight Nights of DoctorRose (link goes to ao3 page) Word Count: 1,835 Other Tags: Hanukkah, Holidays, Fluff, Bad Wolf as Disability, Rose Stays, Jewish Rose

Read on AO3

Summary: Rose is having a rough day. Ever helpful, the Doctor decides it's time to celebrate one of Rose's favorite holidays.

NOTES: look we're assuming a rose stays au/rose is disabled/she and yaz and thirteen are all in gay love kind of situation here but don't get too worried about the logistics. also the jewish rose headcanon here is something along the lines of "pete is jewish, rose and jackie didn't do much growing up, but she reconnected in the parallel universe." this is also probably the most chaotic of my hanukkah fics but in my defense i have spent the last week at my childhood home and i'm going insane. however the "coat hanger and birthday candle menorah" concept is courtesy of my friend's ex. chag sameach etc

“D’you know where the Doctor went?” Rose was half awake, her head in Yaz's lap.

“No,” Yaz said. “She went out about… half an hour ago? No clue why. Seemed important. I think you were asleep.” 

Rose hummed. 

“What's the last thing you remember?” Yaz asked. 

“Doctor was here,” Rose said. “I was lying like this. Think she was talking about— car repair.” She'd been going in and out of consciousness for most of the day, recovering from a nasty time storm they'd hit the day before. But time was a bit wibbly for her in the aftermath of events like these— the Doctor swore up and down that “wibbly” was, in fact, the technical term— and it was possible that she was in a moment before the Doctor entered, or that she'd be in the moment the Doctor left soon, or just that she'd fallen asleep, like a normal human might. But she was comfortable, and warm, and everything seemed calm, with Yaz’s fingers threading gently through her hair, and so she didn’t care too much about the order of events. The temporal confusion— which the Doctor said was the “slightly more technical” term— could be dangerous, if they were outside the TARDIS, but here it was mostly just a nuisance.

“You’re more or less linear, then,” Yaz said. “You fell asleep partway through the car thing, and then she got all worried about you. Kind of cute, honestly. And then she ran off somewhere. Didn’t really explain why.”

“Right.” Rose closed her eyes again. “You’d think she’d be used to it, after all this time.”

“Used to it?” Yaz asked.

Rose waved a hand. “You know. Me. Being like this. It’s not like I’m going to die.”

“You know that won’t stop her worrying,” Yaz laughed. 

“Yeah.” Rose smiled. “I’m well aware.” She sat up, evaluating her bodily sensation: her head still hurt, but not as much as it had earlier. And she had a concept of “earlier,” which was a good sign. Her muscles were sore, and she was a little dizzy, but all told, she was doing all right. 

Yaz reached over to the nightstand. “Water?” she asked, offering a glass to Rose.

“Thanks.” Rose took a sip. “You come prepared.”

“Tried to get paracetamol too, but the Doctor said it wouldn’t help.”

“Doesn’t usually,” Rose agreed. “It’s part of the whole ‘not quite human’ deal, we think.” She let her head fall on Yaz’s shoulder. “Helps to be in the TARDIS. And to not be alone.”

Yaz wrapped an arm around her waist, but before she could say anything, the door banged open, and the Doctor came in, holding a mess of copper wire in one hand and a bucket in the other. There was the distinct smell of fried food coming from the bucket. Rose frowned.

“Doctor? What—”

“Isn’t it obvious?” the Doctor asked, holding up the wire. “It’s Hanukkah!”

Rose stared. Now she was looking properly, she could see the wire had been twisted into the shape of a menorah, with holders for each candle: it was verging on elegant, actually, even though Rose was pretty sure she recognized the wire from the hangers in the TARDIS’s closets. 

“How do you figure?” she asked.

The Doctor shrugged. “Been a while since we celebrated the last one. And you were having a bad day, and you like Hanukkah, so why not?” She frowned. “Could go land on Earth in December if you’re going for realism.”

“That’s all right,” Rose said, grinning. “If you say it’s Hanukkah, I believe you.” She glanced around her room. “Where are you going to put the menorah?”

The Doctor looked around, silent for a whole three seconds before saying, “Well, that mirror is almost a window.” She nodded to Rose’s vanity, which was covered in equal parts makeup and bits of technology she’d been fiddling with. “Y’know, if you take into account a number of different myths and superstitions.”

“Yeah, I’ll take it,” Rose decided. “Considering we’re already being a bit creative about the date.” 

“Brilliant.” The Doctor carefully moved some of Rose’s makeup to the side so she could set down the menorah. She put the bucket on the floor next to it and pulled out a roll of tinfoil and a pack of— Rose squinted. Were those birthday candles? The Doctor laid out a sheet of tinfoil underneath the menorah and started inserting the candles into the holders.

“Hanukkah’s eight days, isn’t it?” Yaz asked. “Which night is tonight?”

“Well,” the Doctor said, “we’ve got a time machine. There’s no reason we have to do the nights in order. Rose, any preference?”

“Not really,” Rose said. “How many candles d’you want to light?” 

“Oh, if we’re going based on how many candles we want to light, it’s got to be day eight,” the Doctor said, very seriously. 

“All right,” Rose said. “Day eight. Why not?”

The Doctor grinned. “Brilliant.” She glanced at Yaz. “Yaz, you on board?”

“‘Course,” Yaz said. “I’ve had friends invite me round for Hanukkah before.”

“But you haven’t had Hanukkah with the Doctor,” Rose teased. 

“Oi, Hanukkah with me is delightful ,” the Doctor said, pulling her sonic screwdriver out of her pocket.“Right. Rose, d’you remember the words to the blessings? ‘Cause if I’m being honest, I’m coming up blank.”

Rose laughed. “‘Course I remember,” she said. It had been years since she’d celebrated with her family, but she’d gotten deep enough into the routine of it— and celebrated often enough with the Doctor in the time since— that the Hebrew words were engraved in her mind. She started singing, and the Doctor joined in after all, only mixing up the words a little bit. The room was silent, full of potential, as the Doctor lifted her sonic and lit the shamash— and then a yelp from Yaz as the shamash started sending sparks in every direction.

“All right, I don’t remember this from when my friends had me round,” she said. 

Rose started laughing. “Doctor, you know you’re supposed to use one of the normal candles for the shamash.”

The Doctor gave her a look so wounded that she could only laugh harder. “I thought it was a normal one! Could’ve sworn I grabbed the regular box.” 

Rose shook her head. “You’ve got to use that to light all the others now, you know.”

Very carefully, the Doctor reached out to take the shamash between two fingers, holding it away from her body as she touched it to the first candle. As predicted, the candle started sparking, but the Doctor moved on, somehow managing to light each candle without burning herself. She set the shamash back in its holder and moved back to the bed, sprawling herself out next to Rose. 

“You know we have to let those burn for half an hour now,” Rose said, grinning. “At least .”

“You’re not worried about all your stuff catching fire?” Yaz checked. 

“TARDIS has a sprinkler system,” the Doctor said. “Sorry, Rose. I really did think they were the normal ones.”

Rose laughed. “No, this is way better. I never want to do Hanukkah with normal candles again.”

The Doctor sat up. “Really? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure next time I can find candles that’ll give all the flames different shapes.”

“Holding you to that,” Rose said. “In fact, I think we ought to start observing Shabbat. Once a week. Lots of chances for you to show off your candles.”

The Doctor pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Brilliant idea, Rose Tyler. I’ll have to start up a collection.”

Rose laughed. “Now what else is in that bucket of yours?”

“Oh!” The Doctor jumped up again. She picked up the bucket and pulled out a a lump of tinfoil, a jar of applesauce, a dreidel, a little bag of gelt, a bottle of fancy sparkling lemonade, a wooden tray, and a bundle of fabric that turned out to be three very ugly Hanukkah jumpers. “You don’t have to wear the jumpers,” she rushed to say. “It’s just that the TARDIS put them in the cabinet with the gelt and the dreidel, and I figured they looked like fun.”

“Oh, I’m wearing the jumper,” Rose said, grabbing one and holding it up to reveal an alternating dreidel and star of David pattern behind a menorah with actual detachable velcro flames. She pulled it over her head. When she poked her head back out, the Doctor was wearing her own jumper, which was a violent rainbow and read, Come on baby, light my menorah. Rose burst into laughter. “Doctor, did you look at these before you brought them in here?”

The Doctor looked down. “What’s wrong with it?” 

Rose shook her head. “Nothing.” 

“I think it suits you,” Yaz said. She’d gotten away with a garish yellow cardigan, emblazoned with the words Happy Hanukkah and a pattern of menorahs, zigzags, and dreidels. 

“Thank you, Yaz.” The Doctor beamed. “See, Rose, Yaz understands.”

“I’m known for it,” Yaz agreed. 

“And now we can start the party.” The Doctor pulled a layer of tinfoil away from the lump to reveal a healthy pile of latkes. “Made them myself! Didn’t even burn anything.” 

The candles sparked away as the Doctor, Yaz, and Rose continued their little celebration. The Doctor beat everybody at dreidel, and then Yaz insisted she had to stop trying to win and rely on luck like everyone else— at which point Yaz quickly amassed a large pile of gelt. 

Finally, the candles were little more than a pile of wax on the tinfoil underneath the menorah, and Rose was nodding off against Yaz’s shoulder. The Doctor kissed them each on the head before getting up to clear everything off the bed. Everything went back into the bucket, and the Doctor set the bucket next to the door, saying, “Remind me to bring that back to the kitchen tomorrow, yeah?” 

As the Doctor came back over to the bed, Rose reached out an arm, pulling the Doctor close against her side. 

“Thanks for the surprise Hanukkah.”

The Doctor brushed a hand through her hair. “Anytime. Just ask.”

Yaz leaned forward to look at her. “That’s not a surprise, is it?” 

“Suppose not.” The Doctor shrugged. “Don’t ask, then. I’ll work it out.”

“Anyway,” Rose added, “we’ve got seven more non-surprise nights to do.”

Yaz laughed. “Even if the Doctor doesn’t get to light all eight candles?”

“Oh, but I forgot about the sparkler candles,” the Doctor said. “Every night’s way better with those.” 

“Maybe we could visit Earth,” Rose said. “Celebrate on the right days.” 

“All right, then,” the Doctor said. “Second you feel up to it, we go celebrate as many nights of Hanukkah as you want. Could even go back and see the original.”

“Yeah, I’m holding you to that,” Rose replied. She leaned back to lie down, somehow managing to bring both Yaz and the Doctor with her. “Not tonight, though.”

“No,” the Doctor agreed, curling around Rose. “Not tonight.”

#doctor who #my fic #fanfiction #thirteenth doctor #rose tyler #thirteenrose #thirteen x rose #doctorrose #yasmin khan #thasmin #thirteen x yaz #thirteenyazrose #doctor x rose #thirteen x yaz x rose #holidays #eight nights of doctorrose #bad wolf as disability #rose stays #short #jewish rose #fluff

[multi-lefaiye]

happy blorbo blursday!!! i will ask a question i hope u will like

if ur characters were thrown into different saw movies and traps, what are their chances of survival? what traps would they go to?

happy blorbo blursday to you as well!!! oh this is a fun one thank you :3c

so full disclosure i am still, in fact, very new to this franchise, and most of what i know after the first movie has been from me reading the wiki articles about the traps and going "wow that's fucked up" over and over. THAT BEING SAID, i'll talk about two ones i know and think are interesting conceptually and which characters would probably have the best chance. focusing on magic apocalyptica because that's what's rotating in my head the most rn.

putting under the cut, content warnings for descriptions of murder and torture (nothing graphic but still tread lightly!)!!

Bathroom Trap: So the bathroom trap is the one I care about the most and the one I know the most about, so that's probably gonna be. The one I mainly talk about.

Anyway, out of the Magic Apocalyptica cast, the one I can most likely see ending up in this situation is Howl, so for fun I'll throw Jackrabbit in, too, since those two are besties. AU where this is how they meet (actually not too far off from how Jackrabbit got his magic in the first place, but that's not what this is about).

So, a refresher for those who don't know the bathroom trap: the long and short of it is that two people are trapped in a bathroom, chained to separate pipes, and given a time limit to get out. There are clues hidden around the room, but otherwise there's not much to help them. Also, one of them is tasked with killing the other to be set free, and the other is just tasked with surviving and escaping. So, cool.

I think Howl would probably be tasked with killing Jackrabbit, but he wouldn't actually try to do it. He's a scoundrel, but he's not that kind of guy. However, I think he wouldn't saw off his foot or anything either, mainly because he is SO squeamish when it comes to blood. Like he might consider it but he wouldn't do it. Would Jackrabbit do it? Good question. If this is before Jackrabbit loses his arm, then maybe, but who knows! He's more likely to do so than Howl.

Anyway I think that Howl and Jackrabbit would both make it out, if only because I think it's possible that they'd team up and overpower Jigsaw at the first opportunity. They work very well together and they're both crafty motherfuckers, and I can see them finagling a way out.

Shotgun Carousel: Okay so this is the only other trap I've read about in a lot of depth (aside from some of the Nerve Gas House ones but those ones squick me out so <3) and it's one that seems kinda funky and creative to me. So I"ll also do this one.

So for those who don't know this one, the Shotgun Carousel is like. A bunch of people are chained to a carousel thing, and every now and then it stops with one person in front of a loaded shotgun. The only person not attached to the carousel has the opportunity to stop the shotgun from firing at them, but they cannot stop it from firing. It's going to fire the exact number of times needed to kill everyone, and the person outside the carousel can only stop it twice because every time they stop it, they get injured themself.

My first thought was going into the logistics of who would end up here, but the one I think is most likely to get out of this with as few casualties as possible is Gaia. Is this because Gaia and their fucky blood magic could find a loophole? Maybe. But if magic isn't allowed or somehow isn't a factor, I still can see Gaia trying to find a loophole through this. Depending on who's in the carousel at least.

I did just get the mental image of Gaia being given the chance to rescue either some of their coworkers or some of the subjects taken to the New Moon facility. That might be something fucked up to explore in the story.

Who would end up in a Saw trap in general: I just wanted to make a note that I think Prometheus would end up in a Saw trap and I have a vague idea of what would happen to him there and how it would go but I don't know how to express it.

--

Okay so I don't know if I answered this at all the way you wanted me to, but this was an interesting thought exercise! I am very entertained by the mental image of Jackrabbit and Howl teaming up to maul Jigsaw and claw their way out of the bathroom trap, and I also like the idea of Gaia being faced with a horrific, fucked up, painful choice. Probably not gonna do this specifically, and I probably won't even use it as inspiration too much, but I think Gaia should have some tough choices. And I think Prometheus would absolutely piss Jigsaw off and get tested for very personal, petty reasons.

#talk to the bunnykitty #bat time all the time #saw #magic apocalyptica #tbh most of my investment in the saw franchise is in the characters #and by characters i mean adam and then like three or so others #though i will admit. lots of those traps are definitely interesting #fucked up and awful. but interesting #blorbo blursday #even tho it is now friday

[spacedykez]

this is your official excuse to talk about your diy blorbos (OCs) 👍

hi im gonna ramble you good with that? don't care i'm doing it anyways.

so i'm sure you want to hear about my moon kingdom au ocs, which would be the four i talked about in the previous ask: selene, wisp, luna, and liam.

starting off with selene! she's older, haven't given her a definite age but full grey hair. however she's still spry and she's got a mischievous twinkle in her bright-blue eyes (which aren't a natural shade of blue- do i spoil it yes i do they're a soulfire-blue (how many times can pacific use "soulfire-blue" challenge) because anyone who does moon magic enough develops that color in their eyes, which is why pearl and wisp also have blue eyes! selene's natural eye color was blue though. she's aro/ace because I Say So and she's happy to have never fallen in love. she archives books in the library and she loves history.

wisp is an enigma. am i using that right? don't know, don't care. he doesn't really have parents, he just showed up one day. selene basically adopted him. he comes and visits her in the library and she teaches him moon magic! how do i put this- he's nd-coded. he's only about 4-5 in human years and appears that way. wisp was born of the wisps. he didn't get a name, so everyone just called him wisp. the people of dusk adore him and protect him at all costs.

liam you haven't met yet and i don't know if he'll be in magic by moonlight but he works in archiving. he keeps texts and makes sure that history isn't lost (and oh do i have a history for this au). he's very orderly and he doesn't like when things don't go as he expects. shoot i made him nd-coded too.

luna is my sona and she's a bat hybrid (appearance, see this post for info about bat hybrids). she didn't have parents (sigh. two for two with wisp and luna) and of course the bats can't take care of her even though they love her, so she learned to live alone. do not ask me the logistics of how the heck she survived. she ate food from lush caves ok? we just pretend that somehow mobs didn't attack her. haven't thought That much into it okay. anyways she really likes potions and she's very good with them (hyperfixation go brr). she's curious and very smart, and chapter three of magic by moonlight was gonna be gem running away, finding her, and her loredumping because she really likes moon magic! she doesn't do magic (she doesn't know how) so her eyes aren't blue like everyone else's (they're cream: her vision isn't great but she can see with the help of glasses). but i scrapped that plan for the story and we're going in another direction where we will meet a hermit actually (as in a Hermitcraft Hermit)!

and how does she get glasses if she's alone you ask (you didn't ask, i don't care). well, well, well my friend, you see that is due to the help of a Friend she met one day who brought her glasses when xe learned that she couldn't see very well. luna likes to spy on dusk to see how people (...elves?) live, but her Friend is the only person she's ever really Met. who is Friend? ...Take a guess.

(side note i kind of kept Trying to give her a role in the story and accidentally kept making her Varian again and again lol)

#asks #nix tag #the otter splashes