#bonus points if you can tell what that wire behind my head goes to

[jasper-crow]

I'm waaaaay too tired to think this is a bad idea!

Check out how cute I look in my new collar y'all 💙💖💙

Aaaaaand maybe just a little bit of bra as well 💖

The lighting is terrible in these and I absolutely love it 💙

[d0llmakerd0mme]

Doll Dreamworld Brainwashing Starter Smut

Prompts: brainmelt image, dollification, brainwashing, drugging, and ur doll dreamworld fantasy world thing with the extended cnc brainwashed dolls - bonus points for gender neutral doll candidate pre-dollification

CW: CNC, genderbending, brainwashing, painplay, ageplay, sexual drug use (unspecified aphrodisiac,) descriptions of various living dolls engaging in filthy scenarios

“I just want my fucking brain to melt,” you tell the Doll Dreamworld receptionist, a tinge of desperation slipping into your tone.

She taps her stylus and pops her gum, unfazed. “I still need some details from you about how. I need to know what you need, hon. Can you specify your brainwashing goals, please?”

You cringe. She’s asked so many times in so many ways, and you still don’t have a good answer. You just want to stop *being* for a while, without having to end it all.

“May I make a suggestion?” A cool voice wraps itself around you from behind, a breeze across your skin. Your flesh prickles, but something tells you not to turn. “It sounds like this one needs Protocol 001.”

The receptionist arcs an eyebrow at the person behind you, but says, “Certainly. Would you like to look over the parameters for Protocol 001?” She taps her touchscreen a couple times, then spins the tablet to face you.

Trying not to blush as both women watch you peruse the protocol specs, you lean forward over the tablet.

PROTOCOL #: 001

DESIGNATION: DOLL INDUCTION

PARAMETERS: SUBJECT WILL BE GENTLY SEPARATED FROM THEIR SENSE OF PERSONHOOD, REDUCED TO A BLANK SLATE OF SEXUAL SUBMISSION, AND PRIMED FOR FURTHER BRAINWASHING AS A LIVING DOLL

REQUIRED SELECTIONS: HARD LIMITS, ALLERGIES, EXISTING HEALTH CONDITIONS, LENGTH OF SERVICE

OPTIONAL SELECTIONS: SOFT AVOIDANCES, DESIRED PRIMARY FUNCTION

“Oh,” you sigh, relieved that there’s a protocol for this, that you don’t have to keep *deciding* things. “Thank goodness.” You’re not *good* at deciding things. You seem to keep making the wrong decision; it’s time to let somebody else make up your mind for you. Just for a little while. Just until it makes sense to stop.

“Very good,” the receptionist says, businesslike but not unkind. “Let me just get your required selections from you; the Nurse here will just go get your pod ready while we go over all the particulars.”

You only allow yourself to look at the source of the suggestion as she walks past you. The Nurse doesn’t much like one; she’s a short, curvy woman with dimples, dressed in an iridescent vinyl bustier, frothy black petticoat, and tall leather boots under her labcoat. She has a headpiece with a mic and what looks like cat ears. She grins at you, almost hungrily, as she goes into the next room.

Suppressing an anticipatory shiver, you answer all the receptionist’s questions. She inputs them into the program, then has you sign what feels like a dozen forms. Finally, finally, she shows you to a seat by the door the Nurse went through.

You wait, nervously tapping your fingers on your thighs. Being alone with your thoughts is never a good idea, especially not for long. Especially not when you’re nervous.

“All set?” the Nurse’s cool voice punctures your ballooning thoughts with clinical efficiency. Her feral smile is strangely inviting. “Come on back, cutie; I’ve got your pod all set up.”

Trying not to blush, you stumble over yourself to follow her down a dimly lit hallway. “Do I need to—“ you start to ask, but she shakes her head.

“Don’t worry, sweetness; all the instructions will come through your headphones once I get you plugged in.” She opens a door on the left side of the hall and leads you into what looks like a strange, tiny cubicle version of a doctor’s office—like maybe one in space? At the center of the room is an iridescent vinyl table-bed-like thing with black straps and a large assortment of wires, which looks both ominous and inviting.

“Left ear,” the Nurse warns, fitting an earbud snugly into your ear with an efficient touch. “Right ear,” she says, fitting the other, then patting your face affectionately, almost like a puppy. You can’t help the slight flush to your cheeks as she hands you a small clicker with a shielded button. “Now, you can push this button if you need help, have an urgent question, or want to stop at any time, and it’ll release you from the program and I’ll come help you out, okay?”

You nod, and the Nurse beams at you. “Good dolly,” she says, patting your face again. “I’ll be right in the next room, okay?” She points at a framed mirror on the wall; presumably two-way. “I started with the same protocol, so don’t hesitate to push the button and ask for help if you need anything. I may come in and out during your program; other attendants may come and go as well. No one will touch you without the headphones warning you, okay?”

You nod, heart pounding. You should be nervous, scared, even, but mostly you’re just eager to finally let *go*.

The Nurse smiles at you again, tapping a button on her wristband, and the earbuds in your ears crackle quietly to life. The Nurse waves cheerily at you and leaves the room as the program begins.

WELCOME, SUBJECT 3004. PLEASE REMOVE ALL OF YOUR CLOTHING OTHER THAN BODY JEWELRY AND STEP INTO THE STEAM SHOWER IN THE CORNER. YOU MAY LEAVE YOUR BELONGINGS IN THE CUBBY PROVIDED.

You shiver and obey, leaving most of what ties you to the outside world in their iridescent plastic cube before stepping into the glass box shower cubical.

Strange-smelling vapor hisses out of the floor and ceiling grates, gushing warmly over your skin and beading it with moisture. It feels sharp, astringent, almost like washing your hands with alcohol, but somehow entirely different.

YOU ARE BEING WASHED WITH A MILD CLEANSING STEAM. PLEASE SPREAD YOUR ARMS INTO A T POSITION, HOLD THE WALL BAR, AND SQUAT OVER THE FLOOR GRATE WITH YOUR LEGS APART.

You hurry to obey, feeling lightheaded at the sensation of the cleansing vapor billowing into all the soft parts of your body, held open in this position.

INITIAL CLEANSE COMPLETE. PLEASE PROCEED TO THE CENTRAL BED AND ARRANGE YOURSELF ON YOUR BACK, WITH YOUR FEET IN THE STIRRUPS. SAY “READY” WHEN YOU ARE IN POSITION, AND A NURSE WILL CONNECT YOU TO THE NEXT PHASE OF THE PROGRAM.

You tiptoe across the room, already feeling a little divorced from reality by the futuristic box of a room. You climb onto the iridescent medical bed, laying back and awkwardly hoisting your feet into the stirrups, holding your legs spread and aloft. There’s no towel, sheet, or medical robe that you can see; you’re just spread open, waiting for the Nurse.

“Ready,” you say, trying not to let your voice shake.

The Nurse doesn’t make you wait long. Her smile already feels familiar and comforting in this alien room, even if you’re in a very awkward position.

You open your mouth to greet her, but she shakes her head, giggling, and puts a finger to her lips.

PLEASE RELAX AND DO NOT SPEAK. THE NURSE WILL STRAP YOU IN AND CONNECT YOU TO YOUR HYPNOTHERAPY MODULE NOW.

The Nurse fastens straps around your ankles, fixing them to the stirrups, holding your legs splayed. Next come more soft, neoprene-like straps fastened loosely around your thighs, hips, waist, ribs, underarms, biceps, and wrists. You’re well and truly pinned to the table.

A muffling darkness descends as the Nurse lowers a helmet and visor over your head.

REMAIN CALM AND ALLOW THE NURSE TO PREPARE YOU. YOUR PROGRAM WILL BEGIN ONCE YOU ARE FULLY CONNECTED.

You gasp as a thin, cool tendril—the end of a plastic tube, maybe?—nudges at your rear entrance. You instinctively clench against it, but the Nurse’s touch is firm, and the end of the tube, narrow and slick, slides inside you.

A strange pressure, and then there’s a cool burst of fluid rushing to fill your insides. You groan involuntarily, and through the headphones and helmet, you think you hear the Nurse giggle. There’s another push, and a second, bigger gush of slickness filling you up.

The end of the plastic tube withdraws, and you can feel some of the slick liquid dribble out of you after it. It’s probably lube, but there’s a strange tingling sensation from it as well—a drug, maybe? You do remember that consent form.

OPEN YOUR MOUTH.

You obey blindly, opening your lips to let a soft, silicone-covered ring gag fit between them, holding your mouth open wide. Your tongue lolls awkwardly out of the hole, already dribbling drool down your neck and chest.

SWALLOW WHAT YOU ARE GIVEN.

You shudder as a fat tube syringe slides past the ring gag and squirts something saccharinely sweet and medical-tasting over the back of your tongue and down your throat. The Nurse’s fingers stroke your throat, encouraging you to swallow until you manage it.

Your head is spinning already.

A cold metal object probes at your slick, dripping asshole, then pushes firmly inside. You gasp inarticulately as the probe seats itself deep inside you, bulbous metal head rounding off to a narrow neck so your hole relaxes around it, letting the intrusion grow almost comfortable after a moment.

Distantly, you feel the Nurse attaching electrodes to your flesh—your temples under the helmet, your armpits, nipples, navel, inner thighs, pubic mound, perineum.

IF ANY OF YOUR PROBES ARE CAUSING DISCOMFORT, PLEASE ALERT THE NURSE NOW BY PRESSING THE BUTTON IN YOUR HAND. OTHERWISE, REMAIN STILL AND SILENT FOR 30 SECONDS, AND THE PROGRAM WILL BEGIN.

You start counting backwards in your head, but the strange fuzzy feeling from whatever drugs the Nurse gave you makes you forget halfway through. You’re only a little startled when a new voice, sweet and feminine, though still almost alien, ripples through the headphones.

“Good morning, pretty dolly. Do you know who I am?”

You gurgle around the ring gag, shaking your head sluggishly.

“I’m the Main Interface Service System, or MISS. I’m here to help you become the perfect doll. Are you ready to leave all that messy real world nonsense behind and come live in the Dreamworld?”

You groan into the gag, nodding your helmeted head against the medical chair. The drugs are making the probe anchored in your ass feel *so good*. Like it’s the only thing holding you to the world.

“Good dolly. Breathe in for me, okay? Deep breath. And now out, out, out…good job, Dolly. Deep breaths. Now, when the visuals are pink, you breathe in, okay? And when they’re blue, you breathe out.”

Light flickers to life in the helmet’s visor.

“Pink, in.”

A dizzying array of pink-tinted images flash through your vision—cherry blossoms, a spread vulva, a tube of pink lipstick, a gasping mouth, a neon sign, a swollen cockhead leaking precum, a peach, an anus flared around a jeweled plug, a field of tulips, a dildo buried in a squirting cunt, a blooming rose—as you inhale.

“Blue, out.”

You exhale slowly to a cascade of blue-tinted images—a cloudy sky, clamped nipples, forget-me-nots, a beautifully-bruised ass, morning glories, a caged cock trying to swell past its bonds, a cresting wave, a clothespin-clamped clit, a bluebird’s wing, a mouth spread around a ring gag, a galactic nebula.

“Good dolly. Again. Pink, in. Blue, out.”

You obey the voice for several more iterations, until it’s only natural to inhale to pink, exhale to blue.

Then the voice continues.

“In a little while, the Nurse will take your gag out and you’ll practice repeating after me. Until then, all you have to do is breathe and watch and listen, okay, Dolly? Breathe in to pink, out to blue. Watch and listen.”

The cycling images switch to video. Every few seconds, the filter over the video changes from pink to blue, and your lungs obey the color shift completely without thought already. In to pink, out to blue.

You watch the screen inside your helmet raptly as a series of pornographic clips flash by:

A gorgeous feminine figure in a maid uniform with her legs up, wailing in agonized pleasure as her rear entrance is stretched open by two cocks at once and her own hard cock bounces, leaking, against her apron. Two men hold her up, hammering at her hole with jostling cocks. One paws at her breasts, ripping her uniform to reveal them. The other wraps his hand around the maid’s cock and begins to jerk her off. She throws her head back and screams as her cock spurts all over her uniform; the men don’t stop, continuing to fuck her as she she goes slack with boneless pleasure in their arms. One cums, his spunk leaking out around the other’s cock as the remaining stud lifts the maid up himself and fucks into her stretched hole furiously, making her wail and kick her legs as the overstimulation takes hold. The spent man shoves his sticky cock into the maid’s wailing mouth and holds her head down til she gags and sucks it clean. The second man cums hard, slamming the maid down onto his cock several times before pulling out and shoving her into the arms of the first man, the one she’s sucking. Without pause, the second man kneels down behind the maid and begins licking the mess of cum out of her leaking hole.

A pretty woman in a princess dress and a tiara is bent over the arm of a velvet chaise, her bare bum in the air. Another woman, dressed like a young schoolgirl, is giggling while forcing the legs of a Barbie doll into the princess’ pussy. Another doll is sticking out of the princess’ asshole, buried to her narrow waist. The princess is weeping prettily while her holes are played with, the schoolgirl gleefully forcing repeated agonized, squirting orgasms out of her living princess doll with the Barbie’s buried legs.

A young woman in a babydoll nightgown and thin panties is bound splayed to a bed by her wrists and ankles. There’s a pacifier gag in her mouth, and her hair is braided into pigtails. Another woman pets between the babydoll’s spread legs, then slaps the babydoll’s pussy, watching smugly as the panties go dark with moisture. The woman slaps again and again, making the babydoll scream into her paci and jerk against her bonds. The panties are soaked. The woman presses a large wand vibrator to the babydoll’s panties and turns it on, grinding it into the abused flesh mercilessly and giggling while the babydoll bucks and cries as the sensations shake through her.

A glamorous woman in a slinky dress and stiletto heels bends over a railing above a party, large breasts spilling out of her dress while an owl-masked man fondles them from behind. A hawk-masked woman hikes the doll’s skirt up around her waist, revealing a plump ass with a jeweled plug in it. The owl-masked man pulls the plug out without ceremony and shoves his thin cock in its place, making the doll gasp prettily. He fucks her fast and leaves her hole dripping with his cum before another man, this one in a falcon mask, takes his place. This cock is shorter and thicker, and the doll’s leg kicks up involuntarily when he shoves into the sticky mess the owl man left behind. Eight more men fill the doll’s ass with cum before the hawk-masked woman pushes the tenth one off the doll. Rather than giving the doll a rest, the hawk-masked woman plugs the doll’s ass back up with the cum inside it, then pulls the doll back against her chest and begins to kiss her neck and play with her dollcock. The doll’s cock is small and mostly soft—a tcock, maybe, or a clitty, and it’s unclear what’s below it—but it’s only a few moments before it’s twitching and leaking in the hawk woman’s hand. The doll cums messily, spurting all over her own slinky dress and the hawk-masked woman’s fist. The doll licks the woman’s hand clean before laying down on the floor, where the hawk woman hikes up her own skirt and kneels to straddle the doll’s face while all the masked partygoers look on.

A doll in a frilly lolita dress lays across a woman’s lap in the backseat of a car. A man is driving up front, ignoring the women except to touch his cock with one hand while he drives. The woman’s hand moves steadily between the doll’s legs. The doll’s hands are covering her mouth as she tries and fails to stay quiet. She babbles and begs as the woman’s hand keeps moving under the doll’s frilly petticoats. Her face is streaked with tears. The woman beams down at her and strokes the doll’s teary face with one hand while the other continues its task between the doll’s legs. The camera pans down to show a long string of anal beads, each of increasing size, trailing out of the doll’s ass. The woman is still working them in; it’s clear she has no intention of stopping until they’re all inside. The doll’s pussy is soaked and untouched save for the screwclamp on her swollen clit. Occasionally, the woman flicks the clamp, and the doll screams and her pussy lips get wetter.

“You’re going to be just like those dolls,” the voice murmurs in your ear between each clip. “You can feel it, can’t you? You need to be played with until you know what you want. Don’t you want to be played with, dolly?”

The probe in your ass feels so good, but it’s not enough. Your hole aches for more. You want what those dolls were getting.

“Open your mouth, dolly; the Nurse is going to take your gag out.”

You work your jaw once the obstacle is removed; it only aches a little.

“Repeat after me until I say otherwise. Ready?”

You swallow thickly. Your voice sounds distant to your own ears. “Ready.”

Another video flashes in, still alternating your breathing between pink and blue. In this one, a doll in a slip and bloomers is having her hair done by another doll. A third doll paints the first one’s nails, and a fourth is doing the first’s makeup. Like it’s a spa day just for her.

“I’m a perfect doll,” the voice coaxes.

“I’m a perfect doll,” you echo dumbly, watching the beautiful girls take care of each other so tenderly. You want to be touched like that.

“I live to serve the Doll Dreamworld.”

“I live to serve the Doll Dreamworld.”

The doll on the screen is done being prepared, and her preparations’ purpose is revealed: it’s her display day! She’s led, in nothing but a silken dressing gown, to a display window in the Welcome Hall. Her fellow dolls help her onto her display stand, helping her up into the seat of the fuckmachine and guiding its probes to each of her carefully-prepared holes.

“I want to be used for the pleasure of my playmates.”

“I want to be used for the pleasure of my playmates.”

A long, thin dildo with measuring markers is lined up with the doll’s perfectly painted mouth, clearly to show off her throat training. A stubby plug anchored her ass to the machine, unmoving except to vibrate once the machine is turned on, while an absurdly huge, curved dildo is lined up with the lips of her pre-slicked cunt. The head of a large wand vibrator is pressed firmly, inescapably, against her clit; any struggle away from the probes will push it tighter to her clit. Her limbs are strapped down by her fellow dolls, the curtains on the display window are opened, and the machine is turned on.

“I need to be used to feel pleasure.”

“I need to be used to feel pleasure.”

The doll’s whole body arches with a shout as the fuckmachine begins to move, its various limbs beginning their mechanized movements. The doll moans and gags around the cock sliding down her throat, but powers through, tipping her head back and swallowing hard around the five inch mark. Her eyes roll back in her head as the dildo in her pussy bottoms out, and the one in her throat slides in and out more easily as she gets distracted by the motion in her cunt.

“I need to be used. I need to be owned.”

“I need to be used. I need to be owned.”

The doll on the screen cums with a gurgled cry around the dildo in her throat, but the machine pays absolutely no heed. It continues to fuck her mercilessly through her orgasm. The doll’s legs tremble and her arms pull against her bonds with the force of the second orgasm that rocks through her.

“I don’t need to think, I just need to play.”

“I don’t need to think, I just need to play.”

The doll on the screen eventually has to tip her head to the side so the throat dildo gives her a break, but she made it all the way down to the 8 inch mark first, and the pride shows on her face. She slumps in her bonds as the dildo hammers away at her pussy, drawing yet another orgasm from her. There have been so many now. Her thighs are drenched in her own squirt, and the dildo is smeared with her cream. She looks like the image of pure bliss.

“I want the Nurse to help me cum now.”

You mean it *desperately* when you repeat it. “I want the Nurse to help me cum now.”

The assistance is immediate; the Nurse’s efficient hands line up a soft pad of ridged, vibrating silicone with your front parts, pressing it firmly over them and strapping it into place before turning it on. The Nurse taps away at her tablet, and the electrodes all over your body begin to tingle. Not quite painful, just—aaaah, just *something*.

“I want the Nurse to make me cum three times before she lets me stop.”

You shiver and rub against the pad, already humming gently against your sensitive flesh. “I want the Nurse to make me cum three times before she lets me stop.” You know it’s going to be too much, too fast. You can’t wait.

The probe in your ass begins to buzz softly, and the vibration on the front pad increases.

The image on the screen in your visor changes again:

A doll is strapped down, naked, helpless, to a medical chair in the middle of a small cubicle of a room, a visored helmet on her head. Her legs are splayed up and open but her privates are covered by a vibrating pad. A thick anal probe holds her in place on the medical chair. Electrodes and wires hooked up to what might be a TENS unit protrude from her everywhere. A curvy Nurse is holding a tablet with a series of slides and dials; clearly a control panel. The doll on the table shivers when she recognizes herself. The Nurse giggles and pets the doll’s thigh; you feel the touch.

“I’m a perfect doll and I’m ready to play.”

You can’t help but arch and whimper as the Nurse begins to fiddle with the controls. Your pleasure begins to build, coiling low in your belly. “I’m a p-perfect doll,” you moan, grinding into the vibrations. “And—a-and I’m ready to—ahh—play.”

The Nurse beams down at the doll.

“When I cum for the Nurse, my dollhood begins.”

You can feel it building already, the first orgasm, far too soon. It’ll be too much by the third one; you can’t wait. “When I cum for the Nurse, my dollhood begins.”

The electrodes increase their strange sensations across your skin, arcing through your flesh, while the probe and pad hum against your most sensitive places. The Nurse watches coolly as the doll on the screen begins to twitch and wriggle under the onslaught of sensations. The doll on the screen wails and arches beautifully as she cums, the sound ripping itself from your throat.

To be continued…? Send me more prompts and I’ll write more for you! 💖

[fruitcoops]

okay this is a bit of a specific request, but i was wondered if you could write a coops fic based off of this video. maybe one of them is knocked unconscious during a game or has to undergo surgery and they’re super groggy and confused when they wake up and they’re just like “ wow, you’re my husband?” bonus points if it’s sirius and he’s like “when did i come out???”

anyways, no pressure i just saw the video and thought it was a really cute idea <333

This video is just so unbelievably cute. Oh my god. I have an angsty version of this fic in my WIPs but it felt right to do some fluff today! Hope you enjoy! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

TW for wooziness/ memory loss from anesthesia, mention of minor surgery

Faint steady beeps made up most of the background noise, accompanied by shuffling sounds and a sigh as Sirius moved around and blinked at the camera in confusion from his hospital bed. “Where am I?”

“Still the hospital,” Dumo chuckled behind the screen. “Same as the last three times, mon fils.”

“Why are you speaking French?”

“Because I like it.”

“I can’t speak French,” Sirius grumbled, messing with the wires trailing from his pulse monitor.

“Sirius, you’re French-Canadian. It was your first language.”

Sirius sighed again through his nose and looked up at the ceiling. “Why am I here?”

“You had appendicitis.”

“Oh. Okay.” He frowned slightly. “Did I die?”

“No,” Dumo snorted.

“Huh. C’est bizarre.”

“You are so out of it right now,” Dumo muttered under his breath; Sirius showed no sign of hearing him. The camera wobbled as Dumo dug around in his pocket, then held something out to him to take with clumsy fingers. “Here, I didn’t want this to get lost.”

Sirius’ eyebrows furrowed in downright adorable confusion. “Qu’est-ce que c’est?”

“Your wedding ring.”

If anything, that seemed to make him even more distressed. “What? Why would you let me do that?”

“Get married?” Dumo asked around a laugh. “It was your choice, mon fils.”

Sirius slipped the ring on, though he didn’t look happy about it. “But—but I didn’t want to get married. Have I come out to you yet?”

“Ouais.”

“Then why would you let me get married?”

“Shhh.”

Sirius leaned back against the pillows, though he was still obviously upset. “Is my wife here, then?”

“You don’t have a wife.”

“Well if I’m married, then I have to, because I can’t get married if I’m gay and you knew that and I don’t like you anymore,” he huffed with a petulant tilt to his mouth.

There was a long pause behind the camera. “Sirius, gay marriage has been legal for seven years here. It’s been legal in Montreal for almost twenty. Also, what possible power do I have to make you get married to a woman?”

“I dunno.”

“You’re so high you forgot you have rights,” Dumo murmured in utter disbelief. “Mon dieu.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m missing an organ, so pardonnez-moi.”

“Wow, you haven’t had that attitude in almost eight years,” Dumo remarked dryly. “Can I tell your friends they can come in now, or are you going to pout at me for a while longer?”

Sirius had the decency to look abashed. “Desolée.”

In the corner of the frame, Dumo motioned toward the door with his free hand; it swung open a second later and James poked his head in. “Hey, buddy, how’s it going?”

“Oh! I know you, you have a bab—” The puppylike excitement on Sirius’ face faded into total shock—his eyes went huge and his mouth dropped open slightly as the door closed behind the newcomers. “Wh—um.”

Remus crossed the room to sit in the chair next to Sirius’ bed, reaching out to take his hand and hold it between his own with a soft smile; the pulse monitor picked up speed. His shoulder obscured the camera for a second before Dumo shifted his own chair over a few inches. “You feeling okay?” Remus asked as he tucked the edge of Sirius’ blanket back in. Sirius stayed dead silent, still staring at him. “Are you drinking water?”

“You’re holding my hand,” Sirius said faintly. His gaze flickered over to Dumo, then back to Remus. “I—wow.”

James had to turn away to hide his laughter as a blush crept up the back of Remus’ neck. “You’re still loopy, huh?” he said, pressing the water glass into Sirius’ palm. “Gotta hydrate, baby.”

Sirius, who had just brought the rim of the cup to his lips, sputtered and blushed pink all the way to the tips of his ears. “What did you just call me?” he whispered, wide-eyed. “Do I know you?”

“I’m Remus, and you better know me,” Remus teased, though his voice was fond. “Drink your water.”

“Have I come out to you?”

“Well, not officially, but I got the memo.”

“You’re the prettiest nurse in the whole world.”

“Thank you. I’m not a nurse.”

“What are you?”

“Your husband.”

“My what?”

All three of them shushed him. “There are other people here, Sirius,” Dumo told him through his snickering. “Inside voices.”

“How long have we been married?” Sirius was looking at Remus like he was trying to memorize his face, though his blinking was considerably slower than normal and wonderment tinged every feature. “Are you sure?”

“Just over a year, and I’m very sure.”

“You married me?”

Remus bit his lip, fighting a grin. “Mhmm.”

“For real?”

“Yep.”

“Holy shit.” Sirius finally looked away, turning to James in disbelief. “Holy shit. Did you know that?”

“Yeah, Pads, I was your best man,” James laughed.

“I won the fuckin’ jackpot,” Sirius whispered to himself as he ran his free hand down his face and tilted his head toward Remus again. “Dumo said I got married and I’m really glad it’s legal here because you’re so handsome and do you have pictures also I think I want to kiss you and you have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you, baby,” Remus said, trying (and failing) to stifle his laughter as James wiped tears of mirth from under his glasses. “I do have pictures, but you need to get some r—”

Sirius’ gasp was loud in the overall peaceful atmosphere. “We’re married. Does that mean we’ve already kissed?”

That was it—the straw that broke the camel’s back. The camera trembled for a moment before Dumo rested it on his knee while all three of them lost it, leaving Sirius with a mixture of confusion and genuine excitement on his face. Remus rested his forehead against Sirius’ shoulder and nodded after a moment, breathless. “Yes, we have,” he managed. “On multiple occasions.”

If anything, that only seemed to make Sirius happier. “Can I have one?”

“Yeah, sure, why not,” Remus said with an amused shake of his head. He leaned up and placed one on his cheek—Sirius’ chest visibly hitched and a soft exhale left his mouth.

“Hopeless,” Dumo whispered behind the camera. “Absolutely hopeless.”

“Is it legal to get married twice?” Sirius asked, still watching Remus with unbridled affection.

“To the same person?”

Sirius shot Dumo an offended look. “Obviously. That’s my husband.”

“Why would that be legal?”

The offense turned to exasperation. “I forgot about gay marriage, so pardon me for not remembering this, too.”

Remus kissed his forehead and Sirius returned to his previous awestruck state. “You’re going to take a nap and then I’ll show you wedding pictures if you still don’t remember, okay?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“I love you,” Sirius repeated with a lopsided smile.

Remus closed his eyes and fought back his laughter. “I love you, too.”

“Bless your patience, Remus Lupin,” Dumo snorted.

Sirius seemed unaffected by his interruption as he toyed with his wedding ring. “Do we say that a lot?”

Remus shrugged one shoulder as he pulled the blanket up to the base of Sirius’ ribs. “A normal amount, yeah. Usually before we go to bed.”

“I love you.” Sirius closed his eyes when Remus smoothed the front of his hair off his forehead. “I’m going to take a nap, so I can say that.”

“Do you want Dumo and James to stay with you?”

“Will you stay?”

“Course I will.”

“Then they can do whatever.” Sirius tried to shift onto his side, then winced. “My side hurts.”

“Sleep,” Dumo reminded him. “You’ll feel better when you wake up.”

Anyone believe in love at first sight? read a curl of text as the screen went dark. If you’re Cap, you’re lucky enough to experience it twice (this video was published with consent from all parties).

[party-gilmore]

This is still just a half formed thought but @pebblesrus got me thinking bout The Pool Scene and Eliot viewing his body/safety as something to physically exchange for that of others, combined with the commentary about how Eliot was counting the seconds Hardison was without air, like

There's still the thrum of angry tension stretching out from Hardison between them through the night, during Flores's call, on the way in and through the airport... Eliot isn't avoiding Hardison's angry gaze, but he's not seeking it out either. It burns under his skin, a hot coil of discomfort and the sinking sensation of having ruined something unless he manages to make things even.

At some point midflight, Hardison gets up to pace near the bar (because it might have been last minute, but he's NOT gonna make the team fly coach - even though he's still upset with Eliot and may have thought about it for a minute). Eliot follows a few seconds later and catches Hardison on the way back, quickly shoving him into the small lavatory and locking the door behind them.

"Man! What the hell! If you don't get your hands off me, I-"

"One minute, nineteen seconds." Hardison stops flailing against Eliot's grip around his wrists and just... stares, incredulous.

"...what?"

"You were without air for one minute, nineteen seconds."

"...you were counting." It feels a little like a question, although it isn't. Not really. Eliot's grim expression softens often imperceptibly. Hardison would've missed it if they weren't crammed so tightly in the small bathroom. Eliot answers the non-question anyway, voice uncharacteristically gentle.

"Course I was."

Hardison tumbles that around in his head for a bit. Of course Eliot was counting. Probably to know when it was too dangerous anymore to stay in character. Hardison knows how important it was to gain Moreau's trust at the time. In his head, he knows that. Knew it, even then. He was just... so afraid, at almost drowning, and angry at the secrets Eliot was keeping... but he was counting. He would've gone in for him, if he needed. Blown the whole damn thing.

Yeah the situation just sucked all the way around, sure, and yeah Alec's still a little pissed - why wouldn't he be! He's got the right! - but Eliot was counting. That means even though he'd had to put Hardison's life at risk, he was willing to risk even more - his own safety, the entire con - to pull him back out if needed. That was something, right? That was still-

-Hardison's too busy turning the pieces around in his own head to notice Eliot shifting his grip from Hardison's wrists to his hands. Tugging them closer. Pulling them up.

Alec snaps back to the present when his fingertips graze the warm, flushed skin of Eliot's neck.

"What-"

"One minute, nineteen seconds." Eliot suddenly presses Hardison's hands tight around his throat, guiding his thumbs to the appropriate hollows beneath his jaw.

"You... you can't be fucking serious!"

He tries to pull away, but Eliot's grip holds fast.

"Damnit Hardison," his growl comes rough, grating, as he puts pressure on his own windpipe through Hardison's palm. "You were right! Okay? I risked your life. For one minute and nineteen seconds. So that's what you get. Just... just do it, man! Get it over with, then we're even!"

"Even-... man, do you not realize how fucked up this is? I'm not... I'm not doing this!"

With a growl, Eliot tears his hands away from Hardison's, and Alec snatches his newly freed palms back to his chest. Eliot clearly wants to pace, but can't in the cramped room, so he settles with carding his fingers through his hair.

"Then what the fuck else do you want from me, man!" His voice already sounds ragged, even with how short of a time Hardison (or rather, Eliot by way of Hardison) was pressing around his throat.

"I just wanted you to be honest with us! With me!" Hardison slumps back against the far wall, anxiously rubbing his jaw as he tries to find the words. "Alright, look, I get it, what you had to do at the pool. I do. That doesn't mean my being upset about it is just gonna... go away!"

"I know that!"

Hardison flinches as Eliot slams his fist against the side wall. He knows the strike wasn't meant to be pointedly 'at' him, that in such a small space there's not a whole lot of room to safely lash out in when feeling cornered, but it was still too close to him for comfort. Eliot clocks the flinch, and for a moment the frustration on his face morphs into a clear expression of the guilt he's been masking since the pool.

"I... I'm sorry. I didn't... fuck, I'm sorry," he pulls away, shrinking in on himself like he does on the grift, trying to consciously make himself seem smaller. "I just... I just don't want to have ruined us, man. Whatever is we've got... you and me, this team... I just wanna fix what I broke. I want us to be good."

"We are good, man," Hardison cautiously steps forward. He thinks to put a hand on Eliot's shoulder, but that's too close to his throat at the moment, so he goes for the outside of his arm instead. "You don't gotta... let me hurt you to make things even. That's... I don't know where the hell you learned that, but I don't like it. I'm not gonna do it. You just... you just gotta let me feel my feelings for a bit, okay? We'll get Moreau, and that'll feel fucking great, and have a little party, and everything will be fine. "

Eliot looks up at him and the ragged, raw desperation in his gaze about knocks Hardison back against the wall.

"...that's it?" Eliot's almost laughing, with a dry sarcastic bite behind his tone that makes him sound unhinged... well, more unhinged than usual. Although, he did just ask Hardison to choke him, so Alec figures we're not exactly working with the usual state of mind here.

"It's that easy, huh? You just... say we're good, and we're good?"

"Uh, yeah." Hardison shakes his head, tightening and loosening his grip on Eliot's arm in what he hopes is a soothing pattern. "That's how normal feelings work when somebody you care about pisses you off. You talk your shit out, it hurts for a bit while it heals up, then you're good. I don't know who fucking taught you you had to pay for-"

Oh. Oh but then it hits him. The dots finish connecting and he's looking down at Eliot, who's been strung tight and volatile as a clumsily stripped live wire ever since they closed in on Moreau, and in that moment Alec knows who taught him that.

He steps in close, carefully taking the back of Eliot's neck in a gentle grip, and ducks slightly to even out their gazes. Eliot’s whole body is tensed so hard he's almost shaking with it, but his eyes start to lose their sharp edge with Hardison's easy hold.

"I need you to hear me, Eliot. If I say we're good? Then we're good. No strings attached, no games, no doing any 'favors' for me first to prove any kind of loyalty or whatever. You know I don't play that shit. Yeah? You hearing me, man?"

Eliot's body starts to lose a bit of it's tension. A hesitant nod starts, but stops early. Hardison's seen Parker do that before, when she's too nervous to fully commit to a new idea even if she wants to, so he softens his tone and backs up a bit like he does with her.

"You hear me, babe?"

"I hear you," the reply is soft, almost embarrassed, and Eliot's eyes dart away. Hardison let's him go, indulging the gruff 'pretending to shake off the touch' Eliot does a second too late to be any kind of believable, and respectfully ignores the clearing of his throat and wiping at his eyes.

"We, uh..." Eliot turns to the door, fidgeting with the handle for a moment. "So, we'll talk. In San Lorenzo. When it's done?"

"When it's done."

Affirmation granted, Eliot darts out of the room. Hardison takes a few more minutes. Washes his face. Processes all the data thrown at him in the past few minutes as much as he can before filing it away for later. For 'when it's done.'

BONUS:

I feel like later, when they have their actual talk and Moreau is dealt with and both parties are a little more calm about it, Eliot is still like okay, I hear you, I understand that you don't need this to feel like we're square... but I do. Please.

And this time, knowing a little more of the whole story, Hardison is more comfortable accepting that like you know what, okay. If this is what you need, now that we've talked it out in a much less charged scenario and I can trust that you're in (more of) your right mind about this, okay. So long as you know I don't need this, that this is for you, and that if you need to stop early you swear you'll tell me.

Eliot probably rolls his eyes a bit at that like c'mon not even a full two minutes of getting choked out? He's had to go [absurd amount of time] without air in [equally absurd situation] in [obscure country], he'll be fine.

So Hardison sets a timer, and gently presses Eliot up against a wall, hands wrapping round his throat, Eliot's hands around his wrists - the deal is that he holds on for as long as he's good, if he let's go then so does Hardison - and he starts pressing in.

The whole scene is far softer and more intimate than either of them expected. They keep crazy intense but somehow still gentle eye contact almost the entire way through - the only exception being when Eliot's eyelids start to flutter a bit near the end, his grip loosening but not letting go - and when the time's up Eliot almost doesn't want Hardison to let go. He didn't even know that was a Thing for him. It had never been like that before, and like he said it's hardly his first time being choked... but something about trusting Hardison with that level of control... it makes him realize he maybe likes it a little too much. Putting his actual life in Hardison's hands in such a very physical, tangible way.

It kind of scares him, to be honest, how easily he'd be willing to let him do it again. And thinking about Hardison always leads to thinking about Parker, and thinking about Parker always leads to thinking about Parker's hands, and he realizes that he'd even trust "I hang off buildings by my fingertips" hand strength Parker to do it too... maybe even gets excited at the idea of it...

...and realizes he's well and truly screwed.

[mikiib]

The Magnus Archives: ALIEN AU (Part 1)

     So in short I had come up with an AU where the cast of TMA characters are set in the universe of ALIEN. They’re both my FAVORITE pieces of horror media I’ve consumed and so my brain figured- WHY NOT? So I have 13 pages and scenes in my brain that would take place in this AU. If this or the following posts that I’ll make inspire anyone I would LOVE to see what you come up with! In short this story has a mostly good ending.    

 Here’s a list of the things that ARE and AREN’T in this universe. 

- 14 Fears aren’t in this world. It’s fully immersed in the universe of the movie ALIEN/ALIENS. - The xenomorphs however have more powers- they can shape shift into anyone they ‘kill’. So if the alien hatches from the host but somehow the host survives then that creature can pretend to be that person. If they kill someone they can pretend to be them.  They still however take the main biological forms of the hosts they came from in regular form. - Queens are born when there is no other queen in near vicinity detected by the unhatched egg.  - The hatching of an egg takes a lot longer after implantation rather than a few hours like the original movie.  - The aliens acidic blood is still STRONG but not nearly as much. I nerfed that to a slower burn- if left on the surface for more than a few minutes it can still be JUST AS BAD as the movies version. - Cyborgs are a thing in this world- who is and isn’t a cyborg is up in the air- however you’ll find out if you follow the posts. - The aliens are weak to extreme heat and extreme cold. The younger they are the more vulnerable to both. Fire extinguishers and flamethrowers will be a big weapon in both firepower and as a melee weapons. - The technology is slightly more up to date compared to ALIEN’s 80′s tech, as there are in short video calls that can be held. -Mother (MU-TH-UR 4900) is the ships computer mainframe, and can connect directly to Elias with his acceptance of the transmission. Mother also monitors the crew and their vitals when they are under cyosleep. - They can quit. No bindings to ‘The Eye’ here. 

ARTIFACT RETRIEVAL VEHICLE: THE COEUS CREW: SEVEN

Captain and Scrivener (Archivist): Jonathan Sims (Age: 31)

  Executive Officer: Sasha James (Age: 35)

  Warrant Officer: Georgie Barker  (Age: 29)

  Navigator: Melanie King (Age: 27)

  Engineers: Tim Stocker (Age 33) & Martin Blackwood (Age: 27)

  Science Officer: Nikola Orsinov (Age: 30)

CARGO: OTHER WORLDLY ARTIFACTS UNDER STUDY COURSE: SCIENCE AND TECHNOLOGY MOON BASE: THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES 

-Everyone shares the role of being a Scribal (Archival) Assistants to Jon- no exceptions.  -The Magnus Archives is a space station on the Moon orbiting Earth.  -The cargo they carry is found from the ships that collect samples from uninhabited planets as well as statements from those who report to them their findings to investigate.  -The Admiral is the ships designated therapy cat to help the crew cope with isolation brought on by Georgie. -Elias Bouchard is the head of The Magnus Archives.

STORYLINE: 

     The story starts after they’ve collected the last of the artifacts required on the list to retrieve. They’ve been in cryosleep for over 6 months and only need 3 more months of it till they’d arrive to their destination. Everyone wakes up on their own time, Georgie first, along with Melanie and Martin. Followed by Tim, Sasha, Jon, and Nikola, they gather at the dining table of the living quarters. Martin makes everyone their preferred meals, seemingly the most nervous. This has been Martins first time aboard THE COEUS, and his banter with Sasha and Tim prove while not the best at his job there, he makes a mean meal out of the ‘rubbish space food’ provided. Melanie comes back after taking a look at their current location frowning, letting the others know they aren’t even close to Earth yet- not even in their solar system anymore. In surprise they turn to Jon, who himself has only been Captain on ship for only just before this crew was assigned to him. He gets up to check out whats going on, many of the others follow him, much to his disgruntlement as they basically fill the small room. Mother has intercepted a transmission of unknown origins and under contract of their jobs they must check it out. Curious to know more about their new course Jon calls Elias, who informs them it will be a 2 week set back on their schedules course. Jons not exactly excited about this but Tim’s quite happy to be informed it does give them quite a large bonus since it does seem confirmed of unknown (non-human) origins. 

     Once they arrive to their destination, Melanie sets the ship into motion for landing. She reads off all planet signs to the crew on. It’s a nearly isolated dwarf planet of 600 kilometers in diameter (372.823 miles). The surface on landing will be 23 degrees celsius- much warmer than expected but it does seem to be orbiting a sun fairly closely. They prepare for landing and Martin and Tim are set to get the ship in position. Martin and Tim talk together as they prep and make sure the landing legs will be fine against the surface of the planet. While they do so Sasha pops in announcing she gets to go with Jon and Melanie to investigate the source of the spooky transmission on foot. Meaning also she gets a bigger cut in the bonus than them. Tim and Sasha razz at each other but stop when sparks are spat in Martins face for wiring something wrong. He curses and Sasha comes over to help see what's wrong, pulling on gloves. She laughs a bit and gently teases him to choose a different degree to lie about next time he wants a new job as she fixes the wiring for him. Martin shushes her, claiming he didn’t expect them not to do background checks, nor did he expect to be given a position on one of the biggest damned cargo retrieval ships known. While he worked originally as a simple warehouse organizer at The Magnus Archives sister base on earth he had needed cash to help support himself after his Mother had moved out. Tim wraps an arm around Martin, claiming he’ll shield Martin from Jons prying eyes if anything goes wrong on this detour. They laugh a bit before the radio goes off from Jons office room. He’s complaining about the lights not turning on in there and would be thrilled if someone did their job correctly when fixing it before he gets back on the ship. Tim radios him that they’re on it before they tease Martin more on his obvious crush on Jon before Sasha is then called up to suit up. 

     Georgie is helping the 3 suit up properly, making sure their heart monitors are secure and attached to their neck to get an accurate pulse. Jon seems to be struggling most with the suit up, this unlike the other two, being his first time in a suit outside of the initial training. Sasha after having her camera feed double checked helps Jon out. And while Jon doesn’t say anything about it, it’s obvious Sasha should’ve gotten the job as Captain. Melanie the entire time rattling on about how excited she is to document her findings of a foreign transmission. 

     They land with ease, nothing going wrong as the planet, while rocky with a constant rain, is also somewhat flat. They make their way to the source of the transmission. Tim and the others are now watching from the ship- cameras live feed and audio coming to them as Georgie talks with Melanie about all the kind of things they could find on the ship to study. Nikola reminds everyone that without the items and everyone following the procedures for quarantine, no one is touching the items that may be brought back. The conversation dies out into aww when they see the space ship the signal is coming from appear on camera. Melanie is excited as Sasha and Jon start to look for a way in. Jon reminds them to stay close to him at all times as they enter the ship- its obvious he’d rather none of them go in here due to how degraded the place looks. Everything seems to have been heavily melted in random patches, but the ship itself seems to be made of a biological element of some sort- comparing it to a ribcage almost as they walk through it.

     As they traverse the ship they stumble across multiple dead alien bodies. They aren’t fresh but they also don’t look years old. Melanie goes to take a closer look at them but Jon quickly pulls her back from them, yelling about how obviously unsafe it is as well as the fact that she just broke formation rushing off into a different room. They both get into an argument about what should be done with the bodies, and how far their investigations should go. At this point the feed is hardly coming through via camera, but the audio makes it back to the the ship roughly. Sasha goes on without them as she’s getting closer to decode the transmission. it’s a warning of sorts is what she can gather. Looking at the bodies it may have been an illness of some type, each of them dead from some type of acid but she finds one with an open chest- like an explosion. she gets closer to one, that seems to shift out of the corner of her eye. She tries to let the others know but she realizes that they can’t hear her over their arguing, and she’s almost certain she’s lost on the foreign ship. So instead she brings herself closer to the alien body before something crashes behind her and she stumbles back, tripping over something, and screams as she bashes her head on the back of her helmet. She gets up and looks around and sees the shadow of the creature run off and she chases after it.

     That got the attention of the others as not only with the scream but Tim tells them her heart rate is spiking drastically. Jon and Melanie cry out for Sasha and she stops after meeting a dead end. She sighs and tells them she’s fine, she just fell and admittedly was just chasing after shadows. She turns around however and suddenly her heart monitor on the ship starts to read dead.  PART 2 

[nazariolahela]

Something Domestic: Chapter 14

A/N: Hey y'all! This story is told in first-person narrative, from Riley’s (MC) POV. There will likely be smidges of canon in this, but not too much. Thanks for reading, and please leave feedback, and/or if you would like to be tagged.

This week’s chapter is a bonus from Liam’s POV. I was really excited to write his side of the story. I hope you enjoy it too.

Catch up here

Series Tags: @burnsoslow @aworldoffandoms @dcbbw @ladyangel70 @texaskitten30 @sunandlemons @jlynn12273 @indiacater @jared2612 @rainbowsinthestorm @drakesensworld @badchoicesposts @msjr0119 @katurrade @blackcoffee85 @cynicalworlds-blog @hopefulmoonobject @beardedoafdonutwagon @cmestrella @sugarandspice-milkandhoney @superharrietsuper @custaroonie @lady-calypso @ritachacha @olympianpantsuit @desiree-0816 @the-soot-sprite @kate-mckenzie @narrytheworld @octobereighth @lynne1993 @queen-anastasia-universe​

Synopsis: When Riley Brooks takes a new job as a nanny for the affluent Rhys family in New York’s Upper East Side, she assumes she’s just going to care for the children of the couple who hired her. But instead of just school pick-ups and afternoon snacks, she also finds herself spending time with Liam, the handsome divorced dad. Can Riley control her feelings for Liam while still performing the job she was hired for? 

All characters are the property of Pixelberry Studios. Thanks for allowing me to borrow them.

Chapter Summary: Liam and Leo try to get to the bottom of the tabloid scandal and Liam tries to win Riley back. 

Almost a month had passed since the tabloid incident. In that time, the press found plenty of other scandals to latch on to. Not hard to do in this city. Lucky for me, my divorce has all but been forgotten about. I still get the occasional paparazzo bombarding me with questions of if I’m “banging the new nanny,” but for the most part, they’ve moved on. 

The last month has been hard on the kids as well. After Madeleine fired Riley, she replaced her almost immediately. Seems kind of suspicious to me, but whatever. The new nanny — a woman named Belinda — is a lovely woman, but the kids haven’t quite warmed up to her like they did Riley. They keep asking me when she’s coming back. I don’t have the heart to tell them that she probably won’t. They were visibly upset when I told them she would no longer be their nanny. Charlotte cried. Philip asked me if she didn’t like us anymore. They still talk about how much they miss her. To be honest, I do too. 

If we’re being honest here, I never once thought she did it. And not because we were involved. I saw how she was with my kids and I could tell she genuinely cared for them. She treated them like they were her own. Many nights I would come home from work and hear Philip talk about all the fun things he and Riley did, or hear Charlotte gush about how pretty and nice Riley was to her and how she let her wear whatever she wanted to school. I also remember all the times she told me that she didn’t care about my money, so there’s no way she would sell us out for a payday. 

It’s Monday morning and I’m sitting in my office at Cordonia Enterprises looking over the numbers for this quarter when my brother Leo strolls in, looking like he had just woken up from a week-long sex and booze bender. He moves over to the bar cart, pours himself three fingers of scotch, and plops down in the seat across from me. 

“You look like shit, little bro,” he smiles behind the rim of his glass. 

“You would know. You smell like a brothel.” 

He laughs loudly and takes a sip of his scotch, then sets it on the desk. “Well, you’re ex-nanny needed someone to comfort her after you tossed her out on the street, so I offered her my services. Did you know she makes the cutest noises when she cums?” He makes a show of adjusting himself. “My balls are getting tight just thinking about it.” 

I clench the pen in my hand with enough force that my knuckles turn white. I know he’s trying to fuck with me, so I take a deep breath, controlling my rage. “What the fuck do you want, Leo?” 

He chuckles and kicks his feet up on my desk. I love my brother, but he can be a real dickhead at times. When Madeleine and I started dating, he gave me shit for months about me picking up his ‘sloppy seconds.’ Once, he asked me if she ever called out his name in bed. Fucker. After we were married, he warned me that she was just using me to get back at him. I probably should have listened to him. When I announced to my family that she and I were splitting up, he revealed that she had tried to seduce him on more than one occasion. Thankfully, he had no interest in getting involved with her again. My brother may be a total asshole, but he wouldn’t deliberately hurt me. 

“So, I think I know how to help you with your little predicament.” 

“My predicament?” 

“The tabloid leak. I think I know who was behind it. Or at least had something to do with it.”  

“It’s been a month, man. Everyone's forgotten about it,” I say, setting my pen down. 

“Really? Because your ex-wife called me last week.”  

I raise my brows and give him my full attention. This should be good. 

“Yeah, she called me crying, telling me how much she misses me. Not like I haven’t heard that over and over the last seven years. I warned you about her, Li. That chick is crazy. I’m pretty sure she was drunk. So anyway, she asks me if I knew about you and your nanny. Told her I had heard some things. Then she gives me some pathetic sob story about how you made her do what she did. ‘I had to do it, Leo. Who knows how long this has been going on?’” I nod and wait for him to continue.  

“I ask her to elaborate. She sputters out some lame-ass excuse about how you fucking the nanny behind her back pushed her into the arms of another man. The timing clearly didn’t line up since we all know you filed before you hired Riley, but I didn’t tell her that. I just let her dig her hole. She goes on about how she took matters into her own hands. Now that Riley’s out of the picture, things can go back to normal.” He laughs and finishes off his drink. 

“What does Riley have to do with all this?” I ask.  

“I asked her the same thing. She said that she knew Riley was no good from the beginning, but that you had convinced her to hire her because of her background. She suspected something was up after the paparazzi incident at the park, but that you had talked her out of doing something rash. That’s when she convinced you to hire Mara to keep tabs on Riley. I guess Mara had been giving her updates. She also rambled on about how Mara always bought Riley those tabloid magazines. That’s when she said she knew Riley had something to do with it. She didn’t come outright and say it, but the signs are all there.” 

I struggle to process the info that was just dumped in my lap. Would Madeleine really stoop that low? I know she wasn’t happy about me filing for divorce, but would she be vindictive enough to put our children in harm’s way just to get back at me? Why was the nanny collateral damage? And why would she wait a month to say anything? Guilt, perhaps? None of this makes sense.  

“Do you have proof of this, Leo?” 

“Dude. Why the fuck would I lie about it? You know damn well she still wants me. Even with her new man in the picture. Seven years she’s tried to get me to take her back. I wish I would have recorded it so you could listen to how desperate she sounded.” 

“Not that, you dick. About the leak.” 

“Oh yeah, that. No, I don’t have proof. But I have a hunch. And I’m usually 90% right about these things.”  

I drop my head in my hands. Yep, the signs are all there. Now, I just have to find a way to prove what I’ve suspected all along. I pull out my phone and shoot a group text to Max, Drake, and Liv, asking them to meet up tonight. If I’m going to nail my ex-wife to the wall, I need my most trusted friends to help me. 

***

Drake, Maxwell, Olivia, my brother, and I meet at The Double Tappe after work. The place is empty — not unusual for a Monday — giving us the whole bar to ourselves. We all congregate in one of the booths in the back and Leo repeats what he told me this morning. Drake and Max are completely shocked by the revelation. Olivia, however, sits there stone-faced. 

“I knew there was a reason I didn’t like her,” she says.  

“You don’t like anyone,” Maxwell retorts, then flinches when Olivia punches him in the arm. He rubs the spot where she made contact and turns to me. “Whatcha gonna do about this, Li?” 

“I don’t know. It’s been a month, so it’s going to be hard to prove at this point. I need solid evidence that Madeleine was involved because she’ll never admit to it. The first person I need to talk to is Mara. Hopefully, she can give us some answers.”  

“What about a wire-tap? I know a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy,” Drake shrugs in between sips of whiskey. 

“Pretty sure that’s illegal in this state,” Olivia says. 

Leo snaps his fingers. “That’s true, but New York is a one-party consent state. So, if one of us gets Madeleine to confess and records it, we technically wouldn’t be breaking the law.” 

“Okay, so who could we get to coerce that kind of information out of her?” I ask. 

Leo leans back and grins, crossing his arms behind his head. We all look at each other, knowing exactly who will handle this task. If anyone can persuade Madeleine to spill the beans, it’s definitely him. 

“How are we going to do this?” Max asks. 

“Well, I say loverboy here tries to seduce her. She’ll tell you anything you want to hear if she thinks she can get you back,” Olivia says. 

“Well then, it’s settled. Work your magic, Leo,” Drake replies. The five of us clink our glasses in celebration, although it feels premature since we don’t have actual evidence against her yet. We spend the rest of the evening sharing drinks, memories, and laughter. It’s the most fun I’ve had in a long time. No kids, no work, no responsibilities. I haven’t done anything like this since college. As we gather up our things to leave, Drake pulls me aside. 

“Hey man, have you talked to Riley, lately?” 

“I’ve been trying to call and text her for weeks, but it’s been radio silence since Madeleine fired her. I even dropped by her apartment a few times, but no one was home. She must think I blame her for all this.” 

He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. “She does. We tried to tell her that you don’t, but it’s understandable why she would think that. I guess she and Hana had a falling out as well. Last I heard, Hana moved out, so she’s living there by herself. I don’t know where she's working now. She doesn’t come around much anymore. You should try to talk to her again. Maybe explain your side of the story.” 

“Yeah. It’s just… I fucked up, Drake. I don’t blame her for anything. I should have told her that.” I rub the back of my neck. “Truth is, I think I’m in love with her.” 

“You need to tell her, man.” 

I nod, clapping him on the shoulder, then head for my car. The drive back to my penthouse is long, but it gives me time to think. I think back to what Drake told me. About her and Hana’s falling out. I know they’ve been best friends for a long time. Now, she’s alone. To think that if she never met me, none of this would have happened. It’s hard not to blame myself for all of this.

I think back on how different things are with Riley then they were with Madeleine. When I met Madeleine, I was more in love with the idea of her. I married her to please my father, and although I’ll always care for her as the mother of my children, the love was never really there. When I found out she cheated, I was almost relieved.  

The night Riley left, I sat in my study and went over everything that had happened over those few weeks. I feel my chest start to tighten. What is this? Emotion? I had learned to turn them off after Madeleine, but somehow, Riley made them come back. And suddenly, I want to fight for what we have. I never fought for Madeleine, but I feel the urge to for her. She’s the only woman I’ve ever felt that desire for. Making a decision, I take the next U-Turn and make the trip to her apartment.  

I arrive outside her building a few minutes later. Her bedroom window faces the street, and when I peer up at it, I notice the light is on. That’s a good sign. It means she’s home. I exit the car and make my way up to her floor. I pause outside her door, unsure of what to say to her. Come on, Li. Quit stalling and tell her how you feel. I knock on her door a few times and wait patiently for her to answer. I hear shuffling on the other side of the door, and when it swings open, the face on the other side is not the one I’m expecting. 

“Can I help you?” A young man answers the door, wearing only a pair of low-hanging joggers. He eyes me confusingly.  

“Uh…” I stumble, double-checking to see if I have the right apartment. “Is Riley here?” 

“Maybe. Who’s asking?” 

Must resist the urge not to knock this kid on his ass. “Tell her Liam needs to see her.” 

He rolls his eyes and holds a finger up, signaling me to wait, before closing the door in my face. I hear him call out to her on the other side, “Hey, Riley. There’s some suit here to see you. Says his name is Liam.” More shuffling and muffled voices, then the door swings open, and there stands my girl. Her brown locks are piled atop her head in a messy bun. She’s wearing a pair of short shorts, showing off her long legs, and a Steinhardt t-shirt. She stares at me for a few seconds before snapping out of her daze. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“You haven’t been returning my calls.” 

She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “There’s a reason for that.”  

I sigh, dragging my hand down my face. “Riley, please. Just listen to me.” 

“Why should I? You wouldn’t listen to me when I tried to explain myself.” 

Her words feel like a slap to my face. She’s absolutely right and I can’t argue otherwise. “I know I messed up, but if you give me a chance to explain myself, I’ll be on my way.” 

She turns and looks to the guy in her apartment, then back to me, then again at him. “Give me a sec, Josh,” she says, before stepping out into the hallway and pulling the door closed behind her. “You have two minutes.” 

I exhale. “I’m sorry. I want you to know I’m so sorry. For what I did. Or rather, what I didn’t do. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I never meant to hurt you, Riley. I get why you’re hurt. And if I was in your shoes, I’d feel the same way. When I saw the magazine, I didn’t believe you had anything to do with it, but in that moment, all I could think about was my kids.” 

She nods. “I know. Drake told me. But you could have said something to Madeleine instead of just letting her berate me. I would never do that to Philip and Charlotte. I love them like they were my own.” She looks down at her feet and her voice trembles. “I can’t believe you didn’t trust me when I’ve never given you a reason not to.” A tear rolls down her cheek. “All I’ve ever done is try to make you and those kids happy. Just because your ex-wife hurt you, doesn’t mean I would. You know that. I waited for you, Liam. I knew your circumstances with the divorce, and I still waited. And at the first sign of trouble, you jumped to conclusions. You didn’t give us a chance.” 

I reach out and tip her chin up to look at me. I gently rub her cheek with the pad of my thumb, brushing the tear away. “You’re right. I’m a fucking idiot. I know that now. I owe you so much more than a simple apology. You deserve better than that. I’m hoping it’s not too late to try and fix what I broke. I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back.” 

She fidgets with the hem of her t-shirt. “I don’t know, Liam. I want to believe you. I really do. But I’m still hurt. I wish things had been different with us. I wish we had met under different circumstances. But, you have your children to think about. And I know they are your priority.” 

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Of course they are. But I want to make you my priority too. Tell me what I can do.” 

“Did you figure out who leaked the story?” 

I shake my head. 

She sighs. “I need time.” 

“Not too much time, I hope.” She doesn’t say anything for a long time. The silence between us saying more than our words do. I reach out and grab her hand, squeezing it. “I don’t know what else to say, Riley. Just think about it. I’ll be here, waiting.” I pull her hand up to my lips, placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. Then, I turn and head down the hall. The ache in my chest, deep. Knowing that I hurt her is almost too much to bear. The issue with the story is awful, but not taking her side was worse. 

The only thing I can do now is try to make it up to her. 

[phobidawg]

Holiday Lunar Bake-Off; Episode 1, Introductions and Welcomes

A hot new portscreen series (Hosted by Iko!) where some of your favorite celebrities (including Emporer Kaito, Queen Selene, and Ambassador Winter Hayle-Blackburn and more,) compete to win the title of Lunar Bake-Off Champion! 

(or a *really* cringy crack fic where Iko throws them all in a baking competition and none of them know how to bake. It gets funnier in the later chapters, I promise. Also excuse and grammar or editing mistakes, I know there are many but I started this a long time ago and don’t want to bothering going through all of it again. I will be updating this once a week until I run out of prewritten chapters!)

Iko: *bursts onto screen in a flurry or glittery snowflakes* I just love the holidays! Lots of friends, family, presents, cute outfits..... and supposedly best of all, the food! *mumbles something under breath about not having taste buds*

Anyway, Welcome to the Holiday Lunar Bake-off! We've selected eight celebrity contestants from all over Earth and Luna to compete for the grand prize, 50,000 univs!! Enough to buy over 300 amazing outfits! Without further ado, the contestants!!! *throws arms open wide gesturing to side door of Kitchen*

*nothing happens*

Iko: I said, the contestants!!!

(off-screen Cinder) Iko, you have each name individually!

Iko: I do? Well then, *looks at paper in hand* our very first contestant is Luna's very own, Selene Jannali-Blackburn, aka Cinder!!

*Cinder emerges from side door, looking annoyed*

Cinder: Why am I always first?! First to be shot at, first to be enlisted to overthrow a queen, first to bother *cough*Thorne*cough*...

Iko: *cutting of rant* So, Cinder, tell us about yourself. *sticks mic in Cinder's face*

Cinder: *leaning away from mic and taking a step back* Um, well, I used to live in New Beijing as a mechanic...

(Off-stage) Kai: The best one there was!

Cinder: *shooting glare at door* And anyway then I found out I was a missing princess of a rock in space and saved a bunch of people from a tyrant and turned Luna into a democracy. So yeah. *feeble jazz-hands*

Iko: *swooning* And most importantly, your now engaged to dreamy Emperor Kai! Tell us, how does it feel knowing you'll be married to Kai soon?!

Cinder: I thought we were here to bake, not gossip!

Iko: I don't know about you, but Kai's smile definitely bake's my wires *cheesy wink*

(off stage awkward coughing)

Cinder: *ignoring horrible pun* By the way, would you mind showing me how to work that complicated fondant roller in the back because I really don't want to lose my other hand too....

Iko: Next up we have Scarlet Benoit of Rieux, France!

Kinney the Cameraman (off-screen): Um, Iko? My portscreen's battery is running a bit low...

Iko: Shh! We're filming!

Kinney: But...

Iko: The show must go on! SCARLET! Scarlet: *kicks open double-doors* Bonjour mon ami. (hello my friend)

Iko: Bonjour! Est-ce nous parlons en francais? (can we speak in french)

Scarlet: *Shrugs* D'accord. (sure)

Kinney: *coughs* Um, bless you?

Iko: Kinney! For the last time cameramen don't talk!

Kinney: *mumbles something under breath*

*Whole screen tilts sideways toward ground for a moment, before righting itself*

Iko: Kinney!

Kinney: *mumbling* whoops.

Iko: So Scarlet, you are probably the most accomplished baker in this whole set of people, and most likely the only one who knows how to use an oven! Where did you learn?

Scarlet: My grandmere taught me a while ago, when I was young. Our favorite thing to make was lemon cake, so I make on the anniversary of her birthday every year.

Iko: How sweet! Maybe even sweeter than sugar ;) *wink*

Cinder: *standing awkwardly off in corner* So....should I just leave?

Iko: *flapping hand in general direction to her right.* There's an exit somewhere around there. Now, I have a baking show to run!

Cinder: *to herself* Time to go get lost in a celebrity kitchen. Fun. *starts wandering off to try and find exit*

Iko: SO Scarlet, tell me more about this lemon cake. Is it sweet and tart, or tart and sweet?

Scarlet: *Looking confused* Ummm....

Kinney (off-screen): *cough* ten minutes of battery left *cough*

Iko: TEN MINUTES! Well, thank you Scarlet, good luck finding the exit.... *nudges a supremely confused looking Scarlet in vague direction* Next we have Captain Carswell Thorne!!

Thorne: *throws open doors, beaming blindingly* Finally, my time as a reality tv star has come! *pauses to consider screen* Wait a minute, we're filming with a portscreen?!

Kinney: Got a problem with that?

Iko: FOr the last time, cameramen don't speak! Now don't worry Thorne, this video will go viral soon enough.

THorne: Well, a camera's a camera. *smiles blindingly again*

Kinney: Eww... *turns camera not so subtly away from him*

Thorne: *noticing* Keep the camera on me!

Kinney: *reluctantly turns back at Iko's glare*

Iko: So, Carswell, it is said that your smile hides a shady past. What do you have to say on this?

Thorne: *sending a furtive look over shoulder at entrance, where a hint of a blond head suggests Cress peek out from door* All I have to say is that my ways are changing, and when I got together with Cress I even made a list... *starts digging around in coat pocket* it's in here somewhere.. I always keep it on me...

Iko: *starts fangirling* OMS that's so cute!!! However, we have a time limit *sour look at camera* so speaking of Cress good luck with the competition and finding the waiting room bye!

Thorne: Wait, what? You're kicking me out!

Iko: Cress! You're on!

Kinney the cameraman: Thorne if you're not gonna leave... *shifts camera so Thorne is out of frame*

Thorne: Fine! I get the picture! *makes a point of stomping away*

Cress: *pops onstage with a worried look in Thorne's direction, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, avoiding gaze with the camera.* Hello Iko.

Iko: *once again happy and bubbly* Cress! Welcome to the Holiday Baking Championship! Are you ready to bake?!

Cress: Um, yes?

Iko: I'm sure you can be a bit more confident than that!

Cress: *casting furtive look into the direction where Thorne disappeared, looking for help. Hesitates, and decides to remove the 'um'* Yes?!

Iko: That's better! Nothing like holiday spirit right?

Cress: *blushing nervously to be onstage* mhm.

Iko: Well, what's your favorite part of baking?

Cress: *pauses, and appears to being pulling herself together. Is actually envisioning herself as a famous chef (shh I didn't say that)* I love decorating the most. *newly confident*

Iko: Me too! I absolutely love cookie decorating, although a certain someone always steals the cookies when I'm done! *glares at camera aka Kinney*

Kinney: Hey! You don't even have taste buds, so how could you eat them anyway?!

Iko: That is so beside the point! What if I wanted to give them as gifts or something?! And just because I don't have taste buds... *trails off*

Kinney: Would you like to finish that sentence? Because I'm actually interested to hear what you might have to say.

Iko: *snaps* Cameramen aren't allowed to talk!

Kinney: Talk about being beside the point.

Iko: *fuming*

Cress: Uhhhhh..... Are you okay Iko?

Iko: I'm fine, just fine.

Kinney: *crisp* 4 minutes left.

Iko: AHHH! *looking murderous at Kinney's interruption*

Cress: *looking scared* Iko... *seeing Iko can't be helped* I'm going to leave *slips away*

Iko: *takes a calming breath*

Kinney: *wisely decides not to comment*

Iko: Wolf and Jacin, on stage! *looks very smug at having the smart idea to add two at a time*

Wolf + Jacin: *enter*

Iko: Hello and welcome to the Holiday Baking thing, merry Christmas, ect. Ect. ect. Ok we're on a time crunch so I'm going to start and end with a basic question. What ingredients do you like to use most in baking? Jacin, you're up.

Jacin: I don't bake.

Iko: Aw, come on, just list any ingredient you use for baking then that's nice.

Jacin: Fine, flour.

Iko: *confused* flour?

Jacin: Flour. It's used in pretty much every baking recipe, so that makes it a logical choice. As a bonus, it is bland and tasteless.

Iko: Well then. Wolf?

Wolf: *instantaneously* tomatoes.

Iko: *under breath* why am I not surprised *out loud* Tomatoes?! How do you bake with tomatoes?!

Wolf: Easily! Tomato muffins, tomato pancakes, tomato cupcakes...

Iko: *looking queasy* For once I'm glad I don't have taste buds... I mean that sounds delicious! Good luck in the competition! *under breath* You'll need it. *louder, and much more excited* Next up, former princess Winter Blackburn Hayle and the dreamy Emperor Kaito!

*Kai and Winter wander onstage, Kai looking bemused as Winter rambles to him. Iko swoons*

Iko: Best for last! Don't tell anyone I said that though *wink at screen* Welcome to the Holiday Baking Championship! My first question is for Winter. Wherever did you get that dress?!

Winter: Oh, this? Well, it's pretty isn't it? *giggles and twirls, making her flowy dress swirl* I don't know really, it just seemed to show up in my room this morning!

Iko: I don't know about you, but I have a listed inventory of all my dress', so nothing ever randomly shows up in my room ;) Now Kai... *turns to Kai, who grins cutely/winningly*

Kinney: *cough*one minute*cough*

Iko: *snaps out of adoring reverie* 1 minute! Well Kai, Iloveyou--I mean Good Luck and welcome to both of you!

Kai + Winter: Thank you. Good night! *look at each other in surprise before turning and leaving*

Iko: *talking unnaturally fast* Well that's it for today folks! Please share and repost, and Happy Holidays y'all! Keep a lookout for Episode Two, Christmas Caking! Merry Christmas, Kwanzaa, and Hanuk-

*screen goes dark*

[psychosistr]

FOWL Facets- Chapter 1

Summary: After going missing for more than a day, Steelbeak’s team finally gets word from the missing gem and goes to pick him up, but something seems..off.

Notes: This is fic number two for my 100 Follower Fic Giveaway! This one is for the anon who requested something with Steelbeak and @eleanorose123 / @thefriendlyfour ‘s awesome OC, Dominic Domino, in the Steven Universe!AU (Fearsome Facets) that I’ve been working on with @abbythegamergirl . As a special bonus, I also got to use @deldraws19 ‘s wonderful OC Loony Toony for this story! ^.^ Enjoy!

Daily life continues as it usually does for the organic creatures of the planet Earth. They go to work or school, eat, sleep, and live out their dull, short lives. All of them completely and blissfully unaware of the creatures prowling about their world and blending in among them- some for noble reasons such as to protect the planet, some for more sinister motives such as its destruction, and even more who walk the line between the two sides for their own benefit while hiding in the shadows.

This is a tale following those who work from the shadows, unaligned in the fight of good and evil…

Slowly circling the Earth, hidden high above the clouds and beyond the detection of standard Earth-based scanners, a black ship flies unseen through the skies. The surface of the ship is sharp and angular, looking similar to an obsidian arrowhead with four wings/thrusters sprouting from the back to form a sideways X shape along the flatter back end of the ship. It’s dark, reflective coating looks as if the whole thing were carved from a single large stone rather than many pieces of metal like most ships native to the planet- the only exceptions to its deep black color being speckles of white along the undercarriage of the ship and an angular red windshield on the front. The dark material works to its favor, however, letting it blend in with the starry sky behind it and giving it a natural camouflage with its surroundings.

Within the cockpit of the ship, amongst the many red and white panels with their hologram-projected interfaces, a small panel on the dash lights up with a pinging sound. A hand with brown feathers and black fingerless gloves taps the panel, bringing up a large hologram of the planet in white with a single, small, glowing black point pulsing on it.

“Steelbeak’s beacon just came back online.” A female voice says while the gloved hands zoom in on the black point of the hologram.

“Confirm that it’s actually him and double check for any other gems in the area.” A male voice commands from the other side of the hologram, red eyes watching closely as the image zooms in on the black point.

“Way ahead of you.” The female voice from earlier responds. Once the hologram-map is zoomed in far enough, it changes to an image of a single figure outlined in black standing on its own in a large, open field. “No other gems on the radar..” A gloved hand taps the image of the figure, bringing up a square bubble of text in a language consisting mostly of glyphs. “Andradite garnet..subset, black melanite..ball cut..yeah, that looks like Steelbeak.”

“Hm..” The red eyes narrow slightly, looking closely at the black-outlined hologram. “Go pick him up, but keep an eye out for any traps. I want to know why he went off the grid without contacting us first.”

“On it.” The female voice responds, a pair of gloved hands coming down to an extra-wide red panel and moving over it to steer the ship.

Red eyes stay fixed on the hologram, the male voice speaking quietly. “What have you been up to, Steelbeak…?”

______________________________________________________

A being perfectly matching the hologram from earlier waits patiently in the middle of a flat, open field miles away from any nearby towns. It appears to be a tall rooster with a large red comb, green tail feathers, and, interestingly enough, a rather dangerous looking, jagged, metallic beak. He’s dressed rather classy for someone standing in the middle of a dirty field, wearing black slacks with a red button up shirt, a black bowtie, a white suit jacket, and black patent leather oxfords with white spats. On the left side of his chest, where one would normally see a pocket square or boutonniere, is a gleaming black ball-cut melanite gemstone.

“Geez, what’s taken ‘em so long..?” He grumbles to himself while pulling back his left sleeve to check what, at first, looks like a regular black wrist watch, but actually displays a small radar-like hologram of two black points steadily getting closer to each other. The clouds parting above him draws his attention up towards the sky. “About time..” At first it’s hard to see anything against the starry backdrop, but, after moving lower, it becomes easier to see the outline of the black ship against the re-forming clouds. It gets close enough for the bottom hatch to open and extend a ramp, the melanite climbing on board. He looks around once he’s inside and the hatch has closed behind him, tapping his knuckles against one of the nearby walls as he ventures further into the ship. “Hey, anyone home?”

The ship is loaded with plenty of control consoles, interactive panels, and devices built into the walls and ceilings of the ship, but is fairly sparse on things like furniture and decorations. In fact, the first decorative thing that he spots is a tall shelving unit built into one of the walls. The shelves have what looks like a translucent white energy barrier in front of them, presumably to keep the various small colorful objects (mostly toys, it would seem) from falling off and onto the floor. Seemingly curious about the shelves and the out of place items on it, the melanite moves in for a closer look.

“Hehe~” A giggle echoing through the room, however, stops him in his tracks.

“??” The melanite looks around, searching for the source of the laughter. “Hello..?”

“Hehe~” Another giggle, that time coming from behind him.

“?!” He turns to look, but sees nothing. He hears the sound of movement from somewhere behind him and starts to walk backwards to get away from it. When he finally turns back around to face where he’s going, however, he’s met with large, black and white eyes directly in front of his own.

“Boo!” The excitedly smiling black beak just beneath (above, from his perspective) the black and white eyes says before sticking a white tongue out at him playfully.

“What the-?!” The rooster, startled by the surprise appearance of the face in front of him, tries to take a step back but ends up slipping on a small stuffed blue teddy bear lying on the ground. “Woah!” He falls down onto the ground, rubbing his head after he lands with a thud. “Oof…that’s gonna smart…”

“Whoopsie! Sorry, Steely!” The person hanging from the ceiling begins to reorient herself, moving so that she’s right-side-up before dropping down onto the ground from her previous hiding spot on the ceiling. Doing so reveals her to be another gem like him, though in her case she has a smooth heart-cut black spinel gemstone in the center of her chest over her black and white-striped long-sleeved shirt. She has matching stripes along her legs with everything else she’s wearing- a pair of gloves, her slightly platformed shoes, a puffy pair of pocketed suspender shorts, the round cloth bindings between her torso and her arms, and a hairband holding her hair up into a ponytail- are all grey with the shorts, overalls, and main part of the shoes being a lighter shade while the hairband, gloves, soles of her shoes, bindings on her arms, and the buttons and pockets on her overall shorts are all the same shade of darker grey. Once her unusually long arms are detangled from the various wires and beams of the ceiling, she reaches down to offer the melanite a hand up. “You okay?”

He takes the offered hand and pulls himself back up to his feet. “Eh, nothing scuffed or cracked, so I’ll live.”

“Oh, goodie!” Knowing that he wasn’t injured seems to be all the go-ahead she needs to start laughing, her earlier smile returning full-force. “I haven’t gotten you that good in a while! You should’ve seen the look on your face!”

“Yeah, yeah, that was pretty funny.” The melanite’s slightly forced smile contradicts his words, but the spinel ignores him as she begins stretching her body around him- elongating her neck so she can peek around his shoulder from behind while her hands start poking and prodding at his pockets. “Um..whatcha doin’, doll?”

She stretches her neck further so that her face moves around in front of his. “You promised you’d bring me something, remember? You didn’t forget, right??” She begins to pout, looking disappointed by the lack of objects in his pockets.

He rubs the back of his head with a slight frown. “Oh, geez…sorry, somethin’ came up and I didn’t get the chance. My bad..”

“Awwwww…” Her entire body seems to deflate with the disappointing news, her elongated limbs and neck drooping down to the ground while her head remains upright in the air.

The melanite frowns a bit more at the sad look on the spinel’s face and pats her on the head. “Tell ya what? I’ll getcha three next time t’ make it up to ya. Sound good?” He offers her a smile to go along with his words.

“Really?!” She perks back up instantly, her limbs and neck snapping back into place as she gives him an excited smile.

“Sure thing.” He promises with a grin of his own at her renewed energy.

“Yay! Thanks, Steely!” The spinel throws her arms around the melanite in a big hug, the long limbs stretching so they can wrap and coil around him three times over. “You’re the best!”

“Heh, no problem.” He winces slightly from the tightness of the embrace. “Say, you seen Domino? I gotta talk t’ him ‘bout somethin’.”

“Oh, Dommy’s in his room.” She unwinds her arms from around him and points down one of the ship’s hallways. “Said he got a call from High Command.”

“Ah, cool.” He gives her another pat on the head before walking down the indicated hall. “Thanks, sweetheart.” He calls over his shoulder with a wave, not looking back at her.

“No problemo-!” She almost walks off, but stops and does a double-take, watching the melanite disappear down the corridor with a confused expression on her face. “Wait, ‘sweetheart’??” Keeping her eyes on him, she stretches her arms up to the beams on the ceiling and blends in with them once again.

The melanite continues towards his destination, unaware of the confusion from the spinel regarding his choice of words. As he passes one of the rooms, the door opens up and he bumps into someone right as they come out of what appears to be the ship’s control room.

“Hey, watch it!” The person he bumped into turns out to be another gem, this one looking like a brown-feathered female chicken with short dark hair. Her outfit is pretty casual, consisting of a black shirt with torn sleeves, ripped black jeans, black and white sneakers, black fingerless gloves, and what appears to be a white lab coat tied around her waist. As she rubs her head, the black gemstone on her left shoulder catches the light- at a glance, one could be forgiven for seeing it as just a regular black stone, but, as it refracts the lights overhead, the white star in the center appears, revealing it to be a round black and white star-sapphire. She looks up at the melanite she bumped into and rolls her eyes. “Steelbeak…why am I NOT surprised..?” She asks sarcastically.

The melanite helps her to her feet. “Sorry ‘bout that, toots.” He nods his head in the direction he was going before he bumped into her. “Domino’s still in his room, right?”

“……” The star-sapphire eyes him with an unreadable expression after he helps her up. “Yeah, I think so. He should be finishing up his call with High Command soon.”

“Good to know, thanks.” He continues on his way, unaware of the suspicious gaze following him as he walks away.

He walks to the end of the hall and looks at the five doors, each one imprinted with a different gem on the front: The first one on the right has a round black and white star-sapphire on it. The one right next to it has a heart-shaped black spinel. The first one on the left has a black ball-cut melanite. The one next to it has a step-cut black and white snowflake obsidian. The gem on the final door, located on the wall between the two sides of the hall, has been shot at, burned, and shredded so badly that the gem on it is no longer recognizable- all that remains are a few traces of blue between the bullet holes and gauges in the material.

Finding the door that he’s looking for, the melanite knocks twice on the one with the snowflake obsidian on the front.

“It’s open.” A voice from within calls, sounding distracted.

Activating the small panel beside the door, the melanite calmly walks in. “Hey, Dom.” He greets the room’s only occupant with a quick wave.

The gem in question is a loon with striking red eyes and a step-cut black and white snowflake obsidian on the right side of his chest. Unlike the other two gems on the ship, his outfit could be considered a bit more refined, consisting of a white collared shirt under a black buttoned-up vest, a red bow tie, a white hat with a red band holding a small domino in place, and a long white coat that went down to just past his white leg feathers with a red inner-lining, a domino on each shoulder, an unclasped red belt with a white buckle, and a pattern along the bottom featuring large black lines that were each topped with a black circle.

“Hm..?” The snowflake obsidian had been busy reading something on a datapad when the other gem walked in. Seated at a small two-person table built into the left wall of the tastefully decorated room, he looks up when he hears the melanite’s greeting. He cocks an eyebrow at the taller gem, setting the datapad aside for the time being. “Since when do you knock?”

The melanite just shrugs, stepping further into the room and letting the door close behind him. “Heard you was takin’ a call from High Command, didn’t wanna interrupt anythin’ important.”

“That’s never stopped you before.” Domino gets up from his seat, looking the other gem over slowly. “Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, mind telling me why you suddenly decided to deactivate your beacon and have been ignoring our calls for the past twenty-eight hours?”

“Eh, just ran into a bit of trouble.” He shrugs again, leaning against the wall casually. “Nothin’ I couldn’t handle.”

Domino crosses his arms, giving the other gem a mild glare. “If you ‘run into trouble’, you’re supposed to call us immediately. Code 67, remember? ‘All F.O.W.L. agents operating in teams of two or more are to call for backup to neutralize any threats above Class 2.’ Considering you had to go dark for more than a day, I’d say that threat fell far above a Class 2.” He watches the melanite closely, stern eyes picking him apart with their sharp gaze.

“Like I said, it wasn’t anythin’ I couldn’t handle- no need t’ get you an’ the ladies involved.” The melanite waves off the reminder and the stern glare, not noticing the way the other gem’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Anyway, we’ve got bigger things t’ worry about.” He looks down at Domino, his previous demeanor changing to something more serious. “I found somethin’ big you’re gonna wanna see for yourself…but I don’t think we can take the others with us for this one.”

“Oh?” Domino’s eyebrow raises again in a look of curiosity. “We have to go without Loony and Gandra? That does sound serious. Where exactly are we going?”

“Can’t talk about it here.” He says with a shake of his head. “Let’s just grab one of the backup pods, I know the way.”

Domino walks closer, pulling back the sleeve on his right arm to reveal a black watch similar to the one the melanite checked earlier in the field. “Just a moment, I got a message from High Command earlier and they wanted me to make sure everyone else got it.” He pushes a button on the screen shaped like a star-sapphire. “Gandra, I got a message regarding a possible Code Zultanite. Did you?”

The voice of the star-sapphire from earlier is heard through the watch’s speakers. “Yeah, I got that message. Loony?”

An image of a heart-shaped spinel appears on the screen as the spinel from earlier can be heard now. “Code Zulta- ohhhh! Yep! I got that too!”

“Good to know we’re all on the same page.” Domino walks over to the door and puts his hand on a small panel next to it, opening the door up quickly. “Now that that’s out of the way..” He doesn’t finish his statement- instead, he raises one hand and a white barrier forms in front of him. He then thrusts his hand forward, sending the barrier crashing into the melanite with a great deal of momentum that sends him flying out of the room.

“!!!” The melanite hits the closed door on the other side of the hall, wincing from the impact. “Hey, what’s the big ide-?!” He ducks just in time to avoid a burst of flames aimed directly at his head. “Woah!” He scrambles to get out of the way of another shot of fire, running down the hall to avoid the attack.

Domino follows him out into the hall, a pistol held in his right hand. “Oh, I think you know what the ‘big idea’ is…or do I have to make it even clearer for you?” He brings his left hand to the gem on his chest, the stone glowing as he pulls a second gun identical to the first out of his gem. He aims and fires the second gun at the floor below the retreating gem’s feet right as the barrel turns an icy blue, a bullet of the same color hitting the ground and freezing it over with a smooth sheet of ice.

“Ack!” The melanite slips and falls over, wincing again when he hits the ground. He isn’t given long to linger on the sensation, though, as he’s forced to quickly roll to the side to avoid a yellow bullet sparking with electricity that had been aimed right at his head. “Stars!” He swears under his breath, getting to his feet again once he’s off of the icy patch and trying to run while keeping an eye on the snowflake obsidian.

Unfortunately, this proves to be a mistake for him, as he doesn’t notice the black and white striped leg stretching across the floor in his path until it’s too late. The spinel from earlier stretches down from the ceiling and gives the melanite a light shove with her hand. “Tag, you’re it!” She laughs as he ends up tripping over her leg.

“Not yet, Loony.” The star-sapphire from earlier is standing over him when he lands on the ground, taking off one of her gloves. With the black fabric gone, dark lines that look like circuitry wired into her palm are revealed. “Now he’s it.” The lines on her hand light up right before she touches his face.

A powerful bolt of white electricity goes through the melanite’s body, making him spasm and twitch before everything goes dark…

Next Chapter-> End Notes: Keeping the first chapter fairly short to help with the pacing and properly establish each of the characters :)

Fun side note- I wanted to make Steelbeak and Domino part of a team as a mirror to the main story that focuses mostly on the Fearsome Four with occasional appearances from the Crystal Ducks (Darkwing, Launchpad, Gizmoduck, and Gosalyn). Both of the other main teams for the series were in groups of four, so I thought it would be fitting to make a F.O.W.L. team too :D Gandra was someone I’d already thought of putting on the team because I liked her DT17 design and already mentioned her before in the character bios along with Steelbeak.

When trying to figure out who would be the best option for the final member of the team, I remembered @thefriendlyfour ‘s and @deldraws19 ‘s pictures of Domino and Loony and felt like she would be a perfect fit that perfectly balances the group on multiple levels: Her cheerful disposition serves as a counterbalance for how sarcastic or cynical the others can get sometimes. Like Gandra, she’s a gem that doesn’t have a weapon of her own since she was never made to be a battle gem, but her stretchy, impenetrable body acts as a weapon in and-of-itself, similar to how Gandra uses the electrified white gem-destabilizers in her hand as a way to fight despite her purpose. I also really liked the balance of short to mid-range attacks she would be capable of in combat and enjoyed the idea that the girls (Gandra and Loony) on the team would be more of the up-close brawlers while the guys (Domino and Steelbeak) would be more of the mid to long-range fighters with their weapons. Add to all of this the fact that her and Domino have a sibling-like relationship AND that she would be someone who knew him back when he was with Checkers and there’s no way I could resist asking Del for permission to use this awesome character and I am so so SO glad I did because she works so well off of everyone else!

[01010010-posts]

— stuck/stick with me.

requests: I've got a great idea!! (Or so it seems rn) the Android Bois walking in on their s/o changing. How would they react? Bonus points if their s/o is more flustered than they are because they're stuck in a piece of clothing that isn't easy to take off 😈

could i possibly request a headcanon for the rk's where their s/o is getting dressed/undressed and suddenly their fav song comes on the radio/from the tv and they just start making these small dance moves while they forget what they were doing. like they just have half their clothes off and the bois come in. how would they react?? me? not exactly following requests? no, na-ah, not me.

Connor:

• “you’re sleepy?” he asks, tenderly caressing your hair, a soft smile on his lips while looking at your half closed lids • “mh-mh” you weakly murmur, almost dozing • “c’mon then, let’s go to bed” he turns off the tv and mechanically touches his knees, as if requiring them to help him get up, as if they could ever get stiff • he chuckles seeing your drowsy expression and can do nothing but being overwhelmed by an incredible sweetness, realizing how lucky he is to have you • he gets closer, leaving a peck on your forehead as he lifts you up with his arms around your figure, yes, he’s definitely spoiling you • your mind is partly awake partly in the land of dreams at this point • but you still manage to slurs out some words, head resting against his shoulder “how did that commercial go? tuttururuttu” you feebly sing • “you really need to get some shut-eye soon” and his chest rumbles with laughter, because, honestly, he was not expecting that • ‘you’re especially pretty when exhausted’ he’d like to confess you • he props you on the bed and hands you the pajamas • you do your best to not give in, ‘im not tired’ echoes in your brain as you put on clothes at a sloth speed • he’s this close to burst out snickering as he’s watching your cute ass self battle with a t-shirt • you’re so damn lovely he can’t • and out of the blue you continue your song, softly moving your legs as you’re putting on a pair of pants • he probably dies at that point • he, already in sleepwear, sits near your side, swiftly assisting you into changing since you’ve just got your right foot in the left leg of the trousers • and he goes along with you, his voice software imitating the music’s tempo • “you’re good at this” you murmur, tone doughy from the impending fatigue • “am I?” he whispers, giving you yet another kiss on the face, tucking you in “could say the same about you” • “am I?” you copy him, eyes already betraying your desire to let this conversation last longer • “yes, you are” he nods and smiles, knowing you probably didn’t even hear him, too busy drifting off “goodnight, love” 

RK900:

• you got off earlier • and you know this sap is going to take his time working serious stuff • so what’s best than changing into something cozy and eat unhealthy when he’s not here to scold you? • nothing trust me • yeah he MIGHT be the latest model in the whole state and a detective • but that bitch won’t ever know where you keep your secret junk food stash • actually he does know, he’s just playing along • you grab a few chips to placate your hunger, wipe your hands onto a towel and slide off towards the bedroom • nothing special happened today, in fact nothing special happened all week, but, to tell the truth, you feel.... happy? yes, you feel weirdly happy. serene, perhaps. you’ve got food on your table, a house, a partner. there’s no reason to have negative emotions if you think about it. • so it’s inevitable for you to start singing a little tune in the middle of searching for your sweatpants • what you don’t know is that this stupid little shit is home as well • but yep, of course, he’s silent as hell • you told him MULTIPLE times to put on a cowbell or something he has no right to scare you like THAT • he sighs as he sees your coat placed on the couch and not on the hall tree • OKAY fine he’ll put it there for you • as he’s doing that he hears you humming to yourself and gosh he melts on the spot • a dumb smile appears on his lips without him even realizing • he’s drawn to the bedroom and to you, bouncing your head left and right while you’re changing your shirt • he wants to give you a little surprise so he slowly starts to kiss your neck from behind • WHAT THE FUCK you’re obviously startled and your heart jump in your throat • he’s quick to repeat sorry over and over, fidgeting with his own hands because no, you were so cute, he didn’t want you to stop he’s such a clumsy dork he’s so so sorry • you brush it off, it’s nothing really, you just need to– • to– • “baby” • “mh?” • “im kinda– you know.... stuck.” • “what” • “my shirt. stuck. my arms are starting to hurt.” • “I take back my apology you broke the magic” • “COME ON I LOVE YOU” 

RK800-60:

• he insisted on taking you out on a date • which is hella cute if you ask • but he said it was going to be something special, something for your anniversary • ugh, this means you should dress up nicely, he’ll do the same after all • he’s such a dork you could take a hour on deciding your outfit and he wouldnt mind • you’re kinda there, juggling between clothes, and suddenly you hear him turning the radio on • gosh if he loves that tiny thingy • and gosh if he loves putting your favourite music • you unconsciously smile because gosh he is your dork • “babe! I’m ready, what about you?” he inquires from the living room • you can already picture him: seated on the couch with his usual weird position – the one he does only when he’s waiting for you – leg stiff, back properly straight, not touching the sofa and leaving few inches of space between, hands on his knees, tension in every fibre of his wires, fingers probably tapping out of impatience because as he told you one time ‘we spend too little time together! humans sleep and work so much!’ • “yeah– im almost done– FUCK!” • he listens to your struggle, perhaps about being stuck on some complicated piece of clothing, and giggles, standing up and going to see if you need any help • you surely do • ‘everything’s all right?’ he’d like to announce himself with a bit of a hint of a joke but words die in his mouth and he’s capable of only gulping down inexistent saliva • he watches you, dancing at your own rhythm, changing to look good for him, for him   • “you.... you’re really cute today” • you stop, oh? he was here? you didn’t notice? you laugh, untangling yourself from the mess “just today?” • he melts on the spot, leaning against the doorframe for support, a palm on his heart that’s beating fast • “no, always”

[prorevenge]

Dispute over an alarm clock ends a career.

A recent petty revenge story made me remember this experience from my teenage years, but this one definitely went all the way to pro. Strap in, it's going to be long. tl;dr at end.

So, just before my senior year in high school I turned 18 and bought a car with my saved up years of babysitting money. I'd have liked one sooner, but my mother absolutely refused. At 18 in my big act of teenage rebellion, I went out and bought one.

A couple months later, Auntie Asshole suddenly left her job from several states away and moved in with us. Without her car. It cost less if she waited six months until spring to get it shipped. Something about snowbird travel patterns. She was cheap and a user as well as an asshole.

As I result I was expected to share my recently acquired car with Auntie Asshole until hers arrived. This seemed deeply unfair, but nonetheless it was agreed upon that she could use it for appointments and job interviews since I could take the school bus. I needed to be warned in advance because my bus stop was the second one of the route. It left a lot earlier than I needed to if driving direct, and I liked sleep.

You may be wondering about now what this has to do with an alarm clock. Auntie Asshole is one of those people who likes to rile people up, then mock them for getting pissed off. She's always got a complaint, harsh word, and is feuding with somebody over something. Once she moved in with us, her complaint was my alarm clock. My room shared a wall with hers. The alarm was waking her mooching, unemployed, broke ass up every morning, and that pissed her off. Couldn't I just go to bed earlier so I didn't need an alarm clock?

The morning schedule at our house went something in the ballpark of this:

5:30 AM my workaholic mother leaves for the office.

5:45 AM my alarm goes off if taking the bus to school

6:15 AM my alarm goes off if driving to school

6:15 I leave if taking the bus to school

6:45 I leave if driving to school

Half past never: Auntie asshole's unemployed toushie needs to be anywhere

Auntie Asshole approached my workaholic mother about the horrific inconvenience of my using an alarm clock. Her solution was that my mother should wake me up every day at 5:30 before leaving. My mother told her to try earplugs or work it out between us. Workaholic Mother was massively non-confrontational and wanted no part of an Auntie Asshole dispute.

Auntie Asshole started sneaking into my room to unplug the clock after I fell asleep. I'm a hard sleeper, so she pulled this off a few times. I had a good number of tardies before I figured out it wasn't the new cat who initially got blamed. Woke up to see her standing over my bed one night. CREEPY! I screamed like a banshee waking the whole house. She claimed sleepwalking, and my mother let her get away with that lame excuse.

I endeavored to solve the problem myself with some superglue. Not the brightest move I made. That house got sold with a bonus electric blue alarm clock, and Auntie Asshole started turning the alarm off instead of unplugging it. So I started sleeping with my alarm clock tucked behind my pillow. No way Auntie Asshole could do anything to it without waking me now.

She was PISSED at having not gotten her way, and never let anything go ever. Auntie Asshole's next move was to get up when the alarm went off and race into the only bathroom with a shower. It was closer to her room than mine, so she always beat me there. She'd stash magazines in there to sit on the commode reading until right around 6:20. This is after the school bus has left, but still before I need to leave driving direct. Once I was taking a very rushed shower, she'd steal my keys and take my car ... wherever the hell the unemployed go to drive around all day.

She claimed that I just wasn't paying attention when she said she needed the car. She wasn't telling me. When my mother wasn't around, she made snide remarks that if she was woken up she had just as much right to the bathroom as I did. I could solve this problem by not waking her up. In addition to this she would take my car evenings and weekends always right before I had babysitting gigs. It never returned with more than fumes in the gas tank. She had to call roadside assistance twice for running out of gas because she'd guessed wrong on how far she could get on fumes.

Needless to say I was pissed. Also massively inconvenienced, and a lot poorer. I had beg friends for last minute rides or take a cab. She continued to blame me, and my mother stayed out of it. We got into a cat and mouse game with my keys where I eventually kept them on me at all times - even in the shower (this was an old car some years back; no electronic keys were harmed). The keys came in the shower with me because the counter wasn't enough to stop her from pulling the bathroom lock (pocket door; trivial) and coming in while I was showering to take them. Again, CREEPY! This eventually resulted in her asking in advance to borrow my car for a "job interview" that probably wasn't. She went to the key shop and got my car keys copied.

The next day, my keys safely back in my possession, she pulls the shower stunt again. She did it a lot even when she wouldn't take my car. Auntie Asshole was an asshole. I head out to the driveway keys in hand, and my car's not there. Legit thought she'd hot-wired it until I got home and it showed no signs of tampering. I'm not much for poking the bear, but it was time to have this out. Auntie Asshole quite smugly admitted to copying the key, called me a selfish bitch who didn't know how to share, and many other unfortunate things I don't remember exactly. She wasn't giving it back. What was I going to do?

I warned her that car was mine and she did not have permission to use it ever again. This was a bridge too far for me. There would be consequences. She laughed in my face.

The next morning my car was not in the driveway. I'd expected this. My best friend's dad was a cop. I was practically a fixture in his house for a decade, and he was the closest thing I had to a father figure due to my own deadbeat dad. So I gave him a call utterly distraught that the car I've worked so hard to get has been stolen from my driveway. He's very sympathetic. Did I mention my car had LoJack? It was actually a very nice car ... back when it was new anyway. We do all the reporting and whatever it takes for the cops to find it with LoJack.

By mid-afternoon they'd found it in the parking lot of an outlet mall. I don't know what the full details of the encounter were as I've heard multiple versions of this part of the story over the years. She had some kind of bitch tizzy on them upon being accused of theft including a tussle with an officer. It ended in charges of grand theft auto, resisting arrest, assaulting an officer, and some kind of license-related thing because she'd never switched it to her new state of residence. Don't throw a bitch tizzy at a cop. They don't like it much.

As this all took some time, she didn't get arraigned that day. As her unemployed broke ass had horrid credit and little money, she couldn't make bail. As I deleted her answering machine message begging my mother to come bail her out, my workaholic mother didn't even notice she was gone for almost a week. Once workaholic mommy did notice, I explained that my car had been stolen and I called the cops. I was handling the situation myself like she suggested. The look of dawning horror was amazing, then she shrugged and went back to avoiding all confrontation. Auntie Asshole served two weeks in county lockup until she took a plea deal. I suspect they slow walked her paperwork a bit.

What happened after was glorious revenge. Auntie Asshole's remaining savings were used up on all the fines and court fees, so she finally got around to shipping her car and engaging in a job hunt. One problem, she was previously a teacher. She'd yet to get her certification in her new state. Now she had a rap sheet and was unable to pass the background check. Whoops! Time for a new career as a telemarketer.

Auntie Asshole didn't bother me much after that. I learned years later she only went after kids hard, and I had proved enough of an adult she realized there were consequences for her actions. We spent the next few months ignoring each other before I headed to college.

And that's how a dispute over an alarm clock ended Auntie Asshole's teaching career.

tl;dr: Asshole aunt moves in and can't handle an alarm clock going off in the morning. Escalates dispute to the point of regularly taking my car without permission and making me miss school. I call cop friend to report missing car. It has lojack. She's dumb enough to get into a tussle with a cop when caught. Goes to jail for a bit. Can no longer pass background check, thus loses teaching career.

Edited to answer a few repeat questions:

What's up with your mother? Mental illness. She was not a bad person. She simply had almost no capacity to deal with conflict and retreated into her work as a coping mechanism. With time and understanding, I am sympathetic to her role. She has since passed away.

Why didn't you call the cops sooner? I had never dealt with anybody so lacking boundaries like Auntie Asshole before. I genuinely thought there was a limit, and I just had to handle things until we got there in the name of family harmony. It was also supposed to be temporary. I had college coming up quick and she was supposed to find a job/apartment, so it was very time bounded. It's the nuclear option to call the cops on a family member, and a very scary thing to contemplate at 18 years old. I also wasn't sure it would work given she could claim I was confused about permission and the chances my mother would back me up were close to zero. Once I still had my keys in hand and no car in the driveway, that was a game changer in my eyes.

Can we get more of an epilogue? There's not a lot to say. I went no contact with Auntie Asshole after leaving for college. Between her prison stint and my departure, she ignored me and I returned the favor. I found out later that she only seriously picks on kids. I'd proved myself an adult who could deliver consequences for her actions. Now I spend holidays with my husband's lovely family and visit the stable family members at other times. Somehow I have hair washing to do every reunion. Whoops. She's never gone back to teaching, thank goodness.

(source) (story by sunnykl)

[vegetalass]

Everything Electric

Inspired by the mess that was the spoilers nsfw discord chat and the conversation abt argent ripping out one of ur eyes… It unlocked the fact that i used to like gore…. SMH

TFW lady argent rips out one of ur eyes and then u go to dr. mortum and say thenks mather for my life

FORGIVE ME if this is shit it wasnt beta read

Villain name: Ophelia

Warning: contains Fallen Hero: Retribution spoilers, and heavy blood and gore!!! RATED R BRO!

FH:R belongs to @fallenhero-rebirth

Lady Argent/gn!Reader/f!Dr. Mortum - 2371 words

i.

Blood.

So much blood is leaking out of your mouth as the pressure on your windpipe keeps increasing.

“Argent…” you gurgle, trying to spit but ending up drooling a messy concoction of blood and spittle all over your villain suit instead.

Her claws are extended, this time longer than you’ve ever seen them, and while one hand presses into your windpipe hard enough to make you dizzy, the other is dangled in front of your nose like a toy in front of a child.

And you are not a child.

“Stop,” you plead, stuttering, even though your throat burns and eyes water in pain. But Lady Argent does not, and looking into her face lets you know that she doesn’t plan to, either. From the empty look in her eyes, you can tell that she’s lost herself in another world — one where the both of you never formed an alliance, and one where you deserve Hell and she’s the chosen one who’s going to give it to you.

Suddenly, though, as you should’ve been expecting this, she screeches something unintelligible and plunges her fingernails deep into your eye socket. Though at first you feel nothing more than an annoying pinching sensation, as the pain begins to register and become too much, you hardly notice as the pressure in your head releases in a pop so intense that the rest of your vision goes dark.

You try to scream, but end up making some kind of choked whine instead, as Argent hasn’t moved a muscle since and continues her heavy assault on your throat.

“What is it, Ophelia?” she grins, her teeth gleaming in the light of the moon, before laughing at her own stupid inside joke. “Is something wrong?”

As her fingers continue to root around inside your head, claws doing irreversible damage to your nerves, you try to use her distracted and giddy state to pull her other hand loose from around your neck. While trying to find enough space between her hands and your throat to breathe, Argent’s body shakes again in her mad state, and you are able to tear yourself away from her grasp in the hopes of collapsing on the floor and somehow getting away.

But it’s too late, as she is not so kind as to spare you, and continues holding onto the warm flesh hidden inside your eye socket. What a pitiful state you must be in, howling and moaning, as she succeeds in coming away victorious, and you are left seeing and tasting red from sudden lack of an eyeball.

Breathe, dry heave, rinse, and repeat. You don’t even register the pain when you press your dirty palms against what’s now a hole in your head and try not to hyperventilate.

You look up at her, missing eye covered, good eye blurry, and see her victory pose, smiling above you and holding the bloodied piece of you-meat like a trophy. Though instantly at your recognition, she throws the slimy meatball over her shoulder and uses her fist to slug you in the jaw.

“You didn’t even need that,” she says while laughing, before gazing into what’s left of your eyes and deciding to walk away.

Blood is still leaking from your mouth… and Argent doesn’t look back as she leaves you to sob on the concrete.

ii.

You look nothing like the weeping animal she left in the alley. And you look nothing like the weeping human she was expecting to see at your next meeting, either. Your face is not sunken in, bruised, or malformed. You’re not in an eyepatch or mask, and your face seems to look almost brand new.

A new face, almost… a new eye.

The realization hits her like a train, and she snarls, upset at the smug smile you pointedly send her way when you realize that she has it all figured out.

A replacement. The beautiful, black aperture Dr. Mortum installed in place of an eye.

And Lady Argent can see every wire, every miniscrew, and every bit of fiberglass that was used to create a weapon more fluid and powerful than any of the tech she’s seen installed in any of the Rangers.

And it makes her mad, fingers flexing and claws cutting into her palms as she makes plans to take a swipe at your face at the next chance she gets just to peel back your skin.

You smile at her, the angry thoughts like water off a duck’s back.

“So, you noticed,” you say, full of pride and a sense of smug satisfaction, “how do I look?”

Argent snarls, though she does pause to admire the lovely handiwork that was done to your face as you wait for a reply.

While your skin might look the same on the surface to any normal passerby, there’s no hiding the internal metal plating that’s been fused to your skull permanently, or the black sclera that whirs softly unlike normal white flesh. One has to wonder what kind of twisted procedure you put yourself through just to get better, because it was only an eye that she managed to take and now you’re practically a cyborg.

But saying you were completely healed would be unfair, as you haven’t fully gotten used to the implant yet. The way that things blur in high definition and in a spectrum brighter than anything you could ever image.

Chrome. Thermal. Electromagnetic. Something you can’t even name.

Like Lady Argent’s eyesight, from what you remember of possessing her, though you can’t see any wires or pipes through walls or anything. But this isn’t so bad, you think, not that you’d ever want lose an eye again. You’re just thankful her claws didn’t manage to clip into your brain.

Before the operation, the Good Doctor did require you to keep your remaining organic eye, and all the leftover tissue that was still in the damaged socket, but as expected, her technology was flawless. You find it’s often quite easy to forget you even have anything fake implanted in your head at all as the gradient technology she installed first was the easiest thing to get used to.

High tech and lightweight Medi-Polymer in place of a real cornea and iris, fitted with a sleepless microcomputer and accurate analytics, all grafted to your optic nerve in a painful surgery that had you out of commision for weeks.

Despite the lasting, striped scars that Dr. Mortum couldn’t be bothered to fix, she did let you choose the flashing colors it displays to the world, even if so far you have left the bandages on in public. It does help hide your face, though, and that’s always a bonus.

So, you’d say it was worth it, despite being forced to tell Ortega when he wouldn’t stop fretting at the sight of your head wrapped in tape and gauze that it was some unexplainable and permanent head trauma. You left the part where Lady Argent mauled you out, as it’s a secret that’s to be left between the two of you (and Dr. Mortum, of course).

It was the one thing you could be sure of, Lady Argent wanting to spare herself from the news by not getting reported by another Ranger.

Though still lost in thought, it’s easy to detect the waves on rage that now pour from Lady Argent’s mind into yours at your silence, as suddenly, she breaks your reminiscing by lunging at you. Her fingers quickly extended into sharp-pointed knives as she reaches for your face, but instead of simply waiting to be scratched, you catch her wrist in your hand easily, and twist her body away from yours to slam it against the waiting brick wall behind the two of you.

It’s like you didn’t even need to see her move.

“What?” you ask, feigning confusion at her shocked face, as she is now on her knees below you with some kind of crooked neck.

You don’t start to choke her. You don’t even mention her eyes. And even if she hates you, you can still read the recognition in her mind of the fact that you didn’t kick her down just to get revenge.

Because for once, she feels helpless and knows that you know it.

“Call me sometime, okay?” you taunt, laughing in her face the way she did at the eyeless and crying you, before leaning down to wipe her bleeding nose with your cape. She knows the gesture is not meant to be kind, and as her mind replays the swift way you were able to knock her off her feet, she is suddenly aware of how much powerful you really have gotten.

All because of an eye. The one that she took.

You straighten up, still looking down at her with your teeth bared in a smile. One eye cruel, and the other a mean, unblinking blue and orange. Both intense and focused.

iii.

You moan in pain as she peels back the bandages, blood vessels in your closed eye socket pounding against the heat of what you can only assume to be your brain overheated with the nasty fever you’ve been sporting since the incident itself. You grit your teeth as the dirty cloth is removed, now damp and warm from sweat, and the fact that you haven’t changed it in a few days. “Now, what did you do this time, Ophelia?” Dr. Mortum’s voice is neutral, though you know from your game of charades that she only starts to wonder aloud when she’s getting really curious and the probability of you actually responding is close to zero.

“Lady Argent,” you mutter, trying to be amused by Mortum’s long ‘ah’ at the confession. You’re not doing a great job at resisting the urge you have to reach up and press your knuckles into your head and relieve some of the pressure.

“I’m flattered that you chose to trust me, though it’s not recommended for any clients of mine,” Mortum continues, having wandered off after taking one good look at your ruined eye socket and deciding to search for one of her many stored medical kits, “but your assistant, I presume, is so sweet.”

You know who she’s referring to, but you’re just glad that everything worked out.

It took all of your remaining energy just to enter your puppet’s head one last time to give her a call. Begging her to come pick up your aching body and drive you away in the back of her car to replace the half of your face that Lady Argent destroyed, as this was something you couldn’t do yourself.

It took a couple days for her to find you, but she did, and it was a relief to see her, even if you were neither in your puppet or pretending. It’s funny how things work out.

All those self-stitched scars. For nothing.

“I assume we’re going with a full replacement?” she voices, having returned and seated herself at your side to begin the cleaning, soaking and opening process.

You cannot help the eager nod that escapes you, even though the saline solution Dr. Mortum starts applying to your face has you leaking red tears instantly.

“It will take a few weeks, and then more to recover…” she hesitates, exhaling, and you can tell she’s scanning you for any signs of danger, “but you can stay here.”

You know what she’s thinking, that even in your weak state you could be a danger to her practice. But from the way you look in the image of you in her head, you can tell there’s not much danger to even be had. You look so frail, sick, and destroyed. Not the mention, from the way she glances up and down your form, it’s almost as if you weren’t someone she was expecting to be the Ophelia.

But you are never what people expect.

And with that, she decides that due to your sickly state, you are not a liability. You are not about to jump up and destroy her or her lab. If you tried, you know it would be quite easy to stun you into submission and take out your remaining eye as punishment, too. She doesn’t have to think it to know it.

Because she pulled a gun on you once before.

But her thoughts have changed directions, almost easily, naturally, and you can tell now that what she’s thinking is kind. Suddenly, her thoughts of you are as an ally. No, a friend, and for all intents and purposes, you are dying of a high fever she know that in the hands of anyone else, could leave you as a pitiful, sightless corpse.

But Dr. Mortum isn’t cruel. She never has been, and you are glad when she responds to you in kind at the thought of the mutual understanding and benefits you could share if she does decide to help you. You do your best to push the thought her way instead of speaking.

She smiles finally, then, at least you hope that’s what she’s doing, and runs her cool knuckles across your bloody and sweat-stained forehead in a form of soothing reassurance that makes you feel like a child.

And you are not a child.

Though, you are glad that you’ve always been quite generous to her, and that it’s easy to look human in your sticky, skin tight pajamas.

Not there’s much you could really say if (or rather, when) she were to find out the truth, because existing can’t get much worse than this.

And if you were that someone else, anyone else, you’d love to respond to her contact. Her sweetness. Her power.

But you’re not, and it’s always been your puppet who she’s preferred, anyways.

But right now, you let yourself be sick. You let her touch you and welcome you into her waiting arms. Because she might not welcome you again.

“You’re lucky I’m a doctor, Mon Cherie,” she whispers finally, voice kind, body warm. And as you sink yourself into her and try to smile with closed eyes, you hope that it doesn’t look like an ugly, toothy grimace.

Because you know you are really, very lucky.

[donaldduckau]

Uncanny resemblance Au

This au is inspired by transdonaldduck art so check her work if wanted to

In this Au, Donald starts to look like scrooge whilst raising the triplets.

Donald was in his houseboat looking at his sisters eggs whom she disappeared for whilst thinking about his uncles actions. He couldn't believe scrooge built that rocket when he told him was too risky to take but he still bluilt it, didn't he think Della would find it after all she literally finds everything especially things that for her. He didn't have time to hang around no he had to buy cribs,toys among other items for the triplets as he wasn't going to go back to scrooge's.

Donald goes to the back of the houseboat entering door that housed all the treasures he collected on his travels. He sorts through the items from gems, totems, coins even books listing the values of them, a skill he develop from listening to his uncle all the time. Donald takes the eggs to someone he trusts to not tell scrooge, Daisy duck his sister in law from the triplets father side. Donald knocks on her door, it's few minutes before daisy answers "hello what can I do? Donald omg ate they my nephews" taking a egg as she shows him in her house. Donald and daisy are sitting on couch as Donald asks her to watch the eggs " can you watch them for me for two or one day please daisy " daisy doesn't hesitate to reply " yes Donald but why not scrooge " Donald doesn't look her in the eye "I got some things to sell" understanding what he means she gently replies "okay" letting him out to do what he needs to do.

Donald goes back to his houseboat collecting all the coins he's collected from his journeys. Donald travels around duckburg entering all the coin experts stores remembering the prices before entering the one that gave the highest amount. Donald does the same for the gems going through the various experts on gems before selling each gem to the store that gave highest amount for each type of gem. It's takes longer to sell the books as books are in another language so it takes while before he manages to sell all the books leaving the easiest items, Donald knows no one but a few will no the values of these items but people like his uncle so he starts walking towards glumgolds company,

Donald enters glumgold building that easy to recognise by the massive image of glumgold face on the top of the building. Donald walks towards the desk " I need to see glumgold" the receptionist apologises " sorry sir but glumgold busy" Donald kindly tells her " I'm scrooge McDucks nephew I think he want to see me, my name donsld" the receptionist buzzs a button " sir a duck claiming to be scrooge McDucks nephew Donald is here to see you " it answers back " bring him to office now " the receptionist guides Donald towards Glumgold office.

Inside glumgold office."so what brings scrooge nephew to my office" looking at the bag Donald carrying. Donald uses glumgold rivalry with his uncle to his advantage. " Simple I want to sell these to you " laying the items for glumgold to see. " after all these are worth some money, scrooge nephew selling it to you not him I wonder what he do when he finds out" glumgold smirks "you got a deal laddie here take ***********" Donald leaves the room hearing glumgold laughing.

Donald goes to a baby store, buying a crib and draws for his nephews among colour coded clothes for the three yet to be hatched ducklings finishing with paint for the room. Donald arrives at the houseboat entering his once treasure room to now boys room, he cleans the floor and paints the walls white after a hour the walls are dry. He repaints the walls red, blue and green on wall each leaving that to dry, once the paint dry he starts assembly the crib. He places it towards the north side whilst the east side is the draws and he's finished .

Donald starts to place the money he got left from the sold treasures for the boys college fund. Donald starts walk to daisy as he enjoyong the peace and quiet. Donald looks at some windows stores for toys for the unhatched triplets and notices book on display one that being sold cheaper than its worth and having nothing for himself decides to buy it. Donald enters the store picking up the book buying it as he walks out a women speaks behind him "that's rare book you have I say it's worth" before she could finish Donald says the value. The women starts starts saying items and he says the value until she gives him a card "if you want a job as a antique seller just call" before walking away. Leaving Donald confused.

Donald arrives at daisy place and thanking her,she offers to watch them anytime she can, Donald will remember this as he leaves carrying the eggs "thanks daisy"

Donald calls the lady about the job as she was expecting . the women starts training Donald on how to notice fakes and real items whilst training Donald on how to sell items and buying, Donald starts to find the work fun and hes able to leave the hatched duckling whom he named hubert , dewford and lleweyln with daisy when he can. its not the job he saw himself doing but for them he stick with it.

Years pass by as the triplets grow, Donald starts a company of selling an antigues that's quiet successful that required or chosen to wear glasses to show the details on items better. Donald starts to wear suits more to be respected by possible sellers of buys as he learnt you got look respective to be successful adding a cane for touch.he still lives on his houseboat.

Donald was starting to dress for work as he noticed Louie and Huey were hanging around him getting suspicious he firmly asks them " why are you hanging around I thought you huey would try reading you guide book whilst you Louie be on your phone " Louie and huey stare at each other before replying " we were going tell your late as the clocks went head a hour" Donald starts to rush knowing they lying, he grabs Louie and huey before asking "where's dewey" turning his head hearing towards the staring wheel where dewey was most every time. Dewey excitedly says " just this wire then adventure waits" before turning his head hearing his uncle "no adventure for you but a grounding dewey" Donald picks Dewey up as he places him in his car next to Louie and then he hears his houseboat explodes. Sighing Donald calls daisy " daisy can you to take the triplets for today something happen" daisy on the other side apologises " sorry Donald I just got story that I got to leave for" ending the call. Donald places a hand on his head as he calls her the last person he knows or trust to take care of the triplets, ms Bearley whom accepts his request.

Outside Scooge gates, Donald exits his car , buzzing the button informing that Beakley he was there before the gates could open his uncle arrives. Donald walks to his uncle stiffly speaking "Uncle Scrooge" scrooge shocked relies "Donald "acting if he recognised his nephew who looks like a younger version of himself. Donald hears the triplets get excited about this development before asking scrooge "your looking good" with scrooge replies "still live on that boat" gaining a reply "still a billionaire scrooge points his cane towards the gates Donald turns his head at the direct pointed. "So" "so" scrooge angry orders " get that deadbeat joelumpy off my drive way" Donald replies "so you think your richest duck in the world" scrooge replies " I am the richest duck in the world Now move " Donald replies "Just as it happens I have business deal to go to" scrooge asks "why you here then " Donald replies "ms Beakley said you watch the boys so can you watch them " scrooge replies "of course I can" Donald starts walking towards the car rolling his eyes " thank youu soon much " scrooge pride fully says " your welcome Wait? What now" Donald starts introduce the boys to scrooge "huey, dewey and louie remember no no lies , no lies no trouble" the boys sweetly say "yes Donald " Donald stares scrooge "I wasn't talking about you" before leaving the triplets with scrooge the towards the business deal with glumgold.

[shewantedtobeasecretgirl]

7. Bass is heavy a.k.a. useful finger techniques, Dee Dee Ramone’s yelling and helpful octopuses

„Damn, I forgot Sly and Ethel in the van!” she groans and slaps on her forehead.

“No problem, I bring them with the next round.” Scully offers and disappears in the hallway that leads to the backdoor. I have no idea who Sly and Ethel can be but I don’t want to know it either… Now that she’s been left alone she tries to push the carriage trolley with the amps to its place on the stage. With little success. But her fight with the gear twice as heavy as her reminds me of a scene.

“Old woman!” I call her.

“Man!” she corrects me still pressing against the load at full strength. Okay, she passed the test again but that’s not a big deal, Monty Python’s Holy Grail basically became a mainstream movie by now, anybody could quote a few scenes from it. Okay, not everyone, none of my former girlfriends was familiar with absurd humor and neither is Amber. I got her to watch it with me but I gave up the mission and turned off the video recorder when she asked for the third time how much time was left of it. It’s just not for her.

“Okay, Dennis, where’s my cow?” I inquire while I’m helping her win the battle; otherwise hours later, the amps would still stand in the middle of the stage and our crowd would enjoy her hopeless struggle instead of the show.

“Are you deaf? Or just concentration problems?” she asks harshly, avoiding my glance and trying to ignore my intervention but her rush moves uncover the surprise she might feel about it.

“Hey, it’s not easy to talk with you, do you know? I asked you about something, I even emphasized my lack of information using a different tone, in grammar text books you can find the encyclopedic explanation in chapter “Question”.” I draw a question mark with my index finger in the air. “The next communication panel is the so-called “answer” in which you satisfy my need for details…” I gesture the quotation marks too.

“I won’t satisfy you in any way, excuse me…” she cuts me off and even tosses me away a bit as she steps dynamically to the monitor board to plug the cables into it.

“I’m just trying to ask where’s my…” I don’t need to finish the sentence since Scully arrives back with Dave’s stage prop, holding my cow under his arm.

“And I was trying to refer to the fact that we take care of Ethel and Sly.” she nods at the two mascots.

“Ethel?” I blurt out frowning. This chick isn’t sane, she was serious about searching for a name for it… “Since when has she been called Ethel?”

“Actually her name has always been Ethel, you’ve just never asked her about it.” she fixes her glasses with a wiseacre face. “She was quite unhappy, did you know that? I caught her searching for numbers of slaughterhouses in the phonebook as she wanted to volunteer to be a steak ingredient, no wonder knowing you. But when I told her we were traveling to Texas soon she immediately changed her mind. Now she wants to be the spokesperson of the anti-rodeo movement. A little care makes wonders.”

Her fantasy is quite intense, I have to admit.

“So you’re obsessed with stuffed animals?” I ask leaning against my Marshall and watch her wiring the stage with quick moves.

“…asks the guy who keeps one on his amplifier…” she mumbles darting at me for a second and raising one eyebrow. “What are you doing here, anyway? Are you supervising me or what? As far as I know I’m an unbearable person who makes the others admire her and uses her family ties…”

Nice attempt but not enough to distract me.

“…and who told, ahem, yelled at me that I should get to know her better, that’s what I’m trying to do right now.” I continue the sentence. “So tell me, Judith, how many stuffed animals do you have exactly? I bet there are a few ones in your bedroom… my first estimation would be somewhere between five and ten.”

“Oh yeah, my bedroom. Damn, you’ve got me… First of all there’s that huge teddy sitting on my bed, how did you figure it out? Then there’s the bunny in the armchair, the cute seal on my desk and my stuffed pony and unicorn collection, I gave up counting them a few years ago. And I have to mention that everything in the room is very pink and very fluffy. Do I meet the profile you created about me?” she bats her eyelashes.

Clever, but not clever enough to drive me to the wall.

“Actually, when I asked you about stuffed animals I was talking about stuffed animals. Like, dead animals which are stuffed. I mean, I could totally imagine a few stuffed bats, snakes and rats hanged on your shelves full of mysterious ingredients for occult purposes. Candles arranged on the points of a huge pentagram, right next to the coffin-shaped bed…”

“You left out the voodoo dolls. I have a bunch of them, the latest one I prepared wears denim pants and a Luv Co shirt tucked into them…” she approaches threatening me with a jack plug and for one second I think she’s about to stick it into my eyeball but in the last moment she changes direction and plugs it into the matching slot of the amp. I acknowledge, she didn’t need much time to know her way around our gear… But come on, even a chimpanzee can be trained how to put different solids into the right holes, she’s on the level of an average lab monkey. “But how come I turned from a nun into a witch in one single day? You’re pretty much inconsistent at insulting, Gossard…”

That makes sense. I open my mouth to cite the witch hunt scene from the mentioned movie but Scully intervenes in our conversation.

“Guys, if you go on like this I’ll claim payrise from Eric…”

“For what? How do you mean it?” she turns in his direction with hands on hips.

“Conflict management bonus.” he shrugs casually. “Seriously, could you just stop for a moment? For just a few seconds, I feel like I was at a fucking dogfight.”

“It was him who started it!” she exclaims outraged pointing at me.

“Don’t look at me, I don’t know what she’s talking about.” I play dumb raising my hands in front of me.

“Jesus, you’re hopeless. Forget the stopping part, I just want the money.” Scully shakes his head resigned.

“Money? What money? I don’t know what’s going on here but I want money too.” Smitty enters in the company off Dave, Karrie and Jeff.

“When did everybody get so greedy? Actually, it is you who should pay me for my show, I’m the only one who keeps you entertained in this boring touring life.” I smirk as I begin to tune my orange Les Paul.

“As for me, I prefer boredom by all means.“ she rolls her eyes and begins to flipping through her notebook.

“Hey, Judy, we have a few spare hour after the soundcheck and I thought… I thought we could begin your bass guitar lessons.” Jeff scratches his nape holding his other hand deep in his pocket. Awkward loverboy alert… I pull a few steps away because I’m not interested in this embarrassing lovey-dovey but I also try to stay within earshot. Not that I give a shit about it, it’s just better to keep up with the sequels.

“Sure!” she smiles. “I mean, Karrie, do you have any plans for the rest of the afternoon? If you don’t, we could…”

“Beth wants to do some shopping, I forgot to mention it… so I’m going with her. I wanted to ask you too but I have a mind like a sieve…” Karrie answers suspiciously quickly.

“Oookay, then why not?”

“Your place or mine?” Jeff asks not noticing how ambiguous he sounds.

“Jesus, Jeff, you don’t waste your time, straight to the point…” I throw in, which makes the others stop staring them and suddenly everybody pretends to be busy with their work to hide their grins and snorts.

“There’s that small park near the hotel, what if we go there?” the target person of the courtship tries to ignore my remark but can’t disguise the tremble in her voice.

Clever, again. She picks a neutral place. Cautious enough not to show her closest surrounding and smart enough not to get in awkward situations. I mean, boys’ rooms tend to be quite messy, the mixed smell of sweat and deodorant for men, not to mention the stinky sneakers and boxers left on the bed…

“Great. I’ve already mapped out which things I want to show you first.” Jeff goes on enthusiastically and more awkwardly if it’s possible at all. I see Dave’s shoulders shaking as he kneels behind his bass drum to fake-fix its pedal.

“Let’s begin with the basics, I only learnt the most common chords to be able to play some accompaniment to campfire songs and nursery rhymes.” she insists on keeping the conversation under control but Jeff doesn’t seem to cooperate.

“I can teach you a few useful finger techniques.” he exercises the fingers of his bear paws with sincere innocence in his eyes but at this point everybody cracks up; even his future music student giggles bashfully.

“What’s with everyone?” he looks around confused. “What’s so funny?”

“You should… have… heard yourself...” Scully hiccups as he and Smitty collapse of uncontrollable laughter onto each other’s shoulder.

“Oh yeah. That conversation was… juicy.” Dave adds winking and doing unmistakable moves with his hips and arms.

“Oh fff…” Jeff buries his face into his palms replaying the scene in his head. Dave steps to him to pat his shoulders a few times.

“You know what, Ames? You shouldn’t talk so much about what you’re going to do. Just… do it.”

***

“So what’s your plan with that skateboard?” Judy asks while we’re walking in the park searching for a remote place. She hasn’t come up with that awkward conversation yet and I can’t be grateful enough to her for that. I don’t know what happened to me, usually I’m not that clueless type… I was probably way too much focused on the possible outcome of this day. If can I stick to my plan, I’m going to ask her out in like one hour and I have absolutely no idea what she might answer and that drives me crazy. Cool down, Ament, don’t act like a junior high school student before his first prom…

“Uhm… I know it sounds surprising but I thought I could skateboard here…” Aaaand in the category of meaningless answers, the Oscar goes to… drumbeat… Jeffrey Allen Ament, Big Sandy, Montana!!! “Plus, I thought if being a qualified musician, you found the class boring, we could spice it up with some physical challenges… like… you should play bass lines while rolling and balancing on this skateboard. And if it was still a piece of cake for you we could search for a skate park with half pipes and you could even do somersaults and flips.”

“I don’t know… I’m not an athletic type… I’ve only tried to ride a scooter once in my life. Mary Sue Kellerman, my classmate lent me hers on the playground when we were second graders. She explained and showed me how to do it but somehow I didn’t feel the technique, I stepped on it, drove it a few times and enjoyed the speed so much that I forgot to drive it again.” she giggles.

“And… what happened?”

“Seeing I was slowing down she yelled after me like ”Drive, drive!” but I felt paralyzed, I pulled up gradually and ended up tumbling from a standing position…”

“Poor you! But my first skateboarding attempts weren’t glorious either and I still collect a few injuries when I decide to learn a new trick. But I fell in love with it at first… try, and I never want to give it up.”

“You could be a cool, skateboarding grandpa who shocks the youth!”

We find a calm, trellis-like corner and settle down still discussing the same topic. Unlike most girls I know, she doesn’t mind it at all and when I tell her how my father convinced me to build my own skateboard instead of buying that expensive Stacy Peralta board, she turns out to know him. I can’t believe my ears when she mentions Tony Alva too, I mean, who’s this girl?

“And how did you pick up how to play the guitar?” she nods towards the bass on my lap.

“Believe or not I took a few lessons… But they were boring, at least for me, no chords, no songs, only scales…”

“Scales are important!” she corrects me. I always forget that she’s pretty conscious as for music which isn’t typical at all in the band.

“What can I say… I grew up listening to my uncle’s records and as I could spare some money I spent all of it on ordering music magazines and vinyls. And when I started playing bass I figured out how to use my stereo vinyl player to learn Dee Dee Ramone’s parts.”

“I love them!” she exclaims.

“Really? I mean, you know a lot about music and punk songs aren’t very sophisticated concerning the musical part…”

“But that’s the best in punk. Even if you’re not very talented technically you still can play a bunch of songs… or if you can’t, you can still reproduce Dee Dee Ramone’s totally out-of-rhythm “one-two-three-four” yelling. And most punk songs operate with the classic scale degrees. Ramones also use the holy trinity of tonic, subdominant and dominant like the greatest composers before them and…” she jabbers enthusiastically without breathing.

“Waitwaitwait, stop! I don’t have the faintest clue what you’re talking about, if you want to analyze my favorite songs to me you have to go back to Genesis to make it understandable for this Montanan jerk!” I cut her off chuckling.

“Do you mean the Old Testament or the band?” she grins. “Anyway, it’s very simple, look.”

She grabs the instrument out of my lap, disposes it onto hers and strums all strings one after another.

“Normal basses are tuned like double basses, right?“ To my nodding she names them. “E, A, D, G. So, let’s take Blitzkrieg Bop which is written in A major.” She plays the bass line of the mentioned song flawlessly and explains its chord progression in the meantime. I listen to her with dropped jaw and when she falls silent for a second, I take my bass quickly back.

“Okay, the lesson is over, excuse me but I have to go and bury myself alive.” I remark trying to keep a straight face.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t want to sound like a nerd or show off with my theoretical knowledge, I…”

“You don’t have to apologize for amazing me! But now it’s my turn to amaze you… Do you like graffiti?”

“I don’t know… I’m ambivalent… there are a few ones which look good and are also meaningful but if someone destroys a clear wall with stupid scrawls…” she frowns.

Oh. That’s not a good sign… Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…

“I prefer the creative ones too, such as my friend from the art school. He studied photography and spent his last years with shooting the best graffiti he’s seen all across the country and Canada and his exhibition opens on Thursday in Boston. And since we have a day off right that day, right there, I thought you could join.” I utter fast with one big breath. She stares me silently for a few seconds which seem like an eternity.

“ ’Course. Cool.” she answers briefly as if she was declaring something evident. I don’t have too much time to process the positive reception since she begins to roll my skateboard back and forth with her foot.

“Your introduction made me curious, I want to try this diabolical device.”

“Haha, okay, but only if I can walk next to you, you may need a handhold.”

She steps onto the board and she rolls cautiously on the path where we got here in a few minutes. She’s too busy with balancing to notice the rest of the band approaching from the gate.

“Hey Jeff, a suspicious woman is trying to steal your baby!” Eddie shouts.

“Look, guys I’m skateboaaaaaa…” she has to circle with her arms a few times and grab my shoulder to prevent herself from tumbling.

“Carefully, Judy. You should try surfing, it improves sense of balance and falling in water is safer than concrete.” Ed recommends.

“Say yes, if you don’t want to be fired…” Mike whisper-shouts hiding his face with one hand from Eddie preventing him from hearing it, which is obviously totally unnecessary.

“I’m not a big swimmer, so…” she shrugs apologetically.

“Anyway, did Jeff force you to try it? You can answer by signaling with your eyelids…” Mike jokes on.

“No, she just turned out to be a way better bass player than me. So I’ll quit the band and she’s begun to practice before she has to take over all of my tasks.”

“Ah, I see. Judy, I warn you, you’ll have to slam-dance with me. You should gain some weight, I don’t want to kill you…”

“Ed’s right. I’m going to slap you in the face with the guitar neck a few times… I mean literally… but no offense, you can hit back anytime you want or you can land on my foot after jumps from the monitor box like Jeff does…”

Judy wrinkles her nose as she tries to follow the relay of jokes. Stone – who has stayed silent until now – flashes an evil grin and clears his throat. The well-known first signs of his moronic verbal diarrhea.

“Guys, you forgot to prepare her for the most important circumstances. But that’s why I am the band leader… Judith, you have to do some shopping. The polyester basketball shirts are essential parts of our stage look, we can’t allow ourselves losing them just because Jeff quits. And the hats… that’s a more difficult question, they look quite… unique… so I don’t think you have any other choice than borrow them. Do you have sensitive scalp? Because… nevermind, I can lend you a few bandanas to make it more hygienic. Oh, and at certain points of the shows you’ll have to strip. Jeff often drops his shirt and plays on half-naked as you could already see it, you can’t break this tradition. But you also have to keep the hat on your head, don’t ask me why, that’s the rule.”

I sway my guitar case pretending I want to hit him and in the meantime I bite my lower lip to repress my grin. Stone is an idiot but sometimes he has good ideas… I mean obviously I can relate to that plot if I can be in the crowd… Jesus, when did I become such a sexist? I’ve just asked the poor girl out and… I’d better take a cold shower.

***

“And can we see you on TV on Saturday?” I ask rolling the film with my finger back and forth on the table. When Judy called me I was selecting pictures I want to show to Krisha as reference works and I found a few ones which I have to have developed.

“Nah, I don’t think so. We’re going to be with the guys in the studio but we’re not going to be filmed with the cameras. I think Karrie and Brett will have to work with the sound staff in the control room and I… I don’t know yet, if they let me in too I’ll just watch them like a useless idiot… which I am…”

“Control room? Wow, that sounds like a sci-fi, I can totally imagine the Star Trek characters there…” I deliberately ignore her low self-esteem-powered remark. “I’ve also seen in the previews that Sharon Stone would host the show, that’s an interesting combination…”

“Yep, Eric mentioned the creators wanted a funny scene or spot with her and the band but I don’t know if they can find a common ground. They only want to play music and aren’t interested in show business at all.”

“Maybe they want to gag with their physical appearance. Like, Sharon is tall and her legs are unrealistically long whereas Eddie is short so the screenwriters may figure out a joke about him being able to walk between her legs without bowing his head.” I guess as I start rummaging the photo heaps in front of me.

“Haha, you’re evil! You have no right to joke about Ed’s height, you’re a dwarf just like me…”

“But dwarf jokes are the best ones, you have to admit it. And… what are your plans until Saturday? Have you used the tape recorder yet?”

“Noooo…”

“You’re unbelievable, I’ve said you should…”

“…borrow a guitar, I know. Uhm, yesterday Jeff gave me a bass lesson, does that count?”

“Mmmmh, Jeff Ament?” I ask meaningfully. Since Judy joined the staff I played with the idea of them getting together, he seems to match her.

“No, Jeff Goldblum… of course Jeff Ament, who else? And he also let me ride his skateboard.”

“He let you ride his skateboard? That’s how you call it? It’s that a new slang or…” I cackle.

“Shut up, I meant it literally. No slang, no obscene details.” she cuts me off severely. So typical, usually she isn’t against sex related jokes but when actual guys around her come into play, she suddenly turns into a prude spinster.

“Okay, okay, I was just kidding. I’m just surprised, you haven’t mentioned yet you two spend time alone.” Actually I’m happy for these news, not only because I think they’d click but also because in the first ten minutes of our conversation she was cursing Stone Gossard. And even if only the half of what she claimed is true, I can’t blame her; the dude must be quite obnoxious. But still, she barely mentions anyone else from the band and I’m afraid if she goes on like this, these negative feelings will spoil her tour. “And how went the skateboarding? Did you collect a few bruises?”

“Haha, not yet. I didn’t try any tricks and I was probably quite clumsy but he kept encouraging me, he’s a nice guy. And ah, as for plans, he asked me whether I want to go to the photo exhibition of his friend in Boston. The guy invited them and Jeff asked me to join too.”

“That sounds great! And what kind of photos?”

“Photos of interesting graffiti. Jeff used to draw graffiti as well, did you know that? He told me a lot about himself but not in that annoying way when one is talking and talking and isn’t interested in the listener at all… this and the fact Eric defended me and they even gave me a cake… and that Jeff invited me with the bunch… make me feel they really accepted me as a member of the crew… and… oh, shit, I have to go, we have to set off for the show! Kisses for Mom and Granny!”

“Bye, take care of…” It’s needless to finish the sentence since she hung up in the meantime.

A few minutes later, I can hear the key turning in the lock and Mom literally falls in the apartment with her heavy shopping bags.

“You should have knocked, I would have helped you if you had asked me…” I shake my head and collect the apples and small cans which rolled everywhere on the ground.

“If I can give injection to Mrs. Mueller while she’s yelling at me calling me Gestapo’s slut, I can do everything…”

“Your foundation should employ octopuses, they are strong, can use their legs independently and are good listeners. And some of your clients wouldn’t even wonder if one crawled into their home…”

“That’s sure. I ask the opinion of my boss about it.” she settles to the table staring exhausted in front of herself.

“Anyway, you’ve just missed Judy’s call.”

“Damn… I wanted to hear her voice, I literally tossed Mrs. Muller into her bed to finish earlier…”

“Unfortunately you can’t see her either… I asked her about Saturday Night Live and we won’t see her in the show… But we still could watch it together, I would show you the guys and tell everything I’ve heard about them from her. We could make some popcorn and…”

“Oh, sweetie, haven’t I mentioned yet? I… I have to work…” she suddenly gets embarrassed.

“What? In the evening? On Saturday? By the time the show begins your clients are already sleeping the sleep of the just.” I complain.

“I know, but… there’s a former colleague from the hospital who works now in a nursing home. A few nurses quitted and I thought we could use the extra money so she recommended me to her boss as an occasional substitute nurse. And I begin on Saturday.”

Great. Since when have we concealed things like this from each other? I thought we could finally have a mother-daughter evening when she didn’t talk only about the insufferable old terrorists and didn’t pass out of exhaust right after dinner… she should finally relax and I need her company too, since Judy left I’ve felt like a lonely prisoner. And that’s more important than money, we don’t starve and if I got a few jobs I could contribute to our budget too, I wouldn’t be the cripple anymore who costs them a lot.

“And why didn’t you tell me that? Is it a secret or what?”

“Effie, honey, stop pouting, please. You can record it to me and we can watch it on Sunday. And I won’t even say a word if you stop it at every single shot, I’m going to listen to every single detail about these jam boys, I promise.”

“Mmmkay…” I mutter. I don’t like this patronizing voice, I’m not a toddler, I just want her to be honest with me.

“And what are you doing? Selecting pictures?”

“Yes… nothing particular…”

If she doesn’t tell me everything, why should I, right?

[lajulie24]

Tramps Like Us

For Han and Leia Appreciation Week 2018 - Day 4, Favorite Quotation. This one goes out to @otterandterrier who got this stuck in my head as a Scoundress song.

They were on the run, again. It was almost a constant these days, like no mission would be complete without including at least one mad dash for their lives.

As they rounded the corner, Han marveled a little at how well Leia could keep up, given the length of his legs compared to hers. And given that he’d been on the run nearly his entire life.

Leia slowed briefly to pick off two of the closest troopers—pew! pew!—then ramped up her pace again to catch up with Han.

His comm buzzed. “Little busy here, Kid,” he said to Luke. “We’re fine, just gotta lose some friends. Yeah, good idea. We’ll catch up.” He and Leia ducked down an alley, one Han hoped wouldn’t be another dead end.

He’d have to remind Luke to downplay this little detour when they got back to base. They’d only recently managed to spring Leia from the cage High Command had tried to keep her in after she’d refused to go into hiding, and hearing about yet another close brush with Imperial troops might inspire them to ground her again.

Which would be colossally stupid. Not only was Leia a hell of an asset in the field, but confining her to the supply closet again would just be a different kind of death sentence. Not that most of them could see that.

“Ha-ha!” Han exclaimed with relief. Not only was the alley free and clear, but there was an extra bonus waiting for them—an unattended speeder bike. Now they could really make up some time.

Hotwiring the starter was a quick job, and Han was about to tell Leia to hop on when he caught sight of the look she was giving the bike. It was almost—hungry.

“You know how to drive one of these?” he asked her, and the hungry look became a stone-faced glare directed at him.  He shook his head. “Stupid question. I’ll shoot,” he said, and he’d barely gotten on behind her when she took off.

Holy hells. She drives crazier than I do, he thought, as she snaked them through alleys, between buildings. “Hold on!” she yelled, taking another sharp curve. Han’s thighs were gripping the speeder for dear life, one hand around Leia’s waist and the other firing at the troopers following them.

Leia’s driving was like—Leia. The best of Leia. Bold, a little reckless, but with a surprising amount of strategy and control. Always a few steps ahead.

It was wild. They were wild, screaming through the boulevards on their way back to the ship, dodging blaster bolts and hearing the wind whip past them at every turn.

In between blasts, Han had somehow managed to get Luke on the comm.

“He made it to Chewie. They’re bringing the Falcon closer,” he yelled in Leia’s ear. “Other side of the—the hell?”

Leia saw it at the same time: looming straight ahead, a traveling fair with a small amusement park, crowded with beings. Both the perfect place to throw off their pursuers, and the worst possible place to lead a pack of Imperial troops.

She made a hard left, heard Han swear behind her but knew he was still holding on. They needed a hiding place, somewhere to stash the bike while they blended in among the fair-goers.

No question this situation was serious business, but Leia couldn’t help feeling a bit exhilarated at the chase. She’d felt wild, free, the speeder bike and the blaster like a part of her being, secure in the knowledge that Han was by her side—or in the present case, right behind her—at every turn.

“There,” he pointed out, like he’d anticipated what she was going to do next. She followed his gesture to a small bend off one of the alleys ahead and slowed the speeder to a stop.

“Hell of a royal drivin’ school they must’ve had,” Han said, and Leia recognized his tone well enough to take it as a compliment. She was examining her hair in the rearview mirror, tucking windblown strands back into her braids. “Hey, what’re you doin’? No time for primping.”

She appraised him quickly, recalling how he’d told her earlier that she was “too polished” to be believable as a fellow smuggler. “You need to get a little rougher,” he’d said. “Dirty.”

She flicked a sweaty piece of hair away from his temple. “You’re a little too rough to be my date for the fair,” she said. She licked her thumb and rubbed a bit of dirt off his cheek. “Need to clean up.”

He grinned at her. “C’mon.”

But Leia had a new idea. A disguise, of sorts. “Give me your vest,” she said, and when he did, she put it on over her own. She untucked his shirt, patting it a bit when she was done. “There. Now you’re messy with purpose.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Now can we go to the fair?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

It felt so strange to be strolling through the fair, Han’s arm draped around her shoulders, like they were a couple out on a date. So slow. Too slow. Something about running felt better, felt right.

She used to like lingering in a feeling, taking time to absorb where she was. Savoring it. But there was no savoring back at base, only time. Too much time to fend off the memories that plagued her brain. Too much time for the sadness that overflowed any container in which she tried to hold it.

Here, at least, it was safe to slow down. Han was her friend. He could protect her, she could protect him. And soon enough they’d be running again.

They passed the hoverwheel, the “Scrambler,” the fortune-telling booth. On the other side of the fair was the clearing where the Falcon was parked. Just a little ways to go, and then they’d be on their way back to base. Another successful mission.

She’d have to remind Luke not to make too much of their little escape.

Then she saw one of the agents pursuing them, and without thinking pulled Han into the closest hiding place she could find.

“Really playin’ it up, aren’t you?” he joked, and that’s when she realized she’d pulled him into the kissing booth.

She didn’t say anything, but directed him with her eyes and a nod to the space outside the booth. He got it, and nodded.

His breathing—both of their breathing—suddenly seemed impossibly loud. And Leia was now aware of how very close Han was to her. They were in each other’s air.

Voices outside the booth came closer, and Leia felt Han’s arm circle her waist, pulling her to him. His other hand, she knew, was at his blaster. She did the same. Pretending couplehood, preparing for battle.

The voices faded away. Either the agent had left, or he’d managed to set up a trap for them. Either way, there was only one thing to do. Han released her waist, his hazel eyes moving down to her face. “Ready?”

She nodded.

They burst out of the booth, blasters ready, tearing off through the rest of the fair, running again. It was madness, it was wild, it was real. It was, in a strange way, joy. They were out on a wire together, the clearing just ahead, the troopers behind them again as they broke away from the crowd.

But Leia no longer cared about the troopers, the danger. 

This is what I was born to do. What he was born to do. They were no longer running away, they were running to. To Luke and Chewie, to the Falcon, to the Rebellion, to each other. To freedom, to life. Baby, we’ll never go back.

Together we can live with the sadness I’ll love you with all the madness in my soul --Bruce Springsteen, “Born to Run”

[mona-rei-is-not-okay]

Heya. I'm the sibling asker ! H/s = honorary sibling. Hope you're doing fine

i love deep friendship gimme gimme

and there are NO MAYBES YOU WILL HAVE THE BONUS BOY ALWAYS especially with cute asks like these omg i love

i don’t know too much about MT!Paps though, so i’m sorry if my interpretation is a lil wonky. also h/s is teen, sorry if it isn’t apparent

UF!Sans: He’s really concerned about your low mood spell, but isn’t really sure what to do about it. As much as he relates to your apparent anxieties, he doesn’t know what to do to make you feel better. He’s not usually good at comforting words. What he will do is check in a lot. Make sure you’re generally doin okay and have everything you need. Again, if you need to vent, he’ll listen.

But he really doesn’t get why the cuddles make such a difference. Sure, he’s become a bit of a cuddlebug himself, but the way you completely relax like that? Unnatural. Especially since it’s the only thing that seems to be cheering you up. But then again, who is he to question what works? He won’t exactly cling to you from then on, but he’ll start following you around the house a bit more, snagging every cuddle opportunity. It’s still a little weird, but it’s a lot better than seeing his kid sibling all skittish. Eventually though, curiosity gets the better of him, and he just has to ask.

And your answer?

Congratulations, you have floored your big bro. Beet red in the face. Absolutely no composure. What did he do to deserve your trust?? Why are you so sweet?? Aaaaaah?!? He pets your head and tries not to let you hear his wheezing, but it’s obvious, he’s really moved and has no idea how to deal with it.

“h-heh… watch where yer aimin’ that sweetness, kiddo… i’m gettin’ a toothache… jeez…”

Anyway, was he tailing you before? Welp, now he’s become your guard dog. It doesn’t matter where you’re going, he’s comin’ with you.He’ll always be by your side, gently holding your arm and keeping his head on a swivel for shifty characters. If you ever need to navigate a crowd or a tight space, he’ll usher you behind him and get you to grab the fluff of his hood while he leads the way. He can’t exactly follow you to school, but he’ll shortcut to walk you between classes if you let him. Your teachers hate him. He’ll stop following you everywhere if you fend him off with a stick, but until your mood improves… well, he’s your personal escort now, deal with it

UF!Papyrus: He’s always wanted a little sibling. He loves helping people, and shows love through physical care.He’s a bit of a mother hen. It’s part of why he took in his cat, Doomfanger. To him, you are an absolute blessing.

So he’s already got some huge maternal instincts, but your mood has got him sent into overdrive. He’ll always be asking you if you need anything, fixing you comfort snacks, asking if you need help with homework, doing a chore or cleaning a room so you don’t have to. It might feel naggy or get a little overwhelming, and he’ll dial it back if you tell him to, but his first instinct will always be to take care of possible stress sources directly. It helps him feel better, too.

So when you settle down to cuddle and just… completely deflate, he asks about it immediately. He must know. He must help.

And when you answer…

His face is deep maroon. If anybody else had said that, he would have dismissed it. But coming from you? Wowie. He feels like he’s succeeded as a caretaker. He’s about ready to squeal with joy, but he contains himself. Smiling from ear to nonexistent ear, he loops an arm behind you and pulls you closer. He tries to mask his joy with a confident air, but the grin betrays him.

“WELL! THAT’S… PERFECTLY NATURAL!! AS THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS HAS TAKEN YOU UNDER HIS PROTECTION!!!”

From then on, every time he starts an activity or chore, you’re invited. Help him put away groceries! Help him do laundry! Help him cook! Also, if you accompany him on errands, hand-holding is required.

“I HAVE TO KEEP TRACK OF YOU SOMEHOW! STOP GIGGLING!”

He just wants to make sure you feel safe. Even if it means walking you to and from school, fixing you lunches with positive sticky notes in the bag, and taking you with him everywhere he goes. It’s not cute!

MT!Sans: He’s not around as much as either of you would like, but he knows you’re feeling down. He remembers seeing his brother with such a similar look on his face. Young fool that Sans was, he started taking him with on small jobs to keep him company. And now Pappy deals in some of the same dirty business he does. He’s promised himself not to make the same mistake with you.

He does his best to help you take it in stride while he’s around, but he knows there’s only so much he can do. He feels a twinge of guilt every time he has to leave you in that state. He knows it probably doesn’t have much to do with him, but he feels responsible. Maybe if he were around more, or even just in a safer profession, you wouldn’t seem so worried all the time.

Cuddles are solace for both of you. He gets to relax and feel like he’s doing something, and you don’t seem half as rigid. Smiles all around! He already sort of knows why you relax so easily in his arms, or thinks he does, but he feels he should still make sure.

And…

Well, he didn’t know what he was expecting, but he can’t keep his grin from widening a touch. You’re the light of his life, you know that? Honestly, what did he do to deserve you? But the guilt sets back in. No wonder you’ve been feeling down… he’s been particularly busy lately, and he really should make more time for you. And if you didn’t normally feel safe, whose fault is that? Well… nobody feels safe in this part of town.

“well…” He’ll plant a small kiss on the top of your head. “take it easy, kiddo. i promise, someday, we’ll all get the hell outta here.”

He’ll get somebody to watch the house while he’s gone. He knows he can’t be there all the time, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t know you aren’t safe. He’ll call you more often to check in, too. Also… he’ll start putting a little extra away, start saving for a little vacation. Maybe some time out of town will do all of you some good. You’re family, and he’ll take care of you no matter the risk or cost.

MT!Papyrus: He’s around more than Sans is, thankfully. He sticks around to fix you meals and offer cuddles and make sure the house is safe. It’s given him plenty of time to notice one of his favorite siblings’ low mood.

He does his best to help out in indirect ways, checking the house for wires and cameras and sweeping the perimeter every so often. He knows this helps with his brother sometimes, when he gets paranoid. But he isn’t sure that’s your problem. He feels a little lost, but is upbeat as ever. He has to set a good example after all.

He most likely won’t ask about the cuddles for a while. He’s more concerned with what more he can do to make you comfortable, and if this works, it works. Besides- openly nosy folk are seldom rewarded in his line of business. Eventually though, he’ll push back the instinct. He trusts you, and this could make a lot of difference in helping you cheer up.

And when you tell him…

He’s beaming at you with such genuine joy, he looks like he might just start crying. Just… wowie! He doesn’t really understand why you’d feel that way, he’s only decent in crisis situations, but the fact that you really trust him that much? Well, it’s not something he gets a lot of. He must be doing something right if you feel this way.

He’ll rest his chin on your head and give you a hearty squeeze. “WELL! I SUPPOSE!! YOU’LL JUST HAVE TO STAY IN THIS HUG!!! FOREVER!!!!”

He won’t move for a while, get used to him, he lives there now. From then on, he’ll start taking every opportunity to come home early and see you. He’ll ask you to cook with him, he’ll ask you to read to him, he’d even try to sneak you with him on jobs if Sans didn’t always seem to stop you. He tries to be around the house more in general, he wants his little sibling to know that he’s always around if you need him.

HT!Sans: He understands your mood all too well. He’s been through plenty of periods of fear and depressive episodes in his day, and he knows how it feels. Sometime he feels like the only way he can perceive the world is either through an all-consuming fog or with painful knife-point precision. But it’s hard for him to think back to what he wanted during more desperate times. Food? Safety? He’s pretty sure you’ve got those covered already. Maybe your head just acts up a little sometimes, like his.

He’ll make sure you have everything you need, regardless. You hungry? Tired? He’ll take care of it, just you relax. If you need to talk, he may not understand or remember everything you say, but he’ll do his best to offer comfort.

It doesn’t quite register how much you relax when you cuddle him, not for a while. He can be a little slow sometimes. He’ll get it eventually though, and he’ll ask about it. This seems important, had he asked before?

And what you tell him…

It almost brings a tear to his eye. He may have a trauma-induced forgetful streak, but he remembers a lot of things. He remembers a lot of nasty, horrible things. He remembers the taste of human flesh. He remembers the strain of keeping his guard up at all times. He remembers watching his brother slip away.

But you? You’ve been his second chance. You gave him the opportunity to make things right with himself. A sibling he didn’t have to fail. He most definitely felt he didn’t deserve you or your trust... after all, he had eaten people like you without a second thought. But you gave your trust just as freely. 

“heh…” He ruffles your hair. “hope that works out for ya.”

He’ll do his best to be available for cuddles (not that he has much to keep him away) and he’ll try to take you with him if he has to go somewhere. He always makes an effort to ask about your day, if anything bad happened, if anything good happened. He doesn’t feel like he can do much, but he’ll do what he can to make things easier on you.

[alltheloveinthegalaxy]

Reylo fanfiction prompt for you! Rey finds out she's pregnant from the forcebond hand-hold. Bonus points if you have her telling Ben ;-)

Cosmic Conundrum

pt. 1

Several weeks after the battle of Crait, Rey finds herself in a strange predicament. She feels more unbalanced than she ever has — bending over a toilet seat in the Millennium Falcon. Between dry heaving on an empty stomach and vomiting her weight — she can’t seem to figure out what is causing her early morning queasiness.

She’d assumed it was a stomach bug and nothing more. But the fact that no one seemed to inherit this seemingly contagious illness in such close quarters with Chewie, Finn, Rose or Poe. It seemed odd.

She began to worry that something far more sinister was at play. Perhaps all of those years of worry and desperation in the hot and polluted desert air had earned her some type of fatal illness.

Finally, out of sheer pressure from the rest of the Resistance — she was seen by a medical droid in the base.

“Positive,” the droid says, mechanically.

“What?” Rey asks, exhausted and slumping. “What’s positive? What do I have?”

“You’re carrying a child,” the droid beeps. “Your test was positive.”

Rey raises an eyebrow.

“What? That’s not possible.” She snickers to herself.

“You are indeed pregnant,” the med droid repeats.

“That must be a mistake…I’ve never…” she trails off.

Just then, General Leia Organa-Solo enters the small, cold room.

“Ahem,” She announces herself. “May I have a word?” She asks Rey, dismissing the droid from the room.

The young scavenger is sitting on a stiff and uncomfortable hospital bed, looking frazzled.

“Rey,” Leia takes a seat in a chair and places her hand over the young woman’s.

“It’s impossible,” Rey says, shaking her head.

“Actually, it is possible,” Leia looks at her sympathetically. Rey looks puzzled and taken aback.

“No you don’t understand,” She starts. “I- I’m a…I haven’t ever….well you see…I’m a virgin.” Rey blushes, averting Leia’s eyes. Certainly she’d believe her, right?

“I know,” Leia sighs. “I’ve known that you were carrying a child for quite some time…I was in shock myself and I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. I suppose I wanted to wait and see that technology could detect what I’ve sensed in the Force for weeks now…”

Rey pulls her hands away from Leia, horrified. Suddenly, it all made sense — sort of. She had sensed something within her for over a month now but she’d dismissed it as another new feeling in the Force she was yet to understand.

Everything was still so new to her. But this, this was something else.

“I…” she shakes her head in disbelief, placing a hand over her belly. She gasps when she senses a faint but very real spark of life within her Force signature.

“How could this have happened?” Rey’s eyes are welling up with tears.

“Legend has it that my father, Anakin Skywalker was born, a creation of the Cosmic Force… my grandmother Shmi was also a virgin when she was impregnated with my father.” Leia explained, looking Rey in the eyes.

“But how could something like this have happened to me?” Rey was sobbing now.

Both women are silent for a moment when a revelation passes through Rey.

Her mind pulls her from the present moment and she can see him. She remembers the way his fingers dragged across hers and the way his touch felt like touching a live wire the middle of a wrecked starship.

Ben Solo, the man she loved, in secrecy had touched only her hand in that moment but he had inadvertently done so much more than either of them could have ever imagined.

The Force worked in mysterious and fortuitous ways that no one would ever really understand. For whatever reason, the Cosmic Force had impregnated Rey of Jakku with Ben Solo’s child.

Leia fought the urge to cry. This was never the way she thought her life was going to end up. It goes without saying, that they are both aware of how this happened, words are not necessary.

The general embraces Rey as warmly as she can. Nothing could have prepared either of them for this shocking turn of events. Rey sobs violently into her shoulder. Her mind is racing.

What am I going to do now? How will I tell him? Should I tell him? Will he sense it before I can reach him? Will this lure him back to the light?

Four Months Later

“Supreme Leader,” General Hux bows half heartedly as he regards the tall, cloaked man in front of him who is keeping watch over mechanics as they work on TIE fighters on The Finalizer.

“We have the prisoner on board, the girl you’ve been looking for,” Hux looks disgusted, as if he doesn’t think the matter is important. “The girl who supposedly murdered the Supreme— ahem, Snoke.”

“I know,” Kylo Ren says impassively, hands clasped behind his back. “Bring her in. I want her unharmed.”

“Yes, Supreme Leader. You have made that clear,” Hux rolls his eyes before turning on his heel to exit the room. But Ren doesn’t care enough to punish him for his attitude.  

On the outside, he appears to be calm and collected. His hair isn’t as unkempt as it usually is and his face is as clear as porcelain.

But on the inside, he feels as if a thousand tiny needles were poking his chest. His heart was pounding. His stomach felt uneasy and sick.

He has not seen Rey of Jakku in the flesh since the day he murdered his master for her. Although they had kept an unstable connection in the Force, they’d mostly done their best to ignore each other — acknowledging that neither party was willing to concede.

When she’s finally brought in by two stormtroopers, Kylo Ren’s stone cold expression melts to a softer one as Ben Solo begins to show through.

He waves the guards away. After the door is closed, he releases her restraints with a wave of his gloved hand. They fall to the floor, clanking loudly.

She stands very still for a moment, wearing a forest green cloak that drapes over her body, only exposing her ankles and brown boots. She looks up at him, a towering figure compared to her stature.

“I’m assuming you have some sort of motive for coming here today…” Ben says, crossing his arms. “Did you come to surrender? Or have you come to try to sway me back to the puny Resistance again?”

“Neither,” she says seriously. Her chest is tight with anxiety. She’d hoped that he would sense the growing child in her womb, so that she didn’t actually have to vocalize it. But alas, he hadn’t.

“Do you have a death wish then?” He asks, circling her. “It was very dangerous for you to enter our radar field. You could have been shot down without a second thought.”

“Well I wasn’t,” Rey snaps, crossing her arms.

“You’re lucky I sensed your presence,” he reasons. “So why are you here, Rey?”

She pauses for a long moment, staring intently into his dark eyes.

She moves to unbutton her cloak, keeping her eyes on him. Ben Solo almost blushes, confused as to why she’s unbuttoning it.

She let’s the cloak slide off of her shoulders, but she keeps it wrapped around her arms, covering her body. She shivers nervously and bites her lip, still keeping her eyes locked on him.

Ben is confused but simply watches her.

Finally, she lets the cloak slide off of her completely. She’s wearing her usual grey tunic and at first, Ben doesn’t notice anything remarkable — until his eyes stumble over the very obvious swell of her belly.

She’s pregnant.

His jaw falls open as he begins to lose his breath. He’s hurting now. The feeling hit him like a dozen daggers, stabbing into his chest.

How could she flaunt this in front of him? Another man’s child. Surely she must have known he was in love with her. He wants to cry, he wants to break things, he wants to destroy her, he wants to kiss her.

Rey begins to cry. Tears streak her face as she places her hands on her belly and takes a careful step to close the gap between them.

“Ben,” she finally speaks. “She’s yours.”

TO BE CONTINUED