#drabble: next gen

[bobfloydsbabe]

motion sickness: next gen || kids of top gun

Rating: G

Summary: The kids of our favorite aviators take on high school. Jamie Lane-Seresin has a crush on Marcus Fitch. Dalia Garcia-Alvarez may have just gotten the two to go on a date, and poor David Floyd has no idea what's going on.

Motion Sickness is the shared universe featuring Jas Lane (Turning Tables) and @joaquinwhorres' Caro and Dalia Alvarez (Tailspin). This is a next generation fic in this universe.

Warning(s): Dalia being a menace, Jamie being done with her shit, confused David. A wild Jas appears.

Word count: ~2.0k

A/N: This fic is a gift for Anna (@joaquinwhorres) who is celebrating her half birthday tomorrow! I couldn't wait, so it's a day early. There is nothing I enjoy more than expanding this universe with you, so I present to you a little next gen fic for your reading pleasure that no one else will probably read. I appreciate you and your friendship more than you know. Enjoy, friends!

Likes are nice, but comments and reblogs are golden.

Dalia poked her side. “Look who just walked in.”

Jamie raised her head from her sketchbook to the entrance to the cafeteria, where Marcus Fitch sauntered in with the rest of the football team in tow.

It was like a scene out of the movies Jas and Caro always insisted they watch on sleepovers. Marcus moved in slow motion as he laughed over his shoulder at something his friend at said that probably wasn’t even that funny. Jamie swore there was even the faint sound of swelling music coming from somewhere.

Jamie tore her eyes away, looking at Dalia, whose smug smirk reminded her so much of Caro. They really were the spitting image of each other. 

“The football team?” Jamie said, shrugging, trying to play it cool. It’s what Jas would have done.

Dalia hummed, but Jamie didn’t love the devious grin on her friend’s face.

“Don’t–“

Dalia opened her mouth and shouted across the expanse of the cafeteria. “Marcus!”

Not only did the older boy’s head whip up, but so did the heads of nearly every kid in the room, as Dalia waved her hand wildly in the air, almost smacking Jamie’s temple in the process.

Marcus said something to his friends before weaving in and out of tables and bodies to make it to them. Jamie begged for the ground to swallow her whole at the sheer embarrassment of being looked at by everyone.

Dalia’s hand landed back on the tabletop unceremoniously. Jamie cursed under her breath.

“Hey, guys,” Marcus greeted, offering them a wide and confident smile that made Jamie’s insides feel funny. She muttered a hello, dreading whatever Dalia would say next.

“Jamie has an art show tomorrow,” she said, looking the picture of innocence, but Jamie scowled.

“You do?”

She raised her eyes to meet Marcus’ warm brown ones. “It’s not my art show,” she clarified. “It’s for Art Club. David is showing, too.”

At the sound of his name, he looked over his shoulder at his friends who were beckoning him to join them again. He looked back at his childhood friends, and Jamie felt smaller, acutely aware that Marcus was older and significantly cooler. “I’ll be there.”

Jamie frowned. “You don’t have to do that,” she said, shaking her head. 

The broad smile Marcus offered her made her heart pound and her palms sticky. “I want to,” he assured her and wandered back to the football team at the far end of the cafeteria.

Dalia’s grin was smug and self-satisfied. “I just got you a date.”

“It’s not a date,” Jamie argued. “Coming to an art club art show after school is not a date.”

“It’s definitely a date.”

Jamie groaned. “You’re insufferable.”

Dalia grinned and waved at David, who was making his way through the crowd, holding on to his backpack and lunch tray for dear life. “You love me.”

“Debatable.”

David slumped into the seat opposite Jamie and Dalia. “What’s debatable?”

“Whether I love Dalia,” Jamie said, sliding her chemistry notebook across the table to David so they could compare results of their latest lab.

“You do,” he said matter-of-factly.

A smug smile crept back on Dalia’s face. “See? David knows.”

“David is also failing chemistry.”

He frowned, opening Jamie’s notebook. “I’m not,” he reminded them. “I’m in AP Chem.”

“You can be in AP Chem and still fail.”

“But I’m not.”

“You sound more like Jas every day,” Dalia interrupted, cutting off their arguing. It wasn’t a new thing that Jamie and David argued over classes and test scores, and though there was never any malice to it, she knew it was irritating to listen to sometimes.

Jamie would have argued with Dalia if she wasn’t right. When she’d first been in foster care with her parents, Jamie had taken to Jake the fastest. They’d bonded over sports. He’d been patient with her, and he’d learned to do her hair. Jamie rarely let anyone touch her hair. The older Jamie got, the more she had picked up Jas’ mannerisms.

She had grown into herself with these people. She was just eight when she met them, but Dalia had decided they were best friends from the jump, and they’d spent countless nights at Caro’s place when Jake and Mickey were deployed. 

Their parents were all friends, but they felt more like family. A family Jamie never thought she would have, but Jake and Jas had opened their life to her. They had always treated Jamie like their own, even before they adopted her.

“Why were you debating if you love Dalia or not, anyway?”

“She’s insufferable,” Jamie said at the same time as Dalia mentioned the Marcus Debacle.

“Marcus is coming to the show?”

Dalia nodded furiously, beaming with pride. “All I had to do was mention Jamie, and he said he’d come.”

“That’s not true,” Jamie said with an incredulous look at her best friend before explaining what had actually transpired.

“It’s a date,” Dalia announced when Jamie had finished relaying the information.

David’s brows furrowed, and he delayed his answer by sipping his water bottle. “Marcus coming to the art show is a date? For who?”

“Jamie, of course,” Dalia answered, sounding like she thought he was dumb for not picking up on that very obvious conclusion.

David frowned. Jamie could practically see the wheels turning inside his brain as he tried to figure out how Dalia had gotten there. By the looks of it, he was having little luck.

“It’s an art club show after school,” David said slowly. Jamie saw a hint of Bob in his brows and mouth when he frowned again. “That doesn’t seem like a date.”

“Thank you,” Jamie exclaimed triumphantly, slamming her palm down on her sketch book, smearing the piece she was working on. She cursed under her breath before closing the book.

“He does like you, though,” David said nonchalantly, looking down at Jamie’s notes from AP Chem, not realizing his mistake until it was too late.

Dalia eyed him suspiciously. “You know something,” she said and pointed to him.

“I have eyes,” he said and shrugged for good measure. His mom hated when he shrugged.

Jamie looked between her friends, not understanding the silent conversation they tried to have through glances alone. 

“We will talk about this later,” Dalia said to David, sounding more like a threat than a suggestion. It was during moments like those where there was no doubt Dalia was Caro’s daughter.

Dalia turned her attention back to Jamie. “You’ve been in love with him since we were twelve. Is it so bad to just call it a date even if he doesn’t know it?”

Jamie groaned, a habit she had undoubtedly picked up from Jas over the years, and slammed her head against her arm resting on the closed sketchbook.

“You’re insufferable,” she murmured into the crook of her arm.

Jamie didn’t have to look at Dalia to know she was grinning triumphantly.

Caro picked them up from school that afternoon because Marcus had a late football practice, and couldn’t take them like he normally did. Jamie waved at the car over her shoulder, walking up the driveway to her front door. 

Jas and Jake had done a lot of work on the house after they moved in together. Mostly Jake. Jas had been tasked with painting the porch and barely managed that, getting paint all over herself, the grass, and the neighbor’s cat.

Jamie loved that story.

She let herself into the house, knowing Jas would be up and getting ready for the night shift. “Mom?”

“In here,” Jas spoke from the kitchen.

She dropped her backpack on the bench in the entryway and rounded the corner to the kitchen where Jas was preparing tea for Jamie and coffee for herself.

She was in scrubs, her hair tied into a tight bun that closely resembled the one she’d been forced to wear in the Navy. She slid the mug across the counter towards Jamie, who sat on one of the tall bar stools.

“How was school?”

Jamie shrugged. “It was alright,” she said, sipping her tea. “I think Mr. Simmons is planning a pop quiz for AP Chem. I compared notes with David at lunch.”

Jas offered Jamie a spoon to stir her tea with, which she accepted. “You feel okay about it?”

“Yeah,” she said, swirling the spoon around the tea, filling the air with the scent of chamomile.

“I wanted to talk to you about tomorrow,” Jas said and mirrored Jamie’s sip of her mug. “I managed to change shifts with someone, so I can come to your art show. I’m not sure if Jake can make it, so you’ll have to ask him when he gets home, but he wants to be there.”

Jamie smiled. Jas and Jake were practical people, and when she made the track team, she wasn’t surprised when they came to every race and tournament, but their support of her interest in art? That was a shock.

“Got any surgeries planned today?”

“Nothing scheduled,” Jas replied, taking another sip. “But emergency medicine is unpredictable, so who knows?”

“It’s like you then.”

Jas paused, the mug halfway to her mouth, and stared at Jamie.

“I know you did not just call me unpredictable,” Jas said in mock outrage, putting her coffee back on the counter and placing her hand over her chest.

“Didn’t you string dad along for weeks when you first met?”

Jas snorted. “He loved it, and if he ever tells you otherwise, he’s lying.”

Jamie chuckled, letting her eyes glide around the room at the pictures and memories scattered around the kitchen and living room. Besides a picture from their wedding that Jamie had recreated in Art Club for the show, her favorite was a picture Caro had snapped on the day Jas and Jake got together officially.

They were at the bar they all still went to. The Hard Deck. The picture was taken from the back with Jas and Jake resting their elbows on the bar top while Penny was getting them drinks. They were looking at each other, foreheads almost touching, and grinning widely like little kids. Jake liked to say that night was the first time he ever saw Jas truly relax in his presence.

“He liked it,” Jamie agreed. “You were still unpredictable, though.”

Jas chuckled. “I guess so.”

They spent the next ten minutes talking about school and homework, about the upcoming holiday season and whether they were going to Texas to stay with Jake’s parents or San Francisco to stay with Jas’ moms.

Jas checked her watch again. “I have to get going,” she said and swallowed the last bit of coffee, placing the mug in the sink. “Would you mind emptying the dishwasher? You know how your dad gets.”

“Of course,” Jamie agreed.

Jas came around the kitchen island and kissed Jamie’s temple. “Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow for your art show, okay?”

“Okay,” Jamie answered as the corners of her mouth ticked upwards, watching Jas throw her phone and wallet into her bag. Jamie leaned back in her seat so she could see the front door around the corner. 

“Drive safe,” Jamie yelled when Jas took her car key from the bowl by the front door.

“Yeah yeah,” Jas shouted back, probably rolling her eyes at the fact that even her daughter knew she was a terrible driver.

As the door slammed, Jamie’s phone pinged in her pocket with a text from Jake, letting her know he would be able to come to her art show tomorrow and did she want pizza for dinner.

She answered the man she considered her father that she did want pizza and asked if she could invite Dalia to join them.

❋❋❋

taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @arrthurpendragon, @ocappreciationtag, @chrissymunson, @cas-verse, @chickensarentcheap, @asirensrage, @misskatiewrites, @stanshollaand, @eddiemunscns, @raith-way, @wordspin-shares, @veetlegeuse

top gun taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @joaquinwhorres, @fantasias-creativebubble, @lostinwonderland314, @luckyladycreator2, @blue-aconite, @dempy, @alana4610, @littlebadariell, @cherrycola27, @whisperofsong, @another-tblr-fangirl, @flashyourgreeneyesatme, @seymour-cant-read, @wordspin-shares

[throneofsapphics]

can i req a little drabble with nyx? i imagine nyx to be a bit like feyre but also being on the more broody side. perhaps where reader gets the “meeting the family” dinner with the IC and shes like a ball pf sunshine, complete opposite to nyx?

ambushes and invitations

Nyx x Reader

Summary: Told it's finally time, Nyx takes you to meet his family.

Warnings: none

A/N: thank you for the request! I love grumpy sunshine so much. 

“I’m excited,” you insisted - almost bouncing on your toes as you walked together. 

“You really shouldn’t be,” he grumbled, hand shooting out to grab yours. He pulled you in close - a bit too abruptly, and you stumbled over your feet, a laugh echoing from your chest as you slammed into him, his arm wrapping around your waist to hold you steady. Nyx’s mouth indented at one corner, eyes shining as he glanced down at you. Pausing, he licked his thumb, brushing against your jawline, a tinge of blue appearing on his finger. A spot of paint from earlier. Letting go of your waist, he kept his hold on your hand and your feet carried you down the path, footsteps light on the cobblestone. You’d insisted on walking - giving you time to wrap your mind around what the evening would look like. 

He’d ambushed you at your home, where you were in the middle of trying to paint a gift, and ‘invited’ you to a family dinner. You couldn’t refuse, and the limited timeframe gave you less time for a ball of nerves to build. It wasn’t wholly effective. Truth be told, you were somewhat nervous. His family was intimidating to say the least, but you’d grown up around what you considered were intimidating people, and this was another dinner - at least you told yourself that.

The next time you tripped - a loose rock, not your fault, Nyx covered it - bringing your arm above your head and spinning you.

“Are you nervous?” You asked, as you drew closer to your destination. 

“Me?” His eyes rolled. “Never, darling.” 

Your eyes lit up in amusement. “Never? Because I remember very clearly the one time -” 

A pinch to your side cut off your words, and you realized you were within hearing distance of two winged figures. You’d been distracted looking up at Nyx, and a light blush covered your cheeks. 

“Don’t stop on our accord,” one of the males - Cassian, you recognized, said. 

You grinned. “Once, we were-” 

Nyx’s hand clapped over your mouth, muffling your words. 

Both were friendly, even though you had the keen awareness your every move and expression was being monitored. That’s fine by you, there was nothing you felt the need to hide. 

They all introduced themselves, but you already knew exactly who they were. Rhys, your High Lord insisted you call him Rhys, same with your High Lady. Nyx spoke of them so freely, a few complaints littered here and there, but actually meeting them as his parents was different. Sure, you’d seen both of them in Velaris at one point or another, but this was a completely different context. Maybe in your mind you’d created a different persona for them - Nyx’s parents. Either way, the two versions from your mind had no choice but to meld now. 

“What do you do for work?” Feyre asked. This was a subject you could speak on for ages.

“I’m a teacher, for toddlers.” The spot of glitter on your wrist caught the light at the perfect time. 

“Do you like it?” Her head tilted. 

“I absolutely love it,” you replied and lulled into an easy conversation, some of your nerves fading. 

Back and forth, questions bounced across the table - about nearly every subject, and you fielded all of them the best you could. Nyx seemed to glare at anyone who asked things a bit too personal or touchy. 

-

“How’d someone like you end up with this broody asshole?” His uncle didn’t even wince as Nyx kicked him in the shin. Hopefully hard enough to leave a bruise. 

“That’s what I want to know,” Mor said - glancing between the two of you.

Nyx cut in before you could answer. “Easy, I won her over.” 

“Easy?” You raised your brows, amusement in your eyes. 

“Not exactly.” 

Your eyes seemed to say; good save. 

Gods, he remembers the weeks he spent ‘chasing’ you, and trying to get the point across that he liked you as more than a friend. You were a ball of pure light and joy, bright enough to make him seem like a dark and stormy cloud, and he loved you for it. His little ball of sunshine, although everyone else was stealing your attention right now. 

You’d been seeing each other for a few months when his parents finally put their foot down and insisted on meeting you. Everything was a bit last minute, and he felt a tad guilty for ‘inviting’ you with less than an hour, but it was a casual affair, and you were in good spirits about it - nearly exploding out of your skin the entire way here. 

So far, it seemed to be going well. You were sitting directly next to Mor, and the two of you were making easy conversation. 

Cassian caught his eye, an amused look on his face. 

What is it? Nyx slipped into his mind. 

She’s nice. Talkative. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Seems like she’s good for you. 

Nyx brought himself back into the present, aware of your conversation starting to dwindle next to him. He found you looking at him with a curious expression, but a tinge of worry in your eyes, grabbing your hand under the table, he gave you what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze. 

“Do you have any Solstice plans?” His mother asked, a gleam in her eyes. That’s all it took for him to know she was absolutely smitten with you, but he still fought a wince at her direct question - he knew you didn’t, and if this went well he’d already planned on inviting you.  

“I don’t,” your words were softer than normal - maybe a bit unsure. Nyx squeezed your hand again, hoping he wasn’t crushing your fingers. 

“Perfect,” she clapped her hands together. “Join us.” 

“If you want to,” he added, meeting your eyes. 

Really? 

She wouldn’t have offered otherwise. 

The mental equivalent of an eye roll came through before you beamed at her and agreed. 

-

Nyx flew you home, refusing to let you walk on your own and in the dark. You chose not to argue with him this time. Besides, you liked seeing the city from above, all of the glittering lights, and especially in his arms. 

“You,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, closing your door behind him with his foot.

“Me?” 

One arm wrapped around your waist, tugging you in close. “You are wonderful.” 

Your words were muffled, face pressed against him, “where’s this coming from?” 

He loosened his arms just enough for you to look up at him. “You survived them.” 

Lips turning up at the corners, you poked his chest. “Survived?” 

“You know what I mean,” he sighed.

“Sure,” you tucked yourself back into him. 

“First, I would love to have you there,” he prefaced, hand running down your hair - and your heart jumped. “But you don’t have to come to Solstice if you don’t want to, or if it’s too soon.” 

“That might be the most words I’ve heard you say in a row.” 

He pinched your side before continuing, “I know she put you on the spot.” 

You slid one hand up to rest on his chest - just above his thundering heart. “I would love,” you repeated his words, “to be there.” 

“Thank the gods,” he breathed, pulling you close again.

[starlitsilvereyes]

I love it when other characters refer to James Sirius Potter as ‘Jamie’. Like his name is great and all and literally a ship name for your bi dad and gay godfather, Harry 🙄 but Jamie gives James Sirius an identity outside of being named after Harry’s parental figures; outside of the shadow of the saviour's son and his quidditch captain mum.

James Sirius has his father’s eyes and hair but has his mother’s freckles. Jamie has dyed his hair blue highlights and got an eyebrow piercing from a muggle piercing shop. Jamie likes art and music more than he likes quidditch. Jamie wants to be a musician but not like Celestina Warbeck, more like Mick Jagger from The Rolling Stones. Jamie prefers e-cigarettes rather than traditional ones, despite Teddy telling him it woud rarely make a difference when you’re burning your lungs away.

James Sirius gave Teddy handpicked flowers from Molly’s garden when they were small children. But Jamie gives Teddy a handmade onyx ring set on platinum.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Jamie says. “I’m not proposing yet.”

Teddy laughs, hair turning fuchsia to match the flush on his cheeks. “Love you too, Jamie.”

[alanshee-keeper-of-realms]

Drabbles of how I would handle Evil Mickey in a universe like the Chip and Dale Universe

Authors Notes: Cameos of OC kiddos are also here, but they add a bit of a kick needed to spice things up, Goofy may be OOC due to how he's treating Max. But I figure if he can be the nice guy, he'd also be the ass kisser who does everything Mickey says, even when it comes to his own kid,

Again these are drabbles of me messing around with the idea,

.

.

He eyed Donald, taking a drag of his cigarette, this was a challenge, fine if the duck wanted to play he'd do the same,

“I mean, I was the one to first show you love.” He said slowly, the duck looking down, bingo the achilles heel”You're just not my type. That's the unfortunate nature of Love, besides you have Jose and Panchito now, and I have Minerva. So we both don't want this to end up....messy. Behave or else I will make this very messy,

Donald nodded straightening, as Mickey sighed taking another drag before letting smoke roll out as he questioned,

“You said you had something important to tell me?”

“ Goofy's son-”

An eyebrow raised as the toon tapped the cigarette on the ashtray,

"Oh that one? The one that has been snooping around Yakko Warner, getting cozy with him and his siblings,” he tossed down a folder full of photographs and notes,”They aren't subtle, my private mice investigators sniffed them out almost immediately... you know how we feel about crossing”

The duck toon swallowed, as the mouse shrugged,

“He can keep his little tryst if he wants, but he is no longer a Disney if he wants anything further if he wants to be a Warner he'll be a Warner. Isn't that right Goofy?”

The mouse looked over his shoulder to the said Dog toon who was working the accounting books. He nodded, averting his eyes as he answered,

“I only apologize that I did not teach him better. You know I've taught him that Crossing is forbidden,”

Donald rolled his eyes muttering,

"But you may want to hurry. He's already crossed a line that you would infuriate you.”

The mouse's eyes gleamed, a simmering malice hidden behind a false smile, Goofy also rumbled out in a dangerously low voice,

“What did he do?”

The duck produced a sheet of paper, setting it down and sliding it over,

“I snagged this off of his phone sir,”

The mouse scooped it up, reading the messenges,his hand slowly fisting crumpling the paper before he shoved it at Goofy,

“Get Iger now. Max is no longer welcome at our company. Stupid brat," he side eyed the dog toon," I told you and Marcy that you should have kept trying. There's always been something wrong about that boy, unfortunately,”

Goof looked disappointed at the paper, as Donald left the room to grab the human CEO, as Mickey growled,

“Disney must stay pure, Disney Toons with Disney toons. I don't care if your LGBTQ or not, it must be Disney though. I am happy for Donald and his family. He may have not chose Daisy but at least he chose Panchito and Jose who are Disney's, Max has stepped out of line.”

Goofy again nodded as Bob and Donald walked in,

“Donald says we have a Mainstay out of line?”

The father handed the human the paper as Mickey slid the photos across his desk, Iger sighing as he looked through it in annoyance, saying

“I'll get a hold of the Warner CEOs,”

Mickey only eyed him as the human left his office,

“I do believe, though, your son has a question for me, however. Maybe he will have good news,” he pressed a button as he lit another cigarette, putting it in his mouth as he pulled the folder towards himself. He stood up, going to a filing cabinet tucking it away. As Camilo walked in, he smiled,

“Ah Camilo my boy, please do tell me you bring this Mouse good news,”

The rooster hybrid bowed his head as the Mouse walked to his desk and sat down,

“Depending on how you react to my question. I knew I must ask your permission Tio Mickey,” he pulled out a box it was a beautiful blue velvet, Mickey eyed it”I would love to ask your Daughter for her hand sir,”

Donald swallowed, but a bright smile crossed the mouses face

“Of course I give my blessing Camilo! You are the jewel of my Princesses eye, thank you Donald for raising him properly. May I see the ring?”

Camilo nodded returning the smile and opened it,

“Only the best for Marian, a Fire Opal from a Mexican Mine surrounded by 2 5 carat blue diamonds,”

Mickey eyed it with a smile, oh it would do very nicely for his princess,

“Stunning, it must have cost you.”

“Money's nothing when it comes to your baby girl,”

Mickey grinned, tossing him a cigar,

“And that's why I welcome you to our Family, those were imported from Cuba.”

Donald's eyes reflected relief, that was practically a your my son now from the mouse, Camilo smoothly caught the cigar and tucked it into his coat pocket,

“May I request sir, I need the assistance of the Parks for the idea of the proposal.”

“Tell me son, what is your plan.”

Marian grinned as she waved to her adoring crowd as she slipped between them heading for the backstage area where Camilo met her, they shared a kiss joining hands as they headed for the break room,

“ are you doing okay sweetheart, is your leg bothering you?” He questioned seeing her limp a bit as they walked,

“Yeah, it's bugging me. But I'm not the only one that deals with it,” She answered as they entered she chose a seat against the back wall” especially our wonderful cast members,”They all gave her smiles which she returned,

The mouse reached down and popped off her leg carefully rolling off the liner and rubbing the stump, Camilo handing her a towel, reaching into her bag grabbing a salve she used and then the powder,

“So you ready for the kick off of the Holidays tonight?”

Marian had a smile and nodded,

“Absolutely! Are my coworkers also excited?”

They cheered. Some had smiles she knew were forced, but she really didn't care. They signed up for this job, and they could deal with it, she thought as she powdered her leg and put the liner on

“Let me my princess” Camilo purred as he guided the prosthetic back on and into place,

“Thank you my dear Prince,” She smiled as he stood up and stole a kiss from her,

“Of course, now back to your adoring crowd.”

Walter Mouse leaned over the control console,

“2,4,2” he said"Lights!”

The stage illuminated as his Dad walked on with Minnie beside with Marian and Eleanor following,

“ Donald and Daisy is go,”

The duo followed putting on smiles as they stood behind the Family

“Goofy,”

Then the dog toon appeared also with a bright smile as they did the choreography, his Parents meeting at the front Minnie holding up mistletoe and they shared a kiss to the cheers of the family's especially as his Dad played it up putting on a surprised expression. Now, for Marian and Camilo, as the two skipped up, he spun her before he got on one knee, producing the box

The cheering escalated, as she turned and gasped hands flying to her mouth,

Mike and Cameras , Marian, Camilo

He called, the speakers picking up,

“Our Princess of Wonder Marian Mouse, will you do me the honor of being my fairytale, will you marry me?”

“Yes! Of course my Prince!” She cried out for everyone to hear,

The cheers were outlandish as he stood up and slid the ring onto her finger and they shared a kiss, Mickey could be spotted wrapping an arm around Donald, the pair held up their intertwined hands

Camera on hand then on them,

He watched the team do so before Marian and Camilo stepped back, Mickey stepped forwards

Camera on Boss, track track Mike now

“What a wonderful year at our parks! And now my baby girl is getting married, I've already seen Camilo as my son but now it's official he will be my Son in Law and I look forward to seeing the beautiful life they build!” He crowed

-------------------------------------

A little Yax for those fans

.

.

Max froze as he felt arms grip him and he was practically drug to Mickey's office and tossed in,

“Maximilian,” the low voice greeted him,

“Oh joy, I was wondering how long it'd take your rats to find out,” he rumbled, dusting himself off glaring at his father in the corner. His father met the look in equal

“How dare you Maximilian” he finally snarled dangerously ”Crossbreeding with a Warner? Have I not taught you the Rules?”

Mickey merely held up a hand, instantly Goofy tucked himself back into his work,

“Sometimes kids disobey, but you know the consequences.” He pressed a button,”Bring them in,”

Max turned, he hoped Yakko understood if he disappeared it wasn't him. He prayed to Tex that he wouldn't meet the same fate as his mother by the Dip, but as 2 Human CEOs stepped in he realized as they said,

“ You say you have a Toon for sale.”

And saw the mouse motion towards him, sweetly saying,

“This one has started a family with one of yours a Yakko Warner, he said he'd prefer being a Warner then a Disney,”

What they were here for as the pair circled him, like vultures. Max side eyed them, as the more slender of the 2 purred

“Son of one of the Disney Mainstay, oh yes we will take this opportunity. We can throw you to your partner and his siblings, maybe you can help keep them under control.” before giving a feral grin that made Maxes fur bristle,

Goofy stood up, meeting his child's eyes,

“If I may speak sir” Mickey motioned that he could, as the other spoke clearly,

“You understand that he can't go under the Goof name, that's a trademark. You can keep Max but Goof that can no longer be your last name,”

He carefully stepped forwards with paperwork stamped with Denied over it, Maxes last name crossed out the humans shrugged,

“That's perfectly understandable, we will just have it be Warner. So he can blend in better,” They looked him up and down,”He better expect a redesign as well,”

“Oh he knows” Mickey said with that sickly smile as Goofy stood by his side,”Now if that's all,”

The pair nodded taking the offered packet and handing it to a guard who tucked it in a briefcase,

“Pleasure doing business,”

“And Max” Goofy tossed a key at him,”This is to the storage place, you know the one. Your stuffs there,”

He scoffed,

“The only good thing you've ever done. I will never be ashamed of loving who I do,” he flipped them off before walking out the humans scrambling to follow him,

As they got out of the building into the car parked out front one of the humans sighed and removed a mask revealing they weren't, the toon shook her hair carefully removing the eyes, blinking as she put the glasses back on,

“My name is Nora Rita, I work with Warner as the CEO of Animation, forgive us for that show,” She held a hand out stunning Max who looked around as the car drove off, ”No tricks, this is what we have to do when extracting Toons out of the Mouses Burrow,”

He finally accepted the handshake, as she looked to the other supposed human, a puff of smoke and the toon rabbit put his glasses on,

“I'm Rodney and yes I'm the Nesquik rabbit but I work for Warner on behalf of Bugs, my best friend. I work under Nora as Co-Ceo of Warner Animation. Bugs called me as soon as they contacted Nora,”

Maxes eyes widened, this was fully thought out and planned,

“As toons we can't show ourselves around him. We know he has power over us, we aren't stupid we know he keeps a barrel hidden,”

Max shrugged,

“But money talks, I honestly thought I was a goner like my mother,”

They looked sympathetic,

“Everyone knows that story. Nobody buys that it was an accident, but now you've completed her mission….you escaped,” Nora murmured as they pulled up to a familiar house,

Bugs and Daffy stood on the porch as Max and them stepped out, Yakko instantly running out of the house, checking him over with concern, he instantly responded

“I'm alright Yakko, I'm okay,”

“Thank Tex for that,” Yakko embraced him, Max bringing his arms around to hold him

“Let's go inside,” Bugs said smiling “Heya Rodney thanks for makin sure the kid was safe,”

Rodney side hugged him as they walked in

“Of course my brother! It's what us Warners do,”

Warner, that's what Max realized he was known as now as he sat in front of his new bosses now in the living room as Yakko cringed onto him, as he explained the inside secrets of Disney,

“He's a master Manipulator with a penchant for emotional abuse, he will never be caught doing anything illegal. And if he does” he tossed his old dismantled phone onto the table,”He's good at hiding the paw prints,”

Daffy whistled, as Bugs blanched

“Well kid we don't run things like that over here. Any reason you're going by Warner and not Goof?”

“They won't allow it”Nora sighed

Max pulled out the packet, stamped with denied on the front

“Crossing the tracks is the biggest no over there, so they even took the Goof last name in kicking me out,”

The duo stared,

“They found out about Yakko and thus here I am,"

[llondonfog]

🦇

[kiebs-creative-corner]

Tattoos

Story: Six of Powers

Genre: General

Characters: Mari, Jun, Trisha

A short I wrote to get a feel for Mari, Jun, and Trisha's personalities. Also because tattoos are cool.

---

"Huh?" Mari was staring, but she honestly couldn't be blamed for it. Because, with what she knew, what she was seeing didn't make sense. 

The day was warm, a late season heatwave that was just warm enough for t-shirts and jeans and no jackets. Seeing as Mari had moved to City in September, right when it was starting to cool off, she hadn't really seen Jun in t-shirts. At least, not ones as tight as the v-neck he had on, whose sleeves reached just barely to the middle of his bicep. The middle of his bicep where half of a black scaly tail peeked out. 

Now, Mari didn't have much if any memories of their time at the Facility, but she had learned fairly quickly that Jun was virtually invulnerable. He had purposely ruined a steak knife to show her how only her claws and teeth could break his skin. So she was aware that things like needles should shatter if pressed too strongly. 

And yet, that could only be a tattoo on his bicep, unless it was one of those fancy temporary tattoos that lasted like a week.

"Stare any harder and he might just combust," Trisha drawled, examining her freshly done manicure. 

Mari whipped her head around. She opened her mouth, unsure what she was going to say, when a lower voice cut her off. 

"Trisha," Jun scolded, but there was a slight twitch to his lips when Mari looked back at him. It made her stomach flutter. 

"I'm only worried that maybe our dear Mari developed heat ray vision or something," Trisha huffed, but it poorly disguised her own little smirk. "Not that I don't think you don't mind the attention, Junie."

"Shut up." Jun rolled his eyes, but he no longer met Mari's gaze. 

Something in her chest didn't like that. Which Mari refused to examine at this very moment because she would then get distracted and upset that she couldn't remember whatever it was that made her hate when Jun wasn't paying attention to her. She also refused to acknowledge there might just be a simpler reason for that. There were more important matters at hand. 

Mari cleared her throat.

"If I may ask," she began, ignoring Trisha's "No" and Jun's "Anything", "do you have a tattoo?"

Jun blinked before he turned to show his left shoulder. Rolling up his sleeve revealed the rest of said tattoo: a black snake that wrapped twice around his bicep with its head resting just under the ball of his joint. 

Her wild was dismayed that it wasn't a dragon. 

"I got it back when I was twenty-three," he explained and left the sleeve rolled up. Like an invitation to touch it. Which Mari resisted despite her desires.

"We got them together," Trisha added. 

"You have one too?"

"Mm, on my back." She sipped her drink. "And I'm not wearing the right top to show you."

"It's a spider web, between her shoulder blades," Jun explained when Trisha made no move to say more. 

"Ah, I see," Mari murmured, not fully understanding the meaning behind either tattoo. It wasn't like Jun was born in the Year of the Snake or Trisha was a black widow or anything. But that wasn't actually her question. "...how, though?"

"With a needle." Trisha's tone alone said the unspoken "duh". 

Mari gave her her most unimpressed look. "I'm an amnesiac, not dumb, Patricia. I mean, how did Jun get a tattoo?"

Trisha immediately looked a little guilty. Her mouth twisted. 

"Ah, it was...a special needle," Jun reluctantly said. He was staring at Mari with a mildly grim look on his face. "...back in the Facility when the scientists found out your claws could cut me, they took a sample of the chemical makeup to replicate for tools that could work on me. They really only managed to make needles, but the data was still in the hard drives."

"Since my father's company scavenged all the data they could, Company got those files so we could fabricate more," Trisha continued. "Once I took over, we did it to make, well, a tattooing needle and a piercing gun tip."

Mari had covered her mouth and gave them a long look. 

On one hand, she hated that the Facility had had files on something that could bring Jun harm. More than just needles, if he had ever rebelled before the six of them had, the Facility could have made weapons to kill him. And Trisha kept those files instead of deleting them. On the other hand, she hadn't done anything besides make essentially nonlethal equipment, which allowed Jun experiences that someone without his invulnerability could have. It was honestly very sweet of her. 

"Your ears are pierced? I thought they were clip-ons," Mari remarked with a growing smile. "I will admit, that wasn't exactly what I expected."

"You're not...upset?" Jun asked as he ventured closer. 

"Well, there's not much I can do about it," she said. "Besides, if it helped you feel normal, I can't really fault either of you."

He blew out a deep sigh. "I thought you'd be angry."

"Like I said, there isn't anything I can do about it," she insisted. "As long as there hasn't been anything made that can hurt you."

"No, any blueprints other than needles i got rid of," Trisha declared. Her eyes flashed. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt us again."

"Then there isn't any reason for me to be angry," Mari said. She smiled up at Jun and privately marveled at the surprise on his face. "I'm a little disappointed it's not a dragon, though."

He huffed a laugh. 

"I thought that might be a bit on the nose," he remarked, leaning closer to her. "Y'know, being second gen and all."

"Mm, yes. You have a point," she agreed. "And the snake is...?"

A shadow fell over his smile, the warm amusement turned cold. He didn't move, but the spark had gone from his eyes.

"Thought it was cool," he answered finally. 

Mari thought it sounded like a lie.

[silverhallow]

Alexander the great (technically 3 words, but it's one person). Or just Alexander, whichever you want :)

Okay so this ended up as a little one shot rather than as a Drabble hahahahaha

Alexander the Great Troublemaker and the Christmas Tree disaster

With only 7 weeks to go before she was due to pop Sophie found herself in her large kitchen getting her usual Christmas gifts for the family prepared. They were due to leave for Aubrey Hall and their large family Christmas next week and she still have 5 batches of cookies to make.

Charlie was her little helper, her almost 4 year old son was helping with adding the flour to her cookie mix whilst Alexander was taking a nap and their 3 year old Golden Retriever Arthur was guarding him and Benedict was in his studio getting some of the gifts for their family ready.

“Mama, can i help decorate cookies for Neddy and Milo?” Charlie asked as Sophie swapped one batch out of the oven with a second batch.

“Of course my sweet little prince” Sophie said kissing her son’s head as her husband made her way into the kitchen.

“PAPA!” Charlie beamed “I’m helping Mama!”

“Oh that’s wonderful my little prince, Alex is up in the living room watching Scooby Doo if you want to go with your brother?” he said as he kissed Sophie on the cheek and rubbed her swollen stomach and dropped a kiss to the large bump “can i help you at all my queen?”

“I’m good thank you, i’ve had a wonderful helper” Sophie smiled, they had the kitchen renovated after she had Charlie and realised she couldn’t bend down to get into the oven whilst pregnant so she’d insisted that when they renovated the kitchen that she wanted ovens that were at her level and Benedict had been more than willing to give her what she wanted. “But if you want to go with your brother sweetheart you can”

“No, I want to decorate cookies!” Charlie beamed at his parents.

Benedict smiled “perhaps I should see if our Great Troublemaker wants to come and help…”

“If you’re not going to be in the living room with him then he needs to be in here or with you in the studio… he’ll….”

CRASH…

Both Benedict and Sophie looked at one another before Charlie went “UH-OH!” and hopped down from his stool to go investigate what had happened

Benedict ran first, Sophie being nearly 8 months pregnant waddled after her husband and eldest son to go see what the sound of the noise was.

Alexander at 18 months old was more trouble than Charlie had ever been and with Arthur he had a little pal to help him cause trouble.

He had been fascinated with the Christmas tree and having only been 6 months old at Christmas last year he hadn’t really noticed but this year… when he had seen his Mama putting cookies on the tree and the candy canes on the tree he had been desperate to get at the tree to eat the cookies.

Out of the two Bridgerton children, he had inherited the Bridgerton appetite and his Mama’s cookies were his favourite, and Arthur’s food… on more than one occasion had he been found trying to eat Arthur’s food, directly from the bowl…

So when his Papa put him on the sofa and left the room, he had decided to seize his opportunity…

Benedict put him in his little playpen, but he had long learned how to climb out of it and within  minutes of Benedict being out of the room Alex was out of the playpen and giggling as he made his way over to the Christmas tree.

Arthur hot on his heels wondering what the youngest Bridgerton was doing. Arthur would always follow Alex because they shared food, if Alex had food he would share some with Arthur, even though he knew he wasn’t allowed most of it, Arthur knew his mama would tell him off when he managed to sneak chocolate or grapes from Alex.

Alex made his way over to the largest, perfectly decorated Christmas tree. He and Charlie had helped their Mama decorate and Papa had held them both up as they put the star on the tree.

Mama had told him not to eat the cookies when he was trying to put them on the tree but he had been left alone with the tree and he had seen his Uncle Colin steal one from the tree just the day before… so he should be allowed to have one too!

Cookies were after all his favourite treat and Mama’s cookies were the best!!

On little padded feet his toddled over to the tree and using Arthur as leverage he pulled himself onto the Sofa and stood up wobbling “Whoaaaa” he giggled to himself as he balanced himself, little hands to the side to balance before grinning at Arthur “we don’ts tell mama or cawie okay artie”

Arthur gave a wag of the tail in agreement and licked his chops as Alex leaned forward and reached for one of the cookies, a little star window in it and tugged.

The cookies were fastened quite deftly and tightly on the tree to stop them from falling off, or being stolen by a small child (and supposedly an adult!) 

“Eugh” Alex grunted and he tugged with all the might of an 18 month old boy and the tree wobbled.

“Uhoh….” he whined as he pulled the tree too hard when it was wobbling and it crashed down around him and he was hit on the head by the star as it fell and the whole thing hit the wooden floor with a loud clatter.

Alex immediately started to cry, Arthur barked and ran away just as Benedict came running in the room and saw the carnage…

The tree was down, the ornaments everywhere and most of the cookies shattered on the floor and Alex with a red mark on his head crying his little heart out.

“Oh no…” Benedict groaned as Charlie came in after him and gasped

“Alex what did you dooooooooooo” Charlie said looking at his brother in shock.

“What… what… happened” Sophie puffed as she made her way in as Benedict made his way to his crying son.

“Oh god… Alex???” Sophie asked as Benedict lifted his son onto his lap

“Cookie!” Alex sniffed as he put his hands out for his mama.

“How did he get out of his pen?” Benedict asked in shock as he saw the playpen which had moved half way across the room 

“You didn’t fasten it in place did you?” Sophie asked making her way over to her two son’s and husband to get her squirming and crying youngest.

“No??” Benedict said

“I take it you’ve forgotten our little great Troublemaker knows how to climb out of the pen by moving it across the floor and them climbing” she said to her husband

“Ali can climb papa! Artie helps!” Charlie said as he planted a big brotherly kiss to his brother’s head.

“Head hurts mama!” Alex cried as he snuggled himself into his Mama’s bosom.

“Oh god…” Benedict groaned “I totally forgot…”

“So i’m guessing….” Sophie said, lifting Alex’s head to look at the little mark to check there was no bump or blood “our little troublemaker climbed out of his Pen and made a dash for the cookies he knows he is not allowed”

Alex sniffled

“Did you try and get the cookies Alex?” Benedict asked his son “when you know you aren’t allowed them?”

Alex sniffled and turned his face “uncy colly”

“Uncle Colly had one yesterday Papa… he gave me and Alex one and said not to say…”

Benedict groaned and he was going to murder his brother. “I guess we can’t tell you off when Uncle Colin gave you one each…”

“i’M SOWIE MAMA” Alex said crying “will Santa still come?” he asked his little bottom lip wobbling as Charlie gasped in horror at the thought he might not come

“He will still come won’t he mama? I’ve been a good boy! Alex is too!! He’s just little he doesn’t know!! Uncle Colin!!” Charlie said immediately coming to his brother’s defence “can i write to santa to tell him! He has to come!!!” Charlie said, tears welling in his little hazel eyes

Sophie looked at both of her sons and patted next to her for Charlie to get up “I think Papa and I can have a word with Santa but you have to promise Alex… no more cookies off the tree okay otherwise Santa won’t come… the cookies on the tree are for Santa alright? He follows the cookies it’s why Mama makes them for every one okay?”

Alex and Charlie looked at their Mama as Benedict was trying not to chuckle “We promise mama”

“Good boys, now you can help Papa tidy up here okay… Mama will make some more cookies and we can eat them with some hot chocolate whilst we redecorate the tree later okay? But you have to be good boys…”

“Yes mama! We will mama!!” they said as they both wiped their little eyes.

“What about Colin?” Benedict asked as he looked around the carnage in his front room.

“Leave that to me… I think Uncle Colin might not get any cookies this year… or at least cookies with raisins in them… since i know Pen loves them and he HATE them” Sophie grinned at her husband

“I love your thinking” Benedict smiled “Right boys, let’s go get a brush and get this cleaned up…”

Sophie put both of her son’s on the floor as Arthur came back into the room making sure it was safe and all the noise had stopped. “Artie… kitchen come on…” she said to her Golden Retriever who trotted after her and kept guard whilst she made a fresh batch of cookies and Benedict and his little Prince and Great Troublemaker cleaned up the mess in the living room.

It was the only time that Alexander ever tried to get the cookies from the tree, and as William and Violet got older and wanted them, he made a point of telling them the dramatic story of the tree falling on him and their beloved family pet and it always put them off…

As for Colin, he was mortified that his nephew’s ratted him out, that his nephew nearly hurt himself wit the tree because he had stolen cookies from the tree… he was even more upset however when he bit into one of the cookies for him and Penelope and realised Sophie had made Rum and Raisin and had sulked all Christmas Eve and nearly refused to put on the family Pyjamas until he realised he was about to piss off two very heavily pregnant women… and had to suck it up and accept his punishment.

[agirlwithmagicpals]

Next gen oc info

[toshyagii]

.tag dump.

ooc; out of heroics

ic; i've decided to go on living

hc; secrets of the former no. 1

mus; my body may whither and decay but i am still all might

saved; the few things i can afford to cherish

crack; i had nothing better to do today... so i am here!!

drabble; less of a man and more a myth of legend

dash com; it's so lively here

self; o self-inflicted atlas with the weight of the world on your shoulders

gen; a world of comic books turned reality

pros; the people i once stood beside

izuku; you're next

students; i cannot fall behind them

nana; master and mother

naomasa; my dearest friend

gran torino; a tough teacher

bakugou; you must become a proper rival

afo; murder me like you murdered my master

;;answered

;;meta

;;meme weekend

[rosevalleynb]

Flight

hp-nextgen100 prompt 267. flight

Summary: Lily Luna had dreamt of it, of feeling the wind rush past her face and the sun warm her skin.

AO3

[throneofsapphics]

More nyx x sunshine readerrrr

Maybe she gets attacked or something

I need drama

misplaced chivalry 

Nyx x f!Reader

Summary: visiting with your family goes horribly wrong

Warnings: death, graphic depictions of violence, blood, minor injury, references to torture, a hint of angst & fluff, not proofread well

A/N: I did see your other ask, thank you for your request! I hope this hits the drama mark. same reader as ambushes and invitations, but they can be read separately !

Solstice with Nyx and his family was more than you could’ve imagined. Garlands, decorations, wine, food, music, and great company. 

Unfortunately, with the holiday over it meant it was time to do your annual obligatory trek back home. You managed to delay yourself two days before the guilt started creeping in. Estranged would be the best way to describe your relationship with your parents. They didn’t approve of your move to Velaris, or of your chosen profession. 

Trying to imagine the negativity flowing from your body, you took a few deep breaths before approaching the house. Outwardly, it was pleasant - normal. Red brick, a neat garden, a path leading right to the front door, a few chickens could be heard clucking from the coop behind the house. Absentmindedly, you wondered if your father ever got around to expanding that. 

Inside the house, it always felt strained - even before your relationship with them began to fall apart. There was still love, still good memories, and you put most of your conscious effort into focusing on that. It would be a good visit, and maybe things would begin to mend. Worst case you wouldn’t see them again. Your throat caught, despite the tension that’s the last thing you want. 

Three knocks on the wooden door, shaking out your knuckles, and you took a step back, rolling your shoulders and planting your feet like you were headed right into a conflict. 

Your mother answered the door, a worryingly pleasant smile on her face as she tugged you into her arms, squeezing tight. “You’ve grown so much,” she commented. 

Fighting back a wince or sharp retort, you beamed at her. “It’s good to see you.” 

She hummed, grabbing the crook of your elbow to lead you further inside. The scents of your childhood hit you at once, the vague smell of apple pie, old leather furniture, and something else you couldn’t quite place. 

“... made your favorite,” you hadn’t realized she was speaking and quickly added your thanks. Your father came in, shooting you a smile as well, and that was basically a warming welcome from him. 

Later, you realized just why they were being so pleasant. 

“Ella’s daughter completely cut them off,” your mother commented, shooting a nervous look your way. Right - they were scared you’d do the same. 

“That’s a shame,” you moved some food around on your plate. Not really, you figured she wouldn’t do it without a good reason. The night was pleasant - no judgemental comments about your profession or choice on where to live, no prying questions about your personal life or if you’d get married soon. When your mother nearly begged for you to spend the night, you decided it couldn’t hurt. 

-

Nyx knew you didn’t have the best relationship with your parents, and you’d declined his offer to come with you - outright - but he wanted to be there for you in some capacity. 

Your home village wasn’t terribly far from Velaris, and still in easy Daemati range, so he cast his mind out, searching and focusing on you, like his father taught him. 

“How’s it going?”

Around a minute later, “Surprisingly good, I’m going to spend the night.” 

He fought the disappointment that he wouldn’t see you later, and reminded himself to be happy for you. 

“Should I say good luck?” 

He could’ve sworn a soft laugh came through. “Maybe.” 

You filled him in on a few more details, and eventually he promised to check in the next morning, ignoring your gentle teasing, calling him a mother hen. 

-

It happened at breakfast before breakfast. The faint tang of copper filled your senses and you launched out of bed, reaching blindly for the knife Nyx had given you, well aware your knowledge extended to sticking the pointy end at them. 

First, your mothers body laid by the door, limbs sprawled at awkward angles, chest unmoving. The door was still open, the remains of a greeting still on her lips, the knife lodged in her throat. Scanning the room, it felt like time stopped, your entire world screeching to a halt. Three bodies laid on the floor, all dead. You heard one faint familiar heartbeat and scrambled down the stairs, feet sliding in the pools of blood. 

Wood splintered into your knees as you slid the last few feet to your father, the knife lodged in his chest. 

His eyes were half-glassed, knife lodged in his chest. You knew he’d killed the other three men. How had you not woken? Had he cast some kind of shield, now faded as life left him?

You gripped his hand tight, squeezing as his eyes focused. 

“Run,” his voice was hoarse, filled with pain. 

“I’ll get a healer,” the words were just above a whisper, told in vain - you both knew it was too late. 

“I’m proud to be your father,” one tear dripped down his cheek. The first tear you’d seen from him. 

“Stop,” you choked. 

“We both loved you very much,” the faintest squeeze, maybe just a twitch of his fingers. “Run.” 

“I’m not leaving you,” you snarled. Your magic had already cast a basic shield around the room. It wouldn’t hold under heavy assault, but you’d be damned if you let him … die alone. 

Maybe it was part of your nature, to accept the inevitable, to try and bring joy where you could, but you focused on him - repeating the happiest memories of your childhood until his chest stopped moving. Just then did you sob, as you closed his eyes. 

It was stupid to stay here, but you were in shock - you couldn’t leave.

-

It was normal for a short delay between responses, and he waited. A chime of the clock - five whole minutes, and nothing. It shouldn’t have taken this long, and he knew you wouldn’t ignore him. 

“Are you alright?” He tried. 

“Help,” the word was so bleak, your voice desolate and burdened in a way he’d never heard from you, your mind completely open. Fear struck him as he saw through your eyes, fear that could either freeze him in place or bring enough anger to topple mountains. Blood - everywhere, five bodies - two that looked like your parents, three others - and your hands. You were knelt on the floor, one hand still in the pool of blood, the other holding your fathers hand. He could imagine your wide eyes, stuck open in horror. 

One of the bodies was still moving - chest still breathing, rising to his feet, the knife lodged in his thigh, pulled out and already healing - and you didn’t know.

“Run, y/n, run.” Nothing. He needed to get you out of there. Panic he hadn’t felt before hit him. “I’m coming, love.”

In that second, as he was still watching through your eyes, there was just enough time for the man to slice at your back, movements uncoordinated, a strike designed to incapacitate - not kill. You dodged in time for the blade to slice across your shoulder. 

The next second, a wave of dark, pure night slammed him against the opposite wall with a loud crack. Bound in ropes of magic, he left him alive for now. For answers, later. He slid his arms under your shoulder, and he winnowed directly to the river house - right outside his father’s study, where he knew at least a few of his inner circle were gathered. You were limp in his arms, chest heaving with silent sobs, hands clenching at him like a lifeline. 

“I’m here,” he murmured, one hand running over your hair. There was no indication you heard his words. 

One arm held you close to him as the other banged on the door, his mind showing a sequence of the last few minutes to everyone inside. He was beyond words, too fucking angry to try and explain. 

The door flew open. His father, eyes a dark stormy night, anger rolling from him in waves, his mother’s anger matching, but switching to worry as she spotted you. Azriel and Mor were there as well, and Nyx vaguely registered his father grabbing them and disappearing. 

His mother gently ushered them inside, Nyx lifting you into his arms - your body nearly frozen. As magic healed the small gash on your shoulder, as it made the blood disappear, he still held you close, still ran his fingers through your hair and said over and over again, “i’m here, i’m with you, you’re safe,” even as his mind wandered towards how soon he’d be able to get revenge on your behalf - revenge he knew you’d never seek out. Gods, you were more likely to try and show them mercy. Like hell that would happen on his watch. 

“He said he was proud of me. He said he loved me. He cried.” Nyx jolted as you whispered, the first words in the last two hours. You’d fallen asleep on him - but he hadn’t moved an inch, not as people came and went out of the office. Nobody suggested he try and move you, nobody dared to get too close to you, not with his temper and protective instincts barely under wraps. As far as he knew, your father had never said those words to you. Nyx didn’t know how to reply, so he placed a kiss on your forehead. It was stupid to be mad at a dead male, but he wished the male would’ve told you as often as you deserved.

Nyx only left you alone after you were secured in a room warded as heavily as possible, impenetrable except by him or his family. 

“We’ll need to talk to her, eventually,” his mother said carefully. His fists clenched at his sides, but he nodded. 

“Did you get anything from the male?” 

“Azriel’s working,” his father replied, eyes searching his face. 

“I want to see,” Nyx insisted. 

“You don’t need to see that,” his mother argued, but his father held his hand out, understanding flashing in his eyes. Nothing he hadn’t seen before, but she was still protective. 

Apparently, his mother knew when she was fighting a losing battle. “I’ll keep an eye on her,” she promised. Nyx sent a grateful nod her way, and took his fathers hand. 

By the looks of it, Nyx knew Azriel was conducting a special symphony of pain - one reserved for those who’d hurt people close to him. He watched, leaned back against the stone wall - arms crossed, as each word was pulled out of the male, resisting the urge to filter through his mind. 

He waited to comment until Azriel packed up for the night, until the cell door had closed, a barrier in place - one the male wouldn’t hear beyond. 

“What are you thinking?” the shadowsinger offered - not a demand or command, but letting him know he’d listen. 

“They weren’t trying to kill her,” he tucked his hands into his pockets, hiding anger-induced shakes. “They wanted to get to me.” 

“Yes,” Azriel confirmed. Hearing it from another was worse than his own mind. Would you hate him now, resent him? Being with him put you in danger, and he couldn’t live with himself if something happened to you. 

Azriel read his expression easily enough - he was the only one who could. “Pulling away from her won’t keep her safe, not that they already know.”

Nyx exhaled slowly, “it’s my fault.” 

“No,” the other male said sharply, insistently. “You’re not to blame.” 

The words were futile, he’d keep blaming himself. 

-

“I’m so sorry,” Nyx’s hand ran over your hair, your eyes blinking to adjust to the sun streaming through the windows. Why was he sorry? He was sitting next to you, you were laid in an unfamiliar bed, but you knew the hunch in his shoulders, the worry in his eyes. 

The events of the previous day hit you, slamming into your mind, filling you with an unfathomable grief. 

“There’s no reason to be,” your voice was hoarse and rough. “You saved my life.” An uncomfortable silence filled the room for a few minutes, and for once you didn’t have the energy to break it. 

“It’s my fault they came for you,” you could feel the guilt in the statement, and knew exactly what was coming next. He’d try to leave - to ‘keep you safe.’ Nyx was stubborn as a mule, but this was something you wouldn’t budge on. Sure enough, he said, “you’re safer without me.” 

Planting your palms on the mattress, you pushed yourself up to sit - the remnants of the sleeping tonic making the movements slower than usual. It was misplaced chivalry, some kind of attempt for him to be noble and assuage unnecessary guilt. Usually you were slow to anger, but this was enough to piss you off. 

“Do you not like me anymore?” You asked. He blinked, surprised. “Are you not attracted to me?” 

“Of course I am,” he stumbled over the words. 

“Is there a valid reason you don’t want to be with me?” 

“It’s not safe-”

“I don’t care,” you insisted. 

“I can’t put you in danger,” he insisted. 

You weighed the next words carefully, deciding what would get the best reaction. “Are you scared, Nyx?” A muscle in his jaw flexed. “If that’s the only reason you want to leave me, I won’t accept it.”The steadfast look in his eyes wavered, and you knew you had your in. “Tell me you don’t want me anymore.” 

He shook his head. 

“Say it,” you insisted. 

“Of course I still want you,” he muttered. Evidently, he’d realized he wouldn’t get his way. Good. 

Your body swayed as you reached for him, and he grasped both of your shoulders to steady you. There was the slightest twinge in your shoulder, thanks to the wound from yesterday, but besides that you were in good shape. 

He noticed your small wince, and tried to move away, but you reached for him, cupping both of his cheeks, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. Eyes fluttering shut, he let out a slow, slow breath. 

“Until you have a good reason, you’re stuck with me,” you murmured. 

“It’s not stuck,” Nyx groused, and rearranged the two of you, laying you down, head resting on his chest. 

You hummed in content. The grief would come later, but for now you could lean into this moment, lean into his quiet strength.

[anundyingfidelity]

DO YOU HATE ME THAT MUCH? — Billy Butcher

Summary: Butcher gives orders for you to stay back from the fight. You hardly comply and prove differently; he starts thinking in a very improper manner about you.

Pairing: Billy Butcher x female!supe reader.

Word count: 2k.

Warnings: smut!! hate sex, unprotected sex, fingering, enemies to fuck buddies, reader can control blood and explode shit (like Victoria Neuman lol), the usual mentions of violence.

Notes: this is a request made by @thatcharmingmushroom for my 400 followers drabbles celebration. I'm sorry I took soooo damn long on this, but I hope you like it and thank you so much for the idea because I had so much fun with it! I picked the Herogasm episode for this tho hehe

☕ if you like my writing support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

taglist is here!

On the hunt for Payback, you made your way to infiltrate Herogasm along with Butcher, Hughie and the new asshole, Soldier Boy, not caring that the British dick ordered you a thousand times to stay back.

For different reasons, you were kind of forced to stay with the team, and while you didn’t really get along with any of them, Butcher was by far the one you hated the most. And, in the end, when Soldier Boy burned the whole place to the ground with a blast and Homelander arrived, you couldn’t stand there doing nothing. While the three men tried to hold down Homelander, you used your blood to create strong whips around his limbs, trying to tie him to the ground as Soldier Boy prepared to blast, yet again.

But just in seconds, Homelander recharged himself and pushed them all aside, cutting your whips, and flashing you quickly with his heat vision before storming out. Your blood blades barely made it to the hole he left in the roof as the supe just disappeared, flying away like a scared bitch.

“Well,” you started after an instant of staying silent. “I guess we fucking failed.”

Butcher shot you a dark glare as he walked straight until he stopped in front of you. “You shouldn’t be here,” he whispered.

You held his eyes as he towered you with his broad figure. He looked even more intimidating now he started playing the supe, injecting himself with Compund V. “I don’t care.”

There was this smug smirk on his face as you talked back. You knew he hated you; you knew you hated him. But as fucking weird your powers were, controling blood and exploding people with their own, Butcher found you interesting and stupidly astonishing. But of course, he wasn’t going to admit it. They were just intrusive thoughts about you and how hot you were, defying his direct orders of strictly not coming to the supe-orgy. Yeah, Homelander was a fucking cunt, and he would take care of Soldier Boy soon too. Right now, he just needed something to take the stress out after another stupid failure. His hand would work later once back at the motel, he decided.

Butcher leaned down, until his lips almost brushed the shell of your ear. “We’ll see about that.”

“Why do I have to keep listening to you?” you asked as Butcher followed back to the motel.

You stopped right out of your door, because of course you weren’t going to share a room with him and the old asshole. Hughie, who went inside their room, was the only decent human being between all of them, but still, you had to take care of yourself from those fuckers. Besides, the British idiot wouldn’t stop the verbal vomiting the whole fucking trip and you were growing sick of it.

“Because, for starters, you’re a fucking newbie here,” Butcher replied, smirking hatefully. “And second, your powers are fucking out of control. You need training and keep your mouth shut.”

You rolled your eyes, showing him your wrists. “I already healed myself from the cuts I made. Perhaps I should use your blood next time?”

“No, there’s no next time for you.”

“You don’t decide that, Butcher,” you crossed your arms over your chest, tired of being treated like a stupid kid. “I’m helping on this, I want him dead. And if any of you idiots don’t kill him, then I will.”

He curved an eyebrow, not showing any signs of being taken aback at your words, but inside, he was just in awe as before. You really hated Homelander as much as he did, however, you didn’t have a fucking plan. You would attack first, ask questions later. In any way, since when could he care about that? He had no idea.

“Hey,” Soldier Boy talked behind Butcher and stepped in closer between both of you. “You fucking stay back from this, you ain’t doing shit with your blood whips.”

Furious, you motioned your hand to draw fresh blood from a wound on his cheek and created a sharp blade, cutting his skin lightly. Soldier Boy clenched his jaw before smirking at you.

“Talk to me like that ever again and I’ll blow your dick, and not the way you like it,” you warned through your teeth.

Soldier Boy wiped the blood off the fresh wound, and smiled anew before patting Butcher on the shoulder. “She’s all yours, pal.”

With that, the old supe disappeared in the next room. You just wanted this to be over, so you turned around to get inside your room, but Butcher wouldn’t leave you alone just yet, putting his foot between the door and the frame, holding it with his super strength.

“What the fuck you want now?!” you yelled at him as he made his way inside, slamming the door closed.

“Imma have to call the fucking CIA if you don’t calm down your ass,” he threatened between his teeth.

“You wouldn’t-”

“I can, and I fucking will,” he insisted, taking slow strides, making you step back from him until your back met the wall.

His eyes were getting dangerously dark and you could smell the sweat and dry blood coming from him. You noticed his pulse was increasing, and you grinned. Your mind jumped to an unsafe place where you probably knew what Butcher was feeling right now. The heat and coming down the high of what could have been the end of both yours and his enemy was too much to burden. Little did he know that you were the kind of person that used to take out the stress with something, or someone. Just like him.

“From one to ten, how much do you hate me?” you asked all of the sudden, looking straight into his eyes.

Butcher’s fierceful gaze turned into confusion. “What?”

“How fucking much do you hate me?” you repeated yourself steadier.

Butcher rolled his eyes before answering in a whisper. “I’d choose a one thousand scale for that.”

“Good, I hate you too,” you replied with a smirk before pulling him for a kiss that turned heated too fast, but you didn’t care.

You needed release. Something quick, hard and hot to take it out of your system. He was perfect for the task, and by the way his tongue tasted your mouth, you found out that he wouldn’t step back. At least you hoped so. The tension between both of you was so damn sharp and it was just a matter of time for that bomb to explode, and you preferred it this way instead of fighting each other to death.

Gripping the neck of his shirt to get even closer as you kissed, Butcher’s hands roamed all over your hips, running on your sides until he met the flesh of your ass on your jeans, pressing you towards his chest. You gasped against his mouth when he started to unzip your pants, you worked immediately on the buttons of his shirt. Desperately, you discharged his shirt, the fabric being followed to his pants, and he undressed you with the same eagerness until you were only panties and bra.

Butcher lifted you up from the ground, hands on your thighs as he guided you to the mattress. He crawled on top of you, spreading your legs with his big, rough hands and leaning down to lick down at your chest and rip your bra off. His action made you gasp out loud at the same time he sucked on a nipple like a starved man.

“You're a fucking beast,” you whimpered, feeling his hands peeling off your panties and leaving you completely exposed at his mercy.

You tugged at his jeans and he pulled them down along with his boxers as quickly as he could, taking out his dick with that smug smile on his stupid face. He noticed your eyes taking the sight of his half nakedness, biting your lip slightly once you focused on his hard cock pressing on your crotch. It only made you wet.

“Well, I plan to fuck you like one,” he said, grabbing the back of your legs and rubbing the tip of his cock against your wet folds.

“Show me, don’t talk- fuck!”

You let out a rather loud moan when he rubbed your clit with his fingers, playing with your entrance until he inserted a single, thick digit in your pussy. Butcher stretched you out with a finger, then slid a second one, scissoring them to reach your deepest spots as your walls clenched around his digits. You kept whimpering and moaning as he increased the thrusts of his hand.

“Bloody fuck, these are the only sounds I like coming from your mouth, luv,” he hissed, sensing that you almost came on his fingers.

Right before you reached your high, he pulled out and you groaned in annoyance, feeling empty once again.

“Shit,” you breathed out.

He positioned between your legs anew, getting comfortable as he started to push his tip against your slit. The grip of his hands on your thighs became a little harsh once he entered you slowly, the thickness of his cock splitting you open.

“What a tight cunt I always knew you’d be,” he grunted, filling you up completely and leaning down to mark your neck with his teeth.

His mouth and thrusts earned him your sweet moans as he fucked you senseless. The burning soon turned into pleasure. Your nails scratched his back while moaning incoherent words. His hands on your thighs would leave marks on your skin, but it felt so damn good. You needed a little bit of pain to remind you that you were alive, rotting for that sweet bliss only sex could give you.

Moans escaped from your throat and mingled with his deep groans and the sound of your skin against his own, the headboard of the bed hitting the wall with every of his hard thrusts. You pulled him down for a wet kiss when you felt closer and closer to come undone.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you gasped.

Butcher increased the rhythm of his thrusts, his cock throbbing as your walls started to clench around him.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he mumbled against your mouth.

“Do you still hate me?” you asked, trying to catch your breath. You reached down to rub your clit. You were so close, almost there.

“If I keep fucking you like this then I might change my mind- holy fuck!”

In that moment, you came hard with a string of curses and clenching your walls around his cock. The pound of his hips increased and he fucked you through your orgasm to reach his own. You continued rubbing your clit, fingers finding the place where you two connected, meeting his cock coated with your juices when he pulled out just slightly to slam back inside again.

Butcher emptied his cum inside you, mumbling dirty words against your ear. His rhythm slowing down eventually, fucking his seed in your pussy. Once he came down from his high, he pulled out and rolled by your side on the bed. Your body started to ache but in the best way possible. It was the best fuck you had in a long time. After a couple of minutes in complete silence you decided to talk, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“I hope you keep hating on me…”

He turned slightly to see your blank face. “Why?”

“I love hate-fucking.”

He scoffed with a smile curving on his lips. “You bet I enjoyed this too.”

Within a second, you climbed on top of him. Thighs straddling his lap as you rubbed your cunt on his soft cock.

“Second round? You can eat me out and suck your cum out of me,” you gave him a wink, rolling your hips and leaning down for a quick kiss.

“Dirty girl,” Butcher whispered on your lips. “Perhaps put your mouth into good use.”

“I like how that sounds,” you smiled back at him.

Billy Butcher taglist

@delaynew

@thesilmarillionblog

@feyresqueen

@drasticemotions

[byhop]

i can fix the duffers' mistakes one ao3 post at a time

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 2

content warning: mentions of food because big boys gotta eat, there’s a ref photo for an outfit in here that is unfortunately NOT a plus-size girl 😞 (I couldn’t find a big girl wearing an outfit like that for the life of me, but let’s use our imagination), 18+ towards the end so MDNI!

word count: 1.7k (not very drabble-like, ik) kinda proofread

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who wakes up when his 6 am alarm rings, eyes tired and bleary. His roommate is sound asleep, thank god, and Miguel is just staring at the ceiling for a good 10 minutes before he decides to move. He has an 8 am and he needs some type of breakfast before he heads to class.

GymRat!Miguel who uses the college cafeteria to his full advantage. He made sure that his dad’s money went to the highest meal plan. One free meal plan a day and a loaded campus card for everything else. He stacks his plate high with everything the cafeteria is offering today. Sausages, eggs, 2 bananas, a blueberry muffin, and a protein shake he brought from his room.

GymRat!Miguel who made friends with one of the cafeteria ladies, Ms. Beatrice, by the third week of school. She noticed how much he visited the cafeteria and always snuck him an extra treat from the kitchen when she saw him.

“I missed you last Tuesday!” she says, squeezing his shoulder when she walks up to his table. She slides a wrapped egg sandwich across the table. “I was saving some extra cookies for you, but you were nowhere to be found.”

Miguel thanks her, happy to have something light for later, “Ah, I was stuck in the library doing a group project. Sorry about that, Ms. Beatrice.”

“As long as you’re getting your education, I don’t mind,” she says, hands on her hips. “Don’t go out there skipping class now, ok?”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Miguel says, waving her goodbye. His mom would kill him if that ever happened. Not that he would tell her, she just had a sixth sense for his “fuck-ups.”

GymRat!Miguel who makes it to his class fifteen minutes early to arrange his part of his desk to his liking. Sometimes he feels so embarrassed when he needs to grab something in the middle of class, his ears hyperfocusing on every little noise he makes in quiet, crowded areas. He always makes sure to get out his laptop, a pen, a pencil, a highlighter, a notebook, some white-out, and a water jug. He prefers to be over-prepared.

GymRat!Miguel who’s feeling anxious when the sorority girls pass by his table, giggling and twirling their hair. They attempt to make conversation with him, speaking ill of the professor. He just nods along for the sake of being a gentleman. He thought the professor’s Millennial attempts at Gen Z jokes were kind of funny, albeit very 2010. He didn’t have the heart to tell them he actually enjoyed the lectures.

GymRat!Miguel who’s never been more excited for a lecture to start in his life. He didn’t know many more “wow”’s snd “that’s crazy”’s he had left in him. The noise of the ice hitting their plastic coffee cups as they struggled to get every drop out was starting to grate against his ears. He missed you and your sticker-covered water bottle. He looked over at his jug and smiled when he saw the ‘Game Over’ sticker you gifted him before the last lab. You noticed his joystick keychain and felt that his water bottle was empty.

GymRat!Miguel who declines the girls’ offer to join them on a morning jog after. He liked to work out in solitude and morning jogs with them would mean conversation. He would also have to be extra conscious about what he wore. No older lady walking her dog needed to spot him jogging with shorts that were too short for his own good and a tank top cut so deep that it was like string on his chest.

GymRat!Miguel who decides to head to the library in between class to kill time. He figured he can see if there are any science fiction he can check out to read in his free time. As he walks there, he opens Instagram to scroll. No, he has not been checking the app since this morning to see if you let him in, he’s not a freak. He stops walking when he checks his notifs to see that you accepted his follow request. He wastes no time to click your page again and is bombarded with tons of photos.

GymRat!Miguel who has to close the app immediately when he sees your first photo. It's a picture of you outside of a restaurant in a knitted two-piece. The top is open just a bit to see your chest and the long skirt is low enough to see a part of your stomach peeking through. Your smile is radiant and the caption is something about congratulating someone. You look delectable and Miguel can’t afford to run back to his dorm to let his mind wander over it right now.

GymRat!Miguel who gets another notification as he steps into his dorm room after his last class of the day and sees that you’ve liked and commented on his most recent post. It’s a mirror picture of him flexing his arm after his last work out. His shorts are riding high on his thighs and the curve of his ass is very noticeable. Gabriel had blew up his phone with voice memos of him cackling after he posted it.

“Looking good!! 🫣 Get those gains Miguel! 💪🏾”

Miguel runs a victory lap in his dorm room, thankful that his roommate wouldn’t be back until that night. He’s jumping and punching the air excitedly as if he were a boxer. If he wasn’t fearful of busting his ass, he’d do a backflip. Take that, Gabri.

GymRat!Miguel who decides to go back to your account, running on the hype of that one compliment from you. He stares at that first photo again, still mesmerized as if he didn’t see it earlier. He gives a like and starts typing.

“Wow…”

No, that’s corny.

“Loving the blue…”

Is he a frat guy?

“You look stunning”

Was that too much? He decides to add on a heart eyes emoji, afraid he might be coming on too strong.

GymRat!Miguel who goes a little further down your page. There’s a photo of you in a crochet cover up, your swimsuit peaking through the material. He groans as he slides to the next picture and the top of your cover up is off and it’s just a view of your back with your bikini string wrapped around it. Your lower half is in the water and if he can imagine it just enough, he can feel himself right behind you, taking in the view of your ass against him.

He’s hard. Again.

He decides to just let everything hang while he has the dorm to himself. His boxers are to his ankles as he sits on the bed, back against the wall. He keeps staring at your swimsuit pictures. Your breasts pushed together while you lean over the boat. Your hips swaying in a clip of you dancing with your friends. Your stomach on display as you lay in the sand, ready for him to squeeze.

He grit his teeth as he played the clips over and over again, his hand moving fast to bring him his relief. He closed his eyes and imagined he was there, watching you swaying before him. He would join you, grab your hips and let you guide him in the dance. He felt faint as he let go, voice shouting and white splattered across his shirt and fist.

He breathes fast, trying to calm down. He decides to like the photo dump and comment some aimless beach emojis under the post. It was the least he could do after using it to get off. How embarrassing.

GymRat!Miguel who jumps when his phone dings again. He was prepping to go to the gym when your response comes flying to his phone. His heart picks up when he sees you replied to his comment.

“That is so sweet of you to say! 🥺 Thank you 🥰”

He doesn’t know if you took it as a friendly gesture or a sign that he wanted you. Either way, he’s over the moon. There’s a pep in his step as he blasts Super Shy in his ears on the way to the gym. He had a new motivation to push harder in his sets.

GymRat!Miguel who tacks on 10 extra pounds during his arm workout. The guys in the gym are eyeing him in wonder and horror as he uses the 70lb weights for tricep extensions. He thinks of seeing you in lab later that week and decides to do some hip thrusts.

He can never be over-prepared.

GymRat!Miguel who decides to take a picture at the end of his work out to post on his story. He’s sweating, hair dripping towards the ends, his chest glistening. The angle is awkward as he moves the camera below him and flexes an arm for the picture. The story was meant for one girl and one girl only, so he didn’t really care how silly it looked to others.

GymRat!Miguel who almost fist pumps on the walk home when you like his story and leave a reply. He checks the private messages, grin on his face before he even reads what you have to say.

“Looks like you had a nice workout. I might have to join you next time and get some tips 🤔”

Miguel swiped the app up and texted Gabriel:

“Don’t ever question my game again”

"? Wtf are you talking about"

Miguel opened up his messages with you again and replied to text him whenever and he’d be happy to help.

GymRat!Miguel who winds down for the night, scrolling on his phone before he closes his eyes. Of course you posted a story and of course he pressed it within record speed.

It was a photo of you laying down all bundled up with a cute ‘good night’ gif moving across the bottom. You had on a spaghetti strap tank top and if your blanket wasn’t in the way, he’s sure he would see more than that.

You looked soft, adorable, kissable.

He liked the story and responded back a “good night” and closed his phone. He wanted you to visit him in his dreams once more.

dividers by: @gigittamic 🩵

a/n: tumblr mobile kept deleting full paragraphs of my draft. not happy about that because I kept losing my flow. 😒 it happened like THREE TIMES 😭

Thanks for reading! Like, comment, reblog, and tell me how you feel! 🩵

Wanna be added to the taglist for GymRat!Miguel? Comment and let me know. 🤗 (PLEASE HAVE YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO. This series has been and will get even more NSFW!)

taglist: @ghost-lantern 🫶🏾🥺

[starrylothcat]

Deserved

Pairing: Crosshair x Gen!Reader

Summary: Crosshair wakes up next to you.

Warnings: None. A lil’ fluff. A lil’ angst. Spoilers for S3.

WC: 300

A/N: I have so many feelings after the season premiere! Crosshair is making me act up. I wrote this little drabble bc I love him. Enjoy!

Crosshair opened his eyes, expecting to see the dark durasteel ceiling of his cell.

As his eyes focused in the early morning light, he quickly realized he was somewhere else. The pillow beneath his head was soft. His back was comfortable on a mattress, not in pain from the hard cot he spent his sleeping and waking hours on in the detainment facility.

A soft sound broke the silence, and Crosshair turned his head.

You were asleep, peaceful and beautiful, your chest slowly rising with each breath.

That’s right. He was here. With you.

Crosshair let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He could feel the familiar panic and anxiety in his gut fading. Seeing you next to him brought him back to reality.

Crosshair slowly lifted a hand, ever so gently brushing his fingers across your cheek.

You smiled, mumbling his name, but didn’t wake.

Your skin was warm and soft. You grounded him.

His fingers trembled slightly, but not from his anguished memories. His hands have steadied ever since being with you, though not fully gone.

Instead, they trembled with emotion. How could someone so perfect, so forgiving, so strong, be next to him every morning when he wakes.

He still didn’t think he deserves this, or deserves you.

He knows it’s a stupid thought, but Crosshair is still amazed daily that you continue to stand by him.

Crosshair had accepted his fate, ready to die in the Empire’s grasp, to rot away in a cell as they took what they needed from him.

All it took was someone to believe in him. Omega didn’t give up on him. Neither did his brothers. Neither did you.

Crosshair pressed his lips to your forehead, shifting himself closer to you, to feel your body fully against his.

You wrapped your arms around him, uttering something before nuzzling into his chest, quickly falling back to sleep.

Crosshair closed his eyes, focusing on both of your breathing. Crosshair felt himself slipping into a dream, a pleasant one filled with your warmth. His last thought before succumbing to sleep was maybe he did deserve this. Maybe it was time to forgive himself.

But that could wait until later. Right now, he just wanted to be held by you.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Reblogs and Comments are Love! ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Taglist: @crosshairlovebot @sev-on-kamino @kimiheartblade @wizardofrozz @clonemedickix @sunshinesdaydream @freesia-writes @multi-fan-dom-madness @aconstructofamind @dreamie411 @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar @starqueensthings @idontgetanysleep @secretthegriffin @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @secondaryrealm @littlemissmanga @maybethatfanfictionwriter @pb-jellybeans @wanderer-six @king-chaos-world @dukeoftheblackstar @523rdrebel @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @sleepingsun501 @coraex @cw80831 @dangraccoon @mythical-illustrator @eternal-transcience @the-cantina @nahoney22 @moonlightwarriorqueen @stinkyluna @skellymom @reader6898 @lamiliani

[silverhallow]

Farts, Charlie, Will and Alex

Word count: 444

This for a bit longer…

Giggling fits

There was nothing funnier to a group of young boys than when someone farted and god help them, they were trying their hardest not to giggle.

Stood in the church as they watched their little sister getting Christened, their Uncle Hugh being the one conducting the Christening.

Charlie, Alex and Will were standing with their cousins all of them fighting back the fits of giggles as they heard the little squeak coming from someone’s bottom. They had no idea who it was as the church was full of people from the village.

Alex, the one who was always in trouble was almost blue in the face as he fought back the giggles. His mama had promised him they could go look at David Crabtree’s new litter of puppies if he behaved all the way through the christening and was as quiet as a church mouse.

It was the hardest thing in his 4 years of life that he had ever had to do.

Charlie was holding his sides as he had tears in his little eyes as he fought back and William was leaning into Charlotte giggling into her shoulder.

It was only as the room went quiet and it happened again, this time louder that their resistance broke. Edmund and Auggie were the one who went first and once he started giggling, the rest of the boys all broke down into fits of giggles with Amanda, Charlotte, Belinda and Caroline all looking horrified at their cousins and siblings as they broke down completely.

“My Apologies Mr and Mrs Bridgerton” came a lone voice from the back of the Church, one of the parishioners looking completely horrified that it had happened as Benedict chuckled as another one was let rip

“It is all right Mr Dawson, I was under the impression it was little Violet here making such a noise so to know it was you, is a relief. Are we alright boys?” he asked amused at the group of boys who were rolling around on the floor, laughing so hard that Hugh had to stop the christening and allow for all the boys a chance to catch their breath…

Once they started again, Alex apparently forgot his promise to his Mama and had learned a new trick curtsey of his Uncle Colin, and as the christening came to an end his put his arm under his armpit and Pfffttt

Which set all the boys back off again, and even Benedict tried to fight back the laughter but the look from his wife, stopped him short and Alex had to wait an extra two weeks before he was allowed to go look at the puppies.