#Hunk is a good pal

[imagines-all-day-everyday]

home.

summary: after *yn* loses those closest to her in the battle against thanos, she decides to escape from any reminder of her past life as an Avenger, including Bucky. it was all going to plan, until an unfortunate encounter with a group of outcasts brings her back to him

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, THUNDERBOLTS* SPOILERS!!!

notes: um this is weird. hi. I'm back. please enjoy <3 p.s thank you bucky for making me come out of retirement

A few years ago if *yn* was on a mission, she would have had an extraction team waiting for her, or a state of the art covert getaway vehicle or - if push really came to shove - a hammer wielding god who could pick her up like she weighed nothing and fly her to safety.

Now here she was in the middle of the desert, crouched down in the back of an offensively red limo being driven by a crazy Russian Santa, with a bunch of people she probably would have apprehended during her time as an Avenger all while being shot at by employees of her old boss.

Yeah, this was a new all time low.

"For the love of god please make this hunk of junk go fucking faster!" She shouted as she took a brief respite from firing at the vehicles behind them.

"How dare you. My beauty is no hunk of junk!" Alexei retorted back, his Russian accent heavy as he swerved to avoid a pothole.

*yn* rolled her eyes before poking her head up over Walker's shield and fruitlessly shooting at the windshields behind them.

"Someone better do something or we're fucked." Walker yelled as he curled himself over *yn* and Ava as the front vehicle opened fire again.

"Yelena hand me my vodka!" Alexei demanded as Valentina's men inched closer.

"You cannot be-"

"Vodka! Now!" Alexei roared. Yelena shut her mouth and grabbed the bottle of vodka from the dash.

*yn* watched as Alexei ripped the cap off and took a large swig. She opened her mouth to protest but left it open in shock as she watched him assemble a molotov cocktail and toss it through the sunroof before she could blink.

The limo fell silent for a brief moment as time slowed and the group watched the flaming bottle flip through the air. It landed cleanly on the windshield, flames licking up the sides of the glass.

Just like the flame, she felt a brief ember of hope flicker inside her. But just as quickly as it had emerged, it was immediately snuffed out as she watched the flames begin to sputter out.

"We need another- shit!" Walker exclaimed as the closest vehicle suddenly exploded. It flipped over and crashed in a fiery wreck to the side of the road.

"How is that possible?" Ava asked as everyone peered over the backseat through the shot out back window.

A rev of a different engine answered back.

*yn* felt her stomach lurch at the sight of an all too familiar motorcycle appearing from behind the envoy.

A glint of a metal hand wrapped around the front of the motorcycle caught her eye. The metal led a trail up to a pair of black sunglasses, framed by dark tresses of hair. A chiseled jaw set in a grimace was next to greet her.

Bucky.

"Oh my god it is Winter Soldier! My Russian brother!"

Cheers chorused through the limo as *yn* turned around and sunk back into the fraying seat.

It seemed that things could indeed get worse.

"Bucky come on, can't you see we're the good guys now."

"Yeah come on Bucky let us out of here."

*yn* tuned out the loud voices of the others as they spoke over the top of one another and struggled against their restraints.

Her whole body was throbbing from the impact of the limo flipping over thanks to Bucky's decision to plant a bomb underneath it.

Speaking of Bucky, she could feel his eyes on her as she blinked slowly, staring up at the rusting beams of the abandoned warehouse.

"Why is *yn* tied up anyway, she was an Avenger after all." *yn* couldn't control the visible flinch that contorted her body at Ava's question.

"Yeah, aren't you two pals? You wouldn't shut up about her in Munich."

John's words were all it took to shatter her resolve. Her eyes involuntarily flitting to where Bucky was standing. Those steel blue eyes found hers instantly. It felt like he was staring right through her and rummaging around through her soul.

She swallowed and cooled her features as she quickly averted her gaze from his. Her heart felt like it was about to burst out of her chest.

"I'm taking you all to D.C to testify against Val."

Protests erupted from the rest of the group.

"What, like now?" Yelena queried incredulously.

"Yes, like now."

"You can't. You don't know what Val has done, Bucky." She fired back. "There's this guy Bob who Val is using for something she’s calling Project Sentry and she's turned him into this unstoppable, unstable machine and it's only a matter of time until-"

"I'm sorry, did you say Bob?" Bucky raised a brow.

"Yes, Bob."

"Bob?"

"Bob!" They all confirmed in unison.

*yn* stole a glance at Bucky again to see the disbelief written across his face.

"Listen to them Bucky." Her voice was hoarse as her vocal chords finally stretched out.

His attention was fixed on her immediately and for some reason, when those eyes locked with hers, an unexplainable rush of rage coursed through her.

"Sorry, or is it Congressman Barnes now?" Her tone could not be described as anything but a sneer. Even she was surprised at the vitriol laced through it.

She didn't have a reason to be angry at him, not really. She supposed that she was just angry at the world. At herself.

His face hardened the second the words left her lips. Not too dissimilar to the way his face used to glaze over when he was fighting his Winter Soldier urges, or when a particular memory would come back to him and he tried not to show that he was effected by it. She could always tell when it was happening. And it happened alot.

"I need to talk to you." His tone was firm and authoritative as he marched over to her.

The rest of the group had seemed to somehow make the correct judgment that this was not the time to make a stupid remark. They all watched in silence as he cut through the rope wrapped around her abdomen.

"Alone."

She tucked her chin as she brought her arms in front of her, flexing her stiff wrists and fingers now that they were finally free of the binds. She glanced up at him to see him towering above her. He was studying her, like he was almost expecting her to tackle him.

She knew better than to engage in a fight with him right now, especially in her current condition.

"Fine."

She pushed herself off the floor and didn't spare the rest of the group a glance as she followed him towards another room.

A storage room, she realised as she stepped through the door. Bucky shut the door behind them, encasing the room in silence. It was surprisingly soundproof.

The rest of the group watched them mutely as they disappeared into the room.

"So did they date or what?" John remarked the second the door shut behind them.

"Yes there is much tension there." Alexei chimed in.

Yelena stared at the door as conversations she'd had with Nat climbed back into the forefront of her mind. She had heard about the stolen glances, the pining and the self sacrificing they'd each try and do every time the other was hurt on a mission.

"God those two, they make you want to bash their heads together. But they're kind of cute. You'll see what I mean if you meet them." Nat chuckled as she took a sip of her beer.

"I don't understand." Yelena's brow furrowed. "Why don't they just tell each other how they feel?"

Nat laughed at her sister and shook her head. "If only it were that simple. Not everyone is as straightforward as you, y'know. People are... complicated." Nat sighed as she gazed out the window.

"But *yn* and Bucky-" She cut herself off and shook her head. "I don't know. I'm a cynic, but... it'll happen. It might just take something big for them to see it."

Yelena pressed her mouth together firmly at the memory of her older sister.

"Worse." Yelena finally answered the group.

What was probably only a few moments of silence, stretched out for what felt like an eternity once the door closed behind them. *yn* turned her back to him to look out the grimy window at the sprawling desert that encased them.

"You look like shit."

*yn* snorted at his remark. She turned around to face him, crossing her arms over her chest. His gaze was still steely, his expression unreadable as he studied her.

"Well being in a vehicle when it gets blown up certainly doesn't help appearances."

Their brief interaction had given her a little bit more confidence. Like her body was starting to remember how comfortable she used to feel around him. She was most definitely rusty at this. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a proper conversation with someone since this whole saga started.

Bucky watched her as she took a step towards him.

All it took was for their eyes to lock and he was back at the Avengers Compound, watching her chat animately with Steve on the other side of the living room. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes twinkling as she threw her head back in laughter. He didn't forget the way Natasha nudged him and gave him a knowing look either.

She did look worse for wear, that was true. She was gaunter in her face, her eyes rimmed with dark circles. But it was her eyes that had changed the most. They looked flat, defeated, almost lifeless. But despite all that, she was still just as beautiful as she had been when he last saw her four years ago. It still only took one look from her for his heart to start beating just that little bit faster.

"I didn't know you were in the car."

*yn* was caught off guard by his soft admission.

"I know."

He frowned as he moved towards her. Like he’d just snapped out of daze and remembered where they were. "What the fuck are you doing out here?"

She averted her gaze at his question, her arms crossing back over her chest as if to form a barrier around herself.

"Don't tell me you were working for Val."

Just as Bucky got close enough that he could reach out and touch her if he wanted, she took a step back and angled her body towards the window once more.

"Quite the fall from grace, huh?" She remarked dryly.

"*yn*." This time there was a hint of desperation in his tone.

She turned her head slightly. The sun shining through the window behind her cast an almost ethereal glow around her side profile.

"Where the hell have you been?"

*yn* had no idea how to answer that question. What was she supposed to say? That she'd spent the last four years in a downward spiral, wandering around aimlessly in an attempt to avoid the reality that half of her friends were either dead or had up and left after Thanos. And that when that stopped working, she finally succumbed to Valentina's offer to work for her in a last desperate effort to drive the last few years of her life out of her memory by shooting people and blowing shit up (which she had failed at, miserably).

Because that's exactly what she'd done.

She'd been a super soldier for her own country, raised in a lab and injected with some replica of Erskine's serum. Until she went rogue and Nick Fury recruited her for some secret project he'd dubbed 'The Avengers.'

Earth's mightiest heroes apparently, although they were more like Earth’s mightiest disasters. All of them were damaged in some shape or form, but they'd somehow managed to become a family. A very dysfunctional one, but still a family. The only family she’d ever known. Steve and Nat in particular had taken her under their wing, she'd been the youngest in the team. And that was how she'd met Bucky.

She'd been through Steve's side through all of it, realising Bucky was alive, the battle at the Triskelion, the civil war that his existence started, helping him heal his mind.

She'd been in love with Bucky for as long as she could remember. And there was a small part of her that thought he might just feel the same way.

And then she got blipped.

When she came back, her best friend Natasha was dead and she was thrown back into chaos with no time to grieve or process the realisation that she'd missed out on five years of life. And then Tony died. And then Steve left them, without even saying goodbye.

The family she'd known and loved crumbled right before her very eyes. Everyone else took off, dealing with their own traumas in one way or another, and she was left to try and pick up her own pieces.

And she couldn't.

Someone who was supposed to be an Avenger, who helped save the entire universe, couldn't get her shit together.

She had wanted to go to Bucky. Had thought that maybe in the dusk of all of the chaos, they could build something. Help heal each other.

Sam had told her that he'd been ignoring his messages. She'd elected not to tell Sam that she in fact, had been ignoring Bucky's.

So a few months after Tony's funeral, she'd plucked up the courage to go see him at his apartment. That was when she happened to glance through the window of a nearby restaurant to see him with a woman she did not recognise seated a table and laughing.

A date, there was no doubt about it.

She had felt like such an idiot for thinking that there might have been possibly something between them. That she'd read into all the times she'd caught him staring at her, or the way he would someone manage to appear beside her anytime she was in danger on a mission.

She went home, packed up what she could in a backpack, and didn't look back.

"*yn*." Bucky's gruff voice sliced through her haze of thoughts.

"We should get going. Bob's in trouble." She muttered, moving to step past him towards the door.

A breath caught in her throat as the cool metal of his left hand gently wrapped around her bicep, keeping her in place.

"*yn*." This time his voice was barely more than a whisper. "Please."

She properly looked at him for the first time. Really looked at him. He was more tan since she'd last seen him. It was the same face she had fallen in love with all those years ago, with just a few extra lines that she'd not had a chance to memorise yet.

She pressed her lips into a line, feeling her chin wobble as she tried to keep her composure.

"What do you want me to say?" Her voice was hoarse as she tried to blink back the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.

"You could have stayed. Could have carried on the Avenger's work."

She scoffed at that and pulled herself out of his grasp and put some distance between them once more.

"And done what exactly?" Her words were bitter as she glared at him. "Got into politics like you?"

"You think this has been easy for me?" His voice inched higher as he spoke. "That I don’t think about what I’ve done and how many lives I’ve taken every single moment of my life, even when I’m asleep?” He marched towards her once more so the pair were nearly chest to chest.

"Because I do.”

His words splashed water over the rage that was building up inside her.

"It wasn't you who did those things." Her tone softened as she spoke.

"Maybe. But it's my face who people remember."

Silence enveloped the pair as they studied eachother. Their minds racing through all of the trauma they've endured on their own and together.

"I'm weak. *yn* admitted after a few moments. It felt almost freeing to say those words out loud. Like she had taken the padlock off a chest that hoarded all of her deepest and darkest thoughts.

"That's why I ran. I couldn't handle it. The memorials, the biographies, the questions about who was going to replace them I-" She shook her head as the first few months after the battle against Thanos flashed before her eyes like a movie reel.

"Fuck I still can't handle it. I can barely even look at Yelena because-" Her eyes welled. Yelena and Nat didn't physically resemble eachother that much, but every so often Yelena would say something or look at her a certain way, and all she could think about was her best friend who never came home.

"Hey." Bucky's voice was gentle. A gloved finger crooked under her jaw and tilted her face up to lock eyes wit his. "You're not weak. You're human."

"They're all gone Buck." She quivered, tears running freely down her dusty cheeks. "And Steve left us without even saying goodbye." Metal fingers brushed her cheeks gently.

"And then you left me." Bucky was so quiet she almost thought she'd imagined it.

She felt her bottom lip tremble as she watched tears begin to pool in the corners of his eyes. Guilt wreaked havoc on her heart. She'd walked away from a man who had only known loneliness and pain for longer than she'd been alive.

"I'm sorry." She took a breath. "I guess I just thought no one would miss me all that much."

Her raw admission made Bucky blanch. He looked down at her in disbelief. How could anyone so radiant ever think something like that about themselves.

"I looked for you." A tear slid down his cheek as his voice cracked.

"For months. I looked for you."

There was a pause.

"Why?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

"You know why."

Her heart hammered in her chest at the way he looked at her. This felt like a fever dream. After years of anguish and pain, she couldn't possibly be about to have something good happen to her.

"No. I don't."

Bucky swallowed nervously as he brought a hand over to cradle her jaw.

"Are you really going to make me say it doll?" A breathless laugh passed his lips. For the first time in years, she felt herself lighten at the sound of his laugh. Even more at the sound of that nickname he’d always reserved just for her.

"Yes."

Bucky paused as he ran a thumb along her jawline, his eyes studied every single inch of her face.

"Because it's always been you." His admission made her weak in the knees. His gaze was unbreakable as he stared down at her.

Another dry chuckle emitted from the back of his throat, "and I'm too old to pine after you in the corner for another six years this time around."

"Bucky." She breathed out.

She was scared. So fucking scared. Because this was real. This meant that she had to open herself up to the possibility of even more pain.

But it was also the most alive she'd felt in years.

"If you don't feel the same way I-"

She leant up on her toes and pressed her lips against his. She felt like her insides were melting as he brought his other hand up to cradle the other side of her face. All those of years of anguish and heartache faded into the background as their lips moved against eachother. She felt warm and safe and protected.

He was her home.

The two pulled away after a few moments, their chests slightly more ragged as they studied each other.

"It's always been you." She whispered against his lips.

Bucky couldn't control the grin that spread across his face as he brushed a thumb along her lower lip.

"If Nat was here, she would be freaking out right now."

"So would Steve." Bucky answered. God knows he had never heard the end of it when he was still here.

"Although, he'd probably be disappointed in me that I didn't take you dancing first." The two of them giggled, their salty tears mixing together as they pressed their foreheads together.

"Guess you'll have to take me dancing after we sort this new mess out." *yn* murmured to him as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Speaking of...do you trust them?" Bucky's eyes looked over her shoulder, landing on the closed door that separated them from the others. She turned in his arms to follow his gaze.

"Well, they're all unpredictable, loud, have dodgy pasts and are incredibly damaged." She remarked. "But..." She trailed off as she turned to look up at him.

"So are we." He finished off her sentence.

She nodded. "So yeah, I guess I do. And Bob's a good person. He's unstable but he's.... he needs help."

The corner of Bucky's mouth twitched up as he studied her.

"You're already attached to them, aren't you?"

"A little bit." She admitted.

God she couldn't believe that in such a short span that bunch had managed to get under her skin. But they had.

She really needed to get some friends.

"Which scares me. I can’t lose more people I care about again."

Bucky eyes softened at her confession.

"I'm with you on this. I'm with you on life. And I'm not going anywhere."

She smiled softly and buried her face into his neck, inhaling that familiar scent of pine and smoke. The pair stood wrapped in eachother's arms, enjoying the feeling of being together before they had to go back out there and face reality.

The pain would always be there, they were never going to forget the friends they'd lost. But this was their chance at a fresh start. To help heal each other and to choose themselves this time.

To build a home.

I apologise if I’m rusty, but I’m happy with how this turned out :) if you had told me a year ago I’d be writing again, I wouldn’t have believed you - but here we are!!! This has really made me realise how much I missed you guys. As always always always, feedback is always appreciated because I thrive off praise. Please give it back here x

[orcasoul]

Falling Hard

Summary: Both you and Din have been dancing around your obvious feelings for far too long, much to Grogu's frustration.

Warinings: None, just fluff, and Grogu being an adorable little menace, as usual. Use of Y/N.

Word Count: 1, 486

This is just a silly, fluffy little idea I got after watching Mandalorian season 1 Ep7 where Grogu takes control of the Razor Crest and sends the ship rocking, don't ask, I just had to do this... 🙈

"Dank Farrick," you curse in frustration. No matter how hard you pull, this effing panel just won't come lose on this hunk of junk Razor Crest. For almost twenty minutes you've been struggling, building a sweat, but you really don't want to have to ask for help. The last time Mando had to get close to you it was almost impossible to concentrate; his smell, his body heat, just his aura made you want want to melt into a puddle. To say you have a crush is an understatement!

And even though you're 99% sure Mando feels something for you too, you're just too shy to find out, the fear of that 1% forcing you to keep your feelings hidden. "Urrgh, come on!" It's no use and now your fingertips are raw from prying the stubborn panel. Groaning internally, both from frustration and from the torture you're about to put yourself through you call out, "Mando? Could you come down here and help me out?"

Din heard your voice carry from the hull while sitting with Grogu in the cockpit. The little guy sat surrounded by his many plushie toys, making some float and some fight. "Be there, now," he called back before turning to Grogu. "I'll be right back, Pal," Din tickled his sons' ear. "Be good and don't touch anything." "Patu," Grogu babbled in response, watching Din descend to the hull. The moment he was alone, Grogu's attention went straight to the control panel, a devilish idea forming in his mind....

*****

Entering the hull, Din finds you struggling with the same panel you'd been working on since take off. You're in a wide leg stance, butt jutting out and Din can't keep his eyes from following the curve of your body. "I could use an extra pair of hands with this... kriffin thing," you huff, pulling the panel to no avail. Din forces back his chuckle; maker you're adorable when you get all wound up. Din walks up behind you, placing a hand at your hip to move you out of the way. "Scoot over, Cyar'ika. I've got this," he crooned through his modulator.

Butterflies erupted in your tummy at the sensation of Mando's hand on your hip, all coherent thought abandoning you. That is until he rips the panel off in one pull. "Twenty minutes I've been fighting with that blasted thing and you get it off in two seconds! No fair!" you moan, but your voice carries more amusement than annoyance. Mando just shrugs while tilting his helmet to the side, mock arrogance oozing from him. "Just gotta have the strength for this stuff."

You cross your arms over your chest, a smirk spreading over your face. "Well, if you're the brawn that must make me the brains." Mando rests his hands on his hips, and you just now he's smiling under his helmet. "I don't know about that," he teases. You match his posture, about to give a witty comeback when suddenly the entire ship violently jolts to the side, throwing Mando's huge frame into you, sending the both of you into the wall.

Quick as lightening Mando's hand cups the back of your head to cushion the impact against the wall, his other hand grabbing at the wall for stability. In any other scenario, having Mando's whole body pressed up against yours would have short circuited your brain, but fear is the main response right now. "Hey, kid!" Mando shouts over his shoulder as he scrambles to regain his footing. Loose cargo crates scrape along the floor, bric a brac fall from shelves and storage nets and the alarms blaze as you and Mando slip and slide your way to the ladder. "What the hell is he doing?!" you yelped while holding onto the bounty hunters' arm.

With great difficulty you clamber up the ladder after Mando, practically tumbling into the cockpit. Gorgu is in the pilot seat, squealing and giggling as he thrashes the joystick erratically from side to side, all the while watching you both fall about the place. "Grogu! What did I... tell you about... not touching anything?!" Mando sputtered as he pushed his way to the pilot chair. Grogu pulled the joystick back, purposely sending him crashing into you.

You are both a tangle of limbs now as you roll about the floor. Just as sudden as the chaos started it settled down, with you now on top of Mando, your face less than an inch from his black visor. Time seems to have frozen as you find yourself transfixed by the close proximity to the man you've been fantasizing of for months and, maker, his hands are on your hips again, gripping like there's no tomorrow.

Din has forgotten how to breathe! How did this happen?! How did you end up sprawled out over him just like he'd seen so many times in his dreams? Good gods, you feel incredible, so soft, so delicate, your hands pressed against his breastplate steadying yourself. Thank the force you can't see his blazing cheeks right now. Oh, but he can see yours; in fact his helmet is picking up the unmistakable rise in body temperature as you look at him with blown pupils. The spell is suddenly broken by the sounds of lips smacking together, both of you snapping your heads to the pilot seat, which has spun to face you.

Grogu is now holding two of his plushies in front of him, bumping their faces together and making kissy noises, stopping now and then to point at you both, then resuming the same action. Omg, the little stinker! Has it been that obvious that even Grogu could see how you both felt? Guess you did a crap job at keeping your feelings hidden after all. You slowly climb off Mando, resting on your knees beside him as he sits up. His helmet turns from Grogu to you and right now you're not sure if it's a blessing or a curse that you can't see his face. What do you even say? Grogu points at you both again, making an almost annoyed sound as if to say 'for goodness sake just tell each other how you feel already!'

Now there's no avoiding it, that much is obvious. You look from Grogu to Mando who's now rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. "I uh... think he's trying to tell us something!" Mando whispered awkwardly. "And what's that?" you ask, hesitantly. Mando exhales, slowly. "I think you know, Cyare." "I think I know too but I need to hear you say it," you smile, uncertainty in your eyes. Din knows it's now or never, and he also knows how shy you can be so he has to make the first move, even if he's not used to expressing his feelings.

"I like you..." he blurts out, cringing inwardly as he confesses. Couldn't he do any better than that? He tries again, "I like you Y/N, more than a friend. You're passionate and smart and funny, and so beautiful. I really like you. I have for a long time now." Din's heart beats wildly as he lays it all on the table. He's faced many enemies and deadly situations countless times, but this moment has to be one of the most terrifying moments of his life. However his nerves soon relax as he sees the beaming smile breaking out across your face. "I like you too, Mando, so much!"

Mando cups your cheek, smoothing his thumb gently over your blushing skin. "Din..." he whispers. "What?" you ask, still smiling although somewhat confused. "That's my name, Din Djarin." "Din Djarin..." you breathed quietly, almost reverently. It's such a beautiful name and more importantly, he actually shared it with you! This is big. "I really like you too Din. I care for you, more than I have for any other man, and I want to be with you." Din's entire posture loosens as you say those words, the weight of uncertainty draining from him and leaving a warm, fuzzy feeling in it's place.

Still holding your cheek, he pulls you closer, lowering his head to gently rest his forehead against yours, both of you closing your eyes and basking in one another. "I want that more than anything," Din purrs. An excited squeal erupts from the chair, two little green hands clapping together. Chuckling, you pull away from Din and scoop Grogu into your arms, cradling him between the both of you.

"Guess we have this little matchmaker to thank," you grin, booping his nose. "I guess we do," Din laughed. "But the next time you have a point to make try doing it in a less dramatic manner, you little womp rat." Grogu gurgled up at Din, his little toothy grin melting your heart. You pressed your forehead against Din's once more. You're finally a clan of three.

@negrita2345 @imherefordeanandbones @missadangel @pickettniffler

[thewertsearch]

Alright, there’s a lot going on in this room.

First of all, it’s clear that the Betty Crocker Corporation has supplanted more than just Skaianet. This woman's been stamping her name on chests, cutlery, computers, calendars, and even Fetch Modi, so her company is more like an unholy fusion of Skaianet, Google and Amazon.

I'd give it a week before she pulls a Musk, and rebrands this abomination as 'C' - assuming she hasn't already done so.

Second of all, I initially thought this wall of blue hunks was advertising Jane's tastes, but upon closer inspection, each of them bears a signature in the Pen-Pal's color.

His older self did have a strange fixation on blue women, and apparently it's etched into his DNA.

Your name is JANE. As was previously mentioned, you are poised for an ELITE OPPORTUNITY to test the SBURB ALPHA. It is so elite in fact, you are the only of your kind invited to playtest!

Jane is the only member of her 'kind' to be given a copy of Sburb, which implies that there are other kinds of people on this version of Earth. Crocker is confirmed to not be a human, so maybe the planet is also populated by whatever kind of creature she is.

Though you guess that probably comes with the territory of being the HEIRESS APPARENT TO A BAKED GOODS EMPIRE. You don't suppose it hurts that you are said empire's NUMBER ONE FANGIRL, either!

She practically worships the Crocker megacorporation - and even worse, she's being raised to lead the damn thing. Jane might actually be starting out as an antagonist to our original heroes, completely unaware that she's being shaped into a weapon against them.

In short: Jesus Christ, Jane. We need to get you out of here.

You fancy yourself a SKILLED PRANKSTRESS, if by no other measure than lineage.

I guess Nannasprite's mischievous nature wasn't derived solely from the jester doll.

It's sweet to imagine Jane learning the prankster's arts from her Grandpa John - but I am extremely worried for Grandpa John right now, so I can't even enjoy it.

You once dabbled in AMATEUR BOTANY but found it TOO FRUSTRATING, because your VEGETABLES KEPT DISAP-actually you know what, you DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT.

Growing pumpkins is every horticulturist's first mistake.

You are also pleased to contemplate FRIGHTENING FAUNA, though saddened by their regrettable FAKENESS ATTRIBUTE.

Flora and fauna. I was waiting to see a little of each Player's personality before making Title guesses, and Jane's evoking Life to me, just as her pervious incarnation did.

Now, that would break the apparent rule that Scratch-swapped Players preserve the session's original Aspects, but that rule hasn't been confirmed yet. Plus, Life might just be my Aspect, so I'd love to see it become more prominent in the story.

But none of that's on your mind now, because you are PSYCHED about this SPECIAL DATE, 11.11.11 [...] a date exhibiting just the sort of numerical gimmick corporations love to exploit for their big releases, or for launching MAJOR REBRANDING INITIATIVES. In the case of your CHERISHED MULTIGLOBAL EMPIRE, both such events are slated to happen today.

Wow, so Betty Crocker is already operating on multiple planets?

The more we see of this Earth, the more obvious it becomes that it's nothing like the world our heroes left behind. Everything has changed.

[lusty-stallion]

Plus 3 on a travel coach - Part 2

Part 1

---

One Dad was horrified at his inability to take his eyes off the hunky lads and the debauchery between the now Leather Daddy and young dumb bodybuilder.

Sat with his family next to his wife, he was disgusted that he was getting turned on by the outrageous display.

Turning to look out of the window and holding his wife’s hand, he felt something happen to his clothes and felt a desire to flex.

Worried for the children and for any further transformations to himself, he whispered to his wife “I wish there was a way for us to get the families off this coach!”

And Genie enjoyed answering his wish.

Time rewound a moment as the Dad whispered, “I wish there was a way for us to get only the families off this coach of sex!”

And as if by magic, the coach stopped at the side of a resort, complete with water park and plenty of family entertainment.

Without the usual grief kids give parents, all the kids and their mums moved first, as the dads were still struggling to stop purveying the young lovers at the back of the coach, finally tearing their eyes away as they departed the coach. The confused coach driver in his 50s helped unload all the families belongings before stepping onto the coach with trepidation as to what was to come, a glance at the hunky lads at the back before setting off again.

As the Dad who’d made the wish stepped toward the park, he flexed again. His wife commented that while she loved him showing off, he really should put a shirt on. He opened his case and couldn’t find any shirts. He made his way to the resort's clothing store, stopping to flex for anyone who looked like they wanted a show, and purchased a particularly small t-shirt, which he guessed would fit him. Flexing as he passed the mirrors, and then the security guard who looked impressed, he walked back to his wife, pulled the shirt on only to witness it dissolve into nothing, his whole body involuntarily flexing a pose once more.

A gay hunk walking passed him with his boyfriend witnessed the moment, and decided he had to see it happen again, and whisked off his tank top and said “Here you go man, maybe this will help.” Thanking the hunk, the Dad tried on the other man’s tank top only to watch it dissolve again, this time giving his well-worked pecs a bounce to the hunk and his boyfriend's delight.

“I’m sorry love” he said turning to his wife, I don’t know what’s happened to me, but whatever happened on the coach seems to make wearing tops impossible, and I seriously can’t help showing off.

His wife had always been a long suffering women, who deeply loved her man. They would soon discover that he was incapable of wearing shirts for the rest of his life, and he would work hard to retain his very muscular frame well into his 70s, continuing to show off to anyone who would watch. All due to one of the lads wishing that he’d enjoy showing off his body all the time, and Genie adding ‘without a shirt’ to the lad’s wish.

As soon as the coach took off again, it was like a heavy, musky aphrodisiac descended on the coach, thick and cloying, and everyone was suddenly horny as hell. The air crackled with barely suppressed lust.

There were still a good number of straight couples on the coach, who started touching each other up with increasing urgency, their hands moving up and down legs, groping and heavy petting escalating quickly. Moans and gasps filled the air as they fumbled with buttons and zippers, desperate for release.

The same occurred to other groupings of friends, who until that moment had never felt any attraction toward each other. But many found themselves pondering the attractiveness of their pal, their eyes lingering on bulging biceps and tight abs, their minds filled with forbidden thoughts.

Everyone’s need for sex was palpable, a thick, suffocating blanket of lust that permeated every corner of the coach.

One gay man named Stan, a man of Afro-American heritage, had spent much of the journey so far subtly eyeing up the man across from him. Well-styled brown hair, brown sexy eyes on a square-jawed face. His skin was beautiful, and so was his body. Well worked in the gym, this guy was active all the time and looked after himself. Stan had been horny for this guy since getting on the coach, well before the wish, thinking about what this hunk would do to him in bed if only he was his lover. The sexy guy’s girlfriend was currently reaching inside his jeans, a bit concerned by his regular snatching of glances at the lads at the back. Stan’s wish burst from his mouth, a desperate plea fuelled by pent-up desire.

“I wish that sexy guy was my lover!”

And time scratched back, the universe bending to Stan's will, fuelled by Genie's mischievous touch: “I wish that sexy dumb guy was my musky alpha lover!”

The girlfriend looked at him in repulsion as he almost screamed his wish at her athletic boyfriend, who looked shocked and sickened, before his transformation began.

His already well-worked body became beefier, his muscles swelling and straining against his clothes. He retained his agility, but gained at least 60 lbs of muscle across his upper body, his pecs becoming hard, defined slabs, his arms bulging with newfound power. As his eyes locked onto Stan, his sharp eyes boring into him, before becoming blunter, the spark of curiosity and understanding dimming to that of a man who cared more about his next workout and fuck than the concerning metamorphosis rewriting his potential future permanently. His intellect seemed to recede, replaced by a primal hunger.

He felt a tickle across his body as all pubic hair thickened into manly bushes, a thick, dark forest of coarse hair that hinted at the animalistic desires lurking beneath the surface. His shaved skin was covered with a thick pelt, a layer of fine, dark hair that held his deep, musky scent, capable of even driving straight men into his arms. The air around him crackled with pheromones, a potent cocktail of lust and dominance.

And then understanding dawned on his slower mind, as he recognized his lover, the man across from him who he loved to toss onto their bed and punish his hole. A primal urge to dominate and possess washed over him.

Acknowledging that Stan’s wish had done something to him, he said, his voice now deeper and rougher, “I wish my boy was a beefy cub now!”

Zip!

“I wish my house boy was a beefy hairy gym cub now!”

And Stan welcomed his lover's desires manifesting across his body. The pressure which built in his arms pressing his biceps out, his chest pushing, and a healthy layer of fat covered what would otherwise have been a trim core, accentuating his abs, but allowing him to retain his ‘cuddlier’ buff appearance. His body softened, becoming more yielding, more submissive, a perfect canvas for his new alpha lover to claim. His own scent changed, becoming sweeter, more inviting, a siren's call to his dominant partner.

Stan, now a beefy, hairy gym cub, felt his cheeks flush as his new alpha lover, the former straight guy, locked eyes with him. The raw desire in those eyes sent a shiver down Stan's spine, a mixture of fear and excitement coursing through his veins. Another topless hunk came up behind Stan and started kissing his cheek.

The girlfriend grasped her man’s face and said “Jed, what’s going on?”. Jed looked at her with a confused glaze covering his eyes. “Emmmm, sorry chick you’re not really my type.”

The former girlfriend, now completely forgotten, watched in horror as her ex-boyfriend grabbed Stan by the collar, yanking him forward with surprising force. Stan landed in his lap with a thud, his soft, muscular body pressed against the hard, bulging thighs of his alpha lover.

"You did this to me," the alpha lover growled, his voice a deep, guttural rumble that vibrated through Stan's body. "Now you're going to pay the price."

Stan whimpered, his eyes wide with fear. He knew exactly what the alpha lover meant. He had seen the way he looked at him, the way his eyes had devoured his body, the way his hands had clenched into fists, as if itching to grab him and claim him as his own.

Without warning, the alpha Jed ripped Stan's shirt open, the buttons flying off and scattering across the floor. Stan's soft, hairy chest was exposed, his nipples hard and erect. The alpha lover's eyes darkened with lust as he reached out and pinched one of Stan's nipples, causing him to gasp in pain and pleasure.

"You're mine now," the alpha lover said, his voice dripping with possessiveness. "And I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk."

He leaned down and began to lick and suck on Stan's nipples, his tongue swirling around them in a tantalizing dance. Stan moaned, his body arching against the alpha lover's. He couldn't help himself. He was completely under his spell, a helpless pawn in his lustful game.

The woman burst into tears, much to the distraction of some of the nearer passengers. One straight guy, grappling with his aching cock, took the opportunity to swoop in to rescue the woman from her misery. As he approached her as the coach continued along the road, he confidently walked up to her and said “Hey there baby doll, I can be everything he was to you and more.” She looked up at the handsome man reviled by yet more masculine bravado, and she said “Leave us women alone. I wish you never approach another woman again.”

Time rolled back those last seconds as she locked eyes with the horny man, “I wish you never approach another woman again, always fucking men!.”

Surprised at herself, she watched as the man stepped back from her and surveyed the dumbass muscle hound stripping his cub, and he longed for that kind of action.

He spotted his buddy Trent and for the first time realised how attractive he was. They’d worked out together for years and built strong athletic bodies. And that’s when he remembered his buddy’s smaller than average cock. A smirk crept across his face, the woman’s angry wish ringing in his ears as he formed quickly a wish to realize his desires.

“I wish Trent was the fittest powerlifter in the city, with the biggest cock.”

Genie snapped his fingers and time reset as he wished “I wish Trent was the fittest gay powerlifter in the city, with the biggest cock hungry ass.”

Trent couldn’t quite hear every word, but noticed his pal was looking strangely hungry. A primal hunger that sent shivers down his spine.

And then he felt it. His lats felt like they were on fire, as did his bis and tris. His lower back started to feel over-encumbered as his upper body exploded in incredible muscle. He knew he was the fittest powerlifter, with legs which were perfect for running long distances. And then something strange happened with his glutes. They seemed to be expanding in his seat. They seemed to puff out, still pure muscle, but big, glorious globes begging for kneading and playing with.

And then a new desire erupted inside him, a burning, insatiable need to be filled. His cock remained hard, but he was less aware of it. He didn’t even notice it shrink another couple of inches. He just needed someone to ravage him deep inside, rubbing his aching prostate with pleasure. He desired calloused, muscular hands to work his ass before filling him with a meat stick of massive proportions. He was sure he could take any length and girth of manhood, and he was ready to try all the men in the world to find the biggest out there.

As his pal returned to his seat, Trent spun around, thrusting his newly enlarged booty into the air, presenting himself like a goddamn offering. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes glazed with lust.

"Spank me, stud," he moaned, his voice thick with desire. "Punish me for being such a bad boy."

He reached behind and grabbed his own ass cheeks, spreading them wide for his friend's inspection.

"Look at this hungry ass," he purred. "It's begging for your attention. It needs to be filled with your hot, hard cock."

He leaned back against his friend's legs, his ass grinding against his crotch.

"Please, baby," he begged. "I can't take it anymore. I need you inside me. I need to feel you stretching me, filling me, owning me."

He reached behind and took his friend's hand, guiding it towards his throbbing ass.

"Touch me," he whispered. "Feel how wet I am. Feel how much I want you."

He closed his eyes and moaned as his friend's fingers began to explore his ass, teasing his hole, driving him wild with anticipation.

"Fuck me, baby," he begged. "Fuck me hard and make me your bitch."

The woman who had made the wish watched in stunned silence, her tears forgotten. She had unleashed a force of nature, a torrent of repressed desires that could no longer be contained.

The other passengers watched in a mixture of shock, arousal, and envy, their own desires stirring within them.

And it continued. One man, with his girl riding the full length of his cock, couldn’t shake the image of the lusty lads, and cried out “I wish girls were as sexy as those hunky horny lads.”

And Genie snapped back time

“I wish girls on this coach were as sexy as those hunky horny lads.”

Genie was careful, he’d be in trouble with the deities if he granted world-changing wishes, not to mention the lack of continued joy he’d be able to get through the diversity of his wishes. After all, world-changing wishes tend to stamp a uniformity across the world, which is highly undesirable to Genies.

And the guy was not disappointed when his girlfriend’s bra melted away around his new full pecs. His new balls were resting on the boyfriend's belly as he continued thrusting into his partner, although his cock was now in his partner's fine ass, rather than their previous genitalia.

A guttural moan escaped his lips as his breasts hardened into pecs, his hips narrowed, and his clit elongated into a throbbing cock. The sensation was overwhelming, his mind filled with pleasure and confusion. He felt a surge of primal energy coursing through his veins, with a fresh desire to dominate and control.

There were a few moans of surprise, but happy acceptance as all the remaining women became young, sexy late teens with chiselled frat boy bodies and a taste for immature jokes. Their clothes strained against their new muscles, their bras bursting open to reveal sculpted pecs, their hips narrowing, their curves hardening into lean, athletic frames.

Grunts of surprised gasps and excited whoops filled the coach as the former women surveyed their new bodies. They flexed their biceps, admired their chiselled abs, and ran their hands over their newly formed cocks.

"Holy shit," one of them exclaimed, his voice now deeper and more resonant, "this is fucking awesome!"

"I feel like I could bench press a fucking truck!" another one shouted, flexing his massive pecs.

"Check out my dick!" a third one yelled, grabbing his throbbing cock and giving it a playful tug. "It's bigger than my ex's!"

A wave of homoerotic energy washed over the coach as the newly transformed men began to eye each other with newfound lust. They exchanged suggestive glances, flexed their muscles, and whispered dirty jokes.

One of the new men, emboldened by his transformation, grabbed his former lesbian girlfriend and pulled him close.

"Hey, babe," he purred, his voice now dripping with testosterone, "wanna try out my new equipment?"

He leaned in and kissed his former girlfriend, his tongue exploring his mouth with a brand-new intensity. The kiss quickly escalated into a passionate make-out session, both their new male bodies grinding against each other, their hands exploring every inch of their newly transformed physiques.

The other new young lads, fuelled by their newborn desires, began to pair off, their hands groping and grabbing, their mouths locked in passionate grips. Genie surveyed his masterpiece. This once ordinary coach of randomers heading to a camping destination had been transformed into viral men looking to hook up, without any other cares in the world.

--

Jed's hands roamed down Stan’s body, kneading the soft flesh of his newly acquired cub physique. He squeezed Stan's pecs, enjoying the way they jiggled in his hands. He traced the outline of Stan's abs, marvelling at the layer of fat that covered them, giving them a softer, more inviting feel. He reached down and cupped Stan's balls, feeling the heavy weight of them in his palm.

"You're so soft," Jed said, his voice thick with lust. "I want to make you harder."

He began to rub Stan's cock through his pants, his fingers teasing and tormenting him. Stan groaned, his body trembling with anticipation. He could feel his cock growing hard, straining against the fabric of his jeans.

Jed pulled back, his eyes burning with desire. He reached down and unbuckled Stan's belt, his fingers fumbling with the zipper. He pulled down Stan's pants, revealing his hard, throbbing cock.

"Oh, fuck," Jed said, his voice barely a whisper. "You're so beautiful."

He leaned down and began to suck on Stan's cock, his mouth enveloping it completely. Stan moaned, his body shaking with pleasure. He closed his eyes and let himself be consumed by the sensation, his mind blank, his body on fire.

Jed sucked on Stan's cock with increasing intensity, his tongue swirling around the head, his teeth gently nipping at the shaft. Stan's moans grew louder, his body arching and twisting in ecstasy. He could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge, his body trembling with anticipation.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He let out a loud, guttural cry as he came in Jed's mouth, his body convulsing with pleasure. Jed swallowed his cum, his eyes never leaving Stan's.

"That was just the beginning," Jed said, his voice rough and demanding. "Now it's my turn."

He stood up and pulled down his own pants, revealing his massive, throbbing cock. It was thick and veiny with newfound alpha status. Stan's eyes widened in awe as he took in the sight of it.

Jed grabbed Stan by the hips and pulled him close, his cock pressing against Stan's ass. Stan gasped, his body tingling with anticipation. He knew what was coming, and he couldn't wait.

Jed thrust his cock into Stan's ass, his body shaking with pleasure. Stan moaned, his body arching and twisting in ecstasy. He wrapped his arms around Jed's neck and held on tight, his body completely consumed by the sensation.

Jed fucked Stan hard and fast, his body pounding into him with relentless force. Stan's moans grew louder, his body shaking with pleasure. He could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge, his body trembling with anticipation.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He let out a loud, guttural cry as he came in Jed's ass, his body convulsing with pleasure. Jed continued to fuck him, his body pounding into him with unrelenting force.

After what seemed like an eternity, Jed finally came as well, his body shaking with pleasure. He collapsed on top of Stan, his body heavy and exhausted.

They lay there for a long time, their bodies intertwined, their breaths ragged and uneven. Finally, Jed rolled off of Stan, his body still trembling with pleasure.

"That was amazing," Jed said, his voice barely a whisper. "I've never felt anything like that before."

Stan smiled, his body still tingling with pleasure. He knew that this was just the beginning of their new life together, a life filled with lust, desire, and endless depravity.

[hurtspideyparker]

a series of unsent letters between Steve and Tony after Civil War:

Dear Steve,

Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you.

Sincerely,

Tony

—

Dear Tony,

Why are you always so sad my love? In another life I am there to kiss every frown and tear, my hands hold your face till we are one, till you consume me and my every breath, till my thoughts are spoken in the rhythm of your lips. No matter the scorn you hold for me, know that I am yours. Irrevocably.

Sincerely,

Steve Rogers

—

Steve,

You're such a conniving, heartless, scheming, pompous little asshole. How many nights did we share a bed and you kept that secret? Did you even lose sleep, even think about how I deserved to know, or did you just think about your old pal? Sorry I was a little upset about the whole murdered mom thing, really dampened the good mood you had going with your centenarian brainwashed assassin.

Fuck you, and fuck Barnes, but especially fuck you.

Tony

—

Darling,

Know I never wanted to hurt you. If I could I'd carry your pain and loss all on my own shoulders, I'd carry the sky, carry the moon and every star till they died and I'd watch the nebula embrace me with all its remarkable light and color, and in my last moment I'd think how it was almost as beautiful as you.

Yours,

Steve Rogers

—

Steve,

I hope you're miserable. I hope there's bedbugs in your sheets, your shower runs out of hot water, and the bagel you wanted to eat for breakfast is moldy. I hope you stub your dumb toes, and weep every night missing your hunk of metal. Trip into a ditch you piece of shit.

Tony

—

Dearest,

The warmth of my coffee reminds me of your joy. I lived there once. In the stretch of your lips, the gasp of your contentment, the sparkle in your waterline like the wishing fountain I thought was magic as a kid. I wish I still resided there, so I could track the way your crow’s feet deepen every day and fall further into the cracks till it was all I knew. I’d read your laugh lines like the Bible my darling.

Yours,

Steve Rogers

—

Steve,

I can't remember the shade of your eyes. It's been killing me for days. I know they're blue, I know, but I just. Did they have green? Were they pale? More like the sky or the ocean? This is how I get over you right, I forget things like the tightness of your hugs and the deepness of your voice in the morning. It's a good thing, moving on. So why do I feel like you're dying?

Tony

—

My love,

I have drawings, hidden, of someplace for just the two of us. The wood detailing I love, and the open floor you love. Smaller than you're used to but I think you'd like that. A workspace for you, a bathtub for me, and a garden for us both to mess up. I think we could have run away together, and found quiet in the woods. I'm sorry we never got there.

Yours,

Steve Rogers

—

Read the full fic on AO3

[stanleyalone]

◇(Introduction)◇

"...Hello? Is this thing on?

If anyone's out there, on whatever stations this thing has-it looks like it only has one??- My name's......uh...

My names... Lee. Nothin more you gotta know than that. I've been sailing the mighty ocean for maybe... five or six years? I dunno, I lost my calendar last month. But anyways, that's not important.

I found this shabby old radio in my nets a few days ago, and shockingly, the old hunk of metal works! Never knew the atlantic had that sorta sea life. It kinda felt like finding treasure, just without the map or the pirates, or-!

Uh. Well. What was i saying...? Oh, right!

The purpose of this message is, well...nothing fancy. Guess ive...been getting kinda lonley out here, you know? I'm doing good, don't get me wrong! But, uhm. The fish don't make good conversation. And, uh. You can only talk to your reflection so many times before ya run outta stories, haha. Plus, can you imagine the shit this radios endured? It's insane it's still functional! Seems like some sorta sign.

I guess I'm just casting this message out to see if anyone's out there, if anyone wants to just chat, or something, like two old pals who have absolutely no idea who each other are. And hey, maybe we can exchange a few stories...? Or, or not- that's stupid. I'm loosin my marbles out here!

......

Oh, right, it's still on, uh... Well, fellow sailors or gorgeous women in my area, I hope the seas are treating you well! I gotta go prepare for the up and coming storm, but I'll leave this junk on, if anyone's listening. Cya for now!

....Oh, and, Six? if you're out there, i hope you're doin alright.

Moses, I hope this doesn't go wrong somehow..."

(ooc message under cut)

(OOC: Heya, @cheeseinthesea here, otherwise known as clover/cheese! I'm the clown running this whole circus! If you already read the description, you have some info already. But here's a bit more on this au/askblog if your curious:

In this AU, Stanley and ford still had their fight, but the portal was never activated. After the dust cleared, Stanley agreed to take the journal and leave after seeing how much this affected ford. He gave up his life to fix Fords, as he saw it. However, rather than burying Journal 1, he holds onto it and simply sails, believing nowhere he leaves it will be safe enough.(he wants to do something worth while.) He's ditched the life of crime in order to keep it safe, living off of fishing and the occasional pickpocketing in towns. He's presumed dead by most in this universe given his silence.

One morning, he fished up a radio from the sea. In this case, the people on the other end of the radio are asks! the radio is like...weird. you know. idk man if you want more specifics I can dive into it sometime

To be honest, I wasn't planning on making this a serious thing, but the idea plauged me, so here we are. A few base rules, though;

1. Again, this doesn't have to be serious! You can make asks as silly or as serious, complex or as simple as you want. You can be from any Fandom or no Fandom, you can give stanley stuff if you want, ect ect ect. Go wild! Hell, break onto his ship and give this horrid rat of a man a heart attack at age 36/silly. I dont have a plot or anything for this au, so like. genuienly fuck it we ball.(also, asks with images will just be like a photo appearing out of thin air. I thought too much in this.)

2. Pleasee.try to keep things appropriate. I am not comfortable with sexual topics or implications (jokes are fine but within reason. Be snart)

..that's all I can think of actually HFBHS. If you want to ask me specifically a question, address the question to Clover/Cheese and I'll respond in blue. Also, for the record, I.. I only got into gravity falls like. A month ago. Walks away sadly/lhj. So my interpretation of him may be a bit off, but that's why I wanted to start with an au rather than just a Canon interpretation in case they feed me to the wolves ,

(In character asks will be tagged with sailors-log! ooc stuff will just be clover-talks. I made this. Two days ago and have been working on it periodically.)

☆Bon Voyage!!!☆

(Also, go check out my main blog if you want! I post art. And talk a bit sometime!)

Pfp by: @lamplightideas

[gabbbyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy]

Tnmn AU idea: UNL1K3LY.

A very creative logo here, i know.

CHARACTERS (w/ subtle premise mentions)!!

Mask Clown/“Anon”

(Will be addressed as “Anon” until a canon name is provided by NachoSama)

Early-mid 30s, Mechanic/Engineer

Just some strange guy in his apartment that builds cool and silly little things—before meeting the Nightmare Clown that is…

Rather than spending his days passing out papers about evil nightmare clowns and the secrets of the D.D.D. As his basegame counterpart, this man is an engineer/mechanic who holds no affiliation with the D.D.D. Whatsoever, and just so happened to encounter the Nightmare Clown/“Unlikely” one night after a long day of work (the rest being history)

Became close with the Nightmare Clown, through game-playing, and chatting about the mortal realm, something that the paracosm-borne clown seemed to be heavily interested in…

Likes robots. A lot.

Chester Titor

Early 50s, Farmer Programmer/Engineer

A grumpy next door neighbor, gone wacky time-traveling sci-fi loving 22nd century cyborg, as a result of a sudden Alien abduction just a few months before.

Ever since the abduction, Chester and Anon became close pals, teacher and apprentice, helping him with his inventions, lending tips, and even assisting him in building a robot…a suspiciously clown-shaped robot

Is also affiliated with Unlikely, having met him and a few times, and even helping Anon out with building a surprise for the clown…

Also likes robots. A lot (as well as having more knowledge on the subject)

next up, is Unlikely…

…

Correction…

UNL1K3LY

The same, bad good ol’ Unlikely, now piloting a direct metal replica of himself! (Now with a slightly higher amount of loose screws!)

The once widely feared cognitohazard/nightmare, now possesses this hunk of steel, he’s a little clumsy, but he’s getting the hang of it (his “soul” can retract itself from the machine, and can be transferred to computers, and other devices such as tvs and gaming consoles.)

Significantly more powerful, his already brutish nature and horrific strength boosted with the help of technology, and the brains of two smartass weirdos and their tools

Can summon holograms of cards, dice, and can even turn your deepest fears into burned in mirages…

Edgy robot stuff aside, he’s prone to glitching and burning out easily, usually from strong emotions of anger, or embarrassment. He also gets feisty during maintenance time. (His wires are…sensitive.)

And for those who are wondering…yes, there are still some parts of him that are considered ‘squishy’, which are his torso, and most of his face, due to a protective silicone layer!

Important notes: the storyline of this AU is in the early 2000s, rather than the 1950s. Characters and ages are the same, the time simply shifted for the Au’s sake.

[who-knew-a-sheep-can-write]

Siren Songs: Arthur Morgan x Siren!Reader

You sneered at the outlines of the men before you, your nails scratching faint lines into the thick glass. Your tail thrashed in the water, kicking up the dirt that sat thick at the bottom. The water tasted odd, like metal had been rusting in it for years, it didn’t taste clean. It made your skin start to ache.

You missed the taste of the sea.

Even in your deepest of dreams, you could still taste the salt on your skin and smell the brine that pooled beneath your body. How long had it been since you and your friends were snatched up from the sea? Years?

You glared at the men who had their backs to you, making sure to avoid eye contact as they laughed and regaled at how much money they had made off of you all. You could still feel the eyes of what looked to be thousands of people staring at you from beyond the thick glass and murky water you were all kept in.

They always made sure to keep the lid on tight, lest another “accident” happens and you all drown and maim another one of their men.

They had made a stop for the night, settling in some little town riddled with filth if the water they had rehomed you in was any clue. They had stashed your tanks in a stable amongst the four-legged beasts they call horses. Your heart tugged; Some of them were in the same shit show you were in: Forced to perform for the masses because of how different you were from humans. At least they could taste fresh air and even fresher waters.

Your eyes remained pinned on the men before you, narrowing your eyes and wrinkling your nose when one would turn to look at you before laughing with his “pals” only for them all to erupt in laughter.

“Come away from there,” one of your friends called. “It’ll do you no good just staring at them like that.”

A bitter taste settled at the back of your throat as you finally let go of the glass.

Just as you turned to swim towards your friends, the stable doors suddenly were yanked open.

“Dutch, are ya sure ye know what yer doin’?” Arthur didn’t even look over to the other men to his side.

He drew his bandana over his nose and unholstered his revolver as the older man just chuckled.

“Arthur, my boy, think of how much money we’d be gettin’ from this! In no time, we’ll be off in T-”

“Arthur’s right,” Hosea piped up. Dutch shot him a look. “They are dangerous creatures. They’ll think we’re just like their captors. One wrong move and we’re all goners.”

“It’s too late to back out now.”

Dutch unholstered his own revolver and started towards the stable that shockingly wasn’t very guarded.

Arthur followed close behind, eyeing the carts holding dangerous wild animals who eyed them all like they were walking hunks of meat ripe for eating. A shiver ran down his spine at the memory of that damned lion for Margaret that nearly took him down for good. Arthur snuck around the carts with Lenny and John while Dutch, Hosea and Micah took to the front.

A few shots rang out before Arthur and the others raced towards the front doors, already seeing a few bodies on the floor while Dutch had the rest getting on their knees.

“What is it? Money? We can give ya money!” one of the men pleaded.

They were all dressed nicely, better than anyone he’s ever seen in Saint Denis. They had to be from somewhere like New York City with clothes like that; Rich silks that were getting dirty from kneeling on the grimy floorboards covered in horse dung and God knows what else.

“Although ‘m honored for the offer, you fellows have somethin’ else I’ve had my eye on for awhile now,” Dutch smirked.

“Take it! It’s yours! Just let us go!” another of the men pleaded.

“Where are you fellows keepin’ the sirens?”

All of their eyes widened at the question.

“Wh- You can’t! They’re our star attraction!”

Dutch cocked the revolver and pressed it against the man’s forehead, the poor bastard was sweating through his expensive linens to the point where he could smell that pompous aftershave and cologne from where he stood.

“I ain’t askin’ again, gentlemen. The sirens?”

“There’s a wagon there,” Micah sneered, motioning towards the back of the stable with his gun. “What’s in it?”

Just the look on Micah’s face made Arthur want to silence him. Hell, everything Micah did made him want to shoot him dead where he stood.

“Arthur, go check it out,” Dutch motioned to the wagon.

Arthur swallowed thickly but slowly peeled away from the rest of the group. He was careful to step towards the wagon, noticing right away on how huge it was and especially how odd-looking it was. It was the same maroon wood with gold accents and wheels locked into place, but instead of large iron bars to keep whatever is in, it was thick glass.

With a lot of scratches on the inside.

Arthur stepped closer, noticing how murky the water was and how it was pushed back into the darkest corner of the stable away from the horses. The water must have felt so cold and disgusting.

At first, he didn’t see anything in the large tank.

And then he saw multiple pairs of eyes cutting through the darkness. Various shades of colors, but the pair of yellow eyes in the front stuck out to him the most. They were judging him, eyeing him up on whether he was prey to them or a predator. He couldn’t blame them, especially after how long those poor things have been in captivity. It made his heart twist in his ribs.

Dutch had been following this entire thing since Blackwater. It was his next big thing besides all of the other “plans” he had in that odd head of his. He was going to steal the sirens from this traveling circus and pawn them off to the highest bidder.

Dutch came up behind Arthur with a lantern in hand and gun ready in the other. His eyes widened at the sight of multiple eyes glowing the in the murky water and raised the lantern to the glass.

The entire pack of them flinched away from the light, but he really only got a good look at the one in front with the yellow eyes. Their scales had started to lose their color so long ago, there was just a faint trace of blue in the dull scales. Overgrown claws that had been neglected, a long tail curled and twisting the water, a wide fin that had little tears at the ends. He could only imagine how the others looked.

It was cruel to keep them in such disgusting conditions.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Dutch gawked. “Let’s get ‘em outta here and back to camp.”

It was late at night when Arthur left the confines of his tent, staring at the tank wagon at the edge of camp and started towards it with a lit lantern in hand. He saw the bodies in the water all huddled together, clinging to the edges on the tank fast asleep. Except for you.

Upon feeling eyes on the tank, your own parted and stared Arthur down as he walked up, a fire lit under his ass and burned him with determination. He saw you tail thrash a bit in the water, your claws sank a bit into the lip of the tank, the gills on your throat flared. You were trying to intimidate him, to drive him away; Yet you didn’t use your voice to do so.

“Why are you here?” your eyes narrowed.

He mulled over his words, his eyes pinned to yours in a hypnotic trance.

“‘M sorry.” Your eyes widened just a bit, your grip on the edge of the tank lessened. “I know you all’ve been through a lot. Made out to be some monsters, gettin’ looked like yer freaks. It ain’t fair to you all.”

He doesn’t know how long the silence enveloped you both. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours; But you softened up and finally let go of your death grip on the tank and freely floated on the water’s surface.

“You’re not… afraid of me?”

“No.”

“Then why are you here?”

Arthur’s throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly. The way your inhuman eyes searched his, the way the sun shimmered off of your dull scales. It made his stomach flutter in an odd way.

“‘M gonna get ya out of this mess.”

[migueloharaslave]

You stood in front of a mirror, tugging on the dress you picked to wear for the night. It has been a couple of months since you've joined alchemex and tonight the company hosted a little reward show to give recognitions to some of the Geneticists for their new discovery in their project.

You hummed as you walked over to the dresser, grabbing one of your vanilla scented perfumes. You gently sprayed the mist on yourself before walking over to the bed, which your boyfriend was stretched across of.

"Okay I'm about to go, do you need anything?" You asked Shawn, with a small smile on yourself. You and Shawn have been together since highschool, you two started dating when you were 16 and now your 24.

"No. I'm good. Go have fun." He muttered as he sat up in the bed, resting his back against the headboard as he continued to text on his phone.

"Okay.." You were expecting some sort of kiss goodbye just like he used to do.. but now he doesn't anymore. Sometimes it feels like Shawn doesn't even love you as much as you love him.

"Well, bye. Love you." You grabbed your purse and walked out the room, closing the door behind you.

You sighed, walking out of your apartment you felt nothing but guilt. Did you do something wrong? Did you say something? What if he isn't interested anymore? All those thoughts bottled up in your chest was ready to spill out.

You felt a lump in your throat and you decided to swallow to get rid of it, you didn't need to be upset about anything right now.

..You stepped into the venue, greeting some of your fellow coworkers as you shared laughs and giggles.

You smiled as you listened to them gossip about this guy.. one of the Geneticist who is apparently a real hot hunk of a man.

"He's supposed to be the lead on this project. I've heard he's single, but he doesn't really seem to be interested in dating." One of your coworkers spoke as she took a sip of her wine.

"No, I've heard rumors of him dating someone.. Whoever she is, she's lucky." Another coworker spoke, and as they continued their conversation you sorta zoned out.. thinking about your boyfriend.

You decided to excuse yourself from the group and went over to the bar. You told the bartender what drink you wanted, and he made it and handed it to you with a warm smile. "Enjoy your drink, Ma'am." He spoke in a tone of class.

And just as you got the drink, ready to walk back to the table with your gal pals, you bump into someone.

"Oh my god.. I am so sorry. I should had been paying attention." You quickly put the glass down and grabbed a napkin to hand it to the man who stood before you.

When you finally looked up at him, your eyes met his.. you stared at those eyes of his.. those dark crimson eyes seemed like something out of a film, something only a man from the dream could have and god his height, he had to be above six feet atleast. That nice bronze skin, slicked back brunette hair, the strong facial structures he had.. those broad shoulders, you could honestly tell he went to the gym.

"No, worries. It's fine, dear." He chuckled softly, taking the napkin and gently dabbing the liquid off of his black blazer. He then crumbled it up and tossing it in a nearby trashcan.

He cleared his throat, holding out his hand to you. "I'm Miguel O'Hara, it's nice to meet you, Ms..?"

You smiled softly as you took his hand into yours, feeling the rough calloused hand of his, you tucked a strand behind your ear as you spoke. "Y/N."

"Pleased to meet you. I haven't seen you around before, are you new?" Miguel spoked as he pulled his hand away, slipping them into the pockets of his dress pants and your eyes couldn't help but follow them.

You looked up at him, "Yes.. I started working here a couple months ago. I'm one of the new research scientists."Miguel looked at you up at down, seeming to be examining you.

"Well.. That's nice. I hope to see you around more now that I know your name, Y/N." The way your named rolled off of his tongue sent a shiver down your spine, you licked your lips as you felt them go dry.

"Yeah.. I'll definitely be looking around for you, yknow since your all.. tall and stuff." You giggled nervously then you furrowed your brows at your words, cringing at how awkward that was. You couldn't even talk to a guy, well a attractive guy at that. Was it weird to find him attractive when you had a whole boyfriend at home? Yes, but it isn't a crime.

Miguel gave you a look that seemed as if he was slightly confused but he just shook it off. "Well, I'll be going now. I'll see you around." He smiled at you one last time before waving and walking off.

You stood there, watching him. You dumbfounded, clenching onto your purse as your heart raced in your chest. You felt as if you wanted to faint not only did you see a most amazing hunk of a man, but you were.. attracted to him.

Just feeling like that for another guy made you feel guilty deep down inside.. you didn't wanna hurt your boyfriend's feelings.. but god that Miguel looked like he could do wonders to your body. Shaking off your wild thoughts you just asked the bartender for a shot of vodka, you grabbed the glass and gulped it down within in a second and sat it down. You whispered a small thank you and walked away, looking around you found your little clique again.

"Y/N! We were just talking about you." The girl laughed as you joined them at the table. You sat down at the table with them at a empty spot looking around, as your attention was soon drawn to the stage when you saw someone walking on up to a podium. "I was just looking around.. that's all." You said softly as you looked at her with a small smile.

Suddenly, the lights dimmed and the attention was focused on the stage to a man with a mic, "Welcome everyone. Tonight is a big night! We're recognizing our amazing geneticist team and their new project. Their job working on this project for months really paid off and it opened up a new path for more studies to occur. Now, will Miguel O'Hara and his team come to the stage." Your throat went dry at the mention of his name, was he the guy your coworkers were not too long gossiping about? You watched as he stepped onto the stage along with four other people and they smiled as they stood on stage behind him and he adjusted his tie.

Miguel placed those calloused hands against the side of the podium, leaning down to speak in the mic. "Thank you to everyone for the support on this project. It has been stressful these past few months while we worked on it, but we managed to get through it as a team. Teamwork is a major factor in this company, it's what keeps the creativity flowing and more ideas being produced. Thank you to my team for working on this project with me, although it took a lot of convincing.. and thank you to corporate for funding this project, it is highly appreciated. Hopefully this will open new doors for not only us, but also the new generation of scientist on their way. Thank you."

You sat there and clapped after that speech of his, you weren't really focused on what he was saying.. only on his voice, the way his deep voice sounds, the little rasp within it. Something about it drove you crazy.

...After more scientist got their recognition, along with hours of talking to random people you finally got home. You groaned as you walked into your apartment, kicking your heels off. "I'm home!" You called out to your boyfriend. You heard rumbling coming from the room so you went to go check and see what he was doing.

"Are you okay?" You asked as you walked into the room, looking around. Your bed was a little messy, but it looked like Shawn was sleeping by the way he was just casually laying under the sheets.

"Yeah! I'm fine. Didn't think you were coming home early." He chuckled, he stood up and walked over to you. He was in his boxers, which were something he usually didn't sleep in. You were taking off your jewelry and then you started to take off your makeup.

"I was too tired to stay for the after party stuff." You muttered as you looked up at him, you stood up walking up to the mirror next to your closet and he quickly followed you. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing.. I just wanna follow you around." He smiled as he leaned against the closet door. He licked his lips as he watched you take your hair out of the bun you pinned it up in.

"Well, I'm gonna shower now." You smiled at him and pecked a kiss on his cheek. You walked out the room, and when he heard the shower start running he immediately open the closet door and as expected, there was a half naked girl.

"Jenni, Go before she finds out. Hurry up." He hissed softly as he shooed her out of the apartment.

(ERM THIS IS MY FIRST FANFIC OBVIOUSLY ITS NOT GONNA BE GOOD BUT MY FRIENDS LIKED IT AND YEAH SO THIS IS IT PLEASE GIVE FEEDBACK, ADVICE, AND MAYBE IDEAS FOR PART TWO 😜)

[ask-postcrash-curly]

hey, sir curlsalot

i would tell you how worried i am for you but.. you're already scared enough i imagine,, oh and don't worry about the wasp mafia. we got everything settled, hah..

...

...

i like to think that maybe one day, when you get home, we'll all be down here to see you. yeah, even the ones from the future,, even the ones who aren't really "people", like me. i imagine we'll all be there.

and we'll have this big welcome home party, and we'll all help pay for the expenses of your medical bills.. your therapy, your accommodations, whatnot..

i like to think you'll be happy then. and then you'll have your own place suited to your needs...

mum and kestrel will visit.. lucien can come by for play dates.. and sakonji can visit and bring you nice meals.

...

hey, wouldn't it be funny if i was a service dog or something? some big ol' hunking labrador named bug. can you imagine?

hah! imagine if that's what the deal with all the other buggy buddies are.. a little chihuahua named flea. a weiner dog named grub. a black shih-tzu named spider.. that'd be funny, huh?

...

and,,

and we'll all be sitting out somewhere late at night with the moon in the sky

a real moon with no dead pixels

and,,

and you won't hurt so much anymore

that's what matters to me the most i think

that one day you won't hurt anymore

...

yeah

that's what matters to me the most

- 🐞

Hah. Hey, Bug.

I'm really okay. Scared, sure, but not as bad as it's been. No more panic attacks here, I hope. Glad everything's been settled with the, uh, wasp pals.

I like to think that too. As strange as it sounds, with you all being from other worlds. Maybe somehow.

Pfft. That's sweet of you to say, Bug. I couldn't ask you lot to do all that, even if it were possible.

My own place, huh? Now that's hard to believe... I have to admit something. When I think of going home, the two most obvious options are either living with my parents, or living at some sort of assisted care facility. Hate the second option. Not what I want. As for the first, I... don't know. I don't want to hurt them every time they look at me. And... Of course I don't want them to, but... they're never going to understand. That could be hard. ...I'll focus on getting there first, I guess.

God. Yeah. That... Play dates? Hah. Sure. And Sakonji with nice meals...

That would be bloody hilarious. If I get a dog with your name on its collar I'll assume it's you, somehow. Hah.

All of you dogs? Even Pickles? Damn.

...

That sounds... really good.

No more pain. No more pixels.

Thank you, Bug. That's... that's good.

[awkwardarmadildo]

SPOILERS FOR THE WHOLE REIGATE SQUIRE EPISODE !!!

here are my favorite quotes and bits from both parts (m=mariana, s=sherlock, j=john, w=wiggins, a=rich little pissboy) [excuse all the emojis, i think theyre funny and they help me get the tone across better]

m: "whos a beautiful, weird smelly boy? thats right, thats you! uee!🥰😍😙😄"

the entire introduction handwriting bit actually theyre so silly and goofy i love them so fucking much bro

s: "what is this 🤨? some kind of code 😲... a cipher😮... its ineligible but it has patterns😯... similarities in its form😲... what could it mean 🤔?" m: "...its johns handwriting" s: "😮‍💨 ah."

s: "youve taken me to a loud marketplace 😐. full of people shouting and strong smelling foods 😑" j: [allistic sputtering]

j: "youre supposed to be resting" s: "mhmm" j: "you are though ☹️" s: "oh i know that" j: "then dont say it. mkay? dont even think it" s: "dont say what?" j: "😠 i 😠 know 😠 what 😠 you 😠 are 😠 about 😠 to 😠 say 😠" s: "not about to say anything 😇" j: "good" s: "fine" j: "lovely" s: "splendid 🙂" *typing sounds* j: "what are you doing?" s: "sending... a message" *message notification* j: "oh i-... from you 😒... the game is afoot- uahhhh" s: [voice getting smaller as he runs away] "i told you i wouldnt say it! 😁😊😌"

s: "a hunk. a dish. a ssssstud. a certified BeefCake." j: "oh, don’t say beefcake ☹️" m: [whistles] "yum!" j: "oia-! dont say yum! 😟☹️😠"

the bit at about 25:45 - 26:00 in the first part. just imagining a mix of someone chasing after their dog when they hear it chewing on something it shouldnt be and "what d'you have?" "a knife!" "NO!"

s: "watson here is one of the most capable medical practitioners london can offer 😤 i am in safe hands" j: "yeah youre delirious, im calling an ambulance😒🙄"

j: "yeah, well, y'know. id rather you went home and stopped collapsing, but Here We Are 😒😠" s: "fine 🫤😒. ʰᵉˡˡᵒ"

j: "aaaa ow! that-! she pinched me ☹️😣😥! *turning and pouting at the small child while pointing at sherlock* 'scuse me! i didnt steal the swing, he did 😠😤!"

j: "lets go 'nd betray this old mans trust... ✨️ t o g e t h e r ✨️😊😚☺️"

w: "sherlock pal"

w: "i sure did"

w: "hey johnny boy, how ya doin"

w: "nice to meet ya mariana, heard lovely things"

w: "from sherlock"

every word out of wiggins mouth

every noise wiggins makes

wiggins

s: "the temperature of your bollocks are not my concern. it is alec cunninghams bollocks that i am interested in" j: "*into the mic, likely while making a stupid face* you heard it here first folks"

a: "forrester- get off- call my dad. call my dad right now-" m: "nobody needs to call their dad, alec 😒 were not in the playground 🙄"

a: "NOOOOOO 😨😢😟" s: "yyyyes ☺️🤗😇"

a: [sad little rich man whimpering]

i actually kinda liked colin he was kinda funny to me because i would have to be bleeped just as much as he was lmfao. sometimes people say fuck

[bloodmoon-eito]

Oh dang, you can see us? That sucks. I wonder if Sirei would let us project as something... less disgusting to you. Or even just let us send fancy letters instead. Heh, it'd be like being pen pals. Minus the pals part, judging by your reactions so far.

"I doubt talking to Sirei would do anyone any good. He probably just wants me to suffer and experiment on me after Takumi ratted me out for my plans. It's clear that Sirei listens to nobody but himself and his cowardly higher-ups. We're all just toy soldiers in his sandbox battlefield. The others are blind to the truth, but I see right through him." Eito's eyelid twitches. "Makes you really wish I crushed that hunk of scrap metal under the heel of my boot, huh?"

Eito relaxes his tensed shoulders. "Since you all hide away in your little corner of space on the Artificial Satellite, sending physical letters probably isn't going to be feasibly possible. Maintaining long distance communication with a non-instant method just doesn't jive with the current age of technological advancements. And before you say anything more with that horrid voice, no, internet access is strictly forbidden. For me, at least. They know that knowledge gives me strength."

[xxanaduwrites]

DOWNFALL | a.b.

main hub of all important thangs

chapter 6

got your hands at the back of my soul and the more that i show you the more i'm afraid that you're gonna wake up and realize i'm not the one — paranoid, lauv

——

Butthead's snazzy shirt stared at me for an entire week.

After the superhero moves I pulled a few days ago with my sidekick — or maybe I was the sidekick and he was the main hero, considering how he was saving me the entire time — I got back to work an exhausted wreck.

Levi — wanting to throw Dax in the back dumper, as he so beautifully put it — needed a good gossip fix to make up for the pain he endured the entire time I was gone. Like a whole reporter on the scope, he barreled every question he could think of, while continuously going on about how fucking tiny the world was. How it was crazy the universe just threw us back together like that — that it was a sign.

Superstitious Jeans.

He also flipped the fuck out when he realized I was wearing Austin's shirt. Of course, his mind quickly went in the gutter, assuming we fucked around to which I immediatly denied. Even when I tried explaining the whole coffee shabackle, his smirk and knowing eyes that really knew absolutely nothing — didn't buy a word I said.

It was like I was talking to an entire brick wall.

"You can say whatever you want." He told me. "But I saw the way that hunk so smoothly caught my keys and then caught you. Y'all were staring at each other for a solid minute."

I wanted to throw myself on the floor, roll over, and dissolve into the floorboards.

Seeing where Levi's perspective on the matter lied, I was grateful Austin had texted me first when I was in the lot. Saved me the trouble of ever bringing it up to Jeans and giving that boy ideas. With my luck, Levi — being the wingman he loved to be — would totally take my phone when I wasn't looking, pretend to be me, and flirt his head off with Austin.

Would be better off if he didn't know I had his number.

That night, I locked up, went home, and peeled off his shirt. I still had no fucking clue what kind of cologne he laced his clothes with, but my god that shit smelled good. The most devastating part was tossing it in the wash.

A part of me wished I never did so while another was happy I could finally breathe proper air that wasn't drugged up in his scent.

Now, it just sat there, perfectly pressed and hung up on the doorknob of my closet. Like some sort of blaring billboard, it flashed its lights at me every single time I walked in my room. The worst was when I sat on my bed. I couldn't focus on my book, my laptop, or even the television — which were my favorite down time activities — with that thing just sitting there, staring straight into my soul.

I felt like I was going mad.

Being that today was Sunday, the bookstore was closed and I was off from work — meaning I had nothing to do. Syd always went to the gym or surfing on the weekends. It alternated depending on her mood, the weather, and if she had a competition coming up. Something I was glad she did without me, considering me and any form of physical activity in an athletic-esce form did not go together at all. Let alone get along.

Definitely not all chummy.

My noodle arms could never keep up.

Apparently she decided on the gym today, bringing Brock along for the ride — which hinted that she'd be gone for longer than usual. That meant, I was home alone, but not really alone — chilling with my not-so-good pal, Austin's shirt.

I needed out.

Bad.

I came to this conclusion when I found myself reading over a particular page ten times over, not grasping a single word of my book. And I was sitting in the living room — for fucks sake! Nowhere near Butthead's shirt. It was then that I figured I really needed to get out of the house — even though I really didn't want to.

As if this wasn't already bad enough, this man not only weaseled his way into my two favorite places, but also managed to infiltrate his presence into my bedroom where my bed — who was my main squeeze and boyfriend — lived — without ever stepping foot inside! Now, I guessed it was the whole fucking apartment.

Fan-fucking-tastic!

Getting kicked out of all my homes. Now where would I live?

With a huff, I grabbed my keys and tossed my book in my bag before heading out for the day. Where? I didn't know. But I was sure it would be one of the two places I usually went to. The bookstore was obviously a no for today. So that left me with Sunshine Spot.

I could only hope for the best.

Popping in my earbuds, I began my descent down the familiar stairs and out the door of my complex. When I stepped outside I almost went blind from how sunny it was. I immediately fished for my sunglasses, placing them on the bridge of my nose.

Sometimes I wondered if I was a vampire from how sensitive I always got. Or maybe it was just my introverted side making up more excuses to not leave the house. Either way, I definitely pulled off the 'fuck off, leave me alone' look with my earbuds in and my shades on. Not having to listen or look anyone in the eye sounded perfect to me.

And it was.

Until I got to my destination.

But to be fair, it was completely my own fault.

My dumbass was actually looking at her cellular device, trying to change the song I was listening to — but of course being the old piece of shit it was, the thing decided to lag on me right as I was walking through the door. Robotically, I messed around with every app and button known to man trying to fix it, but it just kept playing this one song that reminded me way too much of my awkward teenage years.

Somehow I managed to get to my favorite booth in the joint without even looking up. Sliding into the seat backwards, my back hit the wall and my knees shot up to my chest like a fetus — sideways in the booth.

I couldn't sit like a whole grown human — at all.

When I went to turn and slam the side of my phone on the table to wake it up, I almost died right on the spot when I realized someone was sitting across from me in my peripheral vision. Shutting my eyes for a moment, I tried to brace myself for what I would come face to face with —whoever was on the other side. Trying to figure out some sort of lame excuse that wouldn't make me look like a complete weirdo for sliding right into a booth that was already rightfully claimed.

Taking a breath and finally opening my eyes, I shut them just as fast when I captured the image of the person in front of me. Either I was losing my mind, or it was in fact him who was sitting in the same damn booth as me.

Saying him, I meant Austin with all of his butt related names.

You've got to be shitting me right now.

Why was this always happening to me?

Was he fucking following me or something?

Did his shirt manifest his presence right in front of me? —saying, 'Ha! Jokes on you! You can't escape me no matter how hard ya try!'

Reopening my eyes, I ripped my headphones out of my ears and absolutely lost it. "You!" I pointed at him as if I was blaming him for something — which I mentally was.

"Me?" he questioned and apprehensively confirmed, bracing a hand against his solid chest that was clad in a simple white t-shirt— clearly not understanding where I was going with this.

My mouth decided to work on its own accord and not cooperate with my brain. "What the hell are you doing here?" I grilled him immediately.

For a moment, he just stared at me blankly, seeming equally as confused but also slightly amused with the way his lips curled up. "Nice to see you too," he mused. Biting his lip, he looked down at the table. "Um." I followed his gaze, noting a small black moleskine journal that was sandwiched between his hands. One was inside the book, serving as a bookmark for whatever page I assumed he was writing on while the other was braced on top with a pen firmly tucked in between his fingers. It looked like I had totally interrupted his journaling— or journalism, if you will. "I should be asking you the same thing." He said, tilting his head as he studied me.

"Right," I sighed, readying myself for my long awaited explanation. "I didn't realize someone else was sitting here. Sorry —I'll just go."

I was in the process of awkwardly maneuvering myself out of the booth — finally rearranging my legs to be in a normal seating position when his husky voice spoke up. "No," he stopped me. "I mean, you can stay if you want. I'm not waiting on anyone anyways. Unless you're waiting on someone yourself."

"I'm not. Thanks, but —I don't want to disturb you, if you're working," I declined his offer, already feeling like a total intruder. Even though he unknowingly intruded on my favorite spot to sit when it came to avoiding people and having my own personal space to breathe.

"It's fine," he reiterated, not giving up for some reason unknown to me. "I was just finishing up anyways." To prove his point, he opened his journal back up, tucking his pen inside before closing it.

Looking around, I quickly assessed the available tables, only to come up short with a place to sit. The lunch hour was already hopping, meaning the joint was in fact packed and there was nowhere to sit that wouldn't have me up in somebody else's grill — listening in on their conversations. If I had to hear one more lady discuss the latest hot gossip about her neighbor's affair like a true Soap Opera while I was trying to read my book — I was gonna lose it.

"Sure," I gave in, unslinging my tote from my shoulder and shoving my phone and headphones inside.

It wouldn't kill me to sit with him for a little bit.

Right?

"So..." he began, starting some sort of conversation. "Did you end up at that nightclub?"

Well that was one way to get my attention.

"I'm sorry?" I questioned, totally not catching on to what he was going on about. Suddenly feeling extremely nervous, I braced my hands together on the table, hoping he wouldn't notice that I was shaking as I messed around with the rings on my fingers."What nightclub?"

He cupped his hand over his chin, displaying his ring cladded fingers that bounced against the light from the lamp hanging above us. Today he wore a few different silver bands that I found myself staring at. "The one your friend behind the counter said he was turning your bookstore into." He explained shyly.

"Oh!" He remembered that? "No." I shook my head, laughing lightly at the memory. "He didn't — thankfully."

"Good," he said. " It would've been a shame if he'd done it. I'd never get a chance to go back there and scan the collection if a dance floor and bar replaced all the shelves."

Picturing Levi running an entire nightclub that had a Saturday Night Fever Vibe with a John Trovolta-esce dance floor that lit up and changed colors, simultaneously made me want to laugh and cry. Laugh because I knew Marlon would absolutely be beside himself, and cry because I would lose it if Levi fucked up my displays and let people destroy the vintage portion of the collection where our rare books could be found. If I could take in all those babies I would.

Trying my hardest not to make a smart ass comment, I agreed with him."That would be devastating."

Which then left me to immediately overthink it.

Devastating in the sense of the bookstore being destroyed or devastating that he'd never get to see it?

Oh god.

What if he thought I was flirting with him — thinking I'd be saddened not to see him again?

"Maybe I could just shove all the books in a back closet and hide in there while he parties," I tried to save myself. "Problem solved."

"As long as it's against a wall, so you could live up to your name," he replied, reminding me of the 'Wall Girl' title he gave me.

"Very funny," I threw out sarcastically, rolling my eyes as a busboy placed two glasses on the table — filling them up from a pitcher of water. "And I'd have to lock up my toothpick umbrellas in a safe. Wouldn't want you ruining my pretty drinks."

"Oh?" He perked up with that one, intrigue flooding in his curious blue eyes. "So I'm invited to this theoretical nightclub?"

Oh. My. God.

"Um." My cheeks heated at the implication, making it impossible for me to conjure up some sort of response. He had me cornered. "I-I wouldn't be surprised if Levi invited you." Volly saved. His brows confirmed to me that he wasn't sure who I was talking about. "Levi is my co-worker. The dude behind the desk," I confirmed to which he nodded in understanding once it all clicked.

"Hi. Welcome to Sunshine Spot. I'm Sherry, and I'll be your server today." My favorite lady came over to take our order, whisking us out of our conversation. Flicking through her order pad, she didn't realize I was sitting right in front of her. "What can I get —" She immediately trailed off once she caught my eye, surprise washing over her features. "My girl! I should've known you'd be sitting here. My intuition must've served me right and felt your presence."

"Hey Sher," I greeted her back, my nerves subsiding as my gratitude rose the moment she appeared. It must've totally gone over her head that I was right here since I normally always sat alone.

She smiled back at me, before she glanced over at Austin, giving him a hard stare. "Who are you?" She asked him, her whole demeanor changing as she took him in.

"Austin," he introduced himself, a picture perfect smile gracing his face — totally disregarding Sher's judging stare in an attempt to butter her the fuck up. "It's nice to finally meet you in person."

She looked even more taken aback, baffled that he could say such a thing to her — completely forgetting they talked the other day.

Good.

Humble him.

"Sher." I got her attention. "You spoke to him the other day on the phone." She still looked lost, so I elaborated. "You thought I was being kidnapped while I was ordering coffees for Syd's meeting."

"Oh!" She clapped her hands, piecing it together. "That was you?" He nodded. "Good. Now I can keep my eye on you. If you even try anything with my girl here I will not hesitate to —"

"Alrighty then!" I cut her off, reaching for a menu and shoving it across the table for Austin to look at. "Shall we order?"

"Mhm," Austin mumbled as he flipped a page, searching it over.

God, this was fucking awkward.

Don't get me wrong, I loved Sher's spirit to death, but this was not the time for threats especially when there was nothing between me and Austin. We weren't even close enough to be considered friends.

"The usual for you, dear?" Sher asked, making it blatantly obvious of my regular appearances here.

"Yep," I confirmed, popping the p in exaggeration while passing the menu back to her.

Taking it from me, she turned to Austin with absolutely no cheer presence. "And for you?" She was already flexing her hand for the menu like she couldn't be bothered.

"Um. Just a coffee," He said simply. "Black. No milk or sugar, please."

"God." She put the hand with the pen over her heart dramatically. "Is that it?

We both nodded.

"Interesting." She paused for a moment. "Do you kids ever eat or just feed off of coffee like it's a drug?" She inquired, but didn't wait for us to respond. "I'm sending over fries and gravy for you two so I know you're not starving yourselves, and I can sleep peacefully tonight." She decided, jotting that last order down before walking away with no argument.

"I take it that you just ordered a coffee too? Nothing else?" he weighed, clearly reading between the lines.

"Just the drug," I firmly stated. "Certified junkie."

A stupid toothy grin threw up all over his face at my words, his eyes crinkling as they tightened in hysterics. I couldn't help but join him as he laughed his ass off right in front of me. It was the first time I ever saw him completely lose it like that, and it was such a fascinating sight to see. Especially since he always tended to hide it in front me.

Swiping a hand over his face to compose himself, he unknowingly pushed a curl out of the expanse of his hair.

"Makes the two of us," he said once he could get the words out without cracking up again.

I couldn't help but stare at the blonde lock casually lingering against his forehead like Danny Zuko. I supposed it really was a Grease kind of day. "Hm," I teased. "I'm the top junkie. Let's see if you fit the qualifications for certification."

Somehow, I managed to cough up the confidence to look him in the eye as he said, "Wow. Big words for the bookstore girl." He held his hands up in defense. "I see how it is."

Bookstore girl.

"What?" I inquired, absolutely flushed. "Scared you're gonna lose to the reigning champ?"

Thankfully a server came over with our drinks, and his gaze was trained on our coffees right in front of us. "Nope. I'm ready for the challenge." He licked his lips as he anticipated the taste of the coffee on his tongue, preparing himself for our little game.

Oh fuck.

"Of course you ordered black coffee," I spat out, not thinking before I spoke — far too focused on his perfectly sculpted cherry lips.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He leaned over the table, sizing me up.

"I don't know," I sighed, messing around with the straw stabbed into the lid on my drink. . "Reminds me of my basic ex-bosses at the publisher company. Boring bitter drinks, boring bitter men," I recalled, the memories of fucking up drink orders at my internship permanently etched into my head.

"So you think I'm boring and bitter?" He scoffed, clearly offended.

Shit.

Fuck.

"No!" I almost yelled, my heart racing out of my chest as I tried to think of a good way to maneuver out of the grave I just dug myself in. "I mean — not that you are boring or bitter. Well, I — I get milk and creamer in my drink, but that doesn't make me cool or peachy. Just the opposite. Trust me, I'm known to be very boring and bland. It's my middle —"

"Rianne!" He called, a smile etching onto his face as he cut me off. "I'm only joking with you." It was then that I felt his thumb dig into the side of my hand where my thumb and pointer finger met as if he was trying to bring me back to reality.

Oh.

Hello?

The realization dawned over me that in the middle of my excitement, I must have reached across the table and trapped his hand under my own out of reflex to console him in some fashion.

My fingers immediately tensed at the contact.

"Right," I gulped. A wave of electricity shooting from my fingertips all the way up to my arms jolted me awake, and I pulled back sheepishly.

Wrapping my hands around my drink, I tried to cool my hand down that felt awfully hot. I took a sip, tasting straight up sugar and creamer with the perfect amount of bitterness as a means to distract myself from the obvious.

I watched as he did just the same, using his other hand — that was never locked in my hold — to pick up his drink and take a sip. My eyes traveled to his other hand that was still braced on the table — still and unmoving. I thought I imagined it when his hand flexed for just a moment before he pulled it away.

"Hm," he hummed in satisfaction, averting my attention back to his face. "Pretty good," he complimented the coffee before taking another sip.

"The best," I hyped it up, almost halfway done with my own cup.

"I now understand why you come here so much," he commented in between sips before going back to our previous conversation. "So you used to work for a publishing company?"

"Interned," I clarified. "Not my finest moment, but hey — guess it just wasn't for me."

"Do you like the bookstore?"

He wanted to know if I liked working at the bookstore.

He wanted to know something about me.

"Yeah, I love it," I answered quickly, before I could over-think it any longer. Taking one last big sip, I almost slammed my cup on the table. "Done!"

"No fair," Austin whined, completely stunned. "They filled yours with a shit load of ice."

"Are you accusing me of cheating, Mr. Butt-ler?" I exaggerated the butt part again, absolutely cheesing my head off as I fucked around with him.

Not actually fucked.

Just joking.

Busted his balls a little.

Welp, that didn't sound any better. Anyways —

"Not that again." He blew out a breath, his gaze training upward as he tried to remove the curl off his forehead in frustration.

My hand suddenly tingled at my side, itching to reach out and touch him — to move the curl from his forehead. I momentarily wondered if his hair was as soft as it looked from here.

Jesus.

Focus, Rianne.

Maybe Sher was right. Maybe coffee was a drug. Maybe one of those peeps at Syd's office infected me or doused their addictive stimulants into my beverage.

Shoving my hand under my leg, I settled. "It's not my fault you nurse it like a baby."

"Maybe we should've ordered espresso shots," he suggested, ignoring my comment right as another server placed a plate of fries and gravy on the table for us. "Could be a hit for Levi's party though."

"Don't give me ideas now," I warned him, pointing a gravy covered fry in his direction accusingly to which he just smirked at me before munching on his own stick of potato — if you will.

A strange silence washed over us as we indulged in the plate, my mind suddenly feeling cloudy and heavy with every intrusive thought imaginable. For some reason, I couldn't comprehend the fact that I was here with him, in my favorite booth, sipping coffee and munching on fries — looking like this was a normal usual thing.

Something we did all the time.

Together.

The thought lingered with me for longer than I liked, burrowing itself deep into my insecurities and worries.

Warning me to flee.

Warning me not to get attached.

"Good, you're both eating." Sher was suddenly there, leaning an arm against the top of Austin's side of the booth observing us. "Everything good, my girl?" She asked me, going back to ignoring him once she was satisfied that he was being fed.

"Great," I forced out — my smile feeling robotic as I attempted to stretch it across my face.

Everything was fine, and now it just wasn't.

She sent a strange look my way, suspicion written all over her face as her eyes scanned back and forth between us. Sherry knew me well – well enough to know when something was up with me. Well enough to pick up my social cues in a heartbeat.

Before she could even let out a single word, my hand ventured into my tote bag searching for my wallet. "I probably should go." I told Austin, placing some cash on the table to contribute to my share.

"Wait – Take it back," he urged, pushing the cash back in my direction and then whipped out his credit card, trying to hand it over to Sher.

Not again.

Rolling my eyes, I picked up my cash and shook it in front of Sher. "Who are you gonna side with on this one? The dude you just met or your girl?" I questioned her, narrowing my eyes as a test.

Shaking her head, she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Neither of you." She surprised us both. "On me. I'm not gonna wait and watch you two argue it out. I've got orders to take and shit to do." She raised her manicured hands up in surrender. "Goodbye."

And then she just disappeared – leaving us sitting there confused.

In a quick attempt to stop him from even thinking about paying for me, I left some cash on the table as a tip for Sher since she didn't leave us a receipt before decking out of there. I ball parked what I thought the price would be and hoped and prayed she just took it. If not, someone else would. Either way it would go to a place I appreciated.

Looking back, I watched him leave his own wad of cash – which was definitely too much money at this point for two coffees and some fries – before trailing behind me – his steps urgent. On the way out, I thought I lost him, but heard the bell above the door ring the moment I stopped at the corner looking both ways to cross.

Damn it.

Long legs stopped right next to me as I went to click the button for the crosswalk. "You're walking?" he asked, surprising me when he dropped the 'I'm paying-no-I'm paying' game.

Guessed it was settled — more than settled.

I sure as shit thought he was gonna say something along the lines of — "Just let me pay, Rianne," or "You'll get me back next time, Rianne" — just to get his way. Or maybe I was just thinking that because a part of my subconscious selfishly wanted to hear him say my name again. Wanted him to see me again. I already knew another part was already shutting that thought down — canning it in the trash bin of my brain.

You're gone.

Deleted.

"Yeah." I replied, squinting up at his tall frame against — what would soon be — a setting sun.

His golden locks shone in the light, complimenting the rays and his eyes looked even lighter — like a light blue sky reflecting off the ocean. Seeing him standing up gave me the opportunity to notice that he had on a pair of jeans and scruffed up brown boots — that looked like they'd seen better days — and now a black leather jacket.

"It's getting late," he muttered. "And the streets are gonna be packed with people and traffic now that rush hour is rolling around." Leaning against the post he finally ripped off the bandage. "Let me drive you home."

"Oh, so you do drive?" I teased, being a complete and total smartass.

"I was away for a while," he explained, pulling out a key from his pocket to drive his point further. Ha— drive? Car? Alright. Tough Crowd. Awful joke. "And I left it here, so it had to go into the shop for a check up when I came back. That's why I couldn't drive myself."

"Is it good? You sure it isn't gonna break down on us during the journey back home?" I asked suspiciously.

"I was in your friend La— Le— sorry, what is his name again?" His hand shot up to his head, his fingers massaging into his temples as if it was physically paining him to figure out what he was trying to say.

I knew not telling him would give me the upper hand, but watching him struggle started to pain me as well. "Levi."

"Levi. Right." He brushed his hand across his face just as he did in the diner. I wondered if it was a habit induced by stress. "I sat in his — no offense — pretty old car, and I let you drive me." He pointed out.

"True." I mean I couldn't deny the evident point he made. Levi's car was way passed the drinking age and probably even surpassed me by a few years — probably flirty and thirty. "No offense taken but, you didn't have much of a choice now, did you? And I wouldn't be driving this time, would I?"

"Well." He kicked off the pole, standing up straight. "No, but —"

I advanced towards him, so close I ruined the little line I mentally drew between us, my finger poking his chest.

"Exactly!" I stressed.

I won.

Two out of three.

Take that—Toothpick Umbrella Thief!

"Scared of losing control?" He quipped, biting on that ridiculous lip for the a millionth time today — seeming completely unphased by my close proximity and more amused by my evident aggravation.

"How do I know you're a safe driver?" I avoided his question, whispering like it was some sort of confidential secret. As if we weren't standing on a busy street in Los Angeles, but in a library with a librarian shushing us across the way.

"You'll just have to find out for yourself," he breathed, his face towering over mine — so close I could feel his breath fanning across my skin.

Too close.

I shouldn't have done that.

I pulled away.

"Thanks, but I walk all the time," I attempted to deny another one of his offers, staring up at the stupid light stuck on green — waiting for the damn thing to turn. "I'll be fine." I assured him, sending him a tight lipped smile as I pressed the button again, but with a bit more umpt this time.

He sent a funny look my way, before lifting up his sleeve and sniffing his arm. "Do I smell or something to you?" He asked in all seriousness, his nose scrunching up as he tried to figure it out. "Is that why you want to get away from me so bad? Cause if so, you can just tell me straight up." He joked.

If he meant smell good — yes, in fact he smelled so good, I found it really hard to concentrate. Which meant I needed to get as far away from him as possible.

But, I knew what he meant.

And he sure as shit did not smell bad at all.

"No." I let out a short laugh. "I already intruded on your booth, your work, and your late lunch. You should be sick of me at this point."

"I'm not sick of you," he said just as fast, proving to me that he was truly trying to say whatever would please me to get me right where he wanted me. "In fact. If I remember correctly, you have a shirt of mine that I have to get back from you. So it's a win-win — I drive you home, you give me the shirt." He stuck out his hand, initiating to shake on it. "Deal?

Fucking stubborn.

Taking a long hard breath, I let the steam shoot right out of my ears as I reached out and shook his hand. My body immediately caved once his warm hand engulfed my small one— our rings clanking together. My mind screamed at me to pull away, but —

"Deal."

Electric.

If it meant giving him his shirt back so I could finally live at peace in my own home — so be it.

——

it's the way i was cheesing like a total idiot while writing this chapter —smiling at typed words on a screen. anyways, hope you enjoyed <3 —xanadu

[breaded-boi]

ngl i mourn for kids now because holy shit the toys do not have the same amount of detail or paint or anything nowadays. (with some exception, like i have no clue how MGA sells lol dolls for 20 bucks with the detail involved) the designers do the best they can but there's only so much you can do with modular plastic molds and stickers. i had a way better my little pony castle when i was 6 than the kids get now. like ok look at this.

This was the flagship g5 castle playset. and they try with nice molds, modular pieces, and leaning into a design that doesn't need much paint, right? The interactive bits are fun. But compared to what we used to have...

the motherfucking g3 celebration castle. The river, steps, climbing flowers, trim, rainbow-- all of it is painted detail. The inside does go with mostly stickers but that moat piece in particular is lovely. I may grab some more examples but my point is, the designers are still good, it's just wayyy more expensive to get stuff like this manufactured nowadays and it's sad that I idolized someday working in a toy industry that just does not exist the same way at all anymore. And I get if you may prefer the new design since the old castle is a little younger-skewed, but my point is the level of detail here is completely different between the two sets and both were suppose to be the "fancy deluxe birthday/christmas present" option for their respective generations. More examples--

I wasn't born in time to have clamshell polly pockets, but like.

The 2000 jungle pals set. Almost everything is colored!! the immersion is so good and the fact that it's a little fold-out house its so fucking cute. The gradient on the leaf canopy. there are modular pieces but the painted details bring it alllll together.

I didn't have this one but the little trees. the chair. come on. come onnnn

The modern polly, this is the most expensive set listed on mattel's site right now. And everything is either a separate mold or a sticker and i dunno like they try and it doesn't look super bad but it's not at all as immersive. they seem to push the interactive/moveable pieces to try and make up for the loss of immersion but its not the sameeee :( not to mention im honestly not a huge fan of the way they're pushing this particular palette of purple/teal.

This is an older set, and it uses similar colors to much better effect. even with hardly any painted detail the objects they choose to populate the scene with are tailored to that chunky look. Imo if you aren't going to paint a piece, molded detail can be a double-edged sword. the door and furniture in the modern set look much more like just chunks of plastic to me compared to the little food court chairs or the shrub in this one, because the pieces do not call attention to details that seem like they should be colored. There isn't much paint on this one, but if the floor flowers or the ferris wheel were just one solid color it would definitely hurt the appeal ykno?

now, littlest pet shop. im gonna take a second to spotlight the REAL old lps toys before the bobblehead style really came about because I had these as a kid (had a relative with an antique shop, these were before my time and I was lucky) and they are. just. the small amount of painted detail paired with good color choice really makes these work (had to take some of these from ebay listings, it's hard to find good pics)

The duck pond. Painted details on the trellis!! and the magnetic wand you could use to make the ducks swim 🥺 The swan pond is even more beautiful

Even some of the less detailed sets from this era still have enough painted detail on at least one part to help it feel less like just a hunk of plastic.

I don't dislike modern toy design, but it makes me sad. And obviously, I don't know anything about the working/manufacturing conditions at play here and no painted detail is worth compromising on good conditions. It's just wild, looking back. Kids today don't know what they lost :/

[sulfurandbrimstone74]

I don’t ship Geralt and Jaskier personally because they’re way better friends but Jaskier would 100% fuck Geralt given the opportunity. No romance or anything they’re just good platonic pals, and Geralt is tragically heterosexual, but Jaskier can appreciate a good hunk of ass when he sees it.

[justmultifandom]

Kidge headcanon n. 15

I was listening to "Can you feel the love tonight" by The lion King when I thought that this can be a perfect Kidge song. I mean... I heard literally Lance, Hunk, Keith and Pidge during listening to this beautiful song!

So... Imagine this during the second or tird anniversary of the end of the war, when the team in on new Altea for the usual celebration. During that year, every Galra told Keith to be their leader, even begging him. So he didn't know what to do.

He was sitting in front of Allura statue thinking and praying that she could help her with a sign or something when he heard some steps. It was Pidge, worried for him. She sat next to him and they two started talking. She wanted him to be the new Garla ruler since he was a good leader during their time with Voltron. She even talked about how much she cared about him and how much she wanted the best for him.

At the same time, Lance was watching them from the New castle's balcony. He knew what was happening right now, and also knew that everything will change if Keith will really become the new Galra ruler and if they will admit their feeling for each other. Hunk slowly joined him since he saw him all alone while both Shiro and Coran were sleeping. And then the music started playing...

[Lance:] I can see what's happening [Hunk:] I can't - what? [Lance:] And they don't have a clue! [Hunk:] Who's they? [Lance:] They'll fall in love, and here's the bottom line Our trio's down to two [Hunk:] Oh, I get it

[Lance:] The sweet caress of twilight There's magic everywhere [Hunk:] It's everywhere. [Lance:] And with all this romantic atmosphere Disaster's in the air!

[Keith & Pidge:] Can you feel the love tonight? The peace the evening brings The world, for once, in perfect harmony With all its living things

[Keith:] So many things to tell her But how to make her see The truth about my past? Impossible! She'd turn away from me

[Pidge:] He's holding back, he's hiding But what, I can't decide Why won't he be the king I know he is The king I see inside?

[Keith & Pidge:] Can you feel the love tonight? The peace the evening brings The world, for once, in perfect harmony With all its living things

Can you feel the love tonight? You needn't look too far Stealing through the night's uncertainties Love is where they are

[Lance:] And if he falls in love tonight It can be assumed [Hunk:] His carefree days with us are history [Lance & Hunk:] In short, our pal is doomed!