#caboose fic

[silhoutteintheshadows]

POV you haven’t heard from @cosmic-hoboandthehighlander in a few hours 😂❤️

#bobs burgers #ao3 fanfic #honeymoon au #caboose fic #tedmort #lmao

[cosmic-hoboandthehighlander]

20 questions for fic writers

Thanks for tagging me @daddygrandpaandthebeaver yesterday and thanks for the tag today from @babsvibes

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

46, about to be 47

2. What’s your total word count?

236,929

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Bob’s Burgers

I am slowly working on some WWDITS fic as well, but so far nothing has been posted.

I used to write for HP and my work can still be found on ao3.

4. Top 5 fics by kudos

Not counting my co-written fics (because I feel like that doesn’t count since I didn’t write all of it and one of them is a posted RP)

Take a Walk With Me

I Like That Sweater On You

Now I’ve Got It, Do I Want It?

That Over-Hyped Corporate Holiday

Gawky

Just for fun, since all my top fics are HP (I wrote for that fandom longer) I here’s my top Bob’s Burgers fics by kudos!

Wrong

Where You Belong

This Never Happened

Love, Your Sailor

Rainy Day

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to respond to every single one! I really really appreciate the support from the people who read my fics and a lot of them tend to be mutuals here on tumblr, so it’s nice to know that the people I interact with pretty much daily are enjoying what I put out.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Never Wanna Say Goodbye

For how much angst I love to write, I hate unhappy endings. This one is ambiguous, I’d say it’s the angstiest ending, even if it’s not the angstiest fic I’ve written. I think.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Never Too Old for a Bedtime Story

In a Lifetime

Probably. I don’t know, my opinion changes a lot. If you would have asked me months ago, I would have had a different answer. These two have endings that make me happy personally, so I choose these.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Yes. Unfortunately this was common while I was part of the HP fandom and one of the reasons I stopped writing and updating several of my fics. I usually delete the worst ones before they even get posted because I have comment moderation on all of the HP fics left on ao3 now. The people in that fandom seem to be very particular about their fics. I don’t want to start discourse or create drama, but I will say that I realized that, especially after TikTok and the marauders fandom exploded, my fics had to meet some kind of invisible standard in order to be considered “good” (aka atyd standard) and it feels as if readers come to expect your work to read like a published for profit book you can buy at Barnes and Noble. Considering you’re not paying me to write fanfiction and I do it not as a career but as a hobby in my limited free time, I don’t think that’s a very fair expectation.

I have never once gotten a hate comment on a single one of my Bob’s Burgers fics though.

9. Do you write smut?

Yes! As an ace person who is generally sex-repulsed when it comes to their own body, this is mostly how I experience it. I know it’s not always everybody’s favorite thing, so I don’t write it into every fic, but my characters do tend to be very sexual (For personal reasons I don’t want to get into my past, though I do want to make it clear that I am not ace because of it, I don’t want anybody thinking trauma leads to asexuality) but I do enjoy both writing and reading a good smut scene.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Not typically. I can’t never figure out how to do it write. Sometimes I’ll write fic based in the universe of another fandom, but I wouldn’t consider that a crossover.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, back in my HP days my best fandom friend and I co-wrote a series of Snupin fics based on songs from the Lumineers. Another one was an rp from discord that me and my rp partner at the time posted. Other than that, no I have not.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Tedmort

Obviously, since I am the (unofficial) tedmort CEO, what did you expect? 😉

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

The Lupin-Snape Family Shitshow (title not permanent)

There is no real title for this because I affectionally have been calling it that since I started writing back in 2021. I wanted as much written as possible before I began posting to ao3, so that’s 77k already written for this mamma jamma! This is a Snupin fic in which Snape and Lupin became best friends after the war, married other people, and ended up cheating on their partners and falling in love.

I doubt I’ll ever finish it, even though I am still very interested in it and really love what I’ve written so far. Unfortunately, I don’t know how well the fandom would accept it (due to the ships and themes of infidelity) and I do not write for the HP fandom any longer. I haven’t even opened this fic since March 2022.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I write dialogue fairly well. I come up with some good, interesting ideas even if they don’t get posted. Im good at one shots and the one scene sort of thing - I’m a decent short form writer.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I struggle with connecting the dots between scene a lot, which is why I write a lot of one shots and drabbles. Those are the scenes I wanted to write and if I connect them together, I could make an entire story but I struggle with writing the parts that go in between.

Which is also why I have a hard time finishing longer works because I’ll write the “good stuff” first and struggle with making it into a coherent story that makes sense.

Another weakness is my adhd brain losing interest after I’ve posted a few chapters of a fic and then suddenly never feeling motivated to continue again.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

I use google translate because most of the languages I use, I don’t have fandom friends who speak it (to my knowledge?) which can be really tricky and can make things sound off to people who do speak that language.

I can only read, write, and speak in English, unfortunately, so on occasion I’ll write words or phrases into English sentences but not full dialogue.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Twilight, though I only posted one fic in 2009 to Fanfiction.net

Followed by Glee, which is when I actually started writing fanfiction for realsies. Up until that point, I had mostly written original fiction and never posted online.

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

If you asked me before I joined the burger fandom…it would have been this one: That over-hyped Corporate Holiday And this awful crack fic that I still adore, years later for whatever reason: Dicked Down in Divination Feat. Severus Snape

But in all serious, this question was really hard. Maybe this isn’t the best work I’ve ever done and maybe I didn’t take ages to perfect it, but it makes me happy. It’s so sweet and I still adore the idea of mortuary student Mort and Navy sailor Teddy meeting in their twenties.

Love, Your Sailor

I’m not tagging anyone because most of the people I’d tag have already been tagged! But if you weren’t please do this I want to see all of your answers!!

#caboose fic #caboose writes #this was so much fun but took some time! #sorry for those of you who don’t like hp there’s a lot in there cuz I just switched fandoms sorry #long post

[joltning]

“man whatever restoration wasn’t even that g-“

“Don’t feel bad afterwards. I forgive you. I know it’s not your fault. I’m sorry this is happening to you”

#SOB SOB THEY ARE FRIENFS GHEU CARE FOR EACHOYHE RSP MUCH #i Need to read more gen tucker caboose fics they’re brothers to me forever and always #also simmons and caboose moments. underrated duo oh my god #caboose carried this season so hard Omg #rvb #red vs blue #txt #rvb restoration spoilers #rvb19 spoilers #restoration spoilers #rvb spoilers #rvb tucker #tucker rvb #lavernius tucker #rvb caboose #caboose rvb #micheal j caboose

[myketheartista]

"Maybe being needed for something so innocent as comfort could be nice."

-

My good, good friend @tunastime wrote a red vs blue fic that was only fuel to the fire that sent me down my rabbit hole again, so I wanted to doodle something from it to show my appreciation <3 (and eternal excitement. I cannot emphasize how wonderful their writing is and how excited I am that they get to write the favoritest guys!!!)

please go read Restful Dreaming, Mr. Freelancer!! even the dang title gets me...

#enthusiasm at its best #rvb #redvsblue #rvb caboose #rvb wash #rvb washington #michael j caboose #agent washington #rvb fic #once again stating that the characterization and attention to mannerisms and internal dialogue is very very on point and special to me #eating rvb content in 2024 is insane im glad to draw for SOMETHING #using rvb tags again after like 5 years makes me lightheaded aint no way

[theosphobia]

i adore how you draw caboose. love that guy so much

awawaaa thank u so much !! here is him crying as thanks 😁😁 <3

#rvb #red vs blue #caboose rvb #michael j caboose #my art #ask #this was for a fic i wrote hdhsjs #hes sad about his brother </3

[tunastime]

Restful Dreaming, Mr. Freelancer

hi everyone :3 so um. I may have gotten very much into rvb smiles. and you know what happens when I really love something! and when I really love some guys from a something! yeap. here we go again. I just think caboose could be friends with everyone. I'm a caboose enjoyer what can I say. I love him.

Washington follows the Blue Team back to Valhalla, where he tries to get some much needed rest. Emphasis on tries. (3828 words)

When Tucker and Caboose find the unused, fourth room in the base, it’s Tucker that sweeps his arm out and gestures grandly to the room around them. It’s not very large—bed, closet, table, desk, bathroom. Enough space to walk around in—enough blue-white light to make sure nobody goes insane in somewhere so dark. Caboose goes on about how they’re almost neighbors, listing off what they could do being so close, gossip and sleepovers and the like, and Tucker goes on about how that’s nice, Caboose, and sure thing, buddy, and both speak to a Wash that’s not listening. He’s looking over the room, filtering in through a fine layer of yellow, just enough to change the hue from cool to warm, and something settles in the slope of his shoulders. He turns after a beat, folding his arms.

“You’re certain I can stay here?” he asks. Tucker shrugs.

“Yeah, I mean…” he starts, in the way that Tucker always seemed to do when he was on the edge of a decision that ultimately made him uncomfortable. “Just repaying the favor. Plus you’re the only one who really knows how to get Church outta that thing.”

“Epsilon,” Wash corrects. “And it’s a memory unit, not a thing.”

“Sure,” Tucker shrugs. “Whatever.”

“We still don’t know where that thing is,” Wash says, but it’s without any of the usual bored sting he might’ve normally laid on. He can feel the worry in the room like water around the ankles, like it invaded his boots. He steps side to side for a moment, trying to shake the feeling.

“We’ll find it!” Caboose pipes up, nodding several times. “We’ll find Church. I know we will.”

Wash sighs. 

“Yeah,” he says. “I hope so.”

There’s a beat of silence. Wash feels his lungs work against the tight feeling in his shoulders all the way up until the point where Caboose breaks the silence.

“I’m going to go make lunch,” he says. “I’m starving.”

“Good point, Caboose,” Tucker agrees. He turns to Wash as he adds: “You, uh, let us know if you need anything. You’ve got the tour, now, so…”

Wash nods.

“Right,” he manages. “Thanks.”

“Sure thing.”

The silence leftover is mostly full of the sound of air circulating through the room and pulling into his helmet. Washington stands in the room in that long moment, finding his head spinning just enough to rock his balance. He’s not so sure he should even be standing, but Tucker had handed him enough med-kits to keep him running, and his bones felt mostly in place, despite some nasty bruising up his shoulder and back, all the way down his right hip and thigh and knee. He pulls himself from his stuck spot, finally gathering the strength to unlatch his helmet. Both thumbs hook under his chin until it clicks, and he sets it in the armor stand. 

The thing about the armor is that they’re not necessarily supposed to take it off. It does come off, huge chunks of titanium alloy perfectly compressed to fit each wearer, to sit comfortably against layers of computer arrays and magnetic fasteners, bolts and straps and sealers. As soon as he starts pulling, chest pieces and arm braces come loose, and he sheds the exosuit slowly. Underneath is the cool-black bodysuit. That’s the part that really shouldn’t come off. It did, every once in a while, when there was enough time to spend recalibrating, readjusting, resyncing. The suit and all its layers, down to the skin, down to the channel of his spine, from tailbone to nape of neck, aligned with sensors and biocomponents along a fine, white scar to a thick, but equally healed one at the base of his skull, took time to adjust to. That time was precious.

But it didn’t matter with this suit. There was no connection. The suit would simply communicate without having to know, would respond to forces it knew best, and rely on what he had without a physical, grounding connection. He was free of it. The scar and its components would fade from his body. They’d be nothing but a memory.

Carefully, Wash dissects the titanium bodysuit—kevlar—coming apart at the seam, carefully fastened, skin-tight. It’s uncomfortable at first, adjusting to the air of the base, without the suit’s micro-adjustments for temperature and humidity, but he eventually shirks free and places everything in the armor compartment. 

He feels light. He also feels exposed and a little small. He searches for any sort of replacement, sleeping clothes, uniforms, anything plastered with UNSC across the arm or chest or back. When he does find it, he’s quick to pull it on and over his head. The shirt falls crooked across him, pants similarly too large, and he has to wonder what sort of Spartan these were made for, knowing how he certainly wasn’t the smallest soldier he’d met. It’s something, though, and he doubts he’ll be wearing it for very long. In fact, he finds himself tugging it off as soon as he figures out the shower, and douses himself in hot water long enough to get the plastic smell off his skin. 

Without the shadow of the day, his reflection in the mirror takes on a sunken quality. His eyes are dark and tired, lines stretching out underneath them, and the already-pale, now-bony quality of his face does little to hide it. He’s turned all sharp angles all too quickly. But if he’s got anyone to bitch to it would be himself. Well, maybe Caboose and Tucker would listen. But they probably wouldn’t understand. Epsilon might’ve ratted out his bad sleeping habits to Caboose, were he still around to actually see them. But he very well was half the reason they existed, so, touche. 

Besides, now Wash was looking out on a bed that was impossibly too big for him. He pulls back far too many layers of blankets and pushes aside pillows and makes himself a space between it all.

The lights are dim, casting long, fine shadows in the cool light. They dim further to a blackness as he settles, lying back in the few pillows and pulling still-starchy sheets around him. His tired body all but sinks into the mattress, body aching at every joint from overuse, begging to stay and to be comforted. It's there he lies for a moment, adjusting to weight and pressure, air and texture around him. He sighs. It’s the longest exhale in what feels like a very long time. The back of his throat, up through his nose, starts to burn. 

He squeezes his eyes shut. He takes a sharp breath in.

Washington’s hands come up on instinct, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes as he fights back a sound from deep in his chest. It’s hard—it feels so stupid to call this hard, because he could just crack, just for a second. Just for a moment of relief, and—he does, shutting his eyes tight still and willing in a breath through his nose as he turns his face into pillows that he hopes were nobody else's and probably never were and never would be again. Nobody knows he’s alive. Not Command, not Project Freelancer, not the Meta—Maine. Not even Epsilon. For now. The weight off his shoulders was so instant it nearly winded him, on a bed seemingly too large. It was simply him, unshackled, and the blue-white armor in its case, and Caboose, and Tucker. And the base around him was quiet. 

Washington lets his body relax. Sleep comes like a heavy blanket.

His second week’s worth of sleep doesn’t go as well. Tonight, Wash is still awake. It’s not of his own choice—if it were he’d already be asleep, curled into the plush pillows and firm mattress. He stares up at the ceiling. His eyes are dry, and it’s not all that comfortable to blink, actually. He’d prefer to focus on sinking into this nice bed, but he’s having a bit of a hard time. What he means by nice bed is that he’s gotten so used to sleeping on the ground or in the back seat of a moving Warthog or the jet or his cot so folded and unfolded that it stopped being comfortable, or the bunk that was just the right size but not nearly deep enough to fit him without moving, that having actual room to move around is really good. It’s really good, actually, and he’s not sure when the last time he had such a nice sleep was. 

He’s not even sure when he woke up that first day, aside from the fact that it was Caboose waking him up and it was still dark out—or had just gotten that way. Maybe he’d slept that whole day. But he wandered around the Valhalla base instead, swallowing down the ache low in his spine. He mapped the rooms in his head, twisting around the circular hallways. Kitchen, armory, five rooms, garage, a small central living quarters that remained barren and empty, aside from bits of broken computers, radios, and robot parts. The floor still smelled like cleaner, remnant from the UNSC’s thorough cleaning.

Anyway—he’s still awake in his own room. His eyes hurt. He’s looking into the dark grey ceiling and wondering if sleep might crawl its way back to him when there’s a knock on the door. There’s a brief pause before it happens again. He frowns, scrubbing at his eyes as his brain fights the fog settling over it.

“Agent Washington,” a voice says, feigning a whisper through the sliding door. 

“Caboose?” he whispers back, furrowing his eyebrows. Isn’t it late? He looks over to the bedside table, reading the dull red numbers on the clock—yeah. Late. “What are you still doing up?”

He hears Caboose sigh. If he thinks hard enough he can imagine him leaning against the metal frame, cheek pressed against the door, looking about as pathetic as he sounds.

“I can’t sleep,” he says, part tired and almost part sad. 

“Why’s that?”

“I—” Caboose lowers his voice even further. “I had a nightmare.”

Wash blinks slowly, sitting up, eyebrows still furrowed as he frowns. He counts himself lucky that his head isn’t spinning from lying down too much. Sighing, he presses his fingers to his eyes, rubbing the sleep from them, trying to make the blurry room come back into focus.

“You—” he tsks as he words jumble in his brain, hazy with sleep. “Why did you come here?”

“Can I come sleep with you?” Caboose asks, completely ignoring the previous question. Heels of the hands to his eye sockets. Alright. Fine. He waves uselessly at the door, knowing full well Caboose can’t see him. Then it clicks in his brain: response. Right.

When Wash goes to give him an answer, it’s replaced by the sound of his bedroom door sliding open and shut and Caboose wandering in. The muddled dark obscures his silhouette more than usual and the normally wide slope of his shoulders was much more drawn in than Wash was expecting. He’s partially shrouded by his own blanket, wrapped around him as he steps in. 

Wash feels something rolling around in his chest as he watches Caboose shuffle over, like his brain isn’t absorbing the situation properly. He mostly just feels lost. He’s still sitting up, slouched forward, mouth a fine line. His arms pool in his lap, head tilted just so as he observes Caboose in front of him. This is weird, right? Not in a bad way. It’s just weird. 

Caboose stands there, frowning just a little bit, enough to almost be a pout, mostly looking at the bedside and not at Washington.

“I—” Wash starts, trying to protest. Caboose looks up at him for a moment with wide, brown eyes, and Wash feels his chest tighten. He shuts his eyes, sighing out of his nose. Then he pulls the covers back, gesturing vaguely to the space next to him as he lies back down. If there was one thing he’d learned from Caboose, it was that there was no arguing a point once he’d made his mind up. He was as stubborn as he was strong, and the man wasn’t slight. 

There’s a beat of silence as Washington gets comfortable again against the mattress again, feeling Caboose move to his left. He worms around a bit, knee bumping the outside of Wash’s leg, elbows knocking together as Caboose makes more of Wash’s bed his own space. With Caboose’s arm now pinning his own, he clears his throat.

“Caboose,” he says firmly.

“Washington,” Caboose says, like his name holds the same weight as it did so long ago. At least someone’s impressed.

He sighs. Caboose is a heavy, warm weight against his side, and although he clings to his left arm like his life might depend on it, Washington couldn’t necessarily call it bad. 

“You can either get comfortable,” he says slowly. “Or I’m going to ask you to leave.”

“Okay,” Caboose says quickly, wriggling further over. As his head lolls, it falls against the bone of the high of Wash’s shoulder. He ends up curled up in the space Wash’s side leaves open, head on his shoulder and arm over his ribcage. He’s heavy, holding himself and Wash to the mattress as he relaxes. Wash’s arm ends up pinned under him, bendable at the elbow, enough to shift around and find a comfortable spot to rest it. Caboose manages to pull the blankets over them both haphazardly, lying part on him and part over Washington’s torso. He squeezes his eyes shut. Caboose cannot be serious. This can’t be his solution, right? He takes a long breath in. Caboose finally says:

“Thank you, Washington,” in a soft and sleepy voice mostly muffled by his shoulder.

Washington sighs.

“Sure, Caboose,” he says, resigned. “Glad I could help.”

Caboose hums, sounding comfortable. In the time it takes for Caboose to finally knock out, how short of a time that was, Wash finally relaxes. He lets the weight around him settle him on the mattress, tired and heavy, and lets his eyes close. He can’t catch the edge of sleep just yet, but he can lay here, quiet and still, so that Caboose can sleep. He matches the slow rise and fall of Caboose’s shoulders, feeling his muscles slacken as he drifts off. Maybe it’s nice, actually. The weight against his side, pressure to the muscles that ache, warmth and heavy comfort. He can’t remember the last time someone shared the same bed space as him—those bunks were too small to really fall asleep next to somebody in, and sleeping in shifts wasn’t the same as someone sleeping against you. 

He can faintly feel where Caboose’s cheek is crushed against his shoulder, where his arm rests over his chest, hand tucked against his other side. When he looks over, Caboose’s eyes have shut, face relaxed in sleep. There, he leans, pressing his cheek to the top of Caboose’s head, squeezing his eyes shut. Maybe it is nice. Maybe being needed for something so innocent as comfort could be nice. His chest twists, something as painful as it is warm weaseling up next to his lungs. 

It reminds him of Invention. Nobody really wanted to leave York alone after the accident on the training room floor. He could fall or trip, he could miscalculate and hit into something harder than expected. They spent time crammed into the bunk spaces, shoulders to shoulders, to hips, to legs over knees, trying to catch sleep in between missions, how little time that was. Washington found himself in these moments more often than not, and now more than ever it seemed that touch was a thing not often disseminated. But he had it now, and he let himself have it. He let Caboose snore into the hollow of his shoulder and tuned it out as he tried to rest.

In the morning he’ll ask him what bothered him so much that he couldn’t sleep, or why he thought Wash could help. It wasn’t important now. 

For now, he just tries to sleep.

Wash feels heavy. 

He blinks his eyes open, the world coming to in barely-there light and soft blankets. There’s a weight over him, warm and solid. Caboose still sleeps soundly even as Wash shifts to stretch pins and needles from his left arm. The world stays still, held in a quiet balance. In it, Caboose breathes slowly and evenly against his shoulder, torso still haphazardly thrown across Wash’s chest. He’s curled his hand in a loose fist, snagging part of Wash’s shirt. 

Washington sighs. There lingers a heavy, groggy feeling over his mind that he thinks he’ll have a hard time shaking, remnants of running too hard, too fast without stopping. He fought so hard only to again come up empty handed, aside from the now-bitter taste of his freedom. But for now he focuses on this moment. He rests his cheek against the top of Caboose’s head. 

As he does, Caboose hums, waking enough to tense and relax again.

“Good morning, Caboose,” Wash manages tiredly, lying still. Caboose doesn’t move either, except to shift his cheek to a more comfortable position.

“Hello, Washington,” Caboose says, slow and sleep-thick but cheery. “You let me stay!”

Wash huffs out something, maybe a laugh and maybe a sigh.

“You’re surprised?” Wash asks, staring at the ceiling. It takes a minute for Caboose to answer, and in that time, Wash’s eyes shut, too heavy to hold open. Caboose draws his arm back from his chest.

“Tucker’s not very cuddly,” he says, only partially answering the question. “I can’t really judge if people will like it.”

“I take it not many do?” He asks. Caboose shrugs, somewhat stilted, speaking in that long, sighing way that he does.

“It varies.”

Wash hums.

“Right.”

In a beat of silence, Caboose unravels himself. He sits up, swaying a bit, shuffling around. It leaves a cold hollow where he used to lie, and Wash pulls his arm back from where it used to curl around him. He folds his hands over his sternum as Caboose sits up and shifts back.

“How did you sleep!” He asks, leaning forward, arms resting on his knees. Wash nods, finally blinking his eyes open.

“It was fine,” he says slowly. “How did you sleep?”

Caboose shrugs again.

“I slept okay—” he says. “You scared off all my bad dreams I think.”

Wash snorts, furrowing his eyebrows. Caboose blinks down at him with wide eyes. It’s almost catlike, the way he watches over him, like he’s waiting for Wash to reach out and force him to move out of his space. He’s still slightly blurry, courtesy of the sleep in Wash’s eyes.

“I did?” Wash asks. Caboose nods, looking sincere

“Yep.”

Wash looks away, huffing out. Something turns in his chest, warmly at that.

“Well that’s good,” he says. Caboose nods again. He’s just far enough away that in the dim lighting Washington can’t really read his face, but it seems soft and comfortable and Wash tries to remember if that’s a good thing. There’s only so many times you see someone’s face while being out in the field that you sort of just learn reactions based on tone and less on body language. After a beat, Wash says, haltingly, brain trying to find the words:

“Caboose, what… what is it that you had a nightmare about? What—why did you come to me?”

Caboose shrugs, waving his hands back and forth. He’s not looking at him.

“Oh, you know, just about Church and Epsilon, and Tex, and you, and everyone dying and exploding and dying again,” he sighs, shoulders falling, looking distinctly less bothered than Wash expects him to be. It puts something cold-to-cool in the pit of his stomach. “But it’s okay, you’re still here! And nightmares are afraid of you.”

Wash swallows.

“Oh,” he says lamely. It doesn’t feel right, all of a sudden, to just be sitting here. Caboose tilts his head at him.

“Did you have a nightmare, Agent Washington?” he asks, leaning forward a bit. He squints at him. Wash stares back, eyes wide. “You look kinda pale.”

“Um, no,” he says plainly. “No I don’t… normally dream.”

“Oh,” Caboose says. His face drops. “That sounds sad.”

Wash shakes his head.

“It’s fine.”

Caboose hums, tapping his hands on his knees.

“You can tell me if you ever have a nightmare,” he says, smiling, a pleased look crossing his face. “I can come and scare it away.”

Wash snorts, a smile creeping onto his face. He folds his hands together, tracing out the edge of his thumb with his other thumb. He furrows his eyebrows as he looks up at Caboose.

“Are you looking for an excuse to sleep next to someone?” He asks, a curious lilt to his voice. Caboose blinks, eyes falling to his hands. He shrugs.

“No…” he says. Then, “Maybe.”

“Well it…” Wash sighs, shutting his eyes again. “It was nice. Thank you, Caboose.”

“Mhm,” Caboose says sleepily.

There’s a moment of silence. Wash moves to get more comfortable, shifting back to rest his head properly on the pillows. He can feel his body sag as he does, that tired tug pulling on his shoulders and hips and eyes. He drums his fingers against his sternum, watching Caboose. Caboose’s eyes slip shut for a moment as he leans hand against his hand. 

“I’m uh…going to try to get some more sleep,” he finally manages, clearing his throat. Caboose stays still, as if he’s fallen asleep again, shoulders weakly rising and falling as he breathes. “Caboose?”

There’s no answer. Caboose leans sideways as Wash goes to reach for him, folding like he’d lost all his core stability. As he crumples, he falls forward, half onto Wash in front of him, half into the bed itself.

“Caboose,” Wash tries again. Caboose doesn’t move, sinking further into his side.

Wash sighs. Caboose stays, solid and heavy and thrown over his chest. He feels like a little kid again, sharing a room with his sisters, or he feels like it’s some time back in training, both cats making their home on his chest. Caboose was kind of like a cat. If a cat were a dog, were late to the punch, were the same level as unable to catch the joke as he was. It was kind of sweet. Wash shifts him ever so slightly, until he’s leaning into his side again, head against his shoulder.

Caboose yawns, sighing out against his shoulder, shuffling to get comfortable. Wash curls his arm over his back, hand cupping around his shoulder, smoothing his thumb over the seam of his shirt. Caboose makes a little noise, a little sigh, and falls quiet. The world, too, is warm and quiet. Somewhere in that warmth, a soothing feeling washes over him.

Just a little more sleep, he thinks. Then he’ll get up.

#red vs blue #rvb #rvb caboose #agent washington #michael j caboose #rvb wash #rvb washington #rvb fic #fics #text #so for context this takes place in season 9? end of season 8 into 9 #but i'm all the way in the chorus trilogy at this point so >:3 wheheeh #BITING TUMBLR VERY HARD FOR DELETING MY FIRST DRAFT WITH ACTUAL TAGS < they saved it to the wrong blog #whatever here we go again!! i am still scared this time but myke and shepherd are holding my hands so its fine #tunastime is an rvb fan who would've thought wow #spins around so fast and falls over #i can't wait to be insane about myke's art next yippeee :3

[scribbleboxfox]

The Long Road Home has updated!

[LINK TO CHAPTER]

Fic info below the cut.

Chapters: 71/?

Fandom:Red vs. Blue

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Relationships: Agent Carolina/Vanessa Kimball, Dexter Grif/Dick Simmons, Franklin Delano Donut/Frank “Doc” DuFresne, Katie Jensen/Charles Palomo, Siris / Megan, Lavernius Tucker/Agent Washington

Characters: Agent Washington (Red vs. Blue), Agent Carolina (Red vs. Blue), Dick Simmons, Sarge (Red vs. Blue), Franklin Delano Donut, Lopez (Red vs. Blue), Dexter Grif, Frank “Doc” DuFresne, Lavernius Tucker, Michael J. Caboose, All the other AI’s, Vanessa Kimball, Epsilon, Donald Doyle, John Elizabeth Andersmith, Katie Jensen, Antoine Bitters, Charles Palomo, Matthews, Emily Grey, Original Characters, Felix | Isaac Gates, Locus | Samuel Ortez, Siris | Mason Wu, Megan Wu, Four Seven Niner, Malcolm Hargove, Kaikaina Grif | Sister

Additional Tags: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Psychological Trauma, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dissociation, PTSD, Depression, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Panic Attacks, Frisbee Murder (don’t ask), Attempted Murder, Space Battles, Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Platonic Slow-Burn, Mental Instability, Flashbacks, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Healthy Coping Mechanisms, Platonic Relationships, Russian Roulette, Creepy-Ass Villains, Canon-Typical Violence, Major Character Injury, Redemption, So Many Space Dads, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Torture, Found Family, i take the canon and i put it in a box, and then i put that box into another box, then i mail it to myself, and when it arrives, i SMASH IT WITH A HAMMER, Canon Divergence, post s13

Summary: With The Staff of Charon a smoking-yet-functional speck on the horizon, and the threat of an active weapons system on one of Chorus’ moons, the fight is far from over.  While Locus is no longer a threat, another one of Hargrove’s former lackeys waits for the Reds and Blues as they race to stop the weapons system from coming online. Does she really want to help them? Or is she hiding a more sinister motive? And why is she so interested in Locus?!

#rvb #rvb fic #red vs blue #fox art #tlrh #locus #general vanessa kimball #agent washington #agent carolina #michael j caboose #lavernius tucker #sarge #lopez the heavy #dexter grif #dick simmons #frank doc dufresne #franklin delano donut #doctor emily grey #andersmith #palomo #matthews #bitters #jensen #lions and tigers and bears oh my!

[bearbait-adventures]

@meankeene I was your secret santa for @redvsbluesecretsanta I hope you enjoy your very own (very specific) fanfic. Merry Christmas!

Summary:

Church finds out Tucker is trans after he gives birth. Hopefully Church learns to be less of an asshole, and comforts Tucker best he can.

#rvb #red vs blue #bear's fic #lavernius tucker #michael j caboose #leonard l church #rvb secret santa #rvb secret santa 2023

[starshineandbooks]

Bottom of the river (hold my hand) Chapter one

This is my ode to red vs. blue. This show has given me a lot. It's been something my dad liked to do something I liked. It's always going to be in my heart, and one day, I hope that I too, can be a gay robot.

As requested, here is your tag @the-team-sucks

Rating: T

Pairing: Grimmons, Tuckington, Docnut, oc x oc

Summary: Thanks to something Sarge has made in the future, the Sim troopers and their freelancers have to deal with their kids from the future. The kids are split up evenly between the Sim troopers, and the two chorus armies are hopeful about their new recruits.

Warnings: cursing, time travel, Canon divergent, time travel

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know. Not beta we die like Church.

Word count: 3,202

-------

Simmons dosen’t know what to make of the news Kimball wants to share. There has been no progress in retrieving their comrades from the enemy.

He has no clue what the news could even be to call for only him, Grif, Tucker, and Caboose. Are their teammates dead?

He hopes not.

Simmons arrives first, to the surprise of no one. He enters the meeting room and takes a seat. He can wait.

He's used to waiting.

Kimball comes in next, and her armor is polished more than usual. She must be worried about something.

Although in a war, who isn't?

"Simmons," Kimball says curtly.

"Ma'am."

"Where are the others?"

"I don't know."

"They're late."

As if on cue, Caboose comes in, dragging Grif. The blue-clad soilder towers over the man he drags.

Caboose lets go of the orange armored soilder once they're by the meeting table.

"Man, I don't wanna be here." Grif groans loudly as he flops down beside Simmons.

His head is thrown back as he stares at the ceiling for a moment.

"I'm ready to meet santa!" Caboose declares.

"It's too early for this shit." Grif groans lowly.

"It's three in the afternoon," Simmons says with a scandalized look.

"So?"

"Where's Tucker?" Kimbal sighs.

"Who knows. Let's just get this started." Grif flops onto the table.

"Yeah, party!" Caboose cheers.

"No, Caboose, no party." Kimball sighs.

Simmons glances around, trying to find clues for what's going on. He just needs to know. What if it's news that the others are dead?

He just-

Simmons just needs to be prepared for the fallout.

"Can we come out yet?" A voice calls from what might be a closet.

"No." Kimball calls sharply, sounding as if this is the umpteenth time she's answered this question.

"You can't keep us locked in a closet that's really homophobic!" Another voice calls. "Like what the fuck lady?!"

"Please stop yelling." Kimball sighs slowly.

There's some rude grumbling from the closet. And then there's a thud followed quickly by a groan.

"What is this about?" Simmons asks again, trying to keep any petulance from his voice.

"I'll tell you once Tucker arrives."

Tucker comes in, "What's going on, Kimball?"

Grif just mutters something that's likely rude. His gaze lingers on the table.

"Timetravel."

No one can see her face from behind her visor but the tone of voice is so serious you'd think she was announcing a death.

"Fucking what?" Tucker asks.

Because this has to be a joke. The universe loves to fuck with the Sim troopers!

"I hear them all I'm coming out!" Calls the second voice.

"Lani wait!" A third voice urges.

Out of the closet comes a teenage girl with dark shoulder length curls and plenty of attitude. She's got her arms crossed.

She stands out more than the attitude, though. She's dressed in casual clothing. Ripped jeans, a graphic t shirt. She looks - like a true civilian.

"Guys!" The teen- Lani calls behind her sharply.

"Stop yelling we're right here." A teen with long brown hair sighs. His height is almost intimidating, but his easy going nature helps.

He too is dressed in casual clothes. A Spiderman shirt screams his lack of military status.

"Yeah, chill out, Lani." Says the third voice as a dark skinned teen with close cropped hair emerges.

This one too is dressed casual, converse with shitty doodles and a teal plaid flannel.

Holy shit.

These three kids really might be from the future.

"Shut up." Lani snarks immediately, "I don't have to listen to you two."

"I'm older than you." The tall boy grins.

"You'll just go grey first."

"Someone explain what's going on here," Tucker urges, trying his level best to make sense of the teenz.

"Oh, hey dad!" The boy with close cropped hair waves.

"Did you just call Tucker dad?" Simmons gapes from inside his helmet.

"You don't have room to say jack shit papa." Lani levels evenly. Her gaze intense as she turns it to the cyborg.

Grif starts laughing. His body shakes as he looks between the three teenagers. This is too fucking good.

Next, the tall one will claim to be Caboose's kid! That would be really rich.

"Ha! Simmons, you have a kid!" Grif is laughing again

"You do too, dad." Lani levels her gaze to Grif, "Or did you think papa's pale ass had me all alone?"

Tucker gives a snort, "She's got you there, dude."

"Wait- he's your- and I-" Simmons is blushing so hard he short circuits.

"This is going well." The tall teen says.

"Let's start with introductions." Kimball says, "And maybe try not to short circuit captain Simmoms."

"I'll go first. I'm Zach James, my momma is Kitty Caboose-James. Caboose is my uncle. He helped raise me." The tall teen with the long brown hair says.

"I have a nephew!" Caboose gasps, "This is great news! I can be a ghost uncle!"

"Almost." Tucker says, patting Caboose's shoulder.

"How the fuck would he be a ghost uncle?" Grif asks Simmons under his breath.

"I don't know." The maroon soilder sighs, "ignore it."

"I'm Ben Tucker, I don’t know where the others ended up." The boy in plaid gives a half hearted shrug.

"Others?" Grif manages, sounding only the appropriate amount of strangled.

"You're my kid?" Tucker asks.

"Yeah." Ben shrugs. "And we're missing our other friends."

"I'm Lani Grif-Simmons." Lani gives a smirk, "I get my good looks from my auntie Kai."

"Oh fuck, Kai's an aunt?" Tucker asks, the realization follows a dawning horror.

"Go back. Who are the others that you're missing?" Simmons asks.

"Oh. Uh, Aspen, Cassie, and Violet."

"Who are they?" Tucker tilts his head.

"Cassie's my twin." Ben volunteers helpfully.

"Aspen is Carolina's kid. They're pretty chill." Zach shrugs.

"Violet is Doc and Donut's special little princess." Lani shrugs.

"Wait, Doc and Donut hooked up?" Simmons blinks.

"That makes the most sense out of everything." Tucker says. "I guess Wash didn't have kids."

"About that." Ben says.

"No." Tucker says quickly, "He had kids?!"

"Oh my fucking god." Lani groans, "I didn't believe dad when he told me about the dumb ass pining."

"I know." Zach pats her shoulder. He seems unbothered by this.

"Excuse me. There are more of you?" Kimball asks. She sounds annoyed.

"Probably ended up wherever the others are." Simmons speculates, "If you guys are here."

"So there are more captives of the enemy? That's not great." Kimball sighs. "We need to work harder."

"I wouldn't worry about that. Those army people don't have our friends, our friends have them." Ben grins.

"You don't think Vi's going to embrace the violent side, do you?" Lani asks, looking like she hopes the violent side is in fact embraced.

"Who knows." Zach sighs, shaking his head.

"So wait, hang the fuck on. We have kids, who time traveled, and some of those kids are being held captive? What the fuck man?" Grif sounds outraged. Because seriously, what the fuck did they do to the universe?!

"Come on, keep up man." Tucker shakes his head.

"My nephew is a space pirate!" Caboose declares.

"No, Uncle Mikey." Zach says evenly. "I'm a college student."

"How- old are you guys?" Simmons frowns.

"I'm nineteen." Zach shrugs.

"Seventeen." Lani says.

"Eighteen." Ben smiles.

Kimball clears her throat, "These three have generously agreed to help us fight-"

"Absolutely not." Tucker and Simmons snap in unison. Both sounding firm in their words.

"And who's going going to stop us?" Lani challenges. Her crossed arms and challenging gaze mark her as too much personality.

"I am your father, you are not fighting." Simmons says sharply.

"I'm fighting, and you can suck my dick."

"Lani." Zach chides.

"You are grounded!" Simmons snaps.

"You haven't even had me yet. What do you know about parenting?"

"I know I should let my kid fight a war!"

"I'm fighting, papa. And if you try to stop me I'll castrate you."

"Definitely your kid." Simmons says to Grif.

"I know, I'm so proud." Grif pretends to wipe away a tear.

"Yeah, you're not fighting Ben." Tucker crosses his arms.

"I am though. They have my sister that kind of takes precedence over listening."

"See? Ben gets it." Lani pats his shoulder.

"You're not fighting." Grif says, "Simmons is right."

"What the fuck ever." Lani rolls her eyes.

"We'll talk about this later." Tucker says, "all of you. But we have other things to focus on. Like, what are you doing here?"

"How the hell should we know? I was messing with something, and then we're on the floor." Lani throws her hands up in a 'what can you do?' sort of motion.

"Definitely, your kid." Tucker says, looking to Grif and Simmons.

"I know." Grif says, unfamiliar pride wlling in his chest.

"I know." Simmons says, very familiar dread wells up in his chest. What kind of baby could he raise? His own father was so awful... he hopes he isn't like his dad.

"Obvious genetics aside," Zach says, already used to the way the Sim troopers are, thanks to being raised around them. "We should really focus on what happens from here."

"Do we get to talk to our future selves?!" Caboose demands, "I want to know where I lost that Easter egg!"

"Caboose." Tucker says firmly.

"Can we maybe see where we're sleeping?" Zach suggests, "It's been a long day."

"Yes. Your rooms. I've put all three of you in one room."

"What?!" Simmons and Grif demand.

"Well, I don't want them in general population barracks, but they aren't high ranking enough for their own rooms."

"You put out daughter in a room with two boys?!" Grif demands, flashbacks of horror stories in his head.

"Dad, ew." Lani says with a look of pure disgust. "Ben and Zach are like my brothers."

"I know what teen boys are like." Grif scoffs.

"Hey, I promise I raised my kid better." Tucker defends.

"I'm going to fucking scream." Lani says sharply, looking like she very well might hold good on the threat.

"Please don't." Zach says, "Kimball can we go to our room?"

"Yes. Your room is three down from Tucker's."

"I'll show you!" Caboose declares.

"Thanks." Ben says.

"We'll all show you!" Simmons villunteers.

"Jesus fucking chrsit." Lani sets her face in her hands. She wonders what she has to do to get the others back as soon as possible.

"You're just upset that Cassie isn't here." Ben snickers.

"Shut up."

"You miss Cassie."

"I hate you."

Ben and Zach share a look. Neither is bothered. Honestly, they're both amused.

The Sim troopers leave the meeting room, guiding the teens down the halls and towards their room.

Lani trails after the others. Her arms don't uncross, and her gaze lingers everywhere.

When they arrive at the room, she immediately claims one of the top bunks. Sighting that she likes to feel tall.

Simmons leaves as soon as he's seen the room. He doesn't know how to father. What if he makes a mistake? What if he ruins a relationship he should have yet?

Grif just waves grumbling threats to the boy's before leaving.

Tucker pats Ben on the shoulder, "You find me if you need anything."

Caboose says something about going to find flowers for his new friends before leaving.

Ben takes the other top bunk, and Zach takes the bottom bunk under Ben.

Lani just curls herself up between Ben and Zach. She just wants to seek safety, and these two are safe.

Their parents don't know them they've volunteered to fight a war. And they're missing half their friend group.

And if she's honest, it's her fault they're here.

Lani should have known better than to mess with someone Sarge built. But here they are.

Zach rubs her back slowly, "We're right here, Lani. Right here."

"Yeah. I know."

"Should we sing?" Ben grins.

"Please don't." Lani laughs softly.

"You don't plan to act like a bitch the whole time, do you?" Zach tilts his head.

"Fuck you." She says, no bite present. And for all her bark, all her attitude, she is really just glad she's not alone.

"We're going to be okay," Zach says, sitting up slowly.

"Zee's right, you know," Ben agrees, stretching out on his side.

"Can I braid your hair, Zach?" Lani asks.

And Zach agrees. For two reasons.

The first reason is because he likes the feeling of someone's fingers in his hair, it soothes him.

The second reason is because braiding seems to bring Lani peace.

-------

Doyle stands before the Sim troopers and freelancer, trying to figure out how to explain the situation. After all, everything is very different.

"What do you know about time travel?" He asks.

"Not enough." Wash sighs slowly.

"Okay... well, uh- I have a surprise?"

"Go on!" Donut urges, "You have me on the edge!"

"Come in." Doyle calls over his shoulder.

The door opens, and three teens stroll in. The tallest has a red pixie cut. The shortest has dark skin and long locs. The middle height teen has bubblegum streaked curls.

"Oh my god." The shortest teen groans.

"These are your children. From the future." Doyle manages.

"What?!" Wash and Donut manage.

"I have no kids!" Sarge says quickly, he doubts he'd have kids later. He's already kind of old!

"We know, Sarge." Says the teen with streaked curls.

"Uh- hi?" The tall one waves, "I'm Aspen."

"Who's kid are you?" Wash asks.

"Carolina's."

"Oh."

"I'm Cassie Tucker." The short one explains, "Hey dad."

"Me?" Wash blinks.

"Yes, you." Cassie snorts, seemingly amused by her father's cluelessness.

"Oh."

"I'm Violet Dufranse! I'm Donut and Doc's kid."

"My baby!" Donut cries, sounding every bit the theater kid he probably was.

"Hi, Daddy!" Violet waves cheerily.

"This is all kinds of weird." Wash mutters.

"Oh chil, dad. Ben, Zach, and Lani aren't here. Wait- where are they?" Cassie turns her attention to Aspen quietly.

"Uh- probably with our other adults?"

"Wait, there's more of you?" Wash asks. Feeling genuine dread in his heart. Their other teammates had kids?

"Course there are, crafty aliens always have friends!" Sarge snaps.

"Yeah, there's more." Cassie rolls her eyes. "There's Lani Grif-Simmons, Zach, who's Caboose's nephew, and my brother Ben."

"Grif and Simmons have a kid?" Sarge asks.

"That makes a lot of sense!" Donut declares, "They spend so much time together."

"They had a nice wedding." Violet adds with a hum. "The pictures make it look beautiful."

"Pictures?!" Donut gasps loudly, "You have to show me!"

Violet is reaching for her phone, more than ready to show off the pictures. Unfortunately, Cassie just shakes her head, muttering something that makes Violet sighs.

"Guys." Aspen says, "We have to focus. Where are the others?"

"I don't know. But how much trouble can they get into?" Cassie asks.

"Are you serious?" Violet looks to the shortest with a look of confusion. "Lani and Ben are being let loose without any authority the respect."

"Whatever Vi, they have Zach with them. It won't be that bad."

"This is a nightmare." Apsen groans.

Washington looks between Sarge and Donut, wondering where Lopez is. But really, what could the robot do?

He's inclined to agree with Aspen. This has all the makings of a nightmare. He has twins. He has twins with Tucker.

Okay, the Tucker part isn't too bad.

Wash really doesn't mind Tucker. If he's going to be honest about his feelings, and he hates that, he's a little too fond of the aquamarine soilder.

"These young adults have graciously volunteered to help us fight the rebels so we can rescue your friends." Doyle says as he gestures to the time travel trio.

"No." Washington says firmly. "No way in hell."

There's a second of silence, while all three teens stare him down. But he's not budging on this one. He is not letting these three fight.

"Yes. I promise the rest of our group is going to fight. We're not letting them fight alone." Violet is shrugging, looking for all the world like she's just suggested tea.

"Aren't you anti violence?" Cassie frowns.

"I'm anti needless violence. If I can't talk my way out, I can fight."

"This is great and all, I'm happy to meet my new red rookie, but we aren't getting any fighting done like this!" Sarge crosses his arms.

"Can we talk about this later? It's been a long-. How long have we been awake?" Aspen looks around, trying to make sense of time.

"I don't know. I'm more worried about the look on Kai's face when we left." Cassie admits, "Here's hoping she ends up with Lani and not us."

"It's all going to be fine," Violet assures quickly.

"Yeah, you'll see. You're surrounded by big, strong men, we'll be right behind you, and you just tell us what you need." Donut chimes in quickly, sounding a little too excited.

"Thanks, dad!" Violet chimes happily.

"Okay, can someone show us where we'll be sleeping?" Aspen cuts in.

Doyle nods, mostly to himself. He needs to get this show on the road. He has a strategy meeting in ten minutes.

The genral straightens to his full height. "I've put you three in a room across from Washington and Donut."

"Thank you," Aspen says evenly.

Doyle just nods. "Woukd you guys show the new recruits to their room?"

"Absolutely!" Sarge is standing now. He's very fast.

There's some bickering, but after a minute, Sarge is leading the entire group minus Doyle through the halls.

They make it to the teens' new room, and Wash is kind enough to check the perimeter. He dosen’t know a lot about parenting, but he figures he should make sure there's no lurking enemies. That sounds like good parenting.

Aspen shows the Sim troopers and Washington off, claiming that they have it all covered.

And then Violet is trying to get reassurance that things are really going to be okay.

-------

In the future, the Sim troopers are staring at the charred device and floor with mounting horror. They just watched their kids disintegrate.

"Ah fuck." Tucker groans lowly.

Grif turns a glare to Tucker. His acusing presence should freeze over hell. "My daughter just disintegrated and all you have is 'ah fuck'?!"

"Okay now calm down gentlemen." Sarge reassures, "They ain't dead."

"Good." Doc says, looking like he might hyperventilate.

"It sure looks like they are!" Grif snaps, throwing his hand to the side, "But do tell. How do six teens survive being disintegrated?!"

"They're in the past numb nuts." Tucker says, pushing Grif's hand away from him.

"How do you know?!" Simmons demands, whirling on the retired blue.

"Uh guys, shouldn't someone go after them?" Kai asks.

Unfortunately, no one registers her words. She sighs, deciding to go pack a bag. If their parents can't get their shit together, Auntie Kai will just have to go help.

That sounds like a great plan.

Kai leaves, missing out on the part of the conversation where the others insult each other, oh, and remember that the time travel device sent them to a war.

If she had heard that, she wouldn't have packed so many condoms.

#misty writes #red vs blue #red vs blue fic #rvb #red vs blue chorus #rvb chorus #dexter grif #dick simmons #lavernius tucker #michael j caboose #rvb sarge #franklin delano donut #rvb doc #agent washington #grimmons #tuckington #docnut

[plagues02]

War and Cats

Summary: Wash agreed to keep an eye on Caboose during the war on Chorus, but Caboose seemed to disappear on him. Characters: Agent Washington, Micheal J. Caboose Word Count: 1222 Note: I wrote this for my friend @mirror-mariposa. You should check him out!

War was tough for everyone. The Doctors, the soldiers, the civilians (how little there were nowadays). Chorus has so few people now that only the youth, elderly, and terribly injured were considered civilians now.

For some people, this wasn’t their first war, and it was slowly taking its toll on them. Wash and Carolina were once freelancers. Being a freelancer became all they knew for the longest time. Their time in the Great War defined them. The siblings spoke often about those times to each other, but they rarely spoke about it with others. It felt more comfortable that way. They rarely mentioned their lives before joining the Reds and Blues to others. No one pushed them; it wasn’t their place. They all knew the two had a hard time.

However, a lesser known fact about the team, Wash and Carolina weren’t the only members who fought in the Great War. No one would expect that someone from Blood Gulch would have fought in the war; none of them were fit to be in the war in their current state. Yet, the Reds and Blues knew about Caboose’s past. They knew of his purple heart and why he had it. They had an ex-Spartan on their side.

War took its toll on them, mentally and physically, the first time, and it was taking its toll the second time as well. Everyone’s body ached from the almost constant training and battling they took part in, and their mental states had seen better days. It was reopening old wounds for the Great War veterans.

Wash fell back into trying to force people to see him as a leader. He found himself being bossy and a little too harsh towards the younger soldiers without meaning to; Carolina was always there to snap him out of it. Carolina would start spending more time alone, pushing herself further than she should be. Church did all he could to stop her from doing that and to take a rest, and when he couldn’t, he would get Wash’s help.

However, Caboose was different. He acted like his usual self from before they joined the war, and it seemed like nothing was bothering him. He was as air-headed as always, maybe even more so, but only people who knew him very well would be able to tell that. Tucker and Church had mentioned that he seemed off a few times. This led Wash to agree to keep an eye on Caboose the best he could with how much the ex-Spartan moved around.

Wash started to wonder why he was the one to agree to this one day when it seemed extra hard to find Caboose anywhere. He wasn’t in his room. Nor was he in the training room, nor the weapons room, or with any of the Red and Blues. There was nowhere else he could look, or so he thought. Stepping outside to clear his head, he heard Caboose’s voice nearby.

“You know, it’s not that bad, really. I mean, what would John say if he saw me freaking out now? I fought in worst battles.”

Wash’s eyebrows furrowed at the words. He was talking to someone? Everyone who it could be was inside; Wash knew everyone was from looking for Caboose. He also didn’t think Caboose would be one to talk so casually with an enemy like he was, unless it was to mislead them.

The ex-freelander’s steps were as quiet as he could make them, following the sound of Caboose’s voice. He wasn’t too far from the main building, but he was near a smaller building that they didn’t use. Wash stopped at the corner of the building and peeked out at the other man.

Caboose was sitting on the ground with his helmet off, resting on the ground by his side. His hair was getting too long, falling into face, and his eyes looked tired. Wash finally saw who he was talking to.

In his lap, there was a small cat. It didn’t look like a kitten, but it definitely looked undersized for a full grown cat. It had long orange fur that was dirty and part was matted.

“Meow”

“I know, I know,” Caboose smiled softly, reaching into one of his armor’s pockets. “I brought something for you.”

The man held out his hand flat towards the cat. The cat sniffed whatever it was before stepping closer, tilting its head down. Food, he was feeding it.

“That’s all I could bring you this time, Garf. I’ll try to bring some more later.”

The cat looked up at Caboose and mewed before rubbing its head against his hand. It finished the food before starting to make circles in Caboose’s lap, curling into a ball.

The blue armored man ran his hand over the cat and started to speak again, “It’s not so bad… Church is still here to yell at me for my screw ups.”

His words sounded forced, like he was trying to convince himself of these. “It reminds me of Blood Gulch… I miss it there.”

“You would like it there,” Caboose tilted his head a little, looking down. His eyes softened. “I would keep you nice and fed, and you could come inside, and you could sleep in my bed, and… and we wouldn’t be fighting a real war.” His shoulders drooped a little as he went on. A sigh left his lips.

Wash decided it was time to make himself known. He slowly walked over, still trying to make his footsteps as quiet as possible. The ex-freelancer pulled his helmet off.

“There you are.”

Caboose’s head snapped up, taking a moment to realize who it was. He made himself smile at the other man. Without his helmet, Wash could tell it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Washington!”

Wash forced a smile back. “Hey, Caboose.”

The older man sat on the ground in front of the other. The cat, Garf, lifted its head to look at the newcomer. Wash reached his hand up to allow the cat to sniff him. The cat did before mewing and laying its head back down. The man smiled softly before looking up, pulling his hand back.

“You doing okay, buddy?”

Caboose opened his mouth to respond, but Wash first added, “Caboose, don’t lie. Do you need to talk?”

The ex-Spartan hesitated, rubbing the cat’s head with his thumb. “...I don’t like this, the fighting and the noises and killing and…”

A sigh left the ex-freelancer’s lips. “I know, I don’t either,” he glanced back down at the cat in the Blue’s lap. “Hey, why don’t we go back inside? That cat could use a bath, and I think I could help sneak more food to it.”

Caboose perked up at this, eyes widening. He stared at the other man, wondering if he was telling the truth. Wash nodded at him. The Blue’s smile became genuine as he got off the ground, holding the cat in one arm. He grabbed his helmet with his free hand before starting to rush towards the main building. Wash smiled to himself as he got up to follow.

War was hell, and it was taking its toll on them all. But maybe with a cat around base, it would help at least one get through it all, and that was better than nothing.

#wash fic #red vs blue #rvb #red vs blue fic #rvb fic #red vs blue headcanon #rvb headcanon #michael j caboose #rvb caboose #red vs blue caboose #agent washington #rvb wash #red vs blue wash #chorus #chorus trilogy #rvb chorus #red vs blue chorus #headcanon #fanfic #fanfiction

[twicethetrouble]

I've been picking at this fic for a year and a half. I'm done being awkward about it. Here. Have the stupid/awkward/fluffy Simmons/wash fic i never intended to write, before i think better of it. again.

#rvb #red vs blue #my fic link #this doesn't have it's own tag #idk if it's worth giving it one either #im feeling like working on fluffy romantic shit rn #which means this fic in particular gets some work #and there's a lot of stupid silly things in it that i want to share #like caboose stealing the red flag for laundry day #and wash's weird collection of shirts

[epsilon-system]

Fic/au doodle fanart ,,, cab :3

( fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43150975/chapters/108448072 )

#sigh #caboose rvb #rvb au #fic fanart #rvb #red vs blue

[cosmic-hoboandthehighlander]

Do Ye Ever Miss Home?

Title:  Do Ye Ever Miss Home? 

Fandom: Doctor Who (1963)

Ship: Second Doctor/Jamie

Rating/Length: T; 6,433

Summary: Jamie seems to be a bit homesick, so the Doctor attempts to cheer him up. After some thought, Jamie realizes that home is wherever the Tardis, and the Doctor, are. 

Wake up, new two/jamie fic! I've been thinking about this idea for days (no wonder it got so long!)

#two/jamie #classic doctor who #second doctor #jamie mccrimmon #caboose writes #doctor who fic

[thepiratefish]

RvB headcannons!

(Fluff)

1: Lopez upgraded there hands so they could make small holographic screens wether it's for research or he needed to show one of the reds/blues something like a video or image. His favorite thing to do with it is to make little holographic stars and watch them float around whenever he's alone.

2: Sarge is Trans themselves and saw that both Griff and Simmons were Trans so he just gave them Top surgery without telling them.

3: Caboose wears a puppy backpack and puts little pins that represent the Reds and Blues on it (It also has a little pouch so he can put freckles in it).

4: Singing and movie nights, Every Monday wensday and Friday Redteam have movie nights, They have plenty of movies to watch and they always take turns picking a movie' Tuesday and Thursday is when they do karaoke or just sing together Even Sarge and Lopez are in on it Caboose is Also there he's the only blue but he enjoys attempting to sing along.

5: The Red and Blues see and treat lopez as a real human but pretend to See him as a robot as a joke (Lopez knows this and is in on the joke) the only time they aren't doing the joke is when something serious is happening

+I head cannon Lopez gose by He/It.

(Angst)

1: Lopez can cry Sarge gave them tearducks for somereason. But whenever he crys he crys oil and its strongly Beautiful, The oil looks shiny and looks like it has a bunch of white glittery dots in it but Noone knows why, The first time they saw then cry is probably when One of the red team get Severly injured and Noone knows if they will survive or not Witch caused Lopez to go into a panic. (He also cried after Church left there message but he refused to let any tears fall until they were alone.

2: Sarge had always had a leader roll and was always reckless even when they were younger witch pushed people away and caused his parents to send them to military shcool to 'Set him stright' but only caused them to Rebel and find his passion for fighting. He's also became attached to the red team (including Griff suprisingly) becuase they were some of the first people who didnt run away from him.

3: When he was younger Griff would always give most of his food to his sister when he was younger witch caused them to stress eat when they got old enough to sustain themselves he only fears feeling like he's going to starve so he eats alot becuase of that.

4: Tucker will sometimes reminisce when Junior was younger and he was taking care of them so he FaceTime them to tell him story's when he's going to bed (Junior lives it when this happens) Tucker will also sometimes read caboose story's, Whenever he dose this he feels a bit sad and happy becuase it reminds him of when they were younger and they didn't have anybody to read him story's or take care of them.

[] These are all the headcannons I have for now Feel free to use them for Fics or comic ideas as long as you @ me or tell me about it :)[]

#RvB #RvB Lopez #RvB Tucker #RvB simmons #RvB griff #rvb sarge #Rvb Caboose #RvB freckles #RvB Sister #RvB doc and omally #RvB junior #Rvb fic ideas #Red vs Blue

[sabotourist]

the primal urge to dig a hole

behold, chapter 2 of the hit rvb chatfic, "laughter is a decent opioid," a fic by me (Raven6229) and the amazing @illusion-of-sea-axes

i managed to make a python script this time around to automatically apply most of the formatting to the text. this saved me roughly four hours of work. praise be the machine

anyway, we're really happy with how this came out. hopefully it gives you guys a laugh or two!

#red vs blue #rvb #rvb fic #wash rvb #sarge rvb #church rvb #epsilon rvb #washington rvb #tucker rvb #lavernius tucker #simmons rvb #dick simmons #grif rvb #dexter grif #carolina rvb #caboose rvb #michael j caboose #laughter is a decent opioid #my shit #rvb meme

[theosphobia]

Hello rvbblr, rvb tumblr, the 3 people always liking my posts.

I bring my first ever fanfiction. and its rvb. idk how ao3 works so im just gonna drop it in here and hope thats accceptable.... erm... anyways

Everyone got seperated; the reds and blues were scattered in a pirate stronghold. Their long range comms were down and pirates lurked around every corner trying to hunt the sim troopers down.

Washington had just survived a scuffle, breaking into a run as he heard familiar shouting not too far off. Just around a couple shipping containers, Wash found Caboose standing over a pirate, Freckles' barrel smoking from fresh fire.

The blue caught the solider in the side of his vision and raised the ai-assisted rifle towards him, confetti dispersed from the gun.

"Friendly Signature Detected."

"Agent Washington! Uhm, he was like that when I got here."

Wash pushed the thought of Caboose firing at him away, he was just glad to see a friendly face.

"Caboose! Have you seen anyone else?" Wash asked, jogging up to the larger character.

Caboose looked back down at the pirate he was resting his foot on,

"On our team Caboose."

"Oh! No." Caboose shook his head and moved away from the body, sizing up to Wash.

"Are you doing okay? You hurt anywhere?" Wash started to walk and the other followed closely.

"I'm a little stressed out... and hungry.." he started. "We should find Griff next!"

Wash chuckled and patted Caboose on the back, "Hey Freckles?" The gun chimed in response, "can you find any other friendly contacts?"

"Nearest Friendly Tag is 356m away. Identification: Lavernius Tucker."

"Awesome, Can you guide us to him?" Wash asked. The custom laser sight on the rifle turned on and pointed forward. Caboose stared curiously, turning the gun from side to side, the line remained aimed toward its original path. Caboose gave a coo of amazement.

"Lets get going, the sooner we find the others the better."

--

Wash and Caboose followed Freckles' guide until they hit a large pond in the cave; they could see the remainder of the pirate stronghold on the otherside, but the water seemed to stretch to the walls, and they couldn't see the bottom. The laser ran true straight across the water.

Washington stopped for a moment to think while Caboose took a couple steps into the pond.

"I saw something over here! It might be those sim troopers!"

A voiced called from not too far away. Wash cursed to himself, a group of red dots were moving towards them on his motion tracker.

"Maybe they know how we can get across!" Caboose cheered, turning around towards the noise and started walking. Wash caught him by the arm,

"Caboose no they're trying to kill us remember?"

"Oh yeah.."

"There's no time, we're just gonna have to go through it." Wash sighed, leading the blue giant back towards the water and stepping in.

"Uhm I can't swim very well.." Caboose started, standing a bit back from Wash.

"We're not swimming, our suits will recycle air for a while, we should just be able to walk along the bottom." Washington informed him. The other man didn't argue, stashed Freckles, and followed along, both of the started to move as fast as they could in half-ton armour in water as the shouting grew louder.

They were fully submerged for a while before Wash started to notice something wrong, he was wet.

"Uh 'boose.... buddy, not to scare you or anything but I think my armour is filling up with water." Wash could feel a cut in his kevlar around his neck. He must have gotten it in that fight earlier.

"Wuh oh.." Caboose had stopped and turned to look at Wash, somehow he had managed to be moving faster than the freelancer. "Should we go back?" There was a tinge of panic in his voice.

"We can't... we just have to move faster, it can't be that much farther now" He tried holding his hand to seal the hole but water still managed to seep through his fingers, the water was hitting his waist now.

Caboose nodded and reached back, grabbing Wash's free hand, and started pulling him along so their treck sped up.

At some point, the weight behind him stalled.

"Agent Washington?"

"It's in my helmet."

Wash couldn't see, but Caboose's eyes widened. He moved closer to Washington,

"Freckles uhm.. how much further?" The blue asked as he began picking up Wash and slinging him over his shoulder without protest.

"Nearest Friendly Tag is 189m away"

Panic was rising in his voice, "okay thank you Freckles!" His speed was considerably lessened with the extra weight but that didn't stop Caboose from making his strides as quick as possible.

--

Wash had stopped responding about halfway from their predictament. Caboose didn't stop moving until they breached the shore on the other side.

Caboose laid Washington on the ground and unholstered Freckles, laying it behind them.

"Freckles you lookout for bad guys."

"Affirmative."

Oh crap oh crap oh crap... Caboose's hands shook as his fingers fumbled with the clasps on Wash's helmet and chestplate.

Water poured out as the seals broke, Wash's hair clung to his forehead. His chest laid still.

What do I do what do I do?? Think Michael think!! Caboose tried to remember what Doc had taught them ages ago. CPR CPR...

"First check to see if they're breathing! If they're not then you'll probably have to perform CPR. Since Grif already knows how to do it he'll be my demonstration."

Caboose glanced at the still freelancer, his chest was still, their chest moves when they breath right?

"Remember, you guys are wearing half-ton armour so you won't have to compress as hard as you would if you weren't. You should press down twice per second, there's songs that help but Beyoncé is timeless so we're gonna use Crazy In Love." Caboose positioned himself above Wash, tried to remember the correct hand shape, and hovered above the freelancer's chest. What if I mess up I don't want to kill Wash he's not special like Church is... he won't come back..

He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his nerves. He started compressing, finding it easier to just count than remember Doc's silly song.

"Every 30 or so compressions try and give rescue breaths! Tilt their head back a little while pinching their nose to open their airway. Then you're gonna blow into their mouth a normal amount just enough so their chest rises; do that twice. If it doesn't rise make sure they don't have anything stuck in their throat. Grif is that gum I see in there?"

Caboose quickly brought his face to Wash's, blood splattered across his visor.

"Haha whoops sorry Washington!" He brought his hands back to unclasp his own helmet and set it to the side; turning back to brush away some of the bloody nose with his hand.

Caboose lingered slightly, he could feel the air around them now, he could also feel the lack of air coming from Wash's mouth. He cradled the back of Wash's neck in his hand, pinched his nose with the other and started his rescue breaths.

He fell into autopilot, repeating the steps in his mind over and over as he did them until a sharp breath came from Washington, as did a mouthful of cave pond water.

Caboose helped him sit up as Wash coughed up his missing breaths; his gaze fixated on the older man's movement.

"Caboose?" The blue's eyes bore into Wash, he seemed terrified. The feeling broke at the sound of his name however.

"Agent Washington you're okay! You should avoid drinking pond water, I don't think it's good for you." There was smeared blood on Caboose's face, Wash dipped his hand into the water and rubbed it against the stain.

"How'd you get blood on you 'Boose? Where's your helmet?" The other blue wore his helmet so often it was rare to see his face, his hair had gotten a bit longer and Wash could see wearing smile lines from his angle.

"Oh uhm! So when we got out of the water you weren't breathing so I tried to give you Cee Pee Arr but I forgot to take my helmet off! So now you have a bloody nose and you shared it with me when I gave you rescuing breaths!" He smiled, reaching beside him to grab his helm and snapped it back on, his second face returned.

Wash rubbed the back of his hand against his face, his helmet was off as well, and his own blood smeared against the glove.

"Holy shit you saved my life Caboose."

"I did?" His head tilted and he perked up again."I did! Oh my god does that mean my team kills go down? Because I saved you?"

Wash chuckled, clasping his breastplate back on and grabbing his helmet.

"Sure it does."

"Oh! You should probably cover that hole in case we have to go swimming again, Church always packed some for me..." Caboose dug around in his utility belt and procured a large patch used for underarmour sealing; he handed it to Wash and watched as the freelancer slapped it against his neck and rubbed it down.

"Geez thanks Caboose, you're really on it today." Wash said as brushed his hair back and locked his helm back in place.

Caboose wiggled from his seated position, paused, and grabbed Freckles before firing behind him.

Confetti dispersed from the rifle.

"Friendly Signature Detected."

"Caboose what the hell?! Did you really just try to shoot me?"

"Hi Tucker!"

#please be lenient im not good at writinf #im also horrible at character comprehension so if theyre ooc leave me alone sobs #“He would NOT fucking say that” moment #comments r appreciated.... #rvb #red vs blue #rooster teeth #michael j caboose #caboose rvb #agent washington #david washington #wash rvb #my writing #fanfiction #rvb fic