#as in its not prompted by anything Recent just some memories lmao

[sapphirescales]

anyways, ive been thinkin abt my rp exp on raven for ages and how its not always been a positive experience??? and how a lot of ppl talk shit abt me behind my back for Certain Decisions i made w this blog but like lmao dont fucking talk to me like you weren't part of the problem when i joined as xm//fc raven in 2012, the xrpc fuckin HATED HER. there were basically NO GIFSETS, NO META of her ANYWHERE, her entire tag was filled w people who hated and despised the movie version of her bc they either resent jen's Success™ or bc they thought she was Weak and Useless and Childish and Selfish -- EVEN THO xm//fc was an origin story. they preferred xtrilogy raven who had a total of like 4? 5? lines? and no characterisation to her other than blue, naked and subservient to erik. what a fckn surprise. like SORRY TO BE SALTY AF but the rpc pissed me tf off. i had to deal w SO MUCH SEXISM AND MISOGYNY not just from the non rp side of fandom but also from potential rp partners. from charles and erik rpers who either wanted an infantile ravne or a Bitch™ as an antagonist in their ch*rik stories. from random male ocs and canons -- ppl from the mcu and 616 alike -- who were only interested in writing ships or using raven as fodder and support for their chara's emotional Angst™ bc obvs shes female and so she MUST naturally give a shit abt everyone, even ppl she's never met every time i reblogged a vaguely intimate image, or a text post, or talked abt sex hcs or even just discussed her body image, i would get unsolicited invitations for ships and abt how "my muse would **** and ****** and ********* raven, would love it if raven also ** and **** and ***". and it is STILL HAPPENING TODAY, in 2017. i am STILL getting messages like this from ppl i have never rp'd with, never followed, sexually explicit and unasked for. i'd get unfollowed and shamed by Prominent Members of the xrpc (only real 2012-2014 era rpers will know which blogs im talkin abt) as being sex-focused and ship-focused for making raven even the slightest bit sexual. like sry 2 sound like a bitch but i guess i am one?? i had to work fckn HARD to establish raven as a character to be taken seriously in the rpc even tho she was a movie version. she only started getting popular after do//fp, and even now she still gets a lot of shit. i had to work fckn hard to be taken seriously, and protect the investment of my time and energy which means im exclusive and selective and mutuals preferred and even then!!!! i STILL can't reblog or talk abt raven's sexuality, no matter how important it is (esp to me a lgbtqia woman), because the Moment™ i ever made her a sexual person she stopped being taken seriously and it STILL happens. ppl clamour around male muses who talk sex hcs but when female muses do, theyre immediately taken less seriously. you'll immediately get hounded for ships w ppl you've never written with tht suddenly feel like they can harass you bc you stop being intimidating when you show the sexual interests of yr muse so like, while i know Some Of You are out there bitching abt how i dont rp w everyone, tht i make myself deliberately unapproachable, and abt how Toxique™ i am bc im exclusive and mutuals prioritised, remember i fckn tried to get along w you ppl and ya'll did me SO DIRTY repeatedly. fuck you.

[harry-leroy]

I wish you would write a fic about Sycamore, sick in bed while Lysandre takes care of him 👉👈🥺 (only if you want to of course lmao)

Hi! Thank you for this! So I’m not sure if you play Pokémon Masters, but they recently had a Sycamore/Lysandre event where each teamed up with the XY legendaries, so my brain went Pasio/Legendary telepathy AU? Leave it to me to make the fic deeper than the prompt calls for, but here we are. This is pretty short, but I might expand it if I have the time! Hope you enjoy :) 

“… Augustine…” a voice called him, it was deep, though soft.

         “Hm?” Augustine felt his vocal chords ache. It was the first time he had used them in what felt like a week, though it had only been three days. He attempted to sit up, his vision blurry, attempting to focus on Lysandre, though far too tired.

         “You shouldn’t try to overexert yourself,” Lysandre said, rushing to Augustine’s side and adjusting a pillow. “I only asked if you wanted to eat something,”

         “Oh,” said Augustine, “actually, that sounds good right about now,”

         “I’ll get you some soup,” Lysandre nodded. “That will probably warm you up,”

         As Lysandre rose, Augustine stopped him by taking a weak hold of his hand.

         “Lys,” he began, “what happened? How long have I been here?”. A sudden wince escaped him, “why does my head hurt?”

         Lysandre might have begun talking, though Augustine was far too distracted by the grating cries in his head to focus. What was that?, he thought, a Pokémon? Memories came through his head like vague dreams. He remembered that he left his lab coat somewhere, somewhere he would not be able to get it back. He felt naked without it, though Lysandre always laughed when he said that. He remembered bright lights, almost like a prism; reflections in a pool of cave water, though seeing something with antlers on the other side; he remembered wanting water of his own to drink. What was… Xerneas doing in a cave? Saving him?

         “You don’t remember?” Lysandre asked. “a trainer found you in a cave just outside the city. You were dehydrated and exhausted, love,”

         “No,” Augustine said, then sighed. “Yes. I think I remember it a little now. Lys-”

         “What?” he asked.

         “Did anyone say anything about Xerneas?” Augustine ventured. Maybe he had been hallucinating the whole thing. Dehydration could do that.

         “Why are you asking?” Lysandre asked.

         “I thought I…”

         Lysandre took a step back. So it was not a rumor after all. Xerneas had finally awoken after eons in sleep. It meant that his plan… it could finally work.

         “I feel like,” Augustine continued, growing unsure, “I feel like it’s still calling to me. Is that even possible?”

         “I don’t know,” Lysandre crossed his arms. He almost wanted to laugh. He would have if Augustine still didn’t look so sick. “You’re the professor, not me,”

         “No,” Augustine laughed, weak, “I’m the one who’s going mad,”

         “Don’t say that,” Lysandre said. “What were you doing in those caves anyway?”

         “A trainer lost their Pokémon,” Augustine sighed, eyes drifting to the window for a moment and then back to Lysandre. He shook his head, as if trying to get Xerneas out of it. “an Aron, I think it was? I hope it got back to its trainer,”

         “I’m sure it did,” Lysandre said.

         “You mean, you don’t know?” Augustine’s eyes widened and he sat up abruptly.

         “Calm yourself, Gus,” Lysandre once again rushed to the professor’s side to settle him back down. “The doctor said you need to get some peace and quiet. Besides what happened in the cave, they said you looked like a man on the edge of a breakdown. Like you’ve been working too much,”

         “Did they?” Augustine joked.

         “Would you listen?” Lysandre stood back. “Sometimes I feel like I’m the only thing keeping you from acting like this in front of the kids,”

         “Calem and Serena are kids,” Augustine said. “You’re… you. I don’t let my guard down in front of just anyone, you know,”

         ��I’m well aware,” Lysandre said.

         “What happens if this… noise… doesn’t go away?”  the professor asked.

         “Then you should go back to the doctor,” Lysandre said. “I’m sure it’s just you coming off of the dehydration. You were running a pretty high fever when they brought you out of that cave, too,”

         “They?” Augustine asked.

         “League staff had to come get you,” Lysandre said. “That new trainer was there too. The one you like so much,”

         Lysandre had turned back to Augustine to get a response, only to find that he was distracted and shivering now.

         “Hey,” he pulled some blankets over the professor’s chest and felt his forehead with his palm, taking him out of his distraction. “your fever’s gone back up. Let me get you that soup. That young trainer, Gloria, was telling me of recipes from Galar. They sound exquisite. How does that sound?,”

         Augustine nodded and proceeded to curl himself up under the covers, knees tucked to his chest. Lysandre bent down to kiss his forehead before exiting the bedroom. Outside the door, he stopped for a moment, hearing the echoes of what he knew to be Yveltal inside his own head. It had been happening for several weeks. At first it terrified him, but now it felt somewhat comforting. Yveltal had chosen him. He was important. Fate was in his hands.

         “Oh, Gus,” he said under his breath. “It seems that we are chosen ones,”

Under the covers, Augustine tried to fall into a peaceful sleep, but instead felt a pain in his head like Xerneas was ramming their antlers into the skull. If this is what being a chosen one was, as Lysandre put it, he was tempted to want out. He twisted under the blankets, sweat dripping down his forehead. Xerneas was meant to give life, not drain him of it. That could only mean that Yveltal was awake too. Their fight had begun. Augustine took a deep, ragged breath in. Nothing Rowan taught him would have prepared him for this. He was tempted to call Lysandre back to him, but instead focused on his breathing. There was nothing to be done now. 

     Xerneas had made their choice, Yveltal too. A bright new future was underway!

[captainjanegay]

in the lane, snow is glistening | Stucky | Canon Divergent, Winter Fluff, Pre-War, but also Post Endgame | 2.3k words | Ao3

Summary:

Two times Steve and Bucky take a walk through the snowy park.

based on a one-line holiday prompt - "if you throw that snowball, you’re declaring war"

A/N: It’s funny you said you’re in the mood for some winter fluff cause this one is specifically for you. Thank you so much for the prompt, my love  @its-tortle​ ♥ The summary it's basically what the fic is about lmao You just need to add two dumb boys in love, loads of fluff and bickering and a good helping of emotions.

Also - my seventh fill for the @stuckybingo2020​ ♥

The Prospect Park looks beautiful covered in a thick layer of white fluff, sparkling in the morning sun. It only started snowing last afternoon but there's a good two inches of snow everywhere. The park is relatively empty. The hour is late enough for most people to be at work or whenever they need to be but also cold enough for most people to stay at home if they don’t need to be anywhere. Bucky has no idea why he and Steve are outside. It was probably one of Steve's stupid ideas that Bucky has agreed to because there are only a few things he is able to deny when it is Steve who does the asking.

So here they are. Strolling through the snowy, almost completely deserted park on a Wednesday morning. Both shaking slightly in their worn coats, too thin for such weather. Bucky curses himself in his mind. He shouldn’t have agreed to this. What if Steve catches another cold? Even a light one always completely wears him out, tying him to bed for days. At least he agreed to take Bucky's scarf in addition to his own. He didn't go down without a fight. It took almost half an hour of arguing before Steve finally gave up and took the scarf.

So what if Bucky is now trying not to shake too visibly. At least Steve is warm. Ish, considering the temperature, but it's still comforting.

"Steve, come on," Bucky sways to the right, nudging Steve lightly. "We should head back."

Steve nudges him back, pressing his arm into Bucky's for a bit too long. The alley is wide enough and yet they still walk with barely an inch of space between them.

"Just a minute," Steve looks up at him. "It's the first snow of the year, let's enjoy it without your nagging, shall we?"

Bucky rolls his eyes, annoyed. But he doesn't press any further. Damn Steve Rogers and his stupid ideas. And damn his stupid, beautiful blue eyes. Just one look into them and all of Bucky’s common sense flies out of the window.

“I wonder if you still will be such a punk if you get sick again,” Bucky mumbles. Still, instead of taking the left turn that’ll take them home, he goes right, to take another leap around the park. 

“Probably,” Steve grins.

His smile is as bright as the sun. Bucky feels warmer already, just looking at Steve’s happy face. Steve’s eyes are sparkling and he looks content and healthy and Bucky really hopes it’ll stay this way for the rest of the winter. Or forever, preferably. And maybe Steve’s right. The times they live in aren’t the easiest and it’s important to cherish all the little joys they’re able to find.

“I don’t know why I still put up with you. You’re horrible,” Bucky says. The way he looks at Steve says something entirely different, though.

“You’re horrible, too,” Steve points out. “So we’re even.”

A fond smile still in place, Bucky only rolls his eyes and quickens his pace, just a bit to get ahead of Steve in pretend annoyance. After just a few seconds he glances over his shoulder and sees that Steve is crouching down. At first Bucky thinks he’s just tying his shoe but he’s proven wrong soon enough.

“Oh no. Don’t you dare,” Bucky says as he turns around quickly. “If you throw that snowball, you’re declaring war.”

Steve cocks one of his eyebrows up as if Bucky just challenged him. Which Bucky didn’t, he’s not stupid enough to challenge Steven Grant Rogers. But that’s probably what Steve thinks has happened.

So — of course — before Bucky can say anything else, a snowball hits him right in the chest. After a second the hurriedly-made soft missiles are criss-crossing over the park alley. Steve’s not bad but he’s no match for Bucky and his perfect aim. In the last heroic and desperate measure, Steve runs across the alley with a fierce scream and tackles Bucky. Completely surprised by this sudden course of action, Bucky tumbles to the ground and a surprised laugh is knocked out of his chest as he falls.

Steve hovers over him. He has his arms braced on both sides of Bucky’s face. His bony knees are pressing gently into Bucky’s sides. 

Bucky looks up. He looks at the joyous sparkles in Steve's eyes, at the satisfied grin, the dishevelled hair and cheeks reddened by the cold and exertion. The midday sun is right behind him, making it look like there’s a bright halo surrounding him. He’s the most beautiful sight and for a moment Bucky feels like he can’t breathe. This is the sight he wants to store carefully in his memory and take to his grave when his time comes.

In a split second something around them changes. The world turns, a minute ticks by but the atmosphere changes from joyful to something heavier. Bucky’s perfectly aware of Steve’s gaze that flicks to his lips once, twice, before skipping back up to his eyes. It makes Bucky go crazy. There’s nothing that he wants more than to lean on his elbows and kiss the remnants of Steve’s cocky grin off his face. But he doesn’t. The cold ground under his body, the distant voices of the city make him regain control.

“We should—,” Bucky starts, his voice hoarse all of sudden. “There’s people— We should head back home, yeah?”

Steve lets out a small sigh but he nods shortly before scrambling to his feet. When he pulls Bucky back up, their fingers remain intertwined for a moment longer than necessary.

***

The Prospect Park looks beautiful, covered in a thick layer of white fluff, sparkling in the morning sun. It’s the middle of the winter but only recently it got cold enough for the snow to stick for longer, instead of melting the moment it hit the ground. Despite it being almost midday, there are many people hanging around the park. 

It was Steve’s idea to go outside and wander aimlessly through the city. His ideas of fun are a bit different than Bucky’s. If it was up to him, they’d stay in their warm flat and do things that didn’t require getting cold. But after all this time, he still has a hard time saying no to Steve.

Bucky is not a big fan of the cold these days. Sam always laughs that he’s just a big, mean cat that will hiss and scratch everyone who looks at him the wrong way. He calls him the Winter Panther and actually asked T’Challa to adopt him at one point. Sam is ridiculous sometimes. It’s not Bucky’s fault that he doesn’t like to be around people sometimes and that he really enjoys having his hair pet — but only by Steve and Nat. And maybe Clint. Or Sam, but he’s rarely willing to do that. And Bucky does tend to pick the warmest, sunniest part in any place he’s at.

After everything, Bucky just has a pretty bad associations with cold.

Today is fine, though. He doesn’t mind wandering arm in arm with Steve. Bucky’s safely tucked up in his long, warm coat and he has two scarves wrapped around his neck. When they left home he had only one but after walking for a while he confiscated Steve’s. The idiot had it hanging loosely around his neck anyway, didn’t even bother to wrap it once. It’s a miracle that his coat is buttoned up. This man has turned into a walking furnace after the serum. Bucky is convinced Steve’s leeching his warmth to fuel it.

"You want to head home, already?" Steve asks, looking at Bucky with a soft smile.

There's a tiny hint of concern in his eyes. It's easy to miss but after all those years and everything they've been through, there's almost nothing about Steve that gets by Bucky.

"I'll be fine," Bucky grumbles. They both know it's more on principle. "We can freeze my butt off for a bit longer, no problem."

Steve only rolls his eyes at Bucky, shoving him to the side but doesn't loosen his grip on Bucky's elbow.

"Ah, you're incredibly cheerful today, my love," Steve says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"How could I not be? My partner always has such splendid ideas for our daily activities," Bucky answers, with an overly sweet smile.

"You're such a jerk," Steve laughs. 

After a moment, he extracts his hand from under Bucky's elbow and crouches. Assuming that he needs to tie his shoe, Bucky doesn't stop. When he looks over his shoulder a moment later, he audibly gasps and turns around.

"Fuck off, Steve! Don’t! If you throw that snowball, you're declaring war!"

As soon as those words escape his mouth, Bucky frowns. He looks to the side, trying to decipher that weird feeling of deja vu. A memory appears in his head. 

It's a memory from a life long gone, from a park much like this one, from a winter that ended ages ago.

"Bucky?" Steve asks, dropping the snowball and taking a step closer. "You're OK?"

"Yes, it's just—," Bucky hesitates and when he looks back up at Steve, he sees that the concern in his eyes is as clear as a day now. "I've just remembered something. An old memory," he clarifies and smiles fondly. "I believe it was about a snow fight I've had with some little punk in this park. I said the very same thing to him back then. It's not a very detailed memory. And who knows if it actually happened?"

The smile on Steve's face grows gradually with every word Bucky says.

"Oh, it did happen. I actually might know the punk you're talking about," Steve jokes. His hands come to rest at Bucky's waist as he continues. "I'm pretty sure it was him that persuaded you to take a walk and since you've always been lazy, you've had a lot of complaining to do before you agreed."

"Oh, of course. It's not like I tried to keep the little punk from dying of pneumonia or something," Bucky rolls his eyes but he's smiling.

Steve completely ignores his comment. "The two of you walked for a while, didn't talk much but enjoyed the day. At some point he made a snowball and you said the same thing you did a moment ago. It didn’t make an impression on him, though.”

"Because he was a little shit," Bucky smiles softly, pressing the palm of his hand to Steve's chest.

"Maybe," Steve says with a chuckle. "The snow fight took some time and even though you weren't kids anymore it was the most fun you had in awhile. And then he took you by surprise and did this."

Before Bucky properly registers Steve's words, his legs are swept from under him and he tumbles to the ground. Steve goes with him, an arm behind Bucky's back cushions his fall. If it wasn't for Steve Bucky’s habits, both the Winter Soldier and the army ones would already kick in. But Steve is and always has been a calming presence for him. His anchor. So the only thing Bucky feels right now is surprise and a bit of annoyance, probably. No sight of feeling unsafe so he is able to remain calm. 

Steve's face hovers over him, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

"He easily knocked you down. You stayed like this for a bit, just staring at each other," Steve's hand comes to brush against Bucky's cheek.

The look in Steve's eyes is both tender and heated and it makes Bucky forget all about the people around them, about the cold ground underneath him.

"He couldn't stop thinking about how badly he wanted to kiss you, right there and then. Just for a moment he wanted not to care about the people who could see you and how dangerous that could be. It would have taken so little effort to do so," Steve's voice is down to almost a whisper.

As if to prove a point, he leans down and presses a sweet, chaste kiss to Bucky's lips. Bucky smiles into it, feeling the tell-tale prickle of tears in his eyes.

"Who knows if he managed to do that after you'd gone back home."

"I think he might have," Bucky says quietly, swiping his thumb across Steve's jaw.

Steve's face is soft and filled with pure happiness. Bucky's heart feels like it's about to burst simply from looking at him, from all the emotions he tries to store inside. Steve’s beautiful blue eyes crinkle at the corners, his lips spread in a big smile. The December sun is shining high on the sky behind Steve, surrounding his body in a bright embrace. He's beautiful. Even after all those years, Bucky still thinks Steve is the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. Breathtaking. And when Bucky's time comes again, he knows that that is the memory he is going to take with him. 

Since the mere sight of Steve is enough to have saved him from desolation once already. 

"Come on, Buck," Steve says, getting to his feet. "Let's go home."

Feeling a bit hazy from the sudden tide of emotions, Bucky let's Steve pull him up. He leans forward, pressing another kiss to Steve's mouth. Even if no words are exchanged, they both know what the other thinks.

I’m yours and you’re mine and there’s nothing that could make me stop loving you.

After shaking the snow off of each other, they head back to the same part of Brooklyn where they used to live in the previous life they shared. 

Their fingers stay entwined the entire walk home.

.

Title: in the line snow is glistening Creator(s): niallhoranbitches Card number: 065 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27844513/ Square filled: A4 - New York Rating: Teen and Up Archive warnings: None Major tags: Canon Divergent, Winter Fluff, Pre-War, but also Post-Endgame Summary: Two times Steve and Bucky take a walk through the snowy park. based on a one-line holiday prompt - "if you throw that snowball, you’re declaring war" Word count: 2287

[druddigoon]

hi here’s some bederia scraps i’m dying 

ye be spoilers

-

> soulmate au that never came into fruition, where soulmates involuntarily shared each other’s memories through dreams

Bede had his first soul-dream when he was twelve. 

It was uncommon to get them that early, but not unusual; most came and went whenever they pleased, snippets of another’s life that flickered just beyond memory. Until you met your soulmate, you had no control over what got sent and what got received. All you could do was face it. 

He remembered it like this: sun-flecked meadows green at summer’s peak, soft breeze fresh with new discovery. There was someone else with him, whose face was blank but hands were warm and calloused as they enveloped his, who talked in a rumbling baritone so low it was like the earth itself was singing him a lullaby. He picked Bede up and swung him like a merry-go-round, and for once there was no fear, just weightless laughter tethered by clasped hands and belonging. 

When he woke on stiff orphanage mattresses, he woke with an aching deeper than anything he’d known for a while.

-

> self-indulgent gloria sketch about bede getting to know each of her pokemon. never finished

"No, go away," Bede says to the monster hovering near his heels. "Bad, nasty bug. Go away."

Durant gives no indication that it hears him except for the little tilt of its head. It gingerly noses his pant leg, then, with mandibles that can snap his entire calf, nibbles at his ankles. Bede blanches. 

"Gloria, get your metal death machine away from me."

"Hmm?" Gloria's head peeks out from behind a steaming curry pot. "Awww, he likes you! Durant always wants to be everybody's friend. He wouldn't harm anyone outside of battles."

"I've seen him--" Bede bites back a wince as Durant digs its claws into his leg, trying to haul itself up. "--bring back huge sticks, only to snap them clean in half, accidentally, and sit down to whine over them. He's a hazard."

"Face it, you're only bitter because he one-shots your entire team. Relax, I've been training him to better control his strength, so you shouldn't have any unfortunate accidents." She leaves her curry to simmer as she makes her way towards him, disentangling the ant pokemon from his pants to carry like a doll. Durant nibbles at her chin, and Bede has a split-second panic attack at how his partner's face is held between its shearing jaws.

"Gloria, I love you, but..."

"Here." She grasps his hand and guides it to Durant, holding it still as antennae feel around. With a trill, Durant lifts its head to expose its neck. "Scratch him here, on the junction between the head and thorax. It's his favorite spot."

He does.

 The "chin area" is sleek and strangely warm. Durant's abdomen shakes almost like a wagging tail as it leans into his palm. 

Hard to believe something that can so mercilessly tear down battles with iron head and rock slide would be coming back for scritches. Gloria's watching the two of them with a small smile on her face, and suddenly he understands. Like pokemon, like trainer.

-

> from silent storm, sundering -- brief description of bede’s battling style from gloria i liked, before i scrapped the scene and rewrote it in bede’s point of view 

Bede fights as if his pokemon are an extension of his mind and soul. You’ve encountered it before, the unpolished beginnings of his style in the mines and more recently in the Wyndon semifinals, but under Opal’s tutelage it’s been honed into something unspoken, innate in how his hatterene moves before he’s given the gesture, attacks mirroring the rise of his voice or the rhythm of his words in perfect synchrony.

-

> from keep them in your mason jars -- original idea was for bede to accompany gloria to postwick after her mother died from a heart attack. had to change it because the idea proved to be too much of a challenge for a simple, short prompt

“They said she had a heart attack. Young for her age, might’ve been prevented if they rushed her to the hospital in time.” Gloria dips her head, hiding her face out of view. “Except the nearest ER is a couple hours hike from here a-and they d-didn’t find her right away. She was g-g-gone before they got there.” 

He didn’t have anything to say to that, so he ended up sliding her mug full of chamomile across the table, where she cupped it with trembling hands. 

“I t-told her it was okay to rent an ap-apar—room in Wyndon. Had enough m-money now. But she didn’t want to. S-said she like this place b-better.” 

-

> from keep them in your mason jars -- starts right after gloria leaves, went off the deep end lmao rip

“What’s being gym leader like? I’ve never really followed the circuit until my Glory became champion.” 

Didn’t he rehearse something like this for his inauguration? He wracks his brain for the eloquent, well-written speech that moved a town, but the only thing he could remember was it being too cold outside for a ceremony. 

“Oh, it’s. It’s essentially leading a gym; Ballonlea is largely self-sufficient, but since the gym. Is part of a interregional circuit, part of my job there has become—”

“Mum!” 

A patter of footsteps can be heard before Gloria’s head pops out from another room. She’s holding a box, bound meticulously in ribbon and wrapping paper and still shiny despite the overall dustiness of the house. “Why was this in my room?” 

“Oh, I—” She fumbles with the kettle and hisses quietly as the steel burns her hand. 

“Mum!” Before Bede could even react, Gloria has already dropped the box and is crouched beside her mother, cradling her burnt hand. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m-I’m..”

“Nonsense, you didn’t do anything. I got too jumpy after spending a few months all by myself.” Gloria’s mother smiled, sliding her hands out of Gloria’s grasp and running them under the tap water. “That was a present for your seventeenth birthday I’d saved as compensation, since you were away for your birthday. As a surprise. Didn’t expect you to find it so quickly; silly of me to plan it as a big reveal and set it on your bed. Sorry for ruining the surprise Glory, happy very late birthday.” 

Gloria wordlessly reaches out, and the two meet in an awkward hug. 

The kettle, knocked on its side on the counter, spills boiling water onto the tiled floor below.

Piles of plastic bags bursting with second-hand toys, more than he’s held in his life. A tiny hatenna, who’d opened her eyes and telepathically asked Bede where her trainer was. His parents had swept him up in a hug, told him stay inside go to sleep on time eat all your food in the fridge yes even the gross ones, before they fled the region and left him for law enforcement to find. 

His fists are clenched tight underneath the table, nails digging hard into the meat of his palm. 

This is normal. Expected of a healthy family. He should be happy for Gloria, should be happy he’s part of this, please don’t ruin this please don’t ruin this—

You always ruin everything, don’t you? 

(His parents were fine until he came along.)

“Excuse me,” he says, chokes out with the last breath of air left in his chest, as his chair wails a banshee screech when he stands up. The outside greets him in a shuddering lungful of cool forest air. Rapidash, grazing in the pastures, raises his head as he passes. 

The gate clicks shut behind him with a click.  It’s Gloria who finds him, sitting on moss-worn drystack and watching Rapidash sniff the wooloo. He hears the scuff of her feet on loose gravel—knows it’s her without looking, with a resolve that has him wondering when he’s learned—as the silence echoes like an oncoming storm. 

"I'll book a ticket back to Motostoke today," he says, "Doubt your mum would let me inside her house after what I did."

“At least apologize to her, she deserves that much. She’s worried that she’s made a bad impression on you. After you left, she kept talking about her clumsiness scared the guest away.” 

He scuffs his feet on the stones, avoiding her gaze. She takes his lack of answer as an invitation, hefting herself onto the drystack beside him with the ease of honed muscle memory, balanced, arms outstretched. 

[skiesoftwilight]

For the Best (Jason Todd)

I finally wrote it! It took me a long as time and A LOT of re-writing to get the scenes right, but I did it. I was trying to make it a drabble, but I did the complete opposite lmao. Still Anon and the rest of my followers, enjoy!

Requested by: Anon

Prompt Inspiration  (#62 - “At least, tonight, we’ll still pretend, hold each other close like its not the end.”)

Word Count: 2389

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A heavy sigh escaped from in between Jason’s busted lips as his calloused hands dug into the pockets in his worn leather jacket to retrieve his lighter. Feeling the cool plastic rest in the palm of his hand, he pulled it out and placed it on the cold steel railing on the balcony. His gaze drifted to the crumpled box of cigarettes, picking it up to pluck out the single stick that had been sitting inside. With the cigarette resting in between his parted lips, he lit the stick, letting the flames illuminate the blankness in his blue eyes.

Taking a long drag from his cigarette, Jason pulled it from his lips and rested his palms on the cool steel railing before pushing his body backward and bowing his head out of exhaustion. He stood up straight and exhaled the smoke before bringing the burning cigarette back to his lips for another drag. 

Tell them. It’s for the best.

He shook his head, scrunching his nose at the nagging, little voice in his mind that had been talking to him for the last couple of days. He ran a hand through his disheveled black locks before resting his hand back on the cool railing. Putting the cigarette back in between his lips, he let his hands run back and forth across the cool railing, trying to distract his mind from the voice that was trying to help him.

The sliding door pulled him out of his disorganized mind, making him divert his attention to sudden noise behind him. Turning his head to look at the door, he saw you stepping out onto the balcony with your arms folded tightly across your chest. A faint smile crept onto Jason’s lips to mirror yours, but the moment his eyes caught sight of the thin scar stretching down your cheek to towards your chin, his smile faded and he turned around to look out into the dark city below.

“I thought I’d find you out here.”

Slowing nodding, Jason pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and put it out in the ashtray, “Uh, yeah,” He waved the cigarette smoke out of the air so you could come to stand beside him, “I just thought to get some fresh air, that’s all.”

A small chuckle fell from your lips, “Last time I checked, cigarettes don’t give fresh air, I believe they do the opposite.” You slowly came to stand by his side, looking out into the city, watching the headlights of the many cars coming off the bridge before disappearing behind the towering buildings.

“Ah, those things are one the very bottom of my list of things trying to kill me, trust me,” He glanced at you before looking at his hands, hearing the little voice in his head get louder the longer the silence between you two lingered.

Don’t wait until it’s too late. Do it now.

You turned to rest your back on the railing, giving yourself a clear view to look at Jason’s healing face and see that something was clearly troubling him. You leaned closer to him, trying to see his face in the little moonlight that was available, but it was useless; his face was turned away from you and his hand didn’t reach for yours like he used to.

“Something wrong?”

Jason turned to face you, but his troubled gaze failed to meet yours. “No.” Nodding your head in understanding that you weren’t going to get him to talk right away, you let out a sigh and turned around to face the city once more while moving closer to Jason’s side. He tensed at the feeling of your body against his, but he didn’t say anything. Not knowing what was wrong with him, you gave him some space before reaching for his hand.

The moment your hand rested on top of his, he sucked in a breath and pulled his hand out from under yours and exhaled, looking at the ground before looking at your puzzled face, “We need to talk.”

“Okay…” you looked at him, trying to figure out if it was something about his family or his jobs that was bugging him, but he always hid his emotions well, “Uh, do you wanna go inside or?”

“No, we can stay out here,” Jason shook his head, running another shaky hand through his hair before letting it rest at his side, “I—Look, it’s—We need to talk about us.”

Hearing the word “us” made you uneasy. You didn’t think there was any visible problem with you two being together and his family didn’t express any concerns either, so you wonder what he could be talking about. Maintaining the soft smile on your lips, you looked up at him with your gentle gaze, urging him to continue.

“Okay, let’s talk about us.” You leaned your hip against the railing, watching him struggle to get the words out of his mouth; every time his lips parted, a stutter and a slight exhale of air came from his mouth, but no words.

Jason gripped the railing before taking a moment to shut his eyes and take a deep breath. The voice in his head grew soft and guided him to the words he was looking for.

“I think we need to take a break.”

After hearing those words, the pain in your chest was growing, feeling as if Jason reached inside your chest to rip out your heart slowly. You struggled to keep the smile on your face, but letting that phrase roll around in your mind in his voice made it harder to look happy. 

Your silence forced Jason to turn and look at your slack expression. His gaze saw the corners of your lips falling into a tight, thin lip and it made his own chest ache to see your happy self be extinguished by his own words.

“I don’t mean for us to part ways with bad thoughts, I just think that, at least for now, it would be for the best.” Jason’s voice was soft, yet the words he spoke were leaving weights on your chest and mind.

“What, uh, what brought you to this decision?” You asked, trying to hold back the tears that were forming in your eyes by looking up at the night sky and holding the sides of your face.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking recently,” He began, his fingers fiddling with the noisy zipper on his jacket, trying to find a way to say what he needed to say without inflicting too much damage that he had already done with a simple sentence, “A lot about my life and yours… what went down a couple of weeks ago…” He paused, letting his eyes slowly move across your face to look at the scar, letting his eyes take in the result of him not being there for you in time.

Feeling his eyes bore into your scar, your hand gently brushed the raised, fresh pink skin before turning your head so he couldn’t look anymore. Taking a step closer towards him, you didn’t move to grab his hand, but merely let your tranquil presence help soothe him from his overworked brain.

“Jason…” You reached for his arm as he looked away from you towards the ground, “I thought we already talked about that…”

“We did, but it’s still eating me alive,” He gestured to himself as he gave you a quick glance, “You might’ve gotten over it, but I didn’t. I can’t,” a shaky breath left him while he ran a hand through his hair, “That was one of the worst days of my life...seeing you just laying there, not even moving…It scared the hell out of me…” 

Shutting his eyes, he saw your beaten form laying on the cool concrete, your hair turning a crimson as it soaked up the blood oozing from your face. He shook his head, rubbing his temples as if it would help erase the memory from his mind. He backed away from you, trying to get some space to breathe.

“Hey,” You soothed him from your spot, using your soft voice as a way of calming him, “Jason, I’m here. I’m still here. I wouldn’t be if you never came. That night...everything happened so fast, I don’t put any fault on you for any of your actions. The whole thing was unexpected, but we just have to be thankful that it was only one night and not a week, a month, or heavens forbid, a year or more.”

“I wasn’t there quick enough,” Jason’s tone was broken, “If I had gotten there sooner, I wouldn’t have found you in the shape you were in; I mean just look that scar, it’s nasty compared to the ones I’ve had,” His hands pointed to the scar on your face, making your cheeks grow a slight red at the sudden spotlight on your face, ”You can’t tell me that you don’t look in the mirror and wish that the night never happened... If I was more prepared, I wouldn’t have had to save you that night.”

“Jason,” His name almost tasted bitter as it fell from your lips, “I knew the risks when we got together, you did too. You can’t be so sensitive about situations like this,” You took a step closer towards him, coming to stand beside him once more, your sight becoming blurry with the tears that were welling on your bottom lid, “It was only one time. We need to just move on.”

“It wasn’t just one time, alright?” Jason’s voice grew louder, his eyes staring deep into yours, “It wasn’t the first time that I heard your name while I was out on jobs. They knew about you for a while and even though I did my best to erase your existence from their thoughts, your name always seemed to find a way to fall from their busted lips. Don’t you see, once you become tied up in criminal affairs, it's hard to untangle yourself, let alone try to disappear.”

You stood in silence, listening to his words, trying to process them so you wouldn’t hurt so much. Jason grabbed your hand from the railing and gave it a firm squeeze, not even bothering to give you a look that would help you soothe your own aching heart.

He moved your hand to the railing, yet his hand lingered on top of yours, “All it takes is one time for it to happen. One day you can be here with me and the next day you could be gone...I don’t want to live my entire life playing a game of risk, especially with a person I love.”

You broke the silence that seemed to form in between you, “I love you too, Jason,” You turned your head to look up at him, the tears in your eyes beginning to silently roll down your cheeks as you knew that there was nothing you could say to change his mind, yet you humored yourself, “We can work something out, we always find something that—”

“I don’t think that’s going to work this time.”

With your mouth still slightly open, you choked on a sob, holding it in just until you backed away to the other side of the balcony so you could be alone. Jason didn’t turn to look at you, but he could feel your pain alongside his own. He didn’t want things to end between you two, but he wanted you both to be safe rather than sorry.

A heavy sigh left Jason’s parted lips, his eyes shutting for a moment before he found the courage to push himself off the railing and slowly make his way over to your trembling form on the other side of the balcony. He didn’t know how to comfort you after all that was said but he didn’t want to leave both of you on a bad note.

“Hey,” His voice was soft while he held out his arms, “Come here.” He slowly pulled you into his warm embrace, feeling your whole body shaking as your cries gave off a little sound into the quiet night air. 

Jason hushed you, patting down the hair on the back of your head as he swayed the both of you back and forth. With your face buried deep into his chest, he leaned his head down to kiss the crown of your head, letting his lips linger before turning to let his cheek rest on top of your head.

“Just know that I still want a future with you, but in order to have one, you need to be alive. Our time just isn’t now, but it will be soon, I promise,” Jason whispered, rubbing small circles on your back to get you to stop your tears, “I don’t want to see you upset, but I had to do this. It’s better for you to have a broken heart now than a broken neck.”

Still not saying anything, you just nodded your head in agreement; you let yourself finally understand what his true purpose for this painful talk was and you still felt the weight in your chest, but it wasn’t as heavy.

With a soft sigh, Jason shut his eyes, trying to soak in this moment before it ended, “Look, at least, tonight, we’ll still pretend,” he paused, “hold each other close like its not the end.”

Pulling away from his embrace, you turned to look up at his face, taking in his sad smile and the pain in his eyes. Before he could say anything else, you gently pulled him lower to have his lips meet yours. He didn’t object, but there was a slight hesitation on his side. He pulled you close and caressed the side of your face as your hands rested against his chest.

Breaking apart from one another, you looked everywhere but at each other. Jason reached for your hand and gave it a firm squeeze before pulling you towards the door. Bringing you two inside, Jason guided you two to the bedroom where you both laid for the remainder of the night, not even bothering to sleep but instead choosing to remember the moment as if it could or would truly be your last together.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #252

my personal laptop has to be fixed, so therefore i don’t have games to play, so expect plenty of these to pass the time lmao.

Have you ever said something just to see what kind of reaction you’d get? No, not that I remember. Have you ever confronted someone about using too much chat-speak? ??? No??? Have you ever revealed someone’s secret, after promising not to tell? No. Secrets are one thing I'm very serious about respecting. What is one emotion that you experience regularly? STRESS, MOTHERFUCKER. Describe the last major change you made concerning your hairstyle? Lopped it all off, lmao. It's been like, two years now though. Who was the last person to walk out of your life, and why? It feels like my friend Alex. She's kinda just... left me hanging for months. I think she's active online, but not with me, despite reaching out. She's also deleted her b.net account or just removed me from her friends list, idk. Absolutely nothing seems like it would've prompted that, though. Are you less likely to approach people that look/dress a certain way? I was going to say no, but the last person's answer inspired mine to yes; like, I'm not going to go talk to people with some crazy or offensive shit on their shirts, nor am I going to just go walk up to someone covered in blood. Name one embarrassing activity that you take part in? I don't know. Like I say enough I'm VERY self-conscious of revealing I RP, but only because I'm sensitive to how the person will respond. I'm in no way like, ashamed I do it. I'm just terrified of judgment over something "unusual." Ever been told that you can’t understand love due to your age? Not that I remember. I only claimed to "get it" (to my recollection) at a point in mine and Jason's relationship, and I very legitimately would've guffawed at and honestly nearly slapped you if you claimed I "didn't understand" love. What is your favorite Starburst candy flavor? THE PINK ONES. Do you think that you act like yourself while online? I act more like myself online. Have you ever lied about something to get someone to like you? No. Who is the fakest person in your life right now? I don't keep those people in my life. Have you ever laid down in the grass, and made shapes out of the clouds? As a kiddo. When someone’s constantly negative, how do you deal with it? It depends on the person, but ALMOST in all cases, I really really try to support the person as best I can. It may start to bring me a bit down, but I feel I'm just like... hardwired to help those I love. I think it's what my relationship with Jason did, as he left because he couldn't handle my depression anymore, and with how that absolutely and utterly annihilated me, I don't want anyone else to feel that pain. Now, for people I don't have much of a bond with, it's easier for me to say "I'm sorry, but I can't handle this right now," but even then, I prefer to help. Does Christmas make you feel like a kid again? No. I'm really most excited for aunt reasons, lol. Do you have any artistic talent? Some. Would you ever shoplift from a store if you knew you wouldn’t be caught? Absolutely not. When one of your pets dies, how do you react? Usually cry. I've only ever not done so if I hadn't at all formed a bond with the animal. When you go to the movies, where in the theater do you sit? Close to the front, in the middle. When was the last time you lost your appetite? I don’t know. Have you ever neglected to take care of yourself? Er. Quite badly during '16, in the depth of my depression. I'll just say my teeth are kinda yellow because of it. I want to whiten my teeth at some point if I can afford that kind of luxury. The last song/poem/story you wrote - what was it about? In RP, the most recent section being written now is my main protagonists receiving a visit from their allies before getting their asses torn up the next day lmao. After a fight, who apologizes first - you, or the other person? Usually me, but it does depend. If I genuinely feel I didn't do jackshit wrong, no, I'm not apologizing. When you’re feeling creative, what do you do? Write. Do you mind being in your house alone overnight? Not really by now. Done so a number of times. Are there any dreams you remember from childhood? Nightmares, yes, and one very realistic dream. What worries you most about death? Not knowing what happens afterwards. Do you watch really old tv shows or movies from the 1970s or earlier? I love The Munsters, I Love Lucy, The Beverly Hillbillies, and The Addams Family. I'm sure there's more, considering I liked to watch stuff with my mom as a kid. Who’s your celebrity crush(es)? HHHHHHHHHHNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG Ever been to a rave? No. Are you afraid to name the person you talk the most shit about? I don't really do that. Like I'll vent about people occasionally, but "talk shit" seems like the wrong word. I don't like gossiping. Are you a jealous person? Envious, rather, sometimes. I get VERY envious when it comes to photography, but otherwise, I don't feel it much. Who do you text the most out of your friends? Sara is like the only friend I text, lol. What would you do if you saw a complete stranger dealing drugs in public?
 Honestly, call an authority. I don't fuck with that. I'm not watching it happen. How often do you play video games? What are some of your favourites?
 I played World of Warcraft daily until my laptop took a shit. Need to get that fixed. Now I play actual video games very rarely... but mostly just because you can only replay the same ole game so many times before you've had enough of it for like a year. There are a great number of new games I want to play, though. I want a PS4 soooo badly. What are a few things that get on your nerves when it comes to Facebook (or your social networking site of choice)?
 More than anything, posting something that's crying for attention only for the person to be like "ugh I don't wanna talk about it." Then don't fucking post it. What are three things you’ve started to like lately? I feel like I haven't found new interests in a long time... Wait! I do feel The Handmaid's Tale and the Wings of Fire book Sara lent me have revived my love of reading! :') I want to go to the book store when I can and get both the new sequel to THT and the next WoF book. What was the last reason for having butterflies in your stomach?
 *shrug* Do you need a lot of space in relationships, or are you happy to spend a lot of time with your SO?
 I need SOME alone time, but for the most part I love being together. Once we're really close, anyway. What was the last thing you cooked from scratch? Scrambled eggs. Have you ever won anything from those games in arcades?
 Yeah. Funny story, there was this one time my sister won a stuffed duck from a claw machine, and it was the one I wanted after trying many times, and I cried so hard that one of the employees literally got one out for me lmfao. I probably still have it in the attic. When was the last time you went out to a fair?
 Not since right before the breakup. How far is the nearest zoo or wildlife park from your house? Do you go often?
 Like, two hours. We almost never go because of the distance. Are either one of your parents retired? If not, what do they do for a living?
 No. My dad's been a mailman all my life, and Mom is currently on disability because she has cancer and obviously can't work because of chemotherapy and all that. She was a pharmacy tech, though. If you could change one physical trait about yourself, what would it be?
 Can all this weight like vanish please. Have you ever gone out with someone you didn’t like?
 ????? Why would I do that???? Well, I didn't yet like-like Tyler because we hadn't been reunited as friends long enough; dating was kinda like... a dumb way to re-get to know each other? Thank fuck that was only two weeks. Would you ever take a bullet for your significant other? I'm single. Would you ever work at a fast food restaurant?
 No. History shows I can't work with people. Are you good at haunted houses, or do you scream your head off?
 AHHHHHHHHHHH I LOVE!!!!!!!!!!! If you’ve seen it, what did you think of the Twilight movie?
 I never watched them. Have you ever gotten your tongue stuck on a frozen pole?
 No. Are you a cat or a dog person?
 Cat. Does the movie Titanic make you cry?
 Ha ha, yes. I watched it on movie day while at the psych hospital and all of us were lil bitches almost sobbing, lol. Because it's a long movie, it went past our allotted time, but the nurses decided to let us finish it because we were so into it. I do have some good memories from those times... Do you think that fat people should wear skinny jeans? I think people can wear whatever the fuck they want without fear of judgment. Do you prefer game systems like Xbox, or older ones like Super Nintendo? The former. Do you enjoy indie music? Yep! What is the most strange piercing you’ve ever seen? Those ones people were getting on their fingers instead of rings... just huh. What do you do when you’re waiting in line at the grocery store? Look around, I guess. Think. What is your favourite beach to go to? I haven't been to enough to know. Have you ever been to a country club? No. Have you ever seen an animal die in real life? Too many times. Animals have been euthanized in my arms, and a kitten slowly died in my hands once. One of the most heartbreaking things I have ever experienced. Teddy accidentally punctured its lungs or broke ribs, I think, or something like that. I'm pretty sure he was trying to bring it back to its siblings because it wandered off, but he held it too tightly. I was home alone, too. It was fucking awful. Do you live on a Rd, St, Blvd, Ln, Way, or Ave? Road. Do you have naked pictures of someone saved on your phone? No. Would you ever go see an opera? Bitch I played Parasite Eve, I don't trust that shit. But seriously, no, not my scene. Do you own anything John Deere? No. Do you have a push mower or a mower that you ride on? Neither. A friend mows for us; he has the latter. What is the longest amount of time you’ve been stuck in traffic for? No clue. I think during a trip to New York. Would you consider joining the air force, army, etc? No. Who was your first crush and what made them special? This kid named Dylan. I thought he was super cute and cool. What is one thing nobody knows about you because nobody ever cared to ask? I dunno. Who did you idolize growing up? Steve Irwin. Do you believe that we are all here for a reason? What might the reason be? No. Have you ever carved your name or initials into a tree or stone? No. What were your best and worst subjects in school or college? Best: English. Worst: math. Name something you would like to devote more time to seeing or doing. Writing poetry. Drawing. Do you like to get your nails done? No. Do you remember the last movie you saw while on a date? Yeah, IT. Do you like to wear dresses? Hell no with my current body. Do you like any ‘manly’ activities like hunting, fishing, or camping? I find fishing to be fun and relaxing, but because of morals, I can't stomach doing it anymore. What was the name of your first boyfriend? First with the title, Aaron. First *real* boyfriend, Jason. Your first kiss? Jason. Are you still with either of those people from the last 2 questions? No. Have you ever used your bra to hold things like you would a pocket? Ha ha no. I think. What is your longest relationship to date? Three years, 7-8 months. I don't remember if the breakup was in August or September. Who ended the last relationship you were in? It was kinda like... mutual-ish, but moreso her. Have you ever gotten back with an ex? No. Who was your first prom date? Jason. Do you cry during romantic movies? Sometimes. Who was the last person to see you cry? Mom. Have you ever been used? I don't think so romantically, but in other ways, I know I have been. Have you ever felt violated? Yes. Do you like when a guy takes you by surprise and kisses you? Not everyone likes guys, so what an assumption. But anyway, only if we're very serious and have heavy trust in one another. Do you ever leave the house without makeup? Pretty much always. When was the last time someone gave you flowers? Been a few years. What kind of gift can win you over? BITCH buy me something Mark-related and you earn like 20 points. Has anyone ever sung to you? Yes. Do you like massages? Depends on who you are. In almost any case, no. They're awkward. Have you ever been skinny dipping? No. Do you sleep naked? No. Is smoking a turn-off? Yes. Is there a certain tv show you get upset if you miss? No. When was the last time you spent the night at someone else’s house? When I was at Sara's a year or so back. What is one food you always crave? Ice cream. Are you an exercise freak? Hunny- What scares you more, spiders or snakes? Snakes don't scare me, so spooders. Do you expect to be married in the next two years? No. Would you ever get implants? Nah. Have you ever had a crush on a sibling’s friend? No. Have you ever had a crush on a friend’s sibling? No. Are you more of a 'girly girl’ or a 'tomboy’? A tomboy. Have you ever dated someone with a child? No. Are you addicted to texting? No.

[herohawks]

Five times Connor is forced to call Hank “dad”. They both suffer.

A/N: short little snippets im writing while my wrist is out of commission. dont know if im going to post them to ao3 since  kinda crack-ish lmao. feel free to send me prompts.

---

PART 1

“Remind me again why we agreed to this shit?”

Connor hefts a box onto his shoulder and balances another on his hip. Hank is struggling to carry one. The bottom of the cardboard is not taped adequately to withstand the current weight. Hank had been the one to tape this particular box, but Connor thinks it best not to point this out.

“We agreed to take the case because we are one of the few within the DPD who specialize in android-human crime. And, as Captain Fowler pointed out, our particular skill sets will allow us to infiltrate this group much easier than our other coworkers,” Connor says as he leads the way to the front door of their new home.

Hank snorts, uneven steps following not far behind. “Skill sets. Yeah. That what they’re calling it these days?”

“That’s what the captain called it, yes.” Connor deftly switches the box on his hip to his knee, balancing it between his leg and the wall so he can fish out the house key the captain had entrusted to him.

The key latches in easily and Connor swings the door open with little fanfare. He allows Hank to go first under the guise of trying to get a better grip on the box he’s currently holding over his knee. The structural integrity of Hank’s box is nearly at its limit.

“Well,” Hank huffs, dropping the box onto the living room floor with a muffled thump. Connor sets his down much more gently. “Jeffrey has always been too nice for his own good, so I’m gonna set it to you straight. You look like a goddamned twink and Jeffrey thinks your scrawny ass will fit in real well with these other skinny, starving college kids. I’m here to make sure you don’t screw it up.”

Connor looks to the ceiling and sighs. It’s a mannerism he’s picked up from Detective Reed that he quite likes. It accurately and efficiently sums up what he wishes to convey with little effort on his part.

“I am not ‘scrawny’,” Connor says, a tad defensive. “Second, the term ‘twink’ is widely outdated and carries negative conn—“

“Connor. Do me a favor and shut the fuck up.” Hank stretches his back, then groans loudly when it pops. “Jesus, I’m too old for this shit.”

“You only carried one box,” Connor points out helpfully, twirling the key ring on his finger for lack of anything better to do with his hands. He itches to go bring in the other nine boxes stacked in Hank’s car.

Hank rolls his eyes so hard Connor is briefly worried that they’ll fall out their sockets. “Jesus Christ. Just – go get the other boxes, would ya?”

Connor does, and makes good time. Hank grumbles while unpacking the boxes, throwing things in a haphazard manner that must have some sort of logic to it, though it’s not one that Connor can decipher at a glance.

With Hank’s back turned to him, Connor takes the chance to run a quick scan. The lieutenant’s blood sugar is low, and Connor detects a minor muscle strain in his lower back from poor posture and lack of adequate hydration.

They still need to go grocery shopping, but Connor had packed a few granola bars and water bottles just in case. He digs them out of one of the boxes and kneels down beside Hank to hand them over. “You need to eat, Lieutenant.”

“Thanks,” he says gruffly, snatching the water and energy bar from Connor. He sets it aside so Connor leaves him be and goes to unpack the other boxes.

They settle into an easy rhythm. An hour later, Connor hears the telltale crinkle of the protein bar being unwrapped and wisely says nothing when Hank’s mood significantly improves from that point after.

What probably felt like an eternity for Hank but was in actuality three hours and thirty-two minutes, they’re finally finished settling in. Connor is pleased to note everything is where it needs to be when he does a cursory scan of the rooms. Despite Hank’s grumbling, they make a great team.

“Great work, Lieutenant,” Connor says as he comes back into the living room where Hank is currently lounging on the couch. “It seems like everything is in order.”

Hank scoffs. “Don’t act so surprised.” A pause. “And it’s not ‘Lieutenant’ right now. Don’t blow our cover.”

“You’re right. Sorry, Dad.” The moment the sentence leaves his vocal unit, a heavy silence stretches between them. Connor has a peculiar urge to exit the room and not return for maybe forever.

“Okay. That was fucking weird,” Hank says finally, breaking the tense hush that had fallen over the room. He runs a hand over his beard, eyes flicking around but never settling on one thing for long.

Connor feels some of the tenseness in his shoulders melt away at the implication that Hank, too, may be feeling some measure of awkwardness. “I agree.”

“Shit. We need to get our shit together before we’re seen in public.”

“It’ll take some getting used to,” Connor admits, and runs a finger along the outer seam of his jeans. They’re not as comfortable nor as flexible as the pants CyberLife had issued him, but it’s currently the style preference of many young adults, and Connor has to blend in. He still misses his own pants, though.

“Want to go grab a bite and forget this ever happened?” Hank asks as he pulls himself up from the couch with a grunt.

Connor does. “Yes. I would like that.”

Hank makes a valiant effort to throw his crumpled wrapper into the small waste bin set along the floor separating the kitchen and living room. He misses. Connor quietly goes over and places the wrapper in the bin.

“Thanks. Hey, don’t forget your glasses,” Hank says and Connor can’t help but wrinkle his nose. Hank laughs. “What, not a fan?”

“You know I’m not,” Connor says, a little cross. Nevertheless, he unhooks it from his shirt and puts them on. They constantly slip down the bridge of his nose. “It’s impractical.”

Hank does not care about his suffering. “It’s your disguise so quit complaining. You’re not the only one who had to make some changes.”

The lieutenant scruffs a self-conscious hand over his freshly cut hair. It’s shorn short with the top a little longer – it looks good, Connor thinks. Makes him appear younger and highlighting the blues of his eyes.

Connor’s glasses, on the other hand, do not look good. They’re clunky and annoying, and Connor thinks they sit awkwardly on his face. The urge to snap them in half is strong.

“They look fine,” Hank says with the tone of someone who’s said this many, many times, which he has. Connor does not believe him any of those times. “Hurry up. I’m starving.”

“Fine.” Connor is getting better at expressing his displeasure through his tone, but Hank tends to ignore this new development as he does with anything he finds inconvenient.

They decide to walk. More accurately, Connor decides that if they’re going to order something unhealthy, they can, at the very least, walk there. Hank is not pleased. Connor doesn’t care.

  A mile and a half later, a small lot with a few food trucks parked in a messy half-circle comes into view. Hank makes a beeline for the hotdog truck so Connor trails behind him. Hank orders a hotdog with only one topping at Connor’s insistence, and Connor buys a small vanilla milkshake to maintain appearances.

  The lot is very crowded, but they manage to snag a table near the sidewalk and away from most of the congested foot-traffic. There’s a light drizzle so Connor pops open the umbrella attached to the table. The atmosphere reminds him of their meeting at the Chicken Feed all those months ago, when Hank had been skeptical and Connor had been apologetic and insistent.

  That had been one of their first, positive conversations. It’s a fond memory, one that Connor keeps tucked away in his memory files for safekeeping.

  “So,” Hank says, snapping Connor out of his musings. “Excited about your first day of school tomorrow?” Hank is grinning so Connor levels him with an unimpressed look. “What? A father can’t have a healthy interest in his son’s education?”

  Connor sets his plastic cup down firmly. “No.”

  “Don’t be like that,” Hank laughs and Connor shakes his head, rubbing his fingers along his temple in a gesture he’s seen Hank do many times.

  His fingers stutter over the place where his LED used to be, the synthetic skin smooth to the touch. He feels oddly naked without it. Vulnerable. He wouldn’t mind the glasses half as much if he could just have his LED back.

  Something must show on his face because Hank’s smile fades a few seconds later, replaced with a worried expression. “Hey, kid. You alright?”

  “Fine,” Connor says a touch too quickly. Hank’s eyebrows shoot up, clearly unconvinced. He runs a finger one more time over his temple before placing it back on the table. “Nervous, maybe.”

  “Hmm. About school?” The way he says it implies he is talking about something else. Connor believes he is inquiring about their current undercover case, so he nods. “Don’t sweat it. You’ll be fine. You’re smart, and a fast learner. You’ll fit right in.”

  Connor has his doubts. While he’s done extensive research into the university as well as updating his human integration program to include the most recent pop culture and dialect, Connor can’t help the uneasiness that settles in the pit of his stomach. Maybe Hank is right. Perhaps this is beyond their capabilities.

  Connor keeps silent and pretends to sip his milkshake.

College is…an experience.

Connor takes the automated bus despite Hank’s insistence he drive him there. The walkways are constantly flooded with harried students and Connor finds himself having to fight the crowd more often than not.

He observes that many of his peers carry some type of overly-caffeinated beverage on them at all times (there had been a memorable moment when Connor’s sensors had picked up vodka disguised as water in someone’s water bottle, but he’d kept the information to himself). After this observation, Connor stopped by the local coffee shop on campus to purchase a small, black coffee. It reminds him of Hank.

His classes had been fairly boring, but Connor supposes that is to be expected. Hank had told him university was probably going to be uninteresting to an android that could calculate over a thousand possible scenarios in two seconds. Connor had promptly told him it actually takes him an average of 0.53 seconds to compute those scenarios, which had resulted in Hank scuffing him across the head.

Connor, despite his reservations, slots into college life seamlessly. Finding the group responsible for the android hate crimes disguised as hazing is almost too simple. They arrest the group three months later once he’s obtained the proper amount of evidence, plus some. Connor wishes they’d at least make it a challenge.

Overall, a success.

“Good job on your first undercover op,” Hank says over dinner.

Here, Connor doesn’t have to pretend to eat. He hadn’t realized how exhausting it is to pretend to be human. His LED is firmly reinstalled, and Connor brings his fingers up to brush it periodically, the familiar ridges soothing.

Sumo lies by their feet, tail thumping happily every time Connor or Hank looks his way. The Saint Bernard had missed them dearly in their four months apart.

“Thank you.” Connor is pleased with the results. His whole body feels warm, but jittery at the same time, like he has excess energy that can’t be contained. He bounces his leg, he twiddles his fingers, and shifts his posture every few seconds. “I’m glad we were able to bring them to justice.”

“Nah,” Hank says after swallowing a bite of his vegetarian stir-fry (Connor’s making, of course). “You’re just happy you don’t have to wear those dorky glasses anymore.”

“So you agree, then. That they looked bad.” Connor feels betrayed. Hank had told him they’d looked fine. Hank is a filthy liar.

Hank snorts and shovels more food into his mouth before replying. “What’d you do with them anyway?” Avoiding Connor’s sort-of question.

Connor rolls his shoulders in a self-satisfied way, and shoots Hank a sly grin. “On the record, I disposed of them in the appropriate recycling bin. Off the record, they may have ended up in a bonfire at the last party I attended as a college student.”

Hank barks a laugh and slaps the table. Connor smiles, too. “Shit,” Hank says, wiping his eyes. “You make me proud, kid.”

“Thank you.”

“Tell ya what, though. Having you call me ‘dad’ for four months was probably the most awkward four months of my life. As long as we don’t gotta do that shit again, I can die happy,” Hank says, taking a sip of his water.

Connor nods. “Agreed.”

[linkverse]

this is the first prompt i’ve taken on!! i still haven't gotten to the others but don’t worry i will!! as far as the length of these... i’m kind of just winging it until i’m satisfied with it.

this features completely mute!Link and an OMC named Ryn who will steal your heart if i did this right lmao 

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He has a lot of time after the battle. It's all short days and long nights. He doesn't seem to sleep much. He's always tried to abstain front the regular recreational activities that the locals are accustomed to. Eventually it catches up with him. He's restless. He spent so many sleepless nights in his journey that he forgot what it was like to lay his head down without any worries lingering in the back of his mind. He needed an outlet. That much was clear. Zelda tells him to start small, and try to start enjoying his life again.

“You should try and enjoy yourself. Who knows when the land will fall victim to chaos again.”

It's not something he wanted to think about, but he supposes that she's right. She's far too busy for him though. She doesn't have any time to go gallivanting around with him. He spent some time home for a short while. He was home for a solid seven days before he rose one morning and decided that he just couldn't work at the ranch any longer. There was a jitter in his bones. There was a fire dancing in his heart. There was a voice screaming in his war-conditioned mind that he needs more. He can't tend to goats like he used to.

So he sets out with Epona to see if they can find a way to get close to a different way of existing. He loves her, she's his companion, but sometimes it's not enough. Since his circumstances would allow it, he craves company; any company that will have him.

As much as he'd like to think he’s immune to it, he's lonely. Saving everyone was never about the recognition. It was the right thing to do regardless. But it didn't feel as worth it when he's left with no one at the end of it all. The loneliness hurts most at night. He feels an ache in his chest when he wakes from dreams of Midna amongst the stream of nightmares that he usually has.  He loved her as he would a comrade in battle. But overtime his heart softened to her. When he saw her restored to her natural form, his heart sped with wonder and affection. And for a moment, only a moment, he saw himself happy. Happy with her.

But their worlds were never meant to mix. And so they exist realms away now.

He’ll find a way to come to terms with it and smile back at the memories that he has of their time. He always can make light when there seems to be nothing but darkness.

He finds himself at Telma’s. He doesn't recognize some of the faces there. Ever since the kingdom was taken back, Castle Town has been thriving. He decides that maybe it's not such a bad idea to relax and have a drink. He can think of a lot of people that would want him to. Maybe even encourage it. Just one though. He's never liked the idea of impairment. He likes to be clear headed always.

Shad is there reading. He doesn't know why the guy doesn't just do that in a library. He sees a few soldiers that he recognizes but can't remember their names. There are two people sitting at the bar. Link was going to find a place in-between them but he decides last minute to sit at the end where he's out of conversational range.

Which is silly because he came here to socialize and be normal, didn’t he? If he was so lonely he should do something about it. But here he is again putting himself in the corner.

Telma greets him with an affectionate gesture. Her hand ruffles his hair that's become a bit unruly in recent weeks. She runs her hand along the stubble on his chin and laughs. He slaps her hand away lightly, feeling self conscious. He could be blushing, who knows. She has a habit of embarrassing him like that. Around Telma he constantly has to convince himself that he's the grown man that he knows he is.

She tells him she'll be right back and he sees her briefly converse with the other customers at the bar. He sighs out heavily, feeling foolish. He isn't sure what he's doing here. This was a stupid idea.

Suddenly a something slides down the bar and amber liquid swishes from side to side for a moment in the shallow glass. He looks up questioningly and Telma is striding back over to him. She's got a devious little smirk painted on her face as she leans in to speak.

She rests on her elbows the bar and points subtly over to one of the patrons down across the way.

“That young man down there said you look like you could use a drink, honey.” She winks at him.

He looks down the bar. He's not sure why everyone thinks he should drink but he's curious who the stranger is. He's looking over with a glint in his dark eyes as he sips his own drink. He has dark brown hair pulled back in a short ponytail, and stray hair strewn out around his face. His skin is fairly tanned by the sun and his clothes are utterly plain. His shirt isn't laced up tight enough, leaving his chest slightly exposed. Link thinks he looks silly. But then he figures it's one of those instances where he's coming up with internal unspoken insults to hide his own embarrassment.

He feels foolish; he doesn't know if he can actually drink the liquid in front of him. He's slightly afraid of intoxication. He wholly and completely trusts himself... but he's heard stories about what alcohol can make people do. He's not fond of the possibilities. He snaps his head away from the man… or boy… or however old he is Link can't even tell. He stares at the drink instead. He hears a chuckle from his general direction. He makes Link uncomfortable, but in a familiar sort of way.

It reminds of something that he can't put his finger on. He's getting antsy. Telma is looking over at him with a slight frown. She nods her head, urging him to accept the drink form the stranger. He picks it up. He's going to sniff it but think maybe it would look rude. So instead he downs it. Which was, in all senses of the phrase, easier said than done. The liquid burns on its way down. He feels like he's okay besides the awful sharp taste of it. But then his stomach feels warmer than usual. He feels a little fuzzy but not quite dizzy. Then he realizes he didn't finish all of it. He goes for it and chokes a little, coughing as he grips the counter.

There a hand patting him on the back hard and it gets him to sit up straight as one final cough leaves him. He looks back gripping his chest through his tunic. It's him.

“Sorry.” He laughs mischievously. “You alright?”

Link blinks hard and then shakes his head yes.

“What's your name?”

Link sighs. This is always the hardest part.

“Alright.” His eyes shift behind his dark bangs. Link sees now that his eyes are dark grey. “Well I'm Ryn.”

Link wishes he would sit instead of hover.

“I don't get your name?” He questions softly, and Link feels a little out of his depth.

Suddenly Telma is there and she has a hand on her hip. Link gulps and nods when she looks at him.

“His name is Link.” She says quick and then turns away, looking busy.

“He can't tell me himself?” He says a little too loudly. It makes Link shrink in on himself more. This is not his element.

He doesn't have to be able to speak to wield a sword.

Telma storms back over, clearly impatient with the rambunctious customer.

“No.” She scolds. “He can't.”

And Link watches Ryn’s reaction as Link palms his neck. He tries to show some kind of affirmation through his expression. Something looks like its clicking. The gears are turning.

“You can't speak?” He asks.

Link shakes his head no.

Ryn sits down on the stool next to Link, looking contemplative enough to make Link laugh.

“Sorry.” He mumbles. “Sorry, that was rude.” He looks at Links face and waits for a reaction because that's all he can really hope for. Link smiles. Ryn smiles back. Maybe this isn't so difficult after all.

Link likes to listen to him talk. Ryn has a lot to say. He's a traveler, so Link can relate. He's from a land that Link is sure he's never heard of. He doesn't stay in one place for very long but he doesn't really have anywhere he's going either.  There's probably nothing wrong with that.

They have another drink. Link doesn't down this one in one go, thankfully.

He makes a lot of jokes and he knows a lot about fishing which piques Links interest the most. He starts to feel a little tired. He's blaming it on the drink but he wants to keep listening. Link doesn't know how many hours have passed by. But he figures it's been enough hours when he looks around and everyone is gone.

Telma is wiping down the counter with a rag.

“I'm closing up. You boys should get home.”

Wherever that is, Link thinks to himself.

When link gets up he stumbles a little. Ryn catches him with laughter rising up in his voice and makes sure he doesn't lose his balance a second time. There are hands on him, helping him up in a firm grip, feeling warm even through clothes.

“You don't drink huh?” He asks.

Link shakes his head as he regains his balance enough to successfully exit the bar. They walk in silence out of the alleyway as onto the street.  Its dark out and there isn't a soul in sight. Link tenses for some reason and it's visible.

“What's wrong? Scared of the dark?” Ryn asks teasingly.

And that's laughable because of course he isn't. He's take on the dark and much more than that. He's more afraid of human interaction than anything else. He wishes he felt as sure of himself with things like this as he did in battle.

He just smirks. Ryn can pick up on how his composure softens in the moons light. He hums to himself as he sits down on a nearby bench. He gestures for link to join him.

Link thinks he's made a friend and it's nice not to save a whole village before someone reaches out to him. He sits down. He thinks maybe they're sitting a little too close. He still isn't sure how close is too close. Personal has always been a foreign concept to him. Ryn seems unbothered by it.

“I wish…” Ryn starts, voice soft. He's looking at Links eyes. “I wish you could tell me something about you. Anything.”

Link heart seems to skip a beat. He's not sure why. There's something in the air that's making his skin buzz right under the surface. He wishes he could. But when he opens his mouth to speak the words, no sounds leave his lips. The dejection kicks in again. He's not offended... just reminded where he's lacking.

“Hey,” he says. And his hand is closed around Links, snapping his attention back up to look at his face. Ryn’s hand feels warm in the cold air of the night. “I didn't mean it like that. There's nothing wrong with that.”

Link smiles. He feels pliant with this person. He doesn't really know him. But he feels a pull regardless of that. He knows he probably won't see this person again. The thought makes him tighten his grip. He’s taught himself to ignore that feeling of becoming attached to someone. But in moments like these... quiet ones, it seems more difficult.

Ryn angles in toward him. He’s close in a way where Link thinks he's going to tell him a secret. But that’s ridiculous because there's no one here but the two of them. And then as Ryn still holds his hand, the other lightly touches his chin and lifts his head. He's awfully close, close enough to feel puffs of breath on his lips, and Link doesn't seem to know whether he should move or not.

His heart is beating hard in his chest and he's confused but waiting. Just waiting.

It's the oddest sensation when Ryn's lips touch his because it's soft. It's such a soft touch and the press of the kiss is there for only a short moment, but it rings clear in his head that this was something he was completely willing to do. It should come as a shock but he welcomes the gesture as he realizes that this is okay. He’s okay with this.

He filtered the implications of Ryn's advances through his head to somehow equate to suggesting a friendship. But it was clear that these gestures were far too tender to mistake as such a thing.

Even now as he takes in Ryn's gaze and searches Links face for a sign of rejection, Link feels his heart swell with fleeting affection.

He breathes out and leans back in. And kisses him with more force than he meant to display. But Ryn doesn't seem to mind, returning the kiss with eager lips and wandering hands.

It's strange – and it's new. Link doesn't fully understand it yet but he knows that it's something he'll let continue just to see what happens. They kiss in the moonlight, sense of time foreign to them. Ryn explores his mouth with clear intent and Links body reacts to it. He feels a little hot even out in the cold air. He feels like he can't breathe properly, lips and tongue occupied in a dance that hasn't ceased since the moment it was initiated. He reaches up to pull at his collar and Ryn pulls it open for him and slides his hand around Links neck, hands sliding over his bare skin.

Link realizes in his mind through the haze on lips on lips and hands on skin, that he would spend more time with this person. He would lie down next to this person and return affectionate touches for hours on end. He would. It's such a sudden feeling but he finds himself pulling Ryn closer. It's all he has to communicate what he wants.

They get a little lost in each other. Link wishes it could last longer but the sun will rise and he and this person will have to go their separate ways.

Ryn stand suddenly, looking flustered and mischievous. He takes hold of Links hand and leads him out past the gates and ushers him into he wagon he has in the plains outside of town. Link always imagined his first time to be with a woman. But he’s hardly upset about it being a man.

It’s all soft. He handles Link like he’s made of glass. Which is nice for a change. Ryn doesn’t speak at all. Link thinks he’s doing it on purpose as a comfort. The silence makes him remember everything.

Time passes through touches and kisses, and then eventually in slumber.

When his eyes blink awake, the sky is dim and with very dull light. It seems to be very early in the morning. Ryn is pulling clothes back over his head and Link blushes purely from the memory of their actions. Link follows suit, feeling utterly exposed. Ryn laughs softly when he takes in Links flustered actions. He kneels down and ties the fastenings of his tunic for him. Link watches as his fingers work over the buckles and ties.

He looks up at his face and kisses him sweetly.

“I hope to meet you again one day.” He whispers.

Link says goodbye with his eyes. He hopes so too.  

Time will tell.

[vinnie2757]

tagged by @spectralarchers who i still cant tag? tf tumblr

Is there a snack you like to eat while writing?

it depends on the weather??? sometimes i’ll eat sometimes i’ll drink, but usually i have nothing

What time of day do you usually write?

either when im commuting because it stops people trying to talk to me on the bus, or late at night. ive started writing more around the boy recently, and thats been quite productive

Where do you write? if im commuting its on my phone on evernote, or i write on my laptop in word, almost always in my room, unless im with the boy lol. i cant really write around other people i know, else i get distracted

How often do you write a new fic?

lmao all the time, i start a new one every other week. i used to start them every other day in my heyday, but im just tired now, the urge to write fics is really diminished now, it takes a lot to want to do it

Do you listen to music while you write?

always! i have a playlist for each piece of media i write for, but not necessarily for a fic, like i have playlists for gorillaz (one thats just their discography, and one thats music i like relevant to them) and i have a huge one for mcu which is just a mishmash of stuff, and then playlists for other stuff. if it has a dedicated and good soundtrack (see ff7) i’ll write to that, but usually nah just whatever

What’s your writing utensil? Paper or laptop?

laptop for sure, i can and do write by hand, but i tend to brainstorm and plan and scribble on paper rather than write seriously

Do you have a special pre-writing ritual? if im at home i tend to have a cup of tea, but thats only if i write in the morning, otherwise my ritual is staring at the blank document if new for ten minutes, or re-reading what i last wrote 

What do you do to get into the writing mood? lmao im never in the mood to write under my own steam any more? ive really enjoyed writing some not marvel prompts recently, im just so burnt out on marvel even tho i have a new couple fics vaguely plotted out. itd be nice to write for other fandoms again???

What do you always have near the place you write? phone and thats about it. im trying to remember to have water, but lmao my memory is bad

Do you have a reward system for word counts?

pfft no bc i never stick to it i dont do commitment

Is there anything else about your writing process your readers don’t know?

theres a lot of crying and backspacing and gritted teeth. theres no magic lol i just close my eyes and hit the keys and hope for the best

im supposed to tag people but i dont really know any writers any more??? so uh @fezwearingjellybananas @paigek9 @finnnorgana and idk if ur a writer u do it and pretend i tagged