#first ever fic

[sarcastic-dumbass]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Hatchetfield Universe - Team StarKid Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Stephanie Lauter/Peter Spankoffski | Hot Chocolate Boy Characters: Stephanie Lauter, Peter Spankoffski | Hot Chocolate Boy, Mentioned Ruth and Richie - Character, Mentioned Solomon Lauter - Character Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Character Death, Guilt, Survivor Guilt, Idiots in Love, lautski, Solomon Lauter is in Hell, First Kiss, Missing Scene, Ruth and Richie are Pervs, but we already knew that, Song: Sweet Nothing (Taylor Swift), Canon Compliant, First ever fic, not beta read we die like solomon lauter:, cocky and too sure of oneself, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary:

And without even thinking Steph asked out, "Do you think Ruth and Richie are in Heaven?"

Pete turned to look at her "Never mind. I'm sorry." She turned away, ashamed to have brought the topic up, but Pete brought her sight back to him. He smiled sadly at her.

He seemed to be pondering the question when he said: "I don't think they made it to whatever form of Heaven there is," he chuckled lightly at that.

or

Stephanie Lauter and Peter Spankoffski talk it out at Homecoming. Because they deserved this.

[ladyenamoured]

If They Hadn't Gone to Sleep

Summary:

Canon divergence - Before they go to sleep in the gazebo Kate talks about her conflicted feelings and Anthony is honest with himself and Kate about his feelings. They talk and everything changes.

Link to fic

(Please note that this is not Edwina friendly, if you don't like that, please don't read.)

Big thank you to @kateandanthonyaremyparents for all the amazing help! 😊🥰

[somegirlontheinternet135]

☆Anything And Everything, All Of The Time☆

~Chapter 1~

*Huff* *Huff* *Huff*

"Cmon-cmon! We gotta hurry, WHAT'S TAKING YOU SO LONG?!"

Running through the seemly endless night, a band of cookies rush for their escape. Sounds of their footsteps being blurred out by the blaring of sirens and shouting from the distance. Their group of 5 members, with their leader, a souly cloaked figure, racing in front of them, clutching a satchel of unnamed content, presumably stolen.

"STOP! IN THE NAMED TBD, WE DEMAND YOU TO STOP AT ONCE!!!" A voice yelled, the voices from behind them getting louder and louder with step they took. The group kept in till they were at a safer distance; one of them, a cookie with white and mint colored hair, pulls out a strange device, resembling that of a pocket watch. "Toothpaste Cookie, NOW!!" Their leader yelled; desperately, he begins to alter the tiny clocks' hands to another time. "Timejumper, do your thing!" He yelped as presses the face of the clock. As if automatic, bright yellow volts begin to fly out of the watch. whilst its hands start to rapidly spin

The electric bolts swirl around the group, the voices and sirens only increase in volume. But just when they were close enough to catch them, all they could see was a yellow light, then nothing, the group they were after had vanished. . .

*Voom* *Poof*

Entering a forested area, the same yellow light and volts that sent the group of bandits away, was visible once again. Using the timejumper, they were able to teleport to another location. Safe for now, they all relapsed, taking heavy breathing and slouching after their intense chase. A cookie with a red hoodie begins to speak, "*Phew* Great. . . now where are we? . ." She said, still shaken up. "Looks like we're in the middle of the woods*Ugh* just perfect . . ." Toothpaste Cookie said annoyed, getting up from his crouching position to cross his arm and sigh.

"Exactly. . ." Their leader, and only one of them who decided to conceal their identity, undoes her cloak, reveling her long, twisted ponytail, underneath. "We'll set up camp here for the night. Toothpaste Cookie, help me collect wood for a fire," she said, sternly. "*Sigh* Aright boss." With the time spent, the group of bandits set up a small campsite for themselves, crafting a fire for staying warm during the cold night. They sit around the fire, protected by a castor of trees; two members of the group, Half-Avocado and Redberry Cookie were already sound asleep, resting their heads on a nearby log. Whilst the other three, Toothpaste Cookie, Peeled Carrot Cookie, and the leader, Twizzly Gummy Cookie, stayed awake. Everything from their past heist felt. . . off, their crew had been on the run for the longest time, so it was like weren't used to it by now, it was just that time felt more. . . tense

Like what they were doing would end the world. It didn't help that their leader, Twizzly Gummy Cookie, had a change in state. Normally their boss would be bursting with energy, fueled by chaos; then, out of nowhere, something just. . . clicked, and she became strict, more controlled. She was still the same person, but sometimes it was like taking orders from a complete stranger. The three of them sat from opposite ends, the other two sitting together whilst Twizzly sat alone; still clutching onto her satchel, as if it someone were to snatch it from her at any moment. "I'm just saying, TBD been after us for who knows long, one day they'll give up eventually." Toothpaste Cookie exclaimed, polishing his instrument with a silk cloth. "Bro, you've seen what those guys can do! Plus, bet they're even more angry from last, you can never be too careful!!" Peeled Carrot replied to counter

"*Tsk* Really?"

"Yeah really!! I could tell, it was all in the eyes!!!"

"*Haha* Whatever you say Mom. . ." Toothpaste laughed, seeing his friends' caution as being 'overprotective'. "*Ugh* Boss, what do you think about all this?" She asked Twizzly Gummy Cookie, who was still tightly holding her satchel whilst looking at the ground. It takes her minute to response. "Doesn't matter. . ." She announced, not even getting from the ground. "Wha-?" Peeled Carrot gasped confused; "Our reputation, TBD, all of it doesn't matter, at least not anymore," Twizzly Gummy Cookie said nonchalantly. The two cookies across from her glimpse at each other before looking back at her; the boss who had a flare for the dramatic, who held her reputation as the 'most wanted criminal in the galaxy' stopped caring for her own reputation. They could get behind for her not caring the rest of her crew, but her own?

"You're kidding right? . ." Toothpaste Cookie said, a sweat forming on his brow. Twizzly Gummy didn't move, scaring the awaken two even more. "B-Boss, you can't be serious, you hold the title of the most-" Peel Carrot Cookie said before being cut off, "I said. . . it doesn't matter! . . " She said, "Let me tell you something, stealing, the crimes, we were getting nowhere. . . But as long as we have this. . . we serve a purpose. . ." She replied as she displayed the satchel to them before quickly pulling it away. What made it worse was that she said it all nonchalantly, they couldn't believe what they were hearing, yet disappointingly had to go along with it, not even knowing the true content in her possession

As noted before, the rest of the team was never given a proper introduction of object stolen from the TBD, so the more she spoke about it, the more out of mind and enthralled she sounded. "This. . . will be the answer all of our problems! . . our prayers. . . our desires," she rambled, now graded onto the base of the bag, holding onto it tighter. Both Peeled Carrot and Toothpaste Cookie start to back away from the firepit, already terrified of the boss's behaviors. Yet they were curious, what could be causing their boss to act so erratically

It took them what felt like hours to ask, the two of them waiting for the other to respond. "B-Boss, 'this' is really a good description. . ." Peeled Carrot Cookie finally spoken. "Yeah boss," Toothpaste expressed coming after her, "d-don't think you ever. . . 'showed us' what you stole. . ." Toothpaste said cautiously yet curious. Like it were instinct, Twizzly held the bag close to enough to her face, tighter than before, whilst growling and froing at the mouth like a ravenous animal, staring directly at the two who'd dared to even ask the question. It made the two of them flinch, sweating forming on the faces whilst backing away even more

Seeing her minions' rather horrified expressions, made Twizzly Gummy Cookie calm down after a few moments. Processing to unlatch her grip from the satchel, claw marks being left on the material as a result; going back to sitting normally as it she wasn't just giving her workers death glares, she huffs. "*Sigh* Know what? . . fine, if it'll get you off my back. . ." She said, now pulling the satchel onto her lap, the awake gang members already coming out of their defensive states; "Well? get over here. . . but no touching." As she began undoing the zipper that kept the object inside, Peeled Carrot and Toothpaste Cookie got up from where they sat and crept forward, still feeling unsure being near the boss but willing to see whatever was making her act the way she did. By the time the zipping was undone, the two had already came to her at reasonable distance, not too close yet not too far either

"Toothpaste Cookie, Peeled Carrot Cookie, behold in all its glory. . . The Time Capsule!" She said with a godly tone in her voice. Finally revealing the valuable to her worker, the item resembling that snowglobe, and at its base, was a winding key. Twizzly Gummy expected better reactions from her crew, instead met with a mix of shock and confusion. Peeled Carrot clearly had something in mind but were too afraid to say it aloud, all the while their leader is impatiently waiting for response. However, Toothpaste was not too convinced nor the happier. "Boss, you're not telling me we risk being caught over some old antique, are ya?!" He asked, still confused and rather angered at the fact she nearly got them trouble.

Somehow, he forgot what he happened a few minutes ago. Twizzly immediately directly Toothpaste Cookie's way, whilst Peeled Carrot gave him what could be described as a "Why would you say that?!" look. "Just. . . An antique. . ." Twizzly Gummy said, staring souly at Toothpaste Cookie and getting up from the log, causing the two in front of her to back away out of fear. "You think. . . this?! Is just a antique?!?!" She yelled in her rage, now marching in Toothpaste Cookie's direction, still holding the capsule. Him, already regretting what he said before, starts to frantically fix his mistakes; "W-w-wait boss! I didn't actually me-" It was too late, Twizzly had already gotten so close to his face their noses were touching

Proceeding to grab onto his shirt and pull him even closer, she begins growling in his face, exposing all of her teeth. "THE TIME CAPSULE CAN BEND REALITIES, DESTROY TIMELINES, AND YOU THINK IT'S JUST ANTIQUE?!?!? YOU-" She roared into her minion's face, before being cut off. As she did, a yellow glow became to shone from the irises of her eyes, abruptly letting go of Toothpaste Cookie's shirt and backing away. She huffs, like a angry dragon blowing smoke through its nose. "We had a long; You two, get some rest. . ." She said sternly, acting as if her past actions never happened. Twizzly Gummy Cookie walks away whilst the other two are left to stare at her, already shoken to the core after the event. Especially Peeled Carrot Cookie, who was terrified just by watching

With not many other options offered to them, they both walk back to their log, finding places on the grass to rest. Later into the night, the misfitted gang had fallen asleep, each member using the logs they were previously sitting on as pillow, whilst their leader slept against tree, holding the stolen time capsule like a stuffed animal. Even as she slept, she still couldn't like it go. What is the time capsule? What was its purpose? And why did leave Twizzly Gummy Cookie is such as state?. .

Just then, the key of the snowglobe became to whine almost automatically. A beautiful yet haunting song played from the capsule, just when an ominous, yellow tinted, glow shone from its glass coverings. Enchanting Twizzly Gummy Cookie with its strange spell. . .

*Inside The Cookie's Mind*

Normally, Twizzly's dreams would be filled with havoc, battlefields of explosives, fire, and other dangerous things. This time, it was entirely different, she was placed in what seemed to be the center of a black void. Already sitting down, she gets up to explore her surroundings. For whatever reason, her area felt familiar to her the more she wandered, she couldn't put it on what made her feel this, or how it did. . . All she knew was that she was definitely here before. . . Walking and seemingly getting nowhere, Twizzly could finally find noise within the maddening silence, fainting giggling. . . "What the- who's there?!" Twizzly Gummy yelled into the darkness, picking up her composure as soon as dropping it. "Cmon bring it. . . I SAID BRING IT!!!" She said, holding her fists up, ready for a fight. The giggling quickly stopped, turning into the repeating of her name, over and over again, trying to loll her in. At that point, from the setting to the voice saying her name, it was all disturbingly familiar. . .

"Twizzly. . ."

"Twizzly. . ."

It said, in an almost amused and teasing manner. The cookie unclutched her fisted as the voice sounded as if it were getting closer. Twizzly could recognize the voice for what it really is, only one being would this eager to mess with her head. "Hi Twizzly!" The voice greeted cheerfully, appearing behind her, giving Twizzly Gummy Cookie a quite the spook. "Ahh-!" She yelped, arching her back; frantically turning herself around to reveal the glowing yellow mass in the back of her. What was behind her was that of a large silhouette resembling a cookie, showing no features but on the right of their face, a black device that covered their eye, sort of modified eyepatch. Seeing the entity now in front of her, quickly backs away, sweating bullets as her speech became shaken. "M-m-my kepper! I'm so sorry, I-I didn't mean to-!"

She yelped frantic before being cut off, for once, she seemed to be afraid. But the creature didn't seem to care for Twizzly's emotional state. "Oh no, not a problem hon!~" they said cheerfully, the mass beginning to float off the ground. Twizzly Gummy did nothing but stare nervously as they floated just above her head, looming over her almost ominously. "Cmon, don't be such stranger! How's you and your crew? Have ya done anything I told ya to do hmm?" They asked curiously, tilting their head. "Oh- yeah, that!" Twizzly said somewhat panicked, falling to ground to get into a strange kneeling bow. "We're fine, Timekeeper. . . And even better news, we were able to grab the time capsule from the TBD. " She said with euphuism but trying to sound obedient. Due to only being a silhouette, it wasn't exactly easy to tell what they're feel, but their visible eye prosthetic made less hard; looking at the Timekeeper's face, she could've sworn it widen a bit.

"Oh really?. ." They said, interested and definitely excited; Twizzly Gummy Cookie gets up from her kneel before nodding her head, "Yeah. . . really!" she said hopeful, looking up at her god and holding her hands together. "Well, that's amazing Twizzly!!" Quickly as they did, the timekeeper grabbed Twizzly by both hands and starts spinning her around, lifting her as if she were lighter than air. Ever since Timekeeper found Twizzly it was like a spark was made, like that they meant to be; every mound of worship or praise that was given to them, and yet somehow she felt adored. This was her purpose, her higher calling, or aleast that's she been told. . .

After a few moments of celebration, Timekeeper had fully swung Twizzly to their side, an arm draped over her shoulder, cheerful to the fact everything was coming to their side. Twizzly Gummy smiled, seeing them happy just made her all the happier; just then, they grab pull her close to her face, to a point their faces were touching, flustering the cookie a bit. "Now we enter phase two of my plan!" Timekeeper said, creating a symbol with their hand, you could hear glass spatter in the background, her mood went from happy to shocked and terrified. "P-phase two? . ." Twizzly said, starting to sweat, tasks from the timekeeper were always difficult, orginally she thought the so called 'phase one' was hard, but a phase two. . . "Yeah, two phase! I never told ya that?" Timekeeper asked, disregarding her follower's state. All Twizzly did was shake her head 'no'. . .

"Huh. . . guess the writer left some stuff out. . ." Timekeeper shrugged their shoulders, then, snapping their fingers, disappears in a tick a of yellow light. Causing Twizzly to fall down a bit before regaining her balance; she looks to her left and right, trying to find out where her god had teleported to this time. "Twizzly. . ." Timekeeper said calmly, finally, the cookie looked behind her, of course. . .

Not only had they somehow manifested two chairs, but a coffee table complete with two coffee mugs, all within a second. It made sense, this was a dream after all, "Cmon, sit with me. . ." They calmly encouraged, sitting comfort in the chair they created. Obeying her master, Twizzly walks to the empty chair kindly provided to her, sitting just the opposite side her god

Timekeeper runs a finger on the rim of their cup and begins to speak of their plan. "Phase two of my plan is simple, you know the time capsule right?. ." They kick a leg atop the other, "weeell. . . I need ya get rid of it." To think it couldn't get worse; somehow, she was slapped into the position her workers when she said her career didn't matter, how the tables had turned. "W-w-what?. ." Twizzly squeaked out nervously, the god who sat across just stared at her, lightly swinging a foot. "Do I needa to repeat myself?" They said sternly, yet keeping their cheerful tone. "I. Need ya. To. Get rid of it." Timekeeper said, punctuating each sentence by leading closer, landing their hands on the table between the two of them

Clearly, they noticed Twizzly's shock and confusion with her facial expressions alone, they knew all to well. Leaning back into their chair, they pick up the mug beside them, sipping the liquid inside. "*Sigh* look kid. . ." Timekeeper sighs, holding their mug by the handle. "When I'm free, it can't be just you and I knowing, I'm not about that sorta stuff; seriously what's is this? Weirdmageddon?" They exclaimed, taking another sip from their mug. "If you wanna make someone stand out, to shine compared to anyone else, they gotta make an entrance, that's the key to every good show. . ." They put their feet up onto the chair, crossing their legs together. "And that's where you come in!" Timekeeper places the coffee mug back on the table. "You know where you and your are camping out? There's museum just a few meters away, leave the capsule by the doorstep, and everything else should fall into place! Does sound good?" They asked

Out of anything and everything that came out her god mouth, this was possibly the most revaluating. Twizzly took her sweet time, sorting through her thoughts and thinking what she should say next. A part of her wanted to agree with the Timekeeper, she had to. . . On the other hand, she wasn't ready to part ways with the time capsule, through that object she was able connect with her muse. She worked so hard for it, giving it away just felt wrong. The timekeeper, growing inpatient begins to leaning closer to their follower. "Uh, Earthbread to Twizzly, ya still there?" Timekeeper asked, snapping their fingers in the cookie's face to 'wake her up'. Quickly shaking their head, Twizzly came back from her mind little trip, picked out what wanted to say but was still nervous of letting it out. "Hmmm, do you needa explain again?" Timekeeper asked, once again resting a leg a top the other

Taking a breathe, she took her lap. "No, no need, I understood fine, better yet. . ." She continued, picking the coffee mug and looking at her reflection through the liquid. "Your plan is amazing! I feel like we're getting just one step closer to freeing you, but. . . There has to be another way, right? . ." She places the mug back on the table before looking back up at the timekeeper, still sitting in their original posture. Weird, considering Twizzly was expected a larger reaction of them. . . "Now don't get me wrong!- Your plan amazing! It just that. . . we have such a strong bond, wouldn't it but better if-"

"*Zip!-*"

Not even minute, before any more tragic convincing, the timekeeper had shushed their follower, placing a finger onto her lips. "Haha, think it'd be better for you to stop talking. . ." Timekeeper giggled then pulling their finger away, no matter how many times they heard it, they knew exactly where Twizzly's idea was going. Of course, it spooked her, a lot actually, but willing to say something, anything to change their mind. "I-I'm sorry Timekeeper. . . I was only suggesting-" "You worship me, right?" Timekeeper asked, once cutting her words in half. Even though she saw coming, Twizzly never meant anger her god, all because she couldn't part with the very thing that brought the two of them together. . . "Do anything for me?" They continued, ridding their follower with questions, at that point it was too late, Twizzly gotten herself into this mess and there was nothing to than listen, she nods her head 'yes'. "Then why can't you do this simple request? Huh!?" Timekeeper yelled, leaning forward while smiling. Despite their demeanor changing, they never changed tone of their voice, making them just as cheerful as before, they were quite good at acting. . .

"Listen here kid, I'm one for remembering things and last I checked, you made oath approximately 262800 minutes ago, swearing your loyalty to me and me alone!" They proclaimed passively, getting so into it they got off their chair, climbed onto the coffee table, knocking over those two mugs in the process. Looming over the cookie once more, they place hand on her cheek, Twizzly leans back in her chair, now terrified of what was to happen next. "So," they said, lifting her chin, "are you gonna obey this simple task? Or does that oath worth nothing to you?. . " Everything that the timekeeper said, made it as if sound as if she was rebelling against them, and Twizzly is far too smart to push it any further, doesn't that sound familiar? "N-n-n-o my timekeeper- m-my soul purpose is follow you in till the end!- I *sigh* shouldn't deny that. . ." Twizzly exclaimed, "I am a terribly sorry for earlier, and for that I'll stop at nothing to make sure your plan succeeds" She slowly goes back to sitting upright in her chair

"Aww. . . that's a good girl~" Timekeeper said, talking down to the cookie whilst petting her on the head. Out of all the gods and overloads in their universe, the timekeeper was one of the few considered "layback," and Twizzly couldn't be more thankful. "Like I said," they confided, climbing off the table and back into their chair, "there's a museum near ya campsite, leave it on the doorstep and let the cookies do their thing! Does that sound like plan?" They exclaimed before asking one last time. "*Sigh* Yes my keeper. . ." Twizzly Gummy sighed, getting back into her stern nature from hours before. "Great! Guess I'll be sending you off then!" Snapping their finger, a rumbling could be heard from Twizzly's half of their setup; not even a second later, visual white cracks could be seen from the ground, a sign that dream was coming to an end. Out of fear, Twizzly quickly gets up from her chair, but it was too late. . . a large hole had consumed her ground and her entire half. "AAAHH-!" She screamed as lost her footing

But just before she could fall in, the timekeeper had teleported in front of her at the nick of time, snatching onto her jacket. Pulling her close, they let out one last, ominous message. . . "And remember, I hate, disappointment. . ." With those words said, they let go the cookie, allowing her fall out of the dream and into the real world. Wide-eyed, Twizzly watched her god from above, waving and wearing their signature smile, it was weirdly beautiful. As her sight became blurry and everything faded to white, she could've heard a "good luck!" Guess she'll never know. . .

~Back in the Real World~

Twizzly Gummy Cookie wakes up in the cold, taking a few moments to check herself and her surroundings; it's the mist of sunrise, and her gang was fast asleep. Taking some fully deserve breathes, she notices the time capsule still tight within her arms. She knew what to do. . . getting up off tree she was sleeping on and dashes in a forward direction, the time capsule still in her grasp. Running through the woods, Twizzly hadn't had the smallest idea of where the museum, "near your campsite" was all she heard; but running for a roughly a few minutes and getting some cardio in, Twizzly reach what she thought was the edge of the forest. Pushing through bushes and branches however, and there it was, the museum. Guess being an all seeing being had its perks. . . The museum was surrounded by a large crater, and rather fancy exterior, none of which interested her, she had mission to complete. Sliding down the small slope, she rushes to the museum's entrance, climbing its steps and arriving at its doorstep. At the door of the museum, and the valuable in her hands, it was too perfect, her goal almost complete. . .

But, actually going to place on the ground, there was a part of her, that stupid part of her that wanted to keep it. . . It was clear she didn't fully agree nor was happy with the timekeeper's plan, getting rid of the time capsule, was like destroying a friendship bracelet. There had to another way out of it, but she knew that keeping it would be disobeying the timekeeper's wishes, and she was so close. Her two ideas start a war in her mind, inserting dominance of which she should execute, 'obeying her god' was winning. . .

She was left frozen for what felt like weeks, till she was abruptly woken by the sound of feet steps a few feet away, someone was coming. With the timekeeper's plan raining victorious in her head, Twizzly places the time capsule on the ground, dashing back into the forest and cuddling with the bushes. Walking up the path was the museum's owner, he wore a black coat and a monocle, but had long, blond hair, easily can be mistaken for a woman from afar. He carries a few bags and holds several paper, possible potential for new exhibits, it was clear as day that this museum was his pride and joy. "Hello, old friend~" He said proudly, looking up at the building, climbing up the steps and arriving at the doors. "Though I've been gone for some time," he exclaimed, pulling a key out of his coat pocket, "your doors will be ready to reopen once more!" At that moment, he didn't notice the time capsule sitting by the door, Twizzly watched with intensity. She didn't care about the owner, nor the fact he was talking to a building, all she cared about at that time was if he'd acknowledged it or not

And maybe if he didn't notice, she could. . . "Oh, hello there-" He said, finally looking down on ground, catching a glimpse of the time capsule. Twizzly stared wide-eyed, as well as taking slight breathe of relief, almost thinking that she was caught. Curious, he crouches to the ground and picks up the valuable before him, feeling it in his hands. "You look to be some sort of antique," He said, adjusting his monocle, "but such smooth design. . ." He admires the object in his hands, enthralled and riddled with questions. Watching it all play out, Twizzly is stricked by several emotions, more notably jealousy, she should one holding the time capsule, and only her. "Where did you even?-" He questioned before being cut off, the time capsule had once more began to whined automatically, playing its lulling melody and hypothesizing the museum's owner. If it isn't enough, that same yellow glow shone from his eyes as it did Twizzly's

"Yes. . . I suppose we have room for, one more exhibit. . ." He said calmly, under some sort of spell. Getting up from the ground, the owner unlocks and opens the door to the museum, entering and closing the doors behind him. Twizzly watches with sadness as the time capsule get tooken away from her, one second in her hands, another, gone forever. . . Walking back to her camp, she's once more invaded with thoughts, she didn't get it, 'why get rid of the thing that brought so much?' and 'you should've kept it. . .' all swarming her head like flies going after moldy trash. But the worse was having to explain to her crew that she got rid of the things she was pervious screaming at them about, perhaps she could lie. . . There had to some sort of meaning to the timekeeper's plan, there had to be. . .

Cause there isn't, she's purposely placed on thin ice. . .

[next-autopsy]

My ocs face claims for my band of brothers fic: Made of Glass! One or two or all of them might be in the the next chapter and Idk about y’all but I love visuals and I’m ridiculously extra so I’ll do lots of shit like this. I noticed some of the women are better know with a different hair colour eg abigail cowen is typically a redhead but for the story I want her blonde so I added a note to some of them just fyi

company- characters name- (face claim)

Able- Charlotte Ann McCoy (Alicia Vikander)

Baker- Elizabeth Lowell (Sarah Gadon, brunette)

Dog- Constance Carmichael (Abigail Cowen, blonde)

Easy- Bernadette Grace Coldwell (Lily James, brunette)

Fox- Lucille Jane Smith (Daisy Edgar-Jones)

George- Francesca Rossi (Lucy Boynton, brunette)

How- Harriet Huntington (Sophie Simnett)

Item- Blythe Aldridge (Annalise Basso)

All images found on Pinterest

[brainrotgobrrrr]

MY FIRST EVER FANFICTION!!!

[like-its-all-infinite]

I wrote something 🤷🏼‍♀️

This fic came to me from another fandom (just the general idea) and it wouldn’t leave my head until one day I didn’t have my phone to read fics so I put actual pen to actual paper and wrote it down. Almost 5 months later, with the help of a very very amazing beta, it’s published.

It’s a David and Patrick Soulmate and High School AU.

thank you to @a-noble-dragon for encouraging me to post it, both on Ao3 and here!

[acheemient]

If part 3 of 1941 is not "A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square" coming on the radio and Crowley standing from the table where they have been drinking wine and coming around to Aziraphale's side and offering his hand to Aziraphale to dance, and Aziraphale looking a bit wonderstruck and a bit delighted and taking Crowley's hand, and they slow dance, holding each other so close, and they look into each other's eyes, and Crowley whispers, "Angel," and he's looking at Aziraphale's lips with all the wanting in the universe written upon his eyes, and Aziraphale with a face that says he's never wanted anything more than to swallow Crowley whole so he can Keep him, and they lean in, and at the very last second, Aziraphale stops them and they are standing there breathing heavily with their foreheads pressed together, and Aziraphale whispers, "I want to; oh God, I want to," and Crowley whines and tries again, but Aziraphale pulls back but doesn't leave Crowley's arms, and says, "We can't," and Crowley looks like he's been slapped, and Aziraphale looks so heartbroken and says, "They almost caught us tonight, and they would have destroyed you" and then continues so quietly, like it's a secret, "I don't know what I would do if I lost you," and Crowley tries to protest saying they can be sneaky, they won't get caught, they can have this, together, and Aziraphale looks so sad and says, "Oh Crowley," and Crowley knows Aziraphale is so close to agreeing and so close to pulling away, and he whispers, "Please," and for a second Aziraphale looks like he is going to give in, but he can't put Crowley in danger, so he makes his face colder, and he steps out of Crowley's arms, even though it nearly kills him to do so, and he says, "Besides, you know Angels don't dance," and Crowley remembers himself says, "No I don't suppose they do," and he straightens up and puts his glasses on and pretends nothing happened and says, "Of course you're right," and they nod at each other and Crowley moves to leave the bookshop, and Aziraphale feels like he's about to lose something so precious that he will not be able to ever get back, so he calls "Crowley," and Crowley turns to look at him, and Aziraphale says, "Perhaps someday...," but he can't say what he really means (some day we can have that, someday we can be together how we want, someday I will stop pulling away), so he visually changes his mind and finishes with, "we can dine at the Ritz," and he prays to a God that he, in this moment, hates so, so much for keeping him from the demon he loves more than anything, that Crowley understands his true meaning, and Crowley looks like maybe he does and like maybe he still has hope, and he nods and says, "Stay safe, Angel," and Aziraphale nods back, and then Crowley leaves, and Aziraphale is left looking absolutely devastated and heartbroken and angry, truly angry, for the first time in his long and lonely existence that he has to be loyal to Her rather than to him, and he takes a moment, takes a breath, and walks silently over to the radio and turns up the volume on the song and closes his eyes and gives himself that moment to remember what it felt like to be held, to be loved, to imagine what saying yes would bring, then honestly what is even the point of all of this?

[sheerakk]

[kidovna]

Favourite fandom trope of the day: wisdom teeth removal

[alien-bluez]

Lark can't handle nice things, and as he says "always fucks it up."

Drew a scene from this fic here, please please go read it right now!

[faeriekit]

The Foster Mother

Now on ao3 and VHS release

There was, supposedly, someone waiting for him in the green sitting room.

“…Why?” Tim asked. Most of the usual suspects had already come by to give their “condolences”—former Drakes Industries investors, curious about the newly orphaned heir; fellow socialites, once again flocking in to give and receive sympathies for their “close friends, the Drakes”; gawkers come to see what they could scavenge off of a dead family’s home, never mind that their child was alive.

“She claims to know you, Master Tim,” Alfred offered, kettle in his hand. He spent a moment deciding between different two canisters of tea; a sign of possibly difficult future conversation. “Her interest in your father's estate seemed quite…minimal.”

…Alright.

Tim was still in his formalwear. Dissolving Drake Industries would take at least another year, and plenty of future hours cementing the future home of certain resources in their dissolution, but the outfit probably was more appropriate for whatever oncoming conversation that was about to ensue than his planned change into Dick’s old hoodie and board shorts.

Okay. Tim steeled himself. The self-determination…mostly worked. Whatever. He trudged up into the green sitting room from the kitchen with his usual introduction ready on his tongue.

And then Tim walked into the room.

And then Jazzy was there.

*

Tim had been three, and Miss Jasmine had been his had been his third nanny. He’d outgrown the wetnurse early on, and his second nanny had been dismissed, so although Miss Jasmine was the third nanny, she was first nanny Tim could consciously remember.

She’d had red hair. She’d been very gentle with him.

She got him up in the morning and put him to bed at night; for the first time, there had been someone who sat with him until he was asleep, reading all sorts of books his parents had left to engage him with as an early genius. Then, when those were over and done as promised to his parents, they got unauthorized books from the library: silly books with made-up words, dinosaur books, books about teddy bears and adventures around the world.

Tim hadn’t been allowed to travel the world. Tim hadn’t been allowed a teddy bear. His parents had thought it would encourage undue attachment.

(It had been the same reason he’d never been given a pacifier.)

Miss Jazz had given him a knitted bunny. She’d said her dad had made it especially for him.

The toy’s name was Bunny and Tim remembered him being very soft.

She didn’t smile all the time, but smiles were rewards that were easy to earn. He finished his meal and she smiled. He finished an educational puzzle and she smiled. He was quiet all through her phone call and she smiled, and answered all his questions once she was done.

Jazzy had been the first person in his life who was there all the time. She’d kissed his forehead after the bath and kissed his scraped knees; she’d carried him in his arms when he was tired and sometimes even when he wasn’t. His parents had wanted him to be independent, proactive, and not clingy, but Jazzy had been someone who he could run to from his bed when he’d had nightmares and someone he could cuddle on her lap with when he’d cried.

She was gone when he was seven. He didn’t remember why. His parents had probably never told him, but still; he'd assumed he'd have found out why eventually.

Jazzy looked the same right now as she looked in Tim’s memories, although she was likely no longer a college student at a nannying gig. Her red hair was pulled into a high bun, her dress modest and conservative from her neck to her ankles. There was a backpack beside her foot. She was sitting, one leg crossed over the other, on the high-backed loveseat in the green sitting room.

She looked up when he came in.

Tim. Stopped in his tracks.

It didn’t matter. Jazzy—Miss Jasmine stood up as soon as she saw him, eyes alight with worry. Foggy memories were swimming to the forefront of Tim’s brain. He couldn’t move.

“Tim?” Ja—Miss Jasmine asked, teal eyes raking over his frame. Tim froze where he was. He didn’t move, wide-eyed and terrified for no reason at all when Miss Jasmine got closer to him, at a distance that was more appropriate for a conversation.

She stood there. Watching him. It felt like his mother had just come home from her trips with Dad, and a ghost of old terror wafted through him as he waited for her to decide he’d done something wrong. Her voice got softer. Her eyes got softer. Why was Tim feeling so wrong-footed?? It was only a former staff person!

“Tim?” her voice was so gentle. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m—“

“M’s Jazz,” Tim croaked. Which. Wasn’t the level of formality he’d been going for, but better than Jazzy. He wasn’t a toddler anymore.

Miss Jasmine was so tall—honestly, was she taller than Bruce? She’d seemed insurmountable as a child; he hadn’t expected her height to truly be so statuesque as an adult.

(Or. Well. Almost an adult.)

She didn’t quite kneel down, but she did stoop lower, as if Tim was small and he needed to be on equal footing in order to have a serious conversation.

He could see all her freckles. Tim swallowed. It was too familiar. Everything about her was too familiar.

“You’re so big now,” Jazzy whispered, looking at his hair, his suit, his polished shoes. He didn’t feel it. “Oh, you’ve grown up so well.”

Thanks, Tim almost said. Something stopped him—something thick in his throat, to impassable to break through.

“I—“ he tried. He coughed. “Why…you… You’re here?”

Jazzy threw him an incredulous look, and then an incredibly wry one. “Well,” she drawled a little too primly, in the way that Alfred occasionally made obvious statements, “I’d think it obvious that when one’s parents have passed away, that those who care about you might come to check and see if you’re alright.”

Which. That didn’t make sense. Jazzy hadn’t come back for any other reason; she hadn’t come back for his mother’s funeral, nor when his father was injured publicly by a villain. Why start now?

“And,” Jazz added, seeing his visual confusion and distrust, “Your parents can’t exactly threaten me with a kidnapping charge for visiting you when they’re dead.” Pause. “Which I am sorry about. My condolences.”

Which. Whiplash. What a statement.

“Uh,” said Tim, who was rapidly losing control over the situation.

Jazzy stood again, and went back to her seat; she didn’t set herself down, though, as she only stooped to grab her backpack. “I am sorry for being unable to visit, although I really wanted to; you were at a very vulnerable age and had already moved into a class a year above you, and your parents should have been less hasty about replacing your main caretaker. The assassination attempts were unwarranted, but they did drive the point home that attempting contact was perhaps discouraged.”

“What,” said Tim. “Assassin what.”

“They were ninjas,” Jazzy offered, as if that was an answer. “Except the last one, which was a former marine. The point is that I do care about you, and wanted to ask if you had any idea where you’re going now that your parents are no longer…available guardians.”

Tim’s mouth opened. It closed.

Jazzy waited patiently.

“…How have you been?” Tim tried, resorting to a part of the script they hadn’t gone through yet.

Jazzy’s laugh was tired, but no less real. It was nothing like listening to his parents titter politely; he didn’t think Jazzy would even know how to fake a laugh. “Well, my brother told me that my former bosses had died, which was somewhat stressful. Otherwise, I’m pretty happy: I live with my brother and worked with him for the last few years. I was going to pursue medicine, but…well. The assassination attempts made it hard to interview for scholarships. I suppose that I could return to that now,” Jazzy mused, attention now elsewhere. She pulled the backpack off the floor and up into her grip. She opened it, and flipped through its contents. “How are you doing? I know that Wayne Manor fosters, but your parents were always rather…hands off. I thought the difference in levels of attention might be overwhelming.”

It was. Tim should be surprised how clearly she sees through him—

—But Jazzy used to watch him stim for almost a full hour after school, twisting Bunny’s arms back and forth until he could calm down. Seeing other people all day had been too much for him. Coming home from his parents’ parties had been similarly stressful.

She’d never been mad at him for it. She held him while he talked and stimmed and talked and talked and talked, and brushed his hair sometimes, or if it was very late and he was very young, helped him brush his teeth through all the medieval execution facts he could name.

“It is a lot to get used to,” Tim agreed quietly. He didn’t want to be ungrateful. He didn’t want to let on anyone about his plan to leave.

He had an out. The papers had already been filed; there was an actor waiting to play his uncle for a custody battle, ready for the fight.

Tim was ready to up and go. It was no hardship to leave all the good things here; anything beat making Bruce stick his fingers into Tim any deeper than they already were, compromising the dynamic they’d already established.

It was for the best.

“I can imagine,” Jazzy sympathized easily. “And I wanted to offer—well. I know there’s probably a lot of choices available to you, but my brother and I recently moved back to Gotham proper for the time being. He’s teaching astronomy courses at the university and I’m filing paperwork for Arkham patients. It’s not so privileged a home, but it’s quieter, and more central in town.”

…Tim’s heart skipped.

He. He couldn’t stop staring. Jazzy stared back at him, quiet and sure. Sure of what, Tim had no idea, but…

Why? Why would she want Tim? There was no way she would be able to get to his trust fund without his help, and he for sure knew better than to enable her ability to leech from him. The last time she’d known him, Tim had been a snot-nosed kid who cried all the time and couldn’t be normal for twenty consecutive minutes. His parents couldn’t even stand to be on the same hemisphere as him as a child. What appeal did this have for her?? What could having a teenager with severe baggage living in her house do for her?

And it’s not like there was any chance she knew he was Robin!

“Oh,” Jazzy suddenly interrupted. “I brought these for you, by the way. Your parents had tossed them out at various points; I’ve washed them since, of course.”

She handed him the backpack by the handle.

…Tim peeked inside.

On top was Bunny, still a washed-out faded sort of pink. He looked as fresh as he had the day when Tim’s parents had ”cleaned out” Tim’s nursery—in other words, a faded, a little gray, and slightly discolored from an old spaghetti stain. His button eyes were big and blue.

And beneath him were books that hadn’t passed his father’s muster as appropriately masculine reading material: The Velveteen Rabbit, with the cover a little scarred from a fierce attack of wet wipes. There’s A Monster at the End of This Book, with a goofy-looking Muppet on the cover, gold spine beat up beyond belief. Art Tim’s teacher at the time must have laminated and sent home; Tim’s dorky, crayon cat proved he would never make it as an artist, but attached to it was a photograph of a grinning boy with a bowl cut and a missing tooth.

Tim stared. There’d been purple marker on his hands and face. His grin looked…really bad, actually, like as if he was baring his teeth because he didn’t know how to smile. There was no formal grace there. Nothing to show the neighbors, nothing worth framing to put into the line of sight of the investors in the office.

Jazzy had kept it and brought it home with her. Jazzy had fished it out of the trash, and brought it with her to give back to him in Gotham.

It was crinkled like it’d been folded, over and over again. Further down in the bag was a crumpled certificate dedicated to “Timmy Drake, for: knowing a lot about octopi”, and a baby blanket Tim didn’t even remember. It had rocket ships on it. It looked as if someone had cut into it with scissors, although it had been obviously and brightly mended with red embroidery floss later on.

Jazzy had only been his nanny until Tim was seven. She had simply been gone one night, and Mom and Dad had been home for ten nights after without help before giving in and hiring Mrs. McIlvane and Mrs. Edith. Ms. Edith had never been so…permissive…with Tim as Jazzy had been.

Tim swallowed. He carefully put everything back into the backpack, unsure if he even wanted to keep it or not. It wasn’t like he could leave it here; he’d be gone, ideally, before the week was out. There was no point in taking it with him if he only planned to live with a stranger until he was eighteen.

“J…” Tim tried. He cut himself off before he could get too informal without prompting. “Miss Jasmine—“

“Just Jazz,” Jazzy corrected politely.

“—Why are you here?” Tim asked, ignoring how she’d technically already answered. He didn’t believe her. “What made my parents fire you?”

Jazzy’s expression turned…soft. Tim couldn’t look at her. Something horrible was welling with it, and he didn’t know how to cope.

“I’m here because I care about you,” Jazz repeated, and knelt beside him. She looked up into his face, and took his hand. Tim didn’t know why. He was practically an adult—he didn’t need this!

“And I was fired because your Mother overheard you calling me ‘Mommy’ on accident when you were tired. I suppose she was insulted, although I’d never know why; it’s not like she was ever home to bond with you in the first place.”

Tim’s throat closed. He missed his mom. He missed waiting up for his parents’ flight home, seeing their headlights outside the window, and knowing they’d bring home gifts from overseas. He missed using Mom’s perfume, and knowing he’d used more of the bottle sitting on her dressed than she ever had, but that it still smelled like her. He missed hearing his Dad telling all sorts of adventure stories and promises through the phone to be home for the holidays, even if Tim knew there was every chance he’d find some other way to spend the time back in Gotham.

And there was some small child in him who missed Jazzy, who hugged him and walked him to the library and made him soup from a can instead of fancy dinners and, who’d never needed to be waited for in the first place.

Tim looked at Jazzy’s round, freckled face.

He swallowed.

Tim moved out before the end of the week, as expected.

[lilyvines]

went down an ao3 rabbit hole and this is the first time in my life i’ve seen a dni against women

[starflungwaddledee]

from: @starflungwaddledee to: @post-it-notes7

message from santa: "happy holidays post-it-notes! 🎄🥳 i know you very politely only wished for a few modest things- characters high fiving, or struggling in christmas attire- but i hope you'll still enjoy this given that i kinda went the opposite direction entirely! i'm an enormous fan of your work and most times you post anything i wind up browsing your art tag from tip-to-tail in enraptured delight. as such, i thought it was only fair i give back something a little more significant in gratitude for all the joy your work has given me. i knew i wanted to do a comic, so i was thrilled you already had a whole storyverse for me to work from!! this scene seemed the most obvious choice (chapter 8 of "wishful thinking" on ao3) given that i enjoy a dramatic fight scene 😂 i tried to stick as beat-by-beat to the writing as i could and worked in as many details as possible; i hope it'll be fun to see it envisioned this way! merry christmas! ~starflung 🎀🔔 "

[giantkillerjack]

Me: hm, I want something to put on the TV as background noise... Huh. Looks like YouTube is recommending something called The Last Unicorn. That's perfect, it's probably some old shitty animation that has aged poorly! I can watch it ironically!

Me, 2 hours later as the credits roll: *crying, cheering, buying the book, composing the songs*

Me, 2 weeks later: So I have compiled all of the quotes from the book that I think could make good tattoos, and also, HOW HAVE I NEVER LEARNED ABOUT HOW THE LAST UNICORN FUCKING SLAPS??? This gay-ass little fairytale fed my soul! Watered my crops! Transed my gender! Can't believe I heard of this story from youtube recommendations, of all places!!

[bubonicc-writing]

The Rebound

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3194

Summary: It's been a long time since Cooper has felt a loving touch. Perhaps a little too long because he's not entirely sure what to do with you.

CW: Semi-slow burn, smut, P in V, creampies, loving on a crispy man who needs it real bad. Prob ooc because this is my first fallout/reader fic ever (sowwy)

Cooper was a hard man to break. Downright standoffish and a straight-up jackass. At least that was what he was like when you first met him. Charismatic, confident, an excellent shot, but god, was he a prick. That, though, you had gotten used to the longer you traveled together. As the months dragged on, that standoffishness started to shed from the Ghoul. 

It started with random small talk picking up between you two as you travel between settlements. For the first few months together, it was mostly silence or business talk traded between you. Who was the next bounty? Where were they last? Can you scavenge while I get intel? It was all just business. That was until one night, Cooper started making small talk between their travels. Then came the soft conversations by the fire when they settled for the night. Every week, the weight of that duster and those guns on his back seemed to lighten the more he talked to you. Then came the offered cantine of water on a scorching day. Already an out-of-the-ordinary gesture from him, more so because your cantine wasn’t empty and he was offering his for a sip.

You took it.

The small talk turned into jokes with hushed laughs between you. As Cooper drawled on, you watched him over the campfire's tip. The light it threw cast beautiful shadows along Cooper's features, and when that crooked ass grin warped his lips more and more, you felt a tinge in the center of your chest. A little candlelight flickering and quivering whenever he spoke in that long drawl. It blazed when his eyes flicked up at you, staring at you in a way that made it seem like he could see right through you. It was like he could see that candle burning just for him.

Now, when the two of you slept, you were no longer on opposite sides of the room. You both started to creep toward each other every night until you were only a few feet apart. Cooper never laid down when he slept. Instead, he leaned against the wall and semi-slouched. He’d tilt his hat downward until the brim hid his eyes. Finally, he would cross his legs and arms before drifting off. You, on the other hand, preferred your bedroll. While not much, it was still better than the barren floor or the questionable mattress they occasionally came across. 

Tonight, a storm was coming through, bringing billowing winds and harsh rain that pounded the roof of the abandoned gas station they had sheltered in. You had tried hours ago to sleep, but the chill from the wind crept between the broken boards and cracked windows. You tossed and turned for what felt like hours, unable to get warm in any position. You flopped over one more time, now facing where Cooper was slouched against a wall a good two feet from you. His brim was cast down, covering his eyes as usual, but from how still he was, you figured he had fallen asleep a while ago.

 Chewing your lip, you hesitated momentarily before scooting towards him and bridging the gap. Snuggling up against his hips and thighs, you sighed contently. He smelled of gunpowder and smoke, typical. Slumber tugged at your eyelids, and you finally drifted off within minutes.

A light sleeper for obvious reasons in this hellhole of a wasteland, Cooper had awoken the second you had touched his leg. He waited for you to settle before opening one eye halfway and staring down his brim at you. Studying your peaceful expression and how you pressed your nose into his thigh. Two rouge strands of your hair had fallen against your cheek, slightly curled at the tips.

A former version of himself would have shoved you away, telling you to git back to your side of the station. Except the current version of himself felt something swirling around in his chest. It was slightly uncomfortable but not all too unfamiliar.

It was a sensation he hadn’t felt for over a hundred years, something that longed for that little touch and craved so much more. It flopped around behind his ribcage, and he grits his teeth in annoyance.

Sighing and looking back down, he shifts gently. Bringing one hand down and outstretching two fingers, he tenderly brushes the hair strands behind your ear. With that, he recrosses his arms and sits back, eyes closing.

As the months continue, so do they, but Cooper is different at night. His expressions are somber, his eyes distant while he sharpens his knives. Deep in thought, sometimes it takes calling his name twice before he looks up at you.

“Coop, are you alright?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowed together in concern. You were annoyed when he smiled and chuckled softly, telling you he was peaches and cream. You didn’t push the matter and didn’t have to because he mentioned his daughter three nights later.

He spoke slowly, hesitantly, wondering if he should even be saying any of this to you in the first place. He wasn’t a vulnerable man, not anymore, anyway. 

He spoke, and you listened, night after night, as more pieces of the puzzle of this mystery man fell together. Under all those clothes and behind all those guns, Cooper was still just a man—an ordinary man.

“You’ll find her Coop,” Reaching over from where you were sitting at his side, you placed your hand on his wrist and gently squeezed it, “I know you will.” 

Cooper didn’t respond, but a smile so tiny it almost went missed curved the corners of his lips.

As you lay in your bedroll that night, you felt something shift against your front. Opening your tired eyes halfway, you watched through blurry vision as Cooper lay down next to you. His back was to you, but you scooted against his spine without a second thought. Resting your cheek between his shoulder blades, you closed your eyes again. 

Eventually, Cooper lay facing you. Without saying anything, he would hook your waist and tug you against his chest. Then, you would feel him resting his chin on your head. The first time he had done it, your face burned so hot you feared you might catch ablaze. If Cooper noticed, he didn’t say. No matter, you didn’t want him to stop, and you were sure he didn’t want you to, either. 

In truth, Cooper would be lying if he ever said he didn’t like the sensation of your small palms against his chest. He loved how you played with the buttons on his dirty shirt until you fell asleep.

Each night, you did the same thing, chest to chest, until finally, one night, you nuzzled your face into the nook of Cooper's neck. Soft and plump lips grazed across his scarred skin before placing a gentle kiss on Cooper’s jawline. 

Immediately, Cooper stiffened against you. You felt his fingers tracing lazy patterns on the small of your back pause. You heard him swallow suddenly, and your stomach sank as you expected him to push you away and scold you. 

Instead, Cooper cleared his throat and nestled his chin harder against the top of your head. 

Days in the wasteland dragged on usually, but the following days felt like an eternity since that night. Bounty after bounty, caps collected, and supplies scavenged, Cooper never once brought it up. Instead, he carried on as usual, which, in truth, made your heartache.

It was possible that even after all of this time, the candle he had ablaze in your chest was not mutually lit. 

What you didn’t know was that Cooper's heart had bounced out of his chest and into his throat that night. He didn’t think it was even possible for his cheeks to flush, but damn, they felt hot. It was alien; over 200 years of feeling the kiss of bullets, he had forgotten what a real one felt like. It was incredible but also terrifying.

 He had loved, and he had lost. 

The nights following the kiss, Cooper waited for you to make a move again, but you didn’t. You slept with your back to him and didn’t move when he pressed against you and draped an arm over your waist. After a few minutes, he felt your fingers intertwine with him in a gentle grip. 

The two of you stayed linked that night.

The following night, Cooper watched as you shrugged off your jacket and kicked off your boots, getting ready to sleep after a long day of tracking a bounty through the unforgiving sun. Reaching up, you released your hair from its loose bun and let your locks fall messily over your shoulders.

You half turned when you felt Cooper grab your hand. Watching him bring it to his lips, he kissed your palm and pressed your hand against his cheek.

The brim of his hat temporarily hid his eyes, but when he looked up at you, your heart fluttered. No words were exchanged as you slowly leaned forward, having to stand on your toes even to come close to his marred lips. Centimeters away, you paused, but Cooper filled the gap.

The first kiss was gentle, and your free hand came up to cup Cooper’s other cheek. When you broke away, it wasn’t for long. Reconnecting, your kisses became hungrier, and your hands on Cooper's cheeks drifted downward. Running over his neck, then his collar and chest. You worked your way down as he kissed you until you palmed at his groin.

“Wait,” Cooper pulled away suddenly, stepping back, “wait…fuck” He turned on his heels, pacing back and forth. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask, watching him shake his head and curse to himself. “Coop?”

Once he stopped pacing, he sighed and shook his head before glancing over his shoulder at you.

“I don’t think I have it in me no more, sweetheart.” He laughed softly at himself. 

“What do you mean?” Taking a step towards him, she watched as he finally turned to face her.

“It’s… been a long time. A really long time, sugar.” Too long, really, at least, that is what he thought anyway. Nobody had touched him like this since before the bombs. Nobody had loved him. The only thing he knew now was blood, bullets, and ass jerky.

“Coop,” You said softly, moving towards him and wrapping your arms around his towering frame, “let me take care of you for once.” There was silence before Cooper rested his chin atop your head and laughed. Slowly, his hands came up to rest on your hips, his thumbs dipping under the fabric of your shirt to rub at the soft skin there. 

Looking up, you place a chain of kisses along his jawline. Meanwhile, one of your hands pressed against his back snaked back to his front. There, you worked your way down again until you felt the subtle tent in his pants. You palmed it gently, drawing out soft groans from your Ghoul. He shifted in place, sliding his chin off your head and burying his face between the nook in your neck. His hips lean forward into your touch, and you purr at that.

“That’s it,” you whisper, working the top button until it pops. Next, you slide his zipper down and slide your hand inside. “I’ve got you.”

Upon grabbing his stiffening cock, you feel him tense against you, even sagging a little bit as you start to stroke. Your thumb rubs over his swollen head, spreading the generous amount of precum around. You feel it pulse against your palm, and you can’t help but smile when Copper’s breath stutters against your neck.

“Fuck darling,” He drawls, “You know how to drive a man mad.” Bringing his hands up from your hips, Cooper knots his fingers into the back of your shirt. It doesn’t take long to have him unraveling. You can feel his thighs trembling and his grip tightening the closer he gets to release. Like butter, he is melting and fast.

Each new noise you pull from him causes a feverish heat to swell over your form. Your stomach flips, and you feel your heat clench with desire. As much as you would like to keep your composure, you lean into him, pressing your forehead into his shoulder as you stroke faster and faster. 

The choked growl Cooper lets out is the only warning you get before hot fluid coats your palm and wrist. His hips lurch in your grip twice before he suddenly sags hard against your form. Finger still twisted in your shirt, he finally lets go and lets his arms swing heavily by his sides. His legs are like jelly, and it takes him a moment to stand up semi-straight, his hat slightly crooked. He looks drunk, his eyes glossy, that stupid ass grin you loved smeared across his lips.

“That good, huh?” Stepping back to give him a little breathing room, you pluck the first few buttons of your shirt open. Allowing your shirt to part and fall from your shoulders, your breasts become exposed. With your other hand, you reach down and open the first button of your pants.

“Well then,” You coo, “come on then bounty hunter.” You shimmy your pants and panties off, kicking them off to the side, leaving your form raw to his eyes. “Come and get it.”

There was no need to ask twice. Rushing forward, Cooper grabbed your hips and slammed your forms together. Your lips crashed together again and again, and you whined into his mouth, horribly needy. You didn’t doubt Cooper had seen the slick glistening on your inner thigh.

Pushing you backward, you allowed Cooper to guide you to your bedroll. Once close enough to it, he kicked his foot out, hooked his heel around your leg, and pulled it out from under you. As you fell backward, he fell with you, landing flat on his palms. Towering over you now, eyes ablaze as they drink in your beet red face and beautiful puffy pink breasts. 

“You’ve been wantin' this for a while, haven’t yah?” Lifting one of his hands and pressing it against your soft belly, he drags it down towards your heat. Without warning, he slides his middle and ring finger through your folds, running over your sensitive clit. You gasp, tossing your head back.

“Ngh! Fuck!” Looking up between your bodies, you watch as Cooper drags his fingers up and down over and over, teasing your swelling clit. “Fuck Coop, fuck!”

“Well,” He growls, “Who am I to keep a lady waitin'?” Without warning, his middle and ring finger coast downward and dip deep into your gushing cunt. The squeal that escapes your lips has Cooper chuckling. He presses deep into you, humming as your walls grip his digits. 

Burying himself knuckle deep over and over, a squelching noise is followed by each hand thrust. You lift and twist your hips from the intense waves of pleasure. Only when you feel Cooper withdraw his fingers do you flop down, panting harshly.

Through half-lidded and blurry eyes, you watch Cooper bring his hand between you. He inspects them before spreading his two fingers apart, a tendril of thick fluid connecting them.

“You get this wet for everybody else? Or just little o’l me?”

Turning your head away in embarrassment, you feel Cooper grip your chin and return your gaze to him. 

“Eyes on me.” He growls as he rolls his hips forward, running his stiff cock between your slick folds. The head bumps your clit, and for a moment, you think you see stars. Over and over again, he grinds against you, littering your chest with kisses in the meantime. 

When you finally feel him lean back and press his head against your opening, he hesitates. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper as you place your hand on his cheek and run your thumb over his cheekbone. “I’ve got you.” Sliding both arms around his neck, you gently tug him into your warm embrace. One hand rugs between his shoulder blades while your other rubs the back of his neck.

Allowing himself to lean forward, he nuzzles into the side of your neck before biting the soft flesh. 

Rolling his hips forward, he breaches and slides into you with ease. Gasping and choking out a soft cry, you feel him bury himself to his hilt. Hip connected to hip for a brief moment, he finally drags himself out. Rolling forward, the pase is slow, perhaps even loving, before your Ghoul gets hungry.

It doesn’t take long before your hips are slapping together. You can’t stop the sobs of pleasure that break past your lips with each sharp snap of his hips. Digging your nails into his shoulder blades, you feel your eyes cross when the head of his cock punches that sweet, sweet bundle of nerves.

“Oh fuck, Cooper!” Your back arches off of your bedroll, “F-fuck! I’m… I’m” The hot waves of pleasure radiating from your belly to your groin all the way down your trembling thighs to your toes are winding too tight. “I’m gonna cum!” 

He didn’t slow down and instead angled himself better to strike that little bundle of nerves that had your eyes rolling back. It took two hard hits before he felt your beck snap into a tight arch. He felt your chest bump hard against him, and your hips twisted to the right as your climate ripped you apart.

Head thrown back, mouth wide open, no sound came out of you as your climax held you prisoner.

Above, Cooper's thrusts started to become sloppy, losing their rhythm as your cunt clamped down on him spasmodically. As much as he tried to hold on, it had been too long, and you had felt too good.

Grunting hard into the side of your neck, you felt a warmth bloom in your groin as Cooper spilled everything he had left into you. He slammed your hips together, holding you in place and burying himself as deep as he could, pumping you full. The sensation had goosebumps blooming across your skin as your body finally deflated back down against the bedroll. 

With eyes half-lidded and glossy, you made out the foggy shape of Cooper still hunched over you, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. Every other breath was a soft wheeze. Sweat had beaded on his forehead, and a droplet fell and landed on your chest.

Leaning back and sliding himself from your heat, a thick flood of cum followed. You shivered at the sensation and watched as Cooper lowered himself against your form. Resting his head between your breasts, he inhaled sharply and sighed.

Lovingly, you stroked the back of his neck, enjoying the sensation of his hot breath against your breast.

Together, you lay like that while listening to the rain from a passing storm plink against the tin roof.

When you looked down, Cooper's eyes were closed, and his breathing had finally leveled. Letting your head fall back, you closed your own eyes and smiled.

For once, the wasteland was at peace.

[stillackerman]

postwar!levi x reader

You're preparing for the event, which requires formal clothes.

You're watching how Levi is trying to fix his white ascot. He's been fighting with that piece of fabric for a few minutes now, still not satisfied with the result. You can almost sense his frustration in the air. You always can. And you also know that he won't ask you for help. His pride will never allow him.

You're getting up from the chair and coming closer. You look at his mirror image, your eyes meet, and you smile a little before speaking:

“Let me help you.”

Levi doesn't say a word, but he turns to you, giving you a free hand. You focus on the task, and slowly take care of this, everything must be perfect, the way he likes it.

You feel his eyes on you, focused the same way on your beauty as you're on the ascot. You're almost blushing; even after all this time, his gaze makes you feel weak on your knees.

When you've done, you look at him, putting your hand on his cheek and tracing his scars with your thumb.

“You look really handsome,” you whisper.

“Tch...” You know Levi resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“I mean it!” You assure him, and to confirm it, you give him a sweet kiss. You feel how he relaxes at the touch of your lips.

And when you pull away, you see he's even more handsome than before. His skin gains some color, and he has happy sparkles in the eyes.

“We should go,” he says. “We can't be late.”

You nod. Levi takes the cane in one hand, and he gives you the free arm. You grab it, and both of you leave the room, looking like the most beautiful couple in the world.