#general streamer babbling

[gabessquishytum]

Throws this at you

So…Hob is a pretty fair known streamer, mostly he talks about history and related stuff, but the most relevant segment of his career is debunking those rituals you often see on the internet (like the bloody Mary etc. etc. etc.) so he basically put himself in reckless situations, since he likes to do them in secluded areas or abandoned places “for the spooky factor”, adding a bit of urban exploration into the mix for the stream to be more lively.

His followers send him rituals from all over the world and he does them, most clearly end up being him chatting all night, with nothing paranormal happening (maybe an encounter with strange people on the buildings he is in or some wild animals but never ghosts, demons or something beyond)

One of those days, he receives a mail with a very detailed one, it´s a bit more complex in the prep /materials it needs, but as per usual, he just goes with it.

After all, they are not even real! (What´s a few drops of blood now and then to fill a tiny flask before going to bed, or collecting stuff like sand in a very specific time of the day…)

Anyways, the day comes, this time he does it in his home, since in the text it was written it needed to be done in the place he goes to rest.

When he is finished with all steps…nothing happens, zero.

So, he calls it another win for him! and after an hour or two online he says his goodbyes and cuts the stream.

Stuff begins to get weird the moment he doesn’t upload or do streams in the next following weeks, the normal thing is to think that maybe he is busy with life, so he is going to prioritize that first, but it´s so uncharacteristic of him, because it´s not only the streaming that ceased, it´s also the social media, and Hob LOVES showing all the stuff he is making or just interacting with people in general (always the social butterfly)

By the time there is a ping of an impromptu stream on his channel, some months had already passed.

From the look of it, he seems like trotting in the middle of the night in an unknown location, the camera is just a blurry mess, mostly it´s just the footage of the pavement and the movement of his feet.  The moment he sees the stream is still working his face lights up.

To keep it short, only thing he missed that day was going to sleep for the ritual to be fulfilled, he says.

After that, things went south quickly.

At the beginning the typical light flickering or total blackouts, then it came the weird sounds whenever he was alone, which, he thought it was because of lack of sleep that made him see things, he adds that he hasn´t be able to get some rest since the day he did the ritual, hence the lack of social presence for the first few weeks. He continues saying that he truly believed to be that…until he saw it…or him…he is not quite sure how to catalogue THAT.

At this point people are just speculating it´s just one of those ARG´S.

So, the moment Hob begins to describe the being and babbles about investigating who send him that email with the ritual and saying how he wasn´t able to communicate to anybody until now, the stream cuts abruptly and the chat is 100% convinced it´s an ARG.

But…is it truly?

-🪀

Hob’s followers: I can't believe he pranked us all this time hehe

Hob, actually being haunted by an ancient sleep demon entity: P̷̨̡̢̢̢̢̛̬̲̲̠̬̼͔̖͇̞͙̼͍͉̘̤̠͎̥̉̌̈́̅̆̀̿̿̍͊̔̏̒̽́͂́̾̐̆̾́͘͜͜͝͝ļ̶̢͚͓͇͔̣̣̩̪͔͍̼̼̱̭̼̦͔̖̝͛̊̔͛́̀͛̇̊̒́ͅe̴̡̙̖̪̖͉̺̰͉͛ͅa̴̛̛̜̳̱͖͖̳̤͌̇͋̇̍̾̈́́̈́̉̑̈́̀̾̓͋̀̀͐͌̄̊͘ͅs̷̢̧̡̗̳̖͙̘̫̣͖̩̞̞̰̗͇̤̙̜͍͍̔̏̿̇̿͛͌͜ĕ̷̢̢͈̬̫̗̻̭̞̙̥̜̜̰̺͈̠̗͘ ̶̢̛̮̟̝̒̾̍̍͒̌͑̑̓͒̐̎̂͊́͗͑͘̕̚͘̕̕͠h̶̢͍̠͖̟͍̻̻͉̹̥̳̮̝̭̟̲̖̖̗̬̙̙̿̇͊̀̅͗̌̒̔̆͆͗̿͐̂̿͜͠ͅͅͅe̴̢̧̗͇̫̬̲͗̕l̴̛͙̭̱̳̮̅̓̉̊̕p̷̧̡̢̛͕͔̠̹̳̫͓̺̫̙̭͍̝͉̲̥͍̞̽̂̓͛̆̀̐̈́̽̋̀̎̈́͐̈́̉̆̍̊̆̚͝͝ ̵͔̬͕͈̈́̏́m̷̧͔̟͇̣̮̞̓̈́̈́̓̓͌̌̓́̀͌̌̽͆̂̑́̚͝͠e̸̛̝̩̪̟̟͚͎̱̗͊̈́̀̽̈͛̚̕͝ͅ

This is so great though. Hob summons this... thing and has a minor heart attack because the ritual actually WORKED and now there's this 8ft tall... guy? In his bedroom. And when Hob blows out the candles and stuff the guy is still there, and he's kind of flickery and staticy and Hob can't quite look at him properly because he feels like his eyes are going to start bleeding any minute.

So he goes out of the room hoping that this is all just a bad dream. and the guy/thing follows him. He just flickers into existence in Hob’s kitchen and stares at him expectantly. And at this point, Hob figures that he's definitely fucked up here and meddled with something real.

Meanwhile Dream is just waiting for the guy who summoned him to tell him what he wants. It doesn't really happen much but sometimes humans do ask him for a boon, but Hob is just shakily making a cup of tea and doesn't even seem to know what Dream is.

Which is pretty funny, as far as Dream is concerned. He decides he might hang around, take a little vacation here.

And he proceeds to break ALL of Hob’s recording equipment with his presence alone. The camera shatters very spectacularly. Hob is very much at the "what are you doing in my house????" stage while Dream looms in the corner like "I. Want. Waffles fries." He's having a great time winding Hob up. Teasing him. Flirting with him?

Anyway. Hob’s life is very weird, now.

[vvishes]

ORDER 001 !

you (an indie streamer), the xsoleil boys and nina met up for an off-collab cooking stream and the boys are pretending to not know how to cook so you can help them out !

ft. doppio dropscythe, hex haywire, ver vermillion x afab!reader (nina is there too)

99% sugar - added crack too ! this will generally be a fluffy and funny post. that 1% is for ver’s part btw.

warning - just ,, funny

a/n - thank you @lonelysimpfor2dmen for the dm request ! i had fun writing this , especially on ver’s part. i hope you enjoy it <3

i am writing for the vtuber’s persona and model, not for the real person behind the screen.

it was all quite random timing for the guys in xsoleil and nina to have an off-collab with you , but you did agree that it was one of the funniest experiences to ever occur in your life.

the stream was taken place in your apartment, and you started streaming as if it was a regular cooking stream — all on your own.

plenty of people started tuning in to your stream as you were explaining what you’d be cooking and that you were waiting for a delivery to arrive.

your chat was flooded with suspicion that you weren’t actually going to cook, and instead having food be delivered to your door, but little did they know they were absolutely incorrect.

the doorbell started ringing and it was audible for chat as well.

“oh, that must be the delivery. i’ll be right back, chat !” and you ran off to the door. the chat kept filling the chat box with joking remarks, and some were speculating a special guest.

It must be a burger..

SPECIAL GUEST IKZZZZ

👀👀👀👀👀👀

chat heard footsteps walking back to the stream setup however they didn’t hear the usual sweet voice from you. it was many voices, from something that would come out of a chaotic streamer. a voice then came up rather close, dangerously close to the mic and started babbling random words.

“hey guys, i hope you like.. don’t mind us joining the stream,” the voice mumbled in a calm, smooth tone. the chat started connecting the dots and realised that the voice was actually ver. so if ver was there, that must’ve meant that doppio and hex would’ve been there too.

XSOLEIL ??

TSKRR VER

VER OMGGG ‼️

a mature, feminine voice joined in the conversation. it was indeed fox mum, nina. chat became nothing but chaos as you and the others proceeded to explain what was going to happen during the stream.

DOPPIO DROPSCYTHE ;

doppio .. doesn’t actually know how to cook

so obviously he’s going to need help from you

and god , he was a mess

babbling heaps …

if you got mad at him he’d pout at you and give you puppy eyes

nina thinks it’s adorable of piopio to act like this

she senses things too

but of course , she won’t say that on stream

“…[name], how do you do this part of the recipe ..?”

you turn from the stovetop to face doppio who is pointing at the directions on the sheet of paper. your eyebrows furrow.

“don’t you think it’s quite self-explanatory, doppi ?” you asked, concerned for his lack of cooking skills.

hex walked up to doppio and snatched the piece of paper, reading the instruction carefully. “you don’t know how to seperate the egg yolk from the white ..?”

doppio’s face turned into a shade of tomato red as he slowly averts his gaze from hex. you start to pity him, so you ask nina to look after the stovetop as you go to assist him.

“alright, doppio, watch this. you see the egg ? crack it into the bowl.” you said, switching gazes from the egg to doppio. he looked quite hesitant at first, but after lightly smashing the egg a few times on the counter, he was able to successfully crack it into the bowl. an accomplished smile plastered on doppio’s face.

“yay, you did it, doppi !” you pat his shoulder a few times. chat had also been sending in praises and clapping emojis.

doppio looks at the next set of instructions and gulps. seperate the egg yolk.

you stare at him concerned, but you knew deep inside that he had some sort of potential.

“how do you seperate the egg yolk ?” doppio mumbled.

never mind then.

“alright, you see that egg yolk ? scoop it up, and you use your other hand and do it like this.” you follow the directions you just explained to doppio and the egg white slowly slipped in between your fingers. you placed the yolk in to the appropriate bowl and turn to doppio.

“ta daa ~” you said sarcastically.

“w— hey, not everyone is good at cooking !”

HEX HAYWIRE ;

okay.

we all know this man has super malewife skills

like bro , he can cook , clean

give this guy a maid dress too and he can do all those things in style !

tell him to like bake you a 3-tier cake and he probably would in a time span of like 2 hours (that is short for making a good quality cake)

but … his malewife skills disappeared.

they’re gone

for now at least but they’re gone !!!

everything was going so smoothly for the past 5 minutes of preparing and cooking, where did everything go downwards ? you knew yourself that he is a good cook, the perfect malewife even ! why was he asking how to do things now ?!

“hey, [name], what does this part of the instructions mean ?” hex asked, looking a bit too worried. you glared at him, eyes full of irritation. they dart to the instructions and you were in disbelief.

“you’re joking, aren’t you.”

“no, seriously ! i actually don’t know how to sauté onions !”

ver and nina slowly turned to hex in shock, and so did chat … virtually. you let out a big sigh and reluctantly head over to the stove.

“grab the butter, please.”

“what is butter ?”

everyone pauses. you felt like your eyes were going to pop out of their sockets.

nina chimes in, “hexy honey, where are your super malewife powers ?”

it wasn’t that audible, but ver was trying to keep in his laugh — he probably knew what was up.

“just get the damn butter, hex.” you said. hex awkwardly walked over to the fridge where the butter was and came back with a block of salted butter.

the rest of the stream was chaos.

VER VERMILLION ;

ver id say is also quite a decent cook

but then again , he wants to see if you can cook too !

he is so sneaky and cheeky about it too

do the right things for him , and he will give you headpats

if agency vtubers were allowed to show their faces , the chat would be spamming ‘tskr’ HEAPS

“[name], you shall receive headpats for helping me so nicely.”

you don’t care about the headpats , you just want ver to do things for himself ,,

“[naa~me] ! can you dice the onions for me ? i need to microwave this.” ver said in a rather polite voice. a hint of mischief could be heard from his tone, which caught on your suspicion.

“alright …” you reply. ver’s eyes glistened like those of a child as he sprinted towards you. catching you off guard, he started to ruffle your hair.

your cheeks turn into a pink-ish red hue as ver proceeded to pat your head. why is he doing this, you thought to yourself.

ver walked over to the microwave and added what ever ingredient he had to microwave.

still startled from the sudden contact, you start to cut the onions — and you started to understand why he gave the job to you.

“GOD, MY EYES STING !” hex started yelling from across the kitchen, and soon enough, everyone could feel the chemicals slowly waft in to their poor eyes. wretched screams filled the room as the nijisanji en members started tasting the bitter rawness of the onions.

but you ? you were in the most pain cutting those onions. man, you wished you declined the request but here you were, tearing up hysterically chop after chop, sending the chemicals straight into your eyeballs.

despite the tears rolling down his eyes, ver let out a soft giggle. he could see the frustration on your face and it satisfied him quite a lot.

“VER ! PLEASE CUT THESE ONIONS I’VE HAD ENOUGH !” you cried (literally), blubbering and begging for mercy — everyone was begging for mercy. but of course, ver wanted to relish the moment as you and the others slowly suffered from onions.

“VEEEER !” you cried even louder, almost a screech.

“no ! chat is enjoying this moment !” and yes, they were. half of them were laughing their asses off, balling their eyes out even ; and the second half, well, they were rather confused in the moment, but they did enjoy it.

© 2022 vvishes ┄ all rights reserved. do not copy, claim, or plagiarise my works. do not repost on other platforms. translations are only allowed with strict permissions.

[ryqoshay]

Putting on Hairs: Post Production - Ticket, Please

Primary Pairing: N/A Staring: A thief and some puppets Also Starring: Tsubasa, Anju, Erena Words: 654 Rating: T? AU: Theater, Monsters, Puppets, Tickets Time Frame: Sometime after the main story (?) Prompt: Puppet Content Warning: Puppets

---------

Author's Note: Bonus 2nd entry for the 19th

Summary: Someone enters without a ticket

---------

Ktchack!

The man flinched as bright lights suddenly snapped on. The Hell? His partner was supposed to have cut the power. And they hadn’t seen a generator when they cased the place earlier.

“Welcome! Welcome! One and all!” A cheery voice cried. “Step right up and get your tickets!”

Oh, some silly animatronic in a colorful ticket booth. He’d read about the theater putting on a children’s event, which apparently was ongoing.

“Uhm, excuse me, I don’t mean to be rude, but you need a ticket to enter.”

The man paused and turned. He shivered as his gaze found a pair of googly eyes staring directly into his sou… No. This was absurd. It was just a puppet. There was no place for a person to hide and work the stupid thing, so it was definitely automated. And there was probably some sensor somewhere that caught him moving past without a ticket.

“I ain’t got one.” He found himself grumbling.

“Oh dear…” The puppet’s voice gained a concerned tone. “They’re not going to like that…”

The man scoffed and pushed past a curtain. He just needed to meet up with his partner, find the ancient artifact or whatever they’d be hired to steal, and get the hell out of this creepy place.

What was that?

Movement just outside the beam of his flashlight. And… did he just hear laughter?

“I hear you entered without a ticket” A voice giggled next to his ear.

He spun. And caught a glimpse of button eyes and a stitched smile before it slipped out of the light.

“Won’t you please buy a ticket?” A different, deeper voice pleaded by his other ear.

This time a tuft of blue fur evaded his light.

From behind, he heard what he could only describe as tiny, padded feet running. He turned again and shown his light on a fast-approaching rag doll. It had the same face he thought he had seen a second ago, and… it was running… on the wall?

“I have a ticket for you!” The giggly voice declared as the doll held out a roll with a long streamer of tickets flailing behind.

“But there is a penalty for purchasing late.” The deeper voice intoned.

A mountain of shaggy blue fur shambled into view. Tickets sloughed out of the hairs as a giant paw reached for the man.

The man nearly dropped his flashlight as he spun and ran down the hall. He rounded a corner and came to a halt. The rag doll was somehow ahead of him, now approaching along the ceiling. And a twin beside it. He dodged into a nearby door, trying to ignore a growing chorus of cries about tickets. He slammed the door, locked it, turned, and…

There was his partner, wrapped head to toe in… tickets? The other man’s eyes widened, seeming to see something to his side.

The man turned.

Oh… hell…

“Ticket, please.” An infernal felt beast demanded as flaming tickets belched out of its mouth.

The man screamed.

---------

“About the break-in last night.” Tsubasa spoke to her friends in the car. “The police said the thieves kept babbling about living puppets and tickets.”

Anju smiled knowingly.

“Why can’t we just have a normal security system?” Erena groused.

“We work in a theater, my dear.” Anju replied. “Everyone who enters deserves a good show. Besides, we can’t let Phoby-chan and the opera phantoms have all the fun.”

“You make them sound like a band.”

Tsubasa chuckled at the reminder that a fallen angel’s familiar and a handful of century-old ghosts watched over the theater up the street.

“Anyway, thank you Anju.” She said. “But my contact at the precinct also mentioned that the thieves were hired for the job. Whoever employed them may make another attempt.”

Anju’s smile grew. “I shall anxiously await their arrival.”

“Just… don’t overdo it. Remember, no physical injuries, just SAN damage.”

“Of course.”

---------

Author's Note Continued: I had fun with this one. And I kinda wanna expand it a bit when I include it in the main story, even if it ends up stretching out the joke longer than some might find necessary.

Also, yes, the content warning is somewhat of a joke, but I do actually know people who are afraid of puppets, so...

[xmooncanary]

Oops, looks like tumblr bit a random chunk out of my Phil lore ask - it's supposed to say: "Father status varies depending on server/fanon but generally ranges anywhere from biological or adoptive father of one-to-three (Wilbur Soot, Tommyinnit, Technoblade) (order of most likely to be his kid. Semi-canon sibling order is generally Techno oldest and/or twins with Wilbur with Wilbur being the younger twin and then Tommy youngest) though sometimes more (usually Tubbo and Ranboo, who are almost always adopted. Philza specifically found Tubbo in a box). On the Dream SMP specifically he also has a canonical grandson through Wilbur (Fundy) (and adoptive grandson, the NPC Michael, through Tubbo and Ranboo) (…and adoptive great-grandkids through Fundy again)"

Anyways his hardcore streams are probably the best place to start with Phil, since they're super chill and there isn't much of a story to catch up on since it's not an RP world, just misc shenanigans and in-jokes that you can pick up pretty quickly. Origins SMP is also very fun and some of the other members do upload videos to youtube about it so you can probably use that to get an idea of what's going on. The major swaths of his DSMP character you can probably glean through the Sad-ist animations, but the Extremely Rough Overview is basically "Philza Minecraft, Wilbur's dad. Wilbur dies, he is sad. Lives with Techno, he is glad. Spawns withers with Techno, he is bad? Destroys a country. Half-adopts a half-enderman. Joins a book club. Niki Nihachu is there. Phil's basement is a Bleach reference, just like everything else about him. Big Wife."

Glad you enjoyed my silly Phil lore recap though! He is a very fun chill streamer. Quality bird man 10/10.

Oh!!! Fair fair :D thank you for the update!!!!!

I SUPER APPRECIATE THE LORE UPDATE!!!!!! I LOVE TALKING TO PEOPLE I WOULD PAY SOMEONE TO INFODUMP AT ME ABOUT MCYT LORE HAHAHAH

Thank you again!!! I'm gonna look some streams on after work tomorrow and vibe a little I think!!! I can see an (unofficial??) Vod channel so that reassures me hahahha

When streamers don't upload things it feels like such a barrier to entry (LOOKING @ U OLI IM SO GLAD I CAUGHT ALL THE EMPIRES VODS BEFORE THEY DISAPPEARED), esp bc my timezone means it's haaaard for me to catch a lot of streams (Jimmy streams at like 3am in my timezone usually for example 🥲)

STILL I AM BABBLING gonna put on some vibes n see how it goes!!!! Thank you!!! :]

[dyketubbo]

mcyt fans will be like "time to make fanwork of [insert cc] here!" *removes any signs of facial hair from the amab ccs* *gives them a thin straight nose regardless of if they have one* *straightens out curly/wavy hair* *adds curls to straight hair* *gives them an anime prettyboy chin* *defaults to masculine terms for the amab nonbinary ccs and feminine terms for the afab nonbinary ccs* *only uses one pronoun set for the multiple pronoun users* *darkens white ccs skin* *lightens the skin of brown ccs of color* *darkens the skin of pale and lightskinned ccs of color* *draws/describes faceless ccs without the items they use to hide their face and holds them to gross standards* *have never drawn accurate boobs in their life* *gives them either the figure of a stick or makes ccs weirdly ripped when they arent (while ignoring the actually fit ccs)* *feminizes george* *feminizes george* *feminizes george* *femini

[fyreb1rd]

fuck you, i’m generation loss-ing the streamers except i can’t draw so i’m writing it out—

Tubbo:

Our local “skeptic” who does not want happy go luck Aimsey anywhere near the tapes. He was actually best friends with Ranboo for years before everything happened, and Tubbo knows somethings wrong with the tapes from first hand encounter with them, and is the first to warn Ranboo, and the first to leave him behind. He holds a lot of guilt for not trying to stop Ranboo sooner, but he masks it by being snappy and blunt. He’s kind of seen as Ranboo’s foil, or he could also been seen as Ranboo’s challenger.

Aimsey:

The sunshine character, Aimsey is often seen as naive. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. They’re just a little emotional, and a bit of a people pleaser, and he tries to help Ranboo out of the tapes hold constantly but fails. Aimsey would fall into a few tropes, the all loving hero, conscience, or a loyalist. Aimsey would sacrifice it all to help Ranboo, until he learns the truth of the tapes, and has to turn to Tubbo for help in “fixing” Ranboo.

Tommy:

Ahaha, well. He’s another challenger to Ranboo, except he falls behind as Tubbo’s sidekick (but he’s not one dimensional) He’s our Big Fun, constantly babbling about and inviting people over to hang out. He uses the tapes as an excuse to get closer to Ranboo, and ends up wrapped up in Ranboo (and the tapes) manipulation, and falls for the lies. Even though he acts like a rebel, Tommy is more of a follower, mostly because of a deep rooted fear of abandonment. Fun.

Wilbur:

Your typical cool older brother who pulls through from a rebel side character to the anti-hero when he notices Tommy is being held under Ranboo’s thumb. Would be the meditator for Tubbo and Sneeg, and is a master at charisma. He’s able to lie his way out of anything, and would do anything— even die, for his baby brother. He’s led by emotions, and is more of a “speak before you think” person, but he’s also good at covering his tracks.

Sneegsnag (I had too):

He quit being a cop to become a lawyer, and is actually Ranboo’s family friend. He’s a confidant of Ranboo’s but is keeping tabs on him, even with his dis-trust of the law, he is a turncoat character. He butts heads with Tubbo quite often, as the two have their own ways of helping Ranboo, but gets along with the rest of the cast. He’d start as a side character, but through his meetings with Ranboo his plan to take him down is revealed, and he becomes the main “enemy.”

[darth-does-stuff]

mothers day time pals 

time to procrastinate on my school work B)

ok so dee

the guy goes all out cause he loves his mother

im talking breakfast in bed, doing all of the chores, making dinner, and generally just making this the most luxurious day for his mom

also his moms name is Aurora cause i like it

dee’s mom always tries her best for dee, so dee decided to do a switchy switch

dee uses this day as an excuse to spoil his mother lmao

aurora is very thankful and very amused

just sees this dee zooming through the house, the most concentrated look on his face

also dee bleps when concentrated/focused i dont make the rules

logan

this day is,,,complicated for him

even on the weekend, his parents arent really at home as their work calls them in usually

his mother tries to stay home, but she has to go to work most of the time

so, when she is able to get home, logan tries to do nice things for her, but also just spend quality time with her cause he doesnt get to do that normally

so its a very chill atmosphere when she is able to stay home

(lo’s mom’s name is Harper Lee Cain cause i love it and his dad’s name is Peter Cain) 

when she isnt able to stay home, lo is honestly kinda sad

not for himself, tho thats part of the reason, but because the day is supposed to be all about harper, but she doesnt get it cause she has work

and he sees all of his friends having fun with their mom and its kinda hard for him

sometimes his friends invite them to hang out because everybody's mom loves everyone in the crew, even if they are chaotic, so thats nice

so,,,he has very mixed emotions about this day, to say the least

geez im only 2 people in and its already a long post im scared for how many tags imma have to put smh

Pat

he and his siblings (and his older sister if she is able to make it back home) always collaborate together to make it the best day for their mom

 (ok imma make a separate post for everybody's names for siblings and parents cause god there is a lot)

its like what dee does, but way more chaotic cause there are little kids and not everything is gonna go to plan lmao

their dad also helps and makes it more chaotic 

like, streamers, balloons, pastries, confetti e v e r y w h e r e, it looks like a birthday party threw up on the Aella household

10/10 very fun, v random, v nonsensical, and its great

Virgil

its actually pretty chill there

he, his dad, and his brother all collaborate ofc, but they know that she doesnt like surprises 

so like, some brownies, gifts, a card, they make dinner, and thats about it

just very chill in general

their mom appreciates it

Ro and Re

oh

oh god

they go over the top

like

very over the top

take pats and multiply it by 100 and your almost there

confetti ankle high, a baby babbling on confused in their crib, a giant card, more confetti, gifts galore, streamers, more confetti, a cake like 3 tiers

their mother is,,,so so tired

but also very grateful and amused lmao

while the twins and their dad just grin, very proud of themselves

*chef’s kiss*

[emile-hides]

A Family Forms

This is nothing but self indulgent, but whatever. I’m writing my Squad family out in the Overwatch world, starting with my first child @nuetella-twin

I don’t know how many parts this will be, or when the next up date will happen, or anything like that. We’ll get there when we get there.

In which I become a father

My name is Emile, I’m technically what a normal human would call a mechanic, I like to consider myself a Doctor who specializes in Omnic care. And I’m very good at my job.

I work under Master Mondatta in Nepal, caring for the Omnic monks, and helping spread peace and love among Omnics and humans. It’s a mostly peaceful work.

Currently, we are working in Dorado, Mexico. Despite many attacks from a local gang, we continue to help any Omnics that come to our doors. I never turn down a patient.

“Dr. Hides...?” A timid voice pushes my office door. I was very thankful for the temporary work space I’d been provided.

I looked up from my work, sorting spare parts, and see an Omnic I’d treated just the other day, “Fran? Are you alright?” She sounded timid. Perhaps her arm was still malfunctioning?

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine..” She gripped a cloth lump close to her, glancing around the room, “Y-You are... Doctor? Yes?”

I stood up slowly, placing my hand on the table as I slowly circled it, “Not medically, no... Why do you ask?”

“A-Ah, I see...” She took a small step back, pressing her back to the door, listening for footsteps.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried. Omnics have attacked Master Mondatta and his followers before. “Fran..” I took a cautious step, “What are you holding...?”

She shifted her weight between her feet, shifting the cloth, “I-I found a... Y-You were the only human I could... I... W-Would it be a burden?”

Now curiosity set in. A burden? Found something she could only trust a human with? I walked to her, caution out the window, and gently reached for the cloth.

Fran held the little bundle with such care, allowing me to pull away the cover, finding the face of a baby. A human baby, no older than 4 months, sleeping and gingerly wrapped.

I found myself at a loss for words. Gingerly I took the little bundle, gently cradling their head. Could babies hold their heads up at this age? I didn’t remember, I never studied on humans.

“Where did....” Started a sentence, hushed and low. Though the words seased as the infant in my arms gently shifted, and luckily remained asleep.

“Someone handed it to Brother Mondatta during a meet and greet. I-It had a post-it... ‘Please take care of’... S-something.. It was sloppily written.” Fran started, rubbing her right arm, “Brother Mondatta asked me to take it to a local orphanage sense I know the area, b-but...”

She shifted, looking down at the baby with worry, “W-We don’t exactly... Ha-ave an orphanage of any kind here... Los Muertos typically picks up any unclaimed kids s-so...” She looks back to me, though I was still awe struck by the child in my arms.

“A baby...” I whispered, gently lifting the child, shifting their weight in my arms. Was I ready to be a parent? Did I know literally anything about parenthood?

No. No probably not. I lived on a mountain top surrounded by Omnic monks, I travel nearly every week far from home, my kitchen was nothing but snack food and microwavable meals. There was no local school system, no grocery, no parks or playgrounds or toy stores.

And yet, when our mission work ended, I found myself on a plane full of monks, holding a softly babbling infant they all adored fawning over. Master Mondatta was rather amused by this ending.

My home in Nepal wasn’t very large. The main floor was a small kitchen, and the rest was a general living room and a connected bathroom. The upstairs was two bedrooms, one of which was my own, the other currently unused. The attic was full of scrap and parts needed to do my work. And the basement belonged to my roommate; Cross.

Cross was a friend I had from America, back during the Omnic crisis, we’d been pen pals. They wanted to be a streamer, so when I moved to Nepal, I offered to take them with me, seeing as a village full of Omnics must have the best wi-fi connections possible. Plus, we’d get to hang out.

“I’m home.” I announced, kicking off my shoes at the doorway, much harder to do with a baby in your arms. “Cross? Are you recording?”

“No,” Cross answered from the kitchen, their voice indicating their mouth was full of chips, “Welcome back, anything cool happen?”

“Uh... well...” I shifted the baby in my arms, who was looking around, probably shocked by the climate change, “Define... Cool.”

“What do you mean define cool? Like anything interest...i..ng....” Their voice faded as they stepped from the kitchen, their eyes landing on the infant in my arms.

I smiled nervously, holding the child up a little higher to be level with my own face, “Y-Yeah, so uh... Pretty cool, huh??”

Cross blinked, cracked open their soda... and turned, walking away.

[avengerscompound]

Red Balloons

Red Balloons: A Captain America Fanfic

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  1274

Rating:  T

Square filled:@happystevebingo - Balloons, @buckybarnesbingo - Y3 Red, @star-spangled-bingo - father/daughter dance

Warnings:  None

Synopsis:  Bucky and Steve’s twins are having a birthday party.  The theme is red and there is some speculation as to why.

Red Balloons

The room was red.  Red streamers hung from the ceiling and ran along the walls.  The table clothes were red.  The party hats were red.  There were two men currently in the kitchen decorating a cake with red frosting and red sprinkles.  And right now you were in the process of covering the floor with bright red balloons.

It was the twin’s third birthday and when you’d asked them what they wanted for their party, they said red.  It was weird yes.  But no weirder than anything else about their lives.  Like, for example, the fact they had two dads and a mom.  Or the fact that their dads were both supersoldiers.  Or the fact that they were shaping up to both be affected by that same serum.  Or the fact that even though they were twins, they were also technically half-siblings.

So if they wanted red, was what they would get.

Bucky stuck his head out from the kitchen.  His hair was tied back behind his head, but a few stray strands fell around his face.  There was flour on his cheek and down the front of his apron and a stray glob of frosting on the corner of his mouth, which was now dyed a darker red than normal.  “How are you doing in here?”  He asked.

“Getting there.  My fingers are starting to bleed.”  You said.

“What seriously?”  Bucky asked, coming over and taking your hand and looking at it.  The skin around your nails had started to crack and peel from tying off balloon after balloon.  Bucky frowned and kissed the ends of your fingers.  “You want me to take over?”

“Aren’t you doing the cake?”  You asked, wiping the frosting from the corner of his mouth with your thumb and licking it clean.

Bucky chuckled and looked back toward the kitchen.  “Apparently I can bake the cake and mix the frosting but if I try and help decorate it, I get yelled at.”

You laughed.  “Sounds like Steve alright.”

Bucky flopped next to you and picked up a balloon.  “How long have we got?”  He asked.

You took out your phone.  “About twenty minutes.”

“Alright.  I’ll finish this if you bring out the party food.”  He said.

You left Bucky to the balloons and went into the kitchen.  Steve was deep in the zone, decorating the two cakes.  One was round and Steve had made it look like it was covered in red roses using the frosting.  The other was heart-shaped and Steve was currently covering it in shimmering red sprinkles.

“You know they’re three right?”  You asked as you went to the fridge.

“They’re my kids.  I want it to be perfect.”  He answered without looking up.

You stopped and moved up behind him, wrapping your arms around his small waist and kissing his shoulder.  “They’re going to love it.  Little weirdos wanted red.  Those are very red.”

“Red velvet even,”  Steve said.  “Bucky went extra.”

“Yeah, I know.”  You said.

He turned and kissed your cheek and you went back to what you were doing, taking out the party food from the fridge and setting it up in the living room.

It was closer to half an hour later when Clint, Laura, Tony, and Pepper showed up with all the kids.  You, Steve, and Bucky were all ready for them.  The balloons covered in the floor and when it opened, Rebecca, Sarah, Nathaniel, and Morgan ran in squealing and kicking them all up in the air.

“Wed!  Wed!”  Sarah and Rebecca shouted tossing them up in the air excitedly.

“Why are they so obsessed with Red?”  Clint asked, pushing some balloons off the couch and taking a seat.  He grabbed one of the mini pizzas off the plate on the coffee table.

“Why are you so obsessed with purple?”  Bucky teased.

“Why are you obsess...”

“Now, now,”  Tony said cutting Clint off.  “We all know that they’re obsessed with red because Uncle Tony is their favorite.  Isn’t that right, Morgoona?”  He tossed a balloon to Morgan who was chasing after Rebecca.  She stopped and punched it up into the sky full force.

“Yeah!”  She shouted.

“Go, Iron Man!”  Tony prompted.

“Go, Iron Man!”  Morgan echoed and went back to chasing the twins through the sea of balloons.

“How about we show you why the girls like red so much?”  You suggested.

“Why?  Have you got little mini Iron Man armor for them?”  Tony teased.  “And if so, where did you get them from so I know who to sue?”

“Not exactly.”  You replied.  “Steve?”

“I’m on it,”  Steve said getting out his phone and clicking around on it.

A low cord played out and a female voice sung ‘Hast du etwas Zeit für mich, dann singe ich ein Lied für dich, bon neunundneunzig Luftballons.’

The girls both stopped and their eyes lit up.  As the slow opening flowed into the synthesizer they started to bounce on the spot clapping their hands.

“Daddy!”  Sarah squealed and the lyrics started up.  Both girls explode with excitement.  They started dancing around like crazy and then they each slammed into a different father’s legs.  Bucky and Steve scooped them up.  Bucky with Sarah.  Steve with Rebecca.

“Darum schickte ein, general 'Ne Fliegerstaffel hinterher Alarm zu geben, wenn's so wär, dabei waren dort am, horizont Nur neunundneunzig Luftballons.”  Bucky sang along perfectly as he danced with an over-excitable Sarah trying to keep up but just babbling words that vaguely sounded similar to the German lyrics.

Steve was singing as he danced with Rebecca, but unlike Bucky, he was translating the song into English.  “99 Decision Street, 99 ministers meet. To worry, worry, super-scurry. Call out the troops now in a hurry.  This is what we've waited for.  This is it, boys, this is war! The President is on the line, as 99 red balloons go by.”  He sang as Rebecca giggled and wriggled in his arms.

Tony, Pepper, Clint, and Laura both started laughing as the other littler kids started dancing around like crazy too.  Morgan ran over to Tony and started tugging on his hands until he got up and started dancing too.  Clint got up and picked Nathaniel up and flipped him upside down while he danced with the little boy, and Nathaniel squealed in delight.

“How did the even discover this song?”  Pepper asked, her face a picture of delight as she watched the men dance with their children and balloons flew up around them.

“They were playing 80s songs on the radio and it came on and as soon as it got to the more pop bit, and it was instantaneous.  They went off.  So we downloaded it and play it and it’s always like this.  We got the English version by Goldfinger too, but they like this one better.  Steve always sings it in English, and Bucky in German.  That’s who they know it’s red.”

“I think we’ve found a song to play at home, hey Lila?”  Laura asked.

Lila chuckled softly and nodded.  “I guess so, mom.”  She said.

The song came to its end and the girls bounced in their fathers’ arms.  “Again.  Wed, wed!”

“How about,”  Steve suggested.  “We have cake now and the song after.”

“Cake!”  Sarah yelled and squirmed in Bucky’s arms.

Bucky and Steve put the girls down on the ground.  The girls were bouncing excitedly and neither Bucky or Steve seemed to be able to stop smiling.  You got it.  Each of these milestones was important to them.  To see the girls reach them and be so happy, they’d give them all the red balloons in the world.

[paigenotblank]

Accidentally Ours (4/7)

Pairing: Tenth Doctor x Rose Tyler

Rating: Teen

Written for a prompt for Ten x Rose kid fic/family fic where they adopt kids left orphans that they meet on their travels / and also a prompt for Ten x Rose with a mix of adopted and biological kids (@tinyconfusion​). Tagging @doctorroseprompts​ and @timepetalscollective​ which I think both had those prompts.

Trope: Accidental Baby Acquisition

Warnings: Kid Fic/ Baby Fic/ Pregnancy Fic

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7

AO3 / TS

Rose leaned against the back of Jackie’s couch and hid her smile behind a steaming cuppa. The Doctor sat at the table next to Melody’s high chair and was trying to get her to eat sliced bananas or at the very least some banana flavored puff cereal. Their daughter though was more interested in sharing with her father - not that the Doctor was complaining too much. She brought another piece of banana up to his mouth and pressed it against his lips until he opened them. “Eeeeat. Yum.”

The Doctor chewed the banana. “Yummy, but Melody needs to eat too, not just Daddy.”

Melody squealed, “Nana! Good!”

The Doctor beamed at his little girl. “That’s right! Oh, Rose she’s brilliant. Bananas are good!”

The little girl slammed her fist onto the tray sending cereal and banana flying. “Nana! Nana! Good!”

“Mum!” Rose put her mug down and rushed to help her mother who was carrying a large box and several shopping bags into the flat.

“Nana!” Melody cried joyfully and clapped her hands.

Jackie put her bags on the table and kissed Melody on the top of her head. “How’s my sweet girl? Being good for mummy and daddy?”

“Good. Nana. Good.”

The Doctor pouted. “Oh.”

“Mum, what’s all this?” Rose slid the box onto the table.

“For Melody’s birthday.” Jackie

Rose opened the lid and saw a large cake with ‘Happy 1st Birthday, Melody’ written across the frosting. “This is huge. We don’t need such a big cake.”

“I may have invited a few people over for Melody’s birthday dinner.”

“Mum!”

Jackie looked through her purchases and picked up the majority of the bags. “Oh, Rose, it’s just a couple people. Melody only turns one once.”

“We discussed this.”

“I've got to get dinner started. That bag there has some decorations. Make yourself useful. I told everyone 3 o’clock.” And with that, Jackie swanned off into the kitchen.

Rose clenched her fists and counted to ten. The Doctor came up from behind and ran his hands down her arms. “It’ll be alright, Rose.”

She spun around. “How can you say that? You know it’s gonna be hard enough when...without other people knowing about her and asking questions.”

He sighed. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“How are you so okay with this?”

“I’m not. Not really. I know this is probably a huge mistake.” He ran his hand through his hair. “But there’s also a part of me that wants to stand on the rooftop and shout about how much I love you and Melody to anyone who’ll listen, and that’s the part that’s got me wanting to show off our amazing daughter to all of Jackie’s friends at her very own first birthday party.”

Rose’s heart skipped a beat. He told her in a million little ways everyday, but he didn't say the words often. So when he did, she cherished it. “Yeah?”

He drew her against him and his eyes darted to her lips. “Yes,” he said right before leaning down to kiss her.

Melody’s giggle had them separating and glancing at her. She had banana mush on her cheek and was stuffing cereal into her mouth. The Doctor laughed. “You want to decorate or get the messy madam cleaned up?”

“I’ll give her a bath. Think I’ll change too, while I'm at it.”

Rose helped Melody finish eating and then lifted her out of the high chair. “Let’s go get you all clean, and then do you wanna wear that pretty dress Nana bought for you?”

“Peeek?”

“Yup. The pink one.”

Melody squealed happily and then shifted to look over Rose’s shoulder. She opened and closed her hand. “Bye bye, Da!”

The Doctor paused in his decorating and grinned widely. “I’ll see you soon, sweetie.”

Melody turned in Rose’s arms and started babbling away in baby talk.

The Doctor watched them disappear into Rose’s old room and he went back to hanging the birthday banner.

Just as he finished with the last strand of streamers, there was a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it!” Jackie rushed out of the kitchen, and called over her shoulder to him, “Oi! Make yourself useful and bring out the food.”

The Doctor grumbled, “Useful. What’s she think I’ve been doing the last hour,” but did as she asked. His eyebrows shot up when he saw the trays and trays of food in the kitchen. A few people? He picked up two serving plates filled to the brim with hors d’oeuvres and brought them into the other room.

An older gentleman with a cane, the first to arrive, walked up to the Doctor and looked him up and down. “You Rose’s bloke?”

The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck and then stuck his hand out to shake. “Erm, yes. I’m the Doctor.”

The old man’s eyes narrowed. “Doctor, eh? And what are your intentions toward my grandniece?”

“I don’t know. Who’s your grandniece?”

“Rose. Are you gonna make an honest woman of her?”

“Honest? Rose doesn't generally lie about things. I mean there was that one time when we were on Castrollux, but really that was a matter of life and death and it was just a little fib-”

“Marriage, you plum.” The old man rolled his eyes so hard, the Doctor felt a bit of concern for him. “How did you pass your exams to become a doctor? You’re an idiot.”

“Oi!”

“Are you planning on marrying my little Rosie?”

“Oh. Eh, we sort of…well, erm, it’s just, uh…” His eyes darted around the room and landed on the door to the kitchen. “I’ve got to get the rest of the food for Jackie.” The Doctor brushed past the elderly man and took refuge away from prying relatives. He dreaded going back out there, so he grabbed a handful of nibbles and waited, listening for Rose. The number of voices that were coming from the lounge grew and grew, but he still didn't hear the only one he wanted.

He grabbed another of the dwindling supply of puff pastry when the door swung open and Rose stuck her head in. “There you are.”

She walked into the room and examined the trays of food on the countertop. “Why’re you hiding in here?” She popped a cheese straw in her mouth and watched the Doctor fidget.

He looked everywhere but at her. “Er, there’s an older man with a cane out there…”

She let out a surprised laugh. “You’re hiding from Uncle Tony?”

The Doctor took a breath and nodded.

“And what’s he done that’s got you in here eatin’ all the nibbles?”

“He asked if I planned to marry you…”

“Ah.”

“I imagine he meant on Earth, in front of all your friends and family. Not that he said ‘on Earth,’ because really he probably doesn’t know that not on Earth is an option, but it was implied that he’d like to see you get married. And I doubt he’d count what we did on-”

“You done?”

The Doctor met her gaze. “I'm sure he’s not the only one who’s wondering.”

Rose took the Doctor’s hands. “Uncle Tony’s from a different generation. Don't let him bother you.”

“I'm not bothered! I just-”

“Of course not, but I'll stick close by and protect you from the pensioners asking uncomfortable questions all the same. Besides I’ll just have Mum tell him that we eloped when we were in Vegas.”

“We’ve never been to Las Vegas. Well, the one in Nevada at any rate.”

Rose shook her head and grabbed a tray. “Come on, lover boy, grab the other tray.”

He blushed and squeaked, “What?”

Rose’s laughter drew him back to the party.

--

“Well, I'm knackered.” Rose collapsed back onto the bed and tilted her head to look at the Doctor. He was already in his jimjams, with his sexy specs on, and was reading a ridiculously thick tome on some subject Rose had absolutely no interest in.

“Melody give you any trouble?”

“Nope, she was just as tired, plus battling the sugar crash from the two pieces of cake you fed her. She was asleep before I even closed the door.”

“Oh, good.” The Doctor went back to his book, but was distracted a few minutes later by Rose. By now, she’d normally be under the covers cuddled up to him, or instigating some other more pleasurable activities, but instead she was still laying with her feet dangling over the side of the bed, forehead scrunched in thought.

“Rose?”

“Hmm.”

“Is that something you want?”

She had his full attention now. “Is what something I want?”

“To get married.”

Her lip quirked. “Silly me, and here I thought I already was.”

“Well, we are in all the ways that matter, but we didn't have a wedding per se. There was no aisle or white dress. No friends or family to witness it.”

“We exchanged vows, made a commitment to each other. That’s enough for me.”

“Do...do you want a ring?”

Rose rolled onto her side to face the Doctor. “Is this about what Uncle Tony said earlier?”

“No, not really. I mean, he may have gotten me thinking about it, but I noticed all the subtle glances to your finger. A lot of people expected to see something there.”

“I don't care about what other people expect of us. I love what we have, our life. And you make me so, so happy. A stupid piece of paper or a bit of jewelry isn't gonna make me feel any differently.” Rose slid her hand into the Doctor’s.

“Oh.” The Doctor sounded almost disappointed.

Rose lifted herself up and studied his face. “Wait. Doctor, is that something you want?”

He scoffed. “No, course not. Time Lords didn’t wear outward signs of their marriages.”

“Okay...”

“But you’re not a Time Lord. You’re a human, and humans do wear symbols of their marriages. So I thought you might like a ring.”

“Humans exchange rings as symbols of their commitment to each other. I’d rather not wear one if it’s just for show or because it’s expected of me. If you want to exchange rings, that’s fine. I’d happily wear your ring, but if it makes you uncomfortable, I’d rather go without.” Rose shifted closer to the Doctor and snuggled against him.

He wrapped his arm around her and kissed the top of her head.

Rose ran her fingers over the lettering on the Doctor’s t-shirt and glanced at his face. “If Time Lords don’t wear any rings or things that like, do they do anything to commemorate their marriages?”

“Not really. Mostly they were political, so there would be a scroll or something that one might keep in the records room of the family home, but that’s about it.”

“No one ever married for love?”

“Not generally, no, perhaps affection. Time Lords didn’t do love.”

“You do love, and very well I might add, so you’ll forgive me if I have a hard time believing you’re the only Time Lord since the beginning of time to have ever felt the emotion. Even if you fought against it at first.”

A small smile pulled at his lips. “I suppose. My friend, Leela, married her husband for love.”

“See.”

“She was a human though. I...love marriages did happen, just very rarely. They...”

Rose waited for the Doctor to continue.

He sighed. “They say that in the early days of Gallifrey, before the Curse of Pythia and the looms, when Rassilon first ruled over the Time Lords, that the practice of bonding was still in favor.”

“An’ what’s that?”

“Well, basically it was a way for two telepaths to tie their minds together. All Time Lords had a superficial connection to each other, allowed us to identify friends and family after regenerating. But a marriage bond created a deeper connection. Allowed for communication across distances and a clearer sense of the other in their minds at all times.”

“Are only telepaths capable of bonding?”

His eyes snapped to Rose. “What do you mean?”

“Would we be able to bond?”

“Rose, there’s a reason it fell out of favor. To open yourself like that to another person. To share everything you are, all your secrets and insecurities. It…”

Rose pulled out of his embrace and laid back onto her pillow. “Sorry. I just though since you brought it up, and it’s a part of Time Lord culture, you might have wanted to...with me.”

“With…? No! It’s not that I wouldn’t want that, but you don’t understand what it would mean for you. You don’t just try it out. It is an unbreakable bond. You’d tie yourself… My head isn’t a very nice place. I’ve lived a long time and not all of it was nice.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“I’ve done and seen horrible things. I wiped out my own people! Do you know what I had to experience before I could bring myself to make that decision? I can’t protect you from that if we were to bond, and that’s if we can bond at all. I don’t know if it would even work with you being human.”

“I don’t want you to protect me from that. I want to share your burden. That’s what it means to love another person. I know we didn’t say traditional vows, but for better or worse, yeah? I won’t stop loving you because of what you’ve done in the past. I know what you did and I know it was an impossible choice. But you did what you always do - make the choices no one else will to save the universe. And I love you for that. More not less.”

“Rose.” Her name was ripped from his throat as he crushed her to him.

He held her so tightly she couldn’t move - his head buried in her neck, breathing wetly. She ran her hands over his back and murmured gentle assurances to him.

Finally he pulled back and wiped his eyes. “Sorry.”

She caressed his cheek and kissed him lightly. “We don’t need to decide anything now. Or change anything ever, but know I’m open to it, okay? I know you didn’t bring it up for no reason.”

He closed his eyes and nodded. “Rose Tyler.”

“Love you, too.”

Rose pulled the throw cover over the both of them and curled into his side. She was just drifting off when he asked, “So, eh, if you weren’t upset because of the whole wedding thing, what was it?”

“Hmm?”

“Earlier, when you got into bed. You looked...pensive.”

Rose groaned. “Leave it to you to distract me without knowing it and then remind me of what I wanted to forget.”

That pulled a little laugh from him. “What’s wrong?”

Rose bit her lip. “I’m worried. About you.”

“Me?”

“Future you. It’s been a year and we still have Melody. And don’t get me wrong, I am so thankful for every moment we get to spend with her. But I keep thinkin’ what if something happened to you and you can’t get back or…I don’t want to lose you.”

“I know the feeling. Don’t want to lose you either.” He pressed his lips to the side of her head. “Do you regret it?”

“What?”

“If something does happen to me in the future, well, we both said it could be either of us, but really I always thought it’d much more likely that I’d be losing you. Do you regret...” He gestured between them. “...this?”

Rose’s mouth fell open. “You still don’t get it. I love you, though you make it incredibly difficult sometimes. If we had a thousand years together, I would still wish for more. It will never be long enough. And to answer your idiotic question, no. I don’t regret us, you big bloody prat.” Rose hit him with her pillow and sniffed. “Do you?”

“This last year, well really, the last two years, five months, seven days since I grabbed the hand of a frightened blonde in the basement of a department store and told her to run, have been the happiest I’ve ever been in all my lives. I could never regret a moment of it.”

“Yeah?”

“I cherish every moment we have together and in the words of this completely brilliant woman I once knew, can’t remember her name right now, it’s ‘better with two.’”

“Shut up.” She laughed and wacked him in the arm.

“Though we might have to consider updating that, ‘cos it’s pretty amazing with three. No matter what happens, Rose, I’ll always be a better man because of you.”

“You make me better too.”

“We just have to take things one day at a time and treasure the time we do have together.”

“Yes, and face our future as a team. We’re stronger together.”

The Doctor pulled his shirt over his head and yanked Rose on top of him. They both needed the reminder that regardless of the future, they still had the present.

[megabadbunny]

No Place Like Hohm (2/8)

She didn’t want to give in to the Doctor’s manipulative tactics.

All the same, she had to admit she was curious about why he might be trying to manipulate her.

**

(Aka the obligatory post-GitF fic, for anyone else who ever wondered what might have taken place between a trip to France and an adventure in a parallel universe. Ten/Rose, all ages, full of angst, fluff, a pinch of romantic bickering, a dash of mutual pining, and a dollop of swashbuckling adventure!)

***

Ch 1 | Chapter 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8

Rose stared.

This was not home.

The landscape outside the TARDIS was utterly unfamiliar. Instead of the usual cracked asphalt and grey estate buildings and rubbish bins pushed up against graffitied walls, Rose found herself staring out at a colorful cobblestoned street, surrounded by the walls of a huge, sprawling ivory-white city. Its willowy tall structures sat stark against a jewel-blue morning sky, spires reaching and twisting into cotton clouds up above. Strung across ramparts and between walls, paper streamers and lanterns swayed gently in the breeze. Three moons glistened overhead, only just visible in the sunlight.

“What’s this?” Rose asked, turning to the Doctor. “This isn’t home.”

“Of course it is, what are you talking about?” the Doctor replied, leaning back against the TARDIS.

“What are you talking about?” Rose shot back.

“This is the planet Hohm.”

Rose blinked. “The planet?”

“Aww, yes, an alien planet!” said Mickey, stepping out of the TARDIS with a great grin on his face. His eyes grew huge, drinking in the sights all around them. “This is an actual alien planet, right? Tell me it’s an alien planet!”

“This, my incredibly perceptive Mr. Smith, is an alien planet!” the Doctor said happily, clapping Mickey on the back. “Or alien to you, anyway. I’m sure it’s rather domestic to everyone who calls it home. But don’t worry, we’ll blend right in. In addition to the native Hohmish (horse people, can’t miss ‘em), they’ve got a healthy blend of humans and humanoids here—you lot, really, you end up everywhere—even if a couple generations of species-mixing has given half the lot a bunch of tails and nictating membranes.”

“Nic-whatting what-what’s?” Mickey asked.

“The planet Hohm!” the Doctor continued, one hand sweeping wide in a gesture that encapsulated the city before them. “Seventh-largest planet in the Uraael cluster, about four-thousand years in your future.”

“Excellent,” Mickey breathed, his grin stretching impossibly wide.

“You’ve got to be joking,” Rose told the Doctor. “You said you’d take me home!”

“No, I said I would take you to Hohm,” the Doctor replied.

Rose glared at him.

“No place like it,” the Doctor said with a wink.

“Doctor,” Rose said through gritted teeth, “Take me back home. To my actual home. On Earth. In the Milky Way galaxy. Please.”

“Oh, come on. Where’s the fun in that?” the Doctor asked, looping an arm around Mickey. “Just look at Mr. Mickety-Mick here. It’s his first alien planet. We haven’t even done anything yet and already he’s having the time of his life! You don’t want to deprive him of that, do you?”

“So bring him back after you drop me off!”

“Yeah, but it’s never really the same, is it?” the Doctor argued, pulling his ear. “You know how it is, Rose. You step out of the TARDIS on a new planet for the first time, it’s sort of magical, isn’t it?”

He jostled Mickey, who was still drinking everything in with a face full of awe. “Isn’t it, Mickey?”

“Uh-huh,” Mickey said absentmindedly, because—as if on cue—people were starting to emerge from their homes in the city, venturing out to begin their day. And Rose had to admit, the scene was pretty spectacular: while many of the people looked human (or near enough, anyway), at least half of the crowd sported four legs, not two, and their bottom halves were, as the Doctor had said, decidedly horse-like.

“Holy hell, they’re centaurs,” Mickey said, gaping at the thickening crowd. “They’re real-life, honest-to-god centaurs!”

“Magic, indeed!” the Doctor said with a laugh.

Dozens of people filtered around them, and soon the streets were full of Hohmish people and humans alike, feet and hooves clattering over the cobblestones. The city-dwellers opened stores and set up streetside booths, tugged their children along in droves, trucked worktools and fruit and goods through the streets on rickety wooden carts. Soon, the sound of metal clanging on metal could be heard through the open doorways of blacksmiths’ shops, and vendors started extolling the virtues of their wares, waving flowers or bolts of cloth or joints of glistening meat in an effort to entice passersby. Greeting each other, haggling over prices, and generally hustling and bustling about, the people and their city reminded Rose very strongly of their recent trip to ancient Rome.

Rose felt the Doctor’s gaze on her, but he glanced away as soon as their eyes met, absorbing himself in the sights and sounds all around them.

What on earth was running through his head, Rose wondered?

The question dissipated into the ether the moment a pretty young woman approached them, shyly holding a flame-orange flower out in front of her. She extended the flower out to Mickey with a smile. Confused and delighted alike, Mickey reached out to accept the gift. “Thanks,” he said, and even if she hadn’t been staring right at him, Rose could tell from the warmth of his tone that a blush was creeping up his neck to his ears. The young woman merely ducked her head and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

Mickey turned back to Rose and the Doctor with a triumphant grin. “Pretty sweet, huh?”

“It’s definitely your color,” Rose teased him, despite herself.

Nodding, Mickey tucked the flower into his jacket-pocket, where it peered out proudly just under his lapel. “Yeah, it is!” he said, beaming.

“The Hohmish are well-known for their generosity and welcoming nature,” the Doctor said. “You sure you don’t want to stay for just a little bit, Rose? Sample some of that famous hospitality for yourself?”

“And maybe some of that beer, while we’re at it,” Mickey added, pointing at a tavern just down the street, where patrons drank tankards of something fizzy and blue. “Come on, Rose. It’s my first alien planet!”

“Yeah, Rose,” the Doctor echoed. “It’s his first alien planet!”

Rose hesitated. She wanted to go home. She really did. She needed some space, and a breath of fresh air, and a chance to really think about things; she wanted to see her mum, catch up with Shareen, snuggle into her old bed in her old room. And she didn’t want to give in to the Doctor’s manipulative tactics.

All the same, she had to admit she was curious about why he might be trying to manipulate her.

“One day,” she said grudgingly. “One day, and then I go back to the estate, for as long as I want. Okay?”

“Okay!” Mickey blurted before darting into the crowd.

“Okay?” Rose prompted the Doctor.

He nodded, a small but knowing smile playing across his face. “Okay.”

 ***

 He could get used to this traveling-through-time-and-space stuff, Mickey thought.

He wandered through the market along with Rose, the two of them listening to the Doctor as he babbled about this and that, listing off local history and customs and traditions and commerce and trade routes and the value and many uses of Uraalean ore and it was all rather quaint, wasn’t it, that the locals seemed so pleased with their modest lifestyles given the literal goldmine just beneath their feet? Whether or not the Doctor noticed the extent to which Mickey and Rose’s eyes had glazed over was anyone’s guess, but he perked up Mickey’s attention right away by pointing out a booth selling tiny white “concentration chips”—fantastic for defeating the final boss in a video game, the Doctor explained under his breath.

“Do they work?” Mickey asked, holding one of the chips up to the light of the sun.

“Indeed they do,” replied the Doctor, “if you don’t mind an aftertaste of spoiled cabbage.”

Mickey wrinkled his nose, and traded in his watch for a handful.

Strolling amongst the food stalls, Rose drew from her well of experience in otherworldly markets and helped Mickey pick and choose exotic treats to try. Mickey looked over baskets of golden-yellow berries and strings of brown and white bulbs and skewers of meat, sampled Hohmish candies and meat-pies and spiny green fruit and some kind of tuber slathered in gravy. Mickey and Rose shared a frothy beverage served out of a bumpy mottled husk, and all three companions tried some of the blue fizzy beer; Mickey was pleased to discover that it tasted vaguely of strawberries and mangoes.

“Like they had a delicious liquid baby together,” Mickey decided.

“Infinitely preferable to most other beers,” the Doctor agreed. “Especially what they served in ancient Egypt. Nasty stuff, you should try it sometime.”

After that, they stopped and watched a street performance, a mini-circus replete with jugglers and dancers and acrobats, all of them jumping and whirling, prancing and singing, their voices and faces young and beautiful and rich. The Doctor somehow procured some coins for Mickey to toss their way, and when he dropped the coins at their feet, more than one of the performers sent a flirtatious smile or wink in his direction, along with a smattering of orange flowers.

So the Hohmish people had good taste. Good to know.

“What do you know about this?” Mickey asked the Doctor, brandishing a poster at him. He pointed to the spear-wielding figures on the front, to the dragonlike creature hovering menacingly over them.

Eyebrow piqued, the Doctor slipped on his spectacles, examining the poster. “It’s a championship,” he explained. “Sort of like Hohm’s version of the Olympics, but anyone can participate. It’s essentially an excuse for a bunch of people to beat each other over the head with sticks and swords.”

“So like a tournament.”

“Exactly like a tournament,” the Doctor replied, pocketing his spectacles. “Why do you ask?”

“Why do you think? We should go to it!” Mickey said excitedly.

“Whatever for?”

Mickey pointed to the poster again. “Dragon. Do I need to say anything else?”

“Eh,” the Doctor said. “After your first half-dozen encounters with dragons, the novelty sort of wears off. Besides, they haven’t got dragons here. That’s just an illustrative hyperbole designed to sucker people into going.”

Grumping under his breath, Mickey stuck the poster back on the wall where he’d found it. “Bet there is so a dragon,” he mumbled, but Rose and the Doctor had already moved on.

Soon they stopped in a games-parlor, where dice rolled freely and smoke hung thick in the air. The room echoed with the sounds of whoops and cheers and stomping feet and hooves, a small crowd of onlookers clustered at the back to bet on two centaurs grappling each other by the shoulders and flanks. Mickey quickly grew bored of the wrestling match and opted to play cards instead, listening intently as the Doctor explained the rules of the local game. Neither Mickey nor Rose lasted very long—Mickey lost half of his concentration chips, to his dismay—but the Doctor fared quite well. He did so well, in fact, that he claimed much of the locals’ petty cash and any baubles they had in their pockets besides, and the three of them were chased out of the parlor amidst insults and shouts. Mickey and the Doctor laughed the whole time.

Rose didn’t laugh. She smiled, but it was less than genuine, her eyes a little duller than usual, and the longer the day wore on, the more she seemed to trail behind Mickey and the Doctor. Mickey was almost surprised that the Doctor didn’t say anything, but it was starting to feel like he and Rose were engaged in some strange silent battle to see who could ignore each other the longest, and Mickey wasn’t about to disrupt it. He only wished he’d brought along some popcorn for the show.

Still, Mickey couldn’t help but notice that just after he caught sight of Rose yawning, the Doctor was quick to arrange some transportation for them.

“They’re called ‘Herdbeasts.’ The Hohmish aren’t terribly clever with their nomenclature, are they?” said the Doctor, and the vendor shot him a dirty look.

The two Herdbeasts were huge, covered in coarse shaggy fur and adorned with giant horns curling around their ears. Riding the massive animals through town, Mickey, Rose, and the Doctor easily sat head and shoulders above everyone else. And, Mickey noted with huge satisfaction, Rose had chosen to ride with him, not the Doctor.

Oh, maybe Mickey Smith wasn’t as impressive as Mr. High-and-Mighty-Time-Lord over there, but he certainly wasn’t as big of an ass, either. He would never leave his friends behind just to snog some bird back in the bloody blooming Renaissance, no matter how rich or pretty she was. No, sir, he would not.

Leaning back, Mickey reveled in the warmth of the sun on his face. He loved this, the strange newness of everything, the tingling anticipation and excitement of it all. He drank in the headiness of scents unfamiliar and utterly alien, the smells of people and animals mingling with spices and perfumes and roasting meat, and he closed his eyes in satisfaction. Everything was going splendidly. He was on a fascinating planet, many pretty people continued to make eyes at him, and the Doctor was no better than anyone else, just as Mickey had been saying all along.

His I told you so dance was getting longer and longer by the minute.

 ***

 The Doctor protested that it wasn’t dancing in the strictest terms—at least, not in the way that Rose and Mickey were thinking—but Rose brightened when she saw the Temple of Dance, and besides, the Doctor was never one to refuse a new cultural experience for his companions. But he drew the line at being pulled onto the dance floor himself, and that was how he found himself bored out of his mind in a Hohmish temple booth, stuck in a room full of people, and yet, somehow, still utterly alone.

No, wait. He wasn’t alone. He was sitting opposite Mickey Smith, Idiot at Large, whose head and neck were adorned with wreaths of orange flowers, his person surrounded by several laughing young ladies, each of them latched onto his every word. It was far, far worse than being alone.

The Doctor ignored Mickey’s terrible jokes and even worse pick-up lines and watched the supplicants on the dance floor instead. Their bodies moved like flames, twist-jump-flickering about the place, hair and skin flashing gold in the lamplight. The dance was purely for tradition’s sake, hearkening back to the days when such things would have been offered in earnest to a local deity in exchange for favors, but it was pretty nonetheless, and if such gods had ever existed, they would surely be pleased. The Doctor turned to Rose to explain the meaning of the offering to her, but of course she wasn’t sitting next to him, she was dancing up there with the rest of them, picking up dance moves and accepting flowers from friendly locals.

Her eyes crinkled with laughter when she bumped into a centaur fellow and his human friend. They both returned the laugh and the three of them chatted as they danced.

“Uh-oh,” Mickey laughed from across the table. “Looks like someone’s moving in on your territory!”

“Sorry?” the Doctor asked.

“I said, looks like someone’s making a move on your girl!”

“I don’t know who or what you’re talking about,” the Doctor said, sparing Mickey a glance before turning back to Rose and her new friends.

“Right, so I guess it’s not working, then?” Mickey asked. He took a swig of ale from his tankard before passing it off to one of his admirers, who handed him a flower in return.

The Doctor arched an eyebrow at him in confusion. “Is what working?”

“Her plan. Is it working, or what? You gonna tell me Time Lords don’t get that way?”

The Doctor’s eyebrow arched even higher. “What way?”

“Oh, come on,” Mickey said, rolling his eyes. “You can’t honestly be that thick. You abandon her to go shag Frenchie, she goes dirty dancing with some alien pretty boys—it’s classic. Now you go after her, and the two of you make nice.”

He grew stern. “You do want to make nice, don’t you?”

“Good grief, but you’re just uttering a bunch of nonsense right now,” the Doctor laughed. He turned back to the dance floor to see Rose accepting a goblet of libations from her new centaur friend. Harmless stuff, he was sure.

“I’m serious, Doctor,” Mickey told him, looping an arm around one of his companions. “I know you think you’re all magnificent and a genius and The Best Thing That Ever Happened in the History of Ever, but even you won’t be able to keep Rose on the TARDIS if you don’t go over there and apologize to her.”

“Sorry, Mickey, but I still haven’t got the faintest clue what you’re on about.”

Mickey laughed. “You,” he said, his speech punctuated with a hearty guffaw, “are quite possibly the stupidest bloke I’ve ever met.”

The Doctor didn’t respond; he was too absorbed in watching Rose interact with her new friends. He didn’t see anything wrong with it. Yes, she seemed more animated and engaged than she had all day, and yes, she was smiling broadly, and yes, it did appear to be the smile she normally reserved for the Doctor, with her tongue poking out playfully between her teeth. But all of that was fine, nothing to worry about. It certainly didn’t concern him when the human fellow tucked a flower behind Rose’s ear, and it didn’t bother him at all when Rose placed the centaur’s hands on her hips. And when the centaur pecked a kiss on her cheek, the Doctor definitely did not glare.

“Now you’re getting it,” said Mickey, nodding.

“There’s no ‘it’ to get,” the Doctor replied, downing the last of his ale before he pushed up from the booth. “All the same,” he said, straightening his coat, “Probably best to go retrieve her, make it back to the TARDIS before nightfall.”

“Uh-huh,” Mickey’s voice drifted after him, heavy with sarcasm, but the Doctor ignored it. He pushed through the teeming mass of bodies, leaving apologies and excuses in his wake. He watched as a priestess handed Rose another pair of drinks; when Rose passed one over to the centaur bloke, his fingers briefly closed around hers on the cup.

Not that the Doctor cared. Because he didn’t.

“Rose,” he shouted over the noise, tapping her arm. She was laughing again, giggling at something the centaur had said, again, and she greeted the Doctor with a smile.

“Come dance with me!” she said, draping her hands over the Doctor’s shoulders.

He shook his head. “I was thinking we should head out, actually.”

“Why?”

“It’s getting late. We’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”

“You’ve got a time machine,” Rose pointed out, her hips swaying to the music. “We’ll be fine!”

When the Doctor didn’t immediately respond, Rose’s fingers wandered down his chest, flitting to his necktie. The Doctor froze, suddenly strangely warm and unable to move as Rose pulled herself closer.

“Dance with me,” she said again, softer this time.

The Doctor swallowed. Standing this close, he could count her eyelashes, see her pupils dilating in the low light, smell the sweet scent of wine on her lips. He could practically taste it.

(A little bold of her, wasn’t it? But maybe after their last few adventures…)

He cleared his throat. “I think Mickey’s ready to leave.”

“I think he’ll be all right,” Rose laughed.

Sighing, the Doctor slipped Rose’s hands off his necktie, wrapped his fingers around hers instead. “Come on,” he said, pulling. “Let’s just go.”

“Whoa there,” Rose’s centaur friend said, stepping in. “Getting a bit hands-on, are we?”

“No, sorry Geoffrynn, he’s all right—”

“I’m no more hands-on than anyone else in here,” the Doctor interrupted smoothly. “Only I generally don’t make a display of it for everyone to see.”

Rose’s brow furrowed. “You got a problem?” she half-laughed, half-challenged.

“Nope,” the Doctor replied, his voice easy and calm. “Just saying that you’ve made your point, and now it’s time to go.”

He started to walk away, pulling Rose after him, but she did not move.

“If he’s giving you trouble…” Geoffrynn started to say.

“Thanks, but I’m okay,” Rose told him with a winning smile; Geoffrynn shrugged and trotted away. When Rose turned back to the Doctor, the smile vanished from her face as if it had never been there. “What do you mean, I’ve made my point?”

“I understand that you’ve been experiencing some feelings of jealousy,” the Doctor explained patiently.

Rose’s eyes widened at that and her mouth fell open. Her cheeks and chest, already flushed from all of her dancing and laughing and drinking, flushed just a little bit more, growing pink all over. The Doctor decided to keep going, since this seemed to be a good indication that he was on the right track.

“This isn’t a criticism. Jealousy is a perfectly natural feeling. Two people, traveling together for a long time—it only makes sense that feelings of a certain nature would start to develop in one direction or another,” he continued. “And you can hardly be blamed; I’m rather fit this time around, after all. And my hair is quite magnificent, and I don’t half look good in a tight pair of trousers.”

“I don’t…” Rose said, but whatever it was she didn’t, her mouth couldn’t seem to elaborate.

“But you should know that you and your wellbeing are very important to me,” the Doctor assured her kindly. “As is always the case with my companions. So you don’t need to make an exhibit of yourself to get my attention.”

Rose’s mouth snapped shut and something flashed in her eyes.

“Now,” the Doctor said, pleased with himself for a situation well-handled. “Shall we?”

He tugged her hand again, only to feel her fingers go limp between his. Frowning, he looked down to see that she had let go of his hand, and was withdrawing hers entirely, curling it back to the safety of her own body. When he looked up again, the expression on Rose’s face startled him.

Ah. Anger. That was definitely anger. And a lot of it.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Rose snapped. “God, you really are an alien!”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Nothing! This—” Rose shouted as she gestured, causing several nearby dancers to jump in surprise, “—has got nothing to do with you. I just wanted to have a little fun, maybe have a drink!”

“Perhaps, but Mickey said—”

“Mickey, as you are always so eager to point out, is kind of an idiot sometimes,” Rose snapped. “The universe doesn’t always revolve around you, all right? And neither do I. Get over yourself!”

The Doctor tossed up both of his palms in an expression of surrender. “Clearly I misunderstood. I apologize.” He stepped away, shaking his head, uncertain of where he’d gone wrong.

“Unbelievable git,” he heard Rose mutter behind his back.

He stopped in his tracks. “Beg your pardon?” he asked, turning around.

Rose threw her hands in the air. “You can apologize for making a stupid assumption, but you can’t say you’re sorry for abandoning Mickey and me?”

“Abandoning? What are you talking about?”

Laughing, Rose shook her head. “Nothing,” she said. “It’s nothing! Let’s just sweep it under the rug and pretend it never happened. Just like we do with everything else!”

“All right,” the Doctor said, his temper rising. His hands clenched into fists, working to shut things down before he could erupt. “That’s fine with me.”

“All right, then!” Rose replied.

“Fine!” the Doctor said loudly.

“Great!” Rose added.

“Bloody marvelous!” the Doctor shouted.

The temple fell silent all around them. Even Mickey and his entourage had gone quiet, the women staring at them with open mouths and curious eyes, Mickey watching with a look of absolute glee. The Doctor fidgeted uncomfortably when he realized that they weren’t the only ones watching—all eyes had turned their way. He chanced a glance at Rose. She crossed her arms, suddenly very interested in something on the ground.

Eventually, blessedly, background noise began trickling back in, the temple refilling with the sounds of chatter and singing. Rose and the Doctor very carefully did not look at each other.

“Head on back to the TARDIS if you like,” Rose said after a moment. “I’m going to stay out for a bit.”

“Yes, I think I will. And you and Mickey are welcome to join me…” the Doctor said, gesturing halfheartedly, “…just whenever you want.”

“We will.” Rose looked up at him, fixing him with a hard stare. “And then you’re taking me home tomorrow.”

The Doctor drew in a deep breath. “If that’s what you want.”

“Seems like it’s what you want.”

The Doctor opened his mouth to argue—no, that wasn’t what he wanted, what in the galaxy would make her think that, surely she couldn’t be that stupid, surely she could see that he’d planned this whole thing just to—

He stopped himself. A petty little spark of pride had snuck up and seized his tongue, stealing his words from him.

“All right,” he said, and he started to walk away.

“Fine,” Rose replied, and she took a step too.

“Great,” the Doctor turned around to counter.

Rose whirled back around and marched right up to him. “Bloody marvelous,” she hissed in his face.

The two of them glared at each other. Both pairs of eyes narrowed.

Surprising. They could never usually hold each other’s gaze this long. But she wasn’t backing down, so neither would he.

After a moment, the Doctor was tempted to declare himself the winner of this unofficial little staring contest, because although Rose Tyler was a stubborn thing, she had developed quite the promising twitch in her cheek. But then, quite by accident, the Doctor blinked.

Rose smirked. The Doctor cursed his superior biology.

Each of them turned on their heel and stomped away.

***

Previous | Next 

[fortherisingsun]

The sun dipped below the horizon, the last lingering light of the dying day caressing the clouds into glorious streamers of fire. Already in the east the stars could be seen, glinting in the impossible blue-black of the darkening sky. The beach of the little inlet was full of people. Though voices were hushed, those gathered there under the dying light before the statue of old Liu Lang had a kind of restrained excitement about them; an energy that could not be fully contained. Lamps were already being lit, and the warm glow of tiny flames illuminated faces that belonged to every race to be found upon Azeroth. Aminas stood on the outskirts of the crowd, content to listen to the mingled murmur of voices blending with the gentle sound of the water as it met the sand of the strand, soft as a lover’s kiss. Behind them the night denizens of the Krasarang jungle were just now awakening, and the insistent buzz of calling insects punctuated the twilight. A voice rose then from a little way ahead, at the foot of the statue. Aminas knew the voice--he’d heard it raised in song many times, and Lorewalker Cho was as skilled at singing a story as he was speaking it. The words of the Pandaran tongue, at last no longer aliento Aminas, painted an irresistible picture of the intrepid and stubborn Liu Lang setting out to sea on the back of his amiable and long-suffering turtle: the two outlined against the slowly darkening sky, ripples throwing back the last glow of the day to the mist-protected land. The end of the song was marked by the enthusiastic combustion of several bright fireworks, and the gathered listeners gave a cheer. The crowd began to break up a little then, some heading to the barrels of Stormstout brew that were being generously tapped, some stepping away to inhale the feeling of the warm night air, others heading for the water’s edge with lit lanterns in their hands. Soon enough the water was spangled with small glowing lights, the bobbing lanterns a warmer reflection of the fires that burned above them in the vault of the heavens. Gently the flow took them, guiding them slowly from the hands of those who set them upon the face of the water, out to follow the memory of Liu Lang’s journey. Aminas seated himself upon the smooth sand, looking out at the expanse of the sea beyond the mouth of the lantern-spangled inlet. The babble of voices again quieted as others found themselves doing much the same, pausing in silence as their thoughts bobbed along in the warm wake of those little lights. Aminas was conscious of a feeling that he could not quite put into words. It was the same that left him mute with wonder on nights when the moon was full, with wind stirring the onion grass with a gentle hand. It was the same that arrested him mid-stride below the branches of trees laden with glorious clouds of pink blossoms in the spring, the same that gave his heart a twinge as those petals fell in great gentle flurries, like a snowstorm in may. As the lights diminished in the distance, lost to the night and the sea, the crowd also quietly scattered, each to their homes and tents and various errands. He still sat, arms clasped loosely about his knees, eyes on the vanished horizon. “Are you waiting for the turtle, Grandmaster?” The question was light, teasing--though it held a note of genuine inquiry. Aminas turned to smile up at Lorewalker Cho, gesturing at the sand beside him. “I’ve done enough wandering for ten lifetimes,” he answered with a soft laugh. “Over five continents and two different worlds. You’d think I’d had enough of it.” “Perhaps so,” Cho said placidly, settling himself next to Aminas with a grunt. “And some might say we are both getting too old for wandering, and for sitting on beaches. And yet--here we are.” “You will never be old, Lorewalker.” Aminas shook his head, still smiling. “You are as ageless as your stories. In a thousand years our great great great grandchildren will find you there in the Seat of Knowledge, telling the tales that must never be forgotten.” “Perhaps so,” Cho said with a chuckle. “But you did not answer my question, Grandmaster Aminas.” Aminas grimaced at the title, as he always did--and the Lorewalker did not miss the expression. “You must allow people to give you the respect you have earned,” he chided. “Even if you do not think you have earned it.” This particular argument was one Aminas had lost too many times to see any sense in reviving it. “You are right, as always.” He was smiling again, eyes straying back to the winking flashes of the last of the lanterns. “And--I don’t think so. The vagus in my heart is long settled. I found my home and my purpose, and I have no more need to wander in search of them. And yet--” He gestured at the sea, at the meeting of sky and horizon, his brows drawn. “There is something--a feeling. I don’t know how to describe it.” “Longing,” Lorewalker Cho said, his own gaze distant. “For something that you’re not even sure you’ve ever known; for a home you have never seen. A nostalgia for a world that may never have been.” “You too, Lorewalker?” Aminas could not keep the surprise from his voice, and Cho nodded. “I think many feel it, though some not so keenly as others. It is most felt at times like this; times of change, of endings and beginnings, and the evoking of things gone by. We are troubled and soothed by the bitter sweetness of mortality, of knowing that nothing is permanent. It is why we are silent, why we laugh--why we set little lights in the darkness to follow an impossible path into a night that is all sea and sky.” The two sat in silence for a long moment, their thoughts separately straying very far off into the long years. “It is also,” Cho said at last, his voice light, “why we finish off nights such as this with Stormstout’s best. Come Grandmaster--let us toast the Wanderers and bid the lights farewell.” They did just that: the Lorewalker and the Grandmaster joining a dozen others in the warm light of a bonfire to enjoy the sweetness of a time that would not, as all things cannot, endure.

[mcytagere]

Heck no, you talk about r!Wilbur all you want! Somewhere out there, there's a chart of all the dsmp members faces and all the little red strings lead to Wilbur XD.

Also, sorry for going off track, I'm hyped over shtern-and-art and their In the dark au rn. It's happy duo (the source of the majority of my streamer based joy XD) and it's a cryptid au and I'm gonna burst if I don't babble about it to someone, lmao.

It's so cute despite being about spooky forest spirits and changelings, content warning for stuff associated with cryptids because I mostly get invested in darker aus but this one is pretty sweet so far!! Forest boys for the win!!!

Now back on track XD. Here's a question I think you might like XD. Where do you think r!Wilbur's favourite places to be are and with who?

Also what are your fave things about cc!Wilbur?! I like how smart he is, especially with all his plane knowledge :O

~ ^_^

I think I will talk about r!Wilbur all I want, thank you for the permission dshadgsad. And I honestly have very little idea what you're talking about but your excitement is contagious so thank you for sharing!

And !! Wilbur things!!!!!! Wow wow wow I just like that man a whole lot, but a few of my favorite things that stand out? Okay yeah. List time.

How passionate he gets about the things he fixates on

How unapologetic he is about himself, especially because he has issues with social anxiety

How good he is with people in general, and how well he can get along and make good content with just about anyone he works with

How he's so good about asserting his boundaries without being mean about it

His hair

His face

His aesthetic

Oh my god he's so pretty

His gender

Wilbur

[dyketubbo]

ranboo really just starts streams shows symptoms and then ends like a feral animal finally let loose

[babbletop]

Let's take a look at 10 Facts You Might Not Know About Fortnite, the game that is quickly becoming the most popular game on the market right now. A joint venture between Epic Games, and People Can Fly, Fortnite is so popular that it's number one streamer, Tyler "Ninja" Blevins is suddenly the most popular streamer on platforms like Twitch. So, let's delve into the Top 10 THINGS YOU DON'T KNOW ABOUT FORTNITE! Some of these facts apply to the general game, while others are specifically about the Battle Royale version. Even if you know what Fortnite is, we still would like to explain what it is for those who are not yet familiar with this world. Fortnite is a co-op sandbox survival game developed by Epic Games and People Can Fly and published by Epic Games. It is an incredibly popular multi-platform video game, that is similar to pubg, more specifically a survival simulator released in 2017. In 2018, over 10 million people play it all over the world on multiple gaming platforms such Xbox One, Sony PlayStation, PC (Microsoft Windows), Mac (iOS), Android. Can you imagine this? Yes, it uses a very popular zombie theme, but without the gloom of "The Walking Dead" and other similar universes. So, there is nothing really surprising in the fact that the game has become so popular and every day it keeps gaining followers. But, like other games, Fortnite has secrets, which few people really know about. We have researched all over the Internet and are now ready to share our findings. So, in this video we're gonna tell you some factual Fortnite Highlights that we think you should know! If you Love Epic Games FORTNITE. Then comment #LoveFORTNITE Timeline: 0:56 Copycats are Coming 2:18 Fortnite is Always Changing 3:13 Battle Royale Might Have Saved Fortnite 4:06 Epic has a Full Separate Development Team Working on Battle Royale 5:04 The Game Used to be A LOT Creepier 5:58 The Game Design Used Pixar, Tim Burton and Looney Tunes as Inspiration 7:05 Almost had a PvP, Central Target, Base Building Mode 7:55 It has PlayerUnknown to Thank 8:56 Fortnite Will Be Free... But it’s Still Selling like Hotcakes 9:59 Fortnite is Coming to Your Mobile Device Still haven’t subscribed to Babble Top on YouTube? ►► https://goo.gl/Grh1Wg Top 10 Tyler 'Ninja' Blevins Facts You NEED TO KNOW! https://youtu.be/WGKIfiLwl3U Want to see our Most Popular Videos? Check them out here: https://youtu.be/-3c-V5K2p88 We are giving away an iPhone X. Our next goal is to hit 100,000 subs by our anniversary on May 10th 2018. Help us get there and one lucky Babbletop subscribers will win a brand spanking new iPhone X! To enter the draw, all you have to do is click on that subscribe button and comment on the following video https://youtu.be/lDcEk5bcdMM with #BabbleTopSilver. We’ll announce the winner once we hit 100,000 Subs!* To increase your chances of winning the Apple iPhone X giveaway, click the link: 📱🎁 http://bit.ly/2CnmhRg📱🎁 processed products never buy

[thepoemeater-blog]

One Christmastime Fats Waller in a fur coat Rolled beaming from a taxicab with two pretty girls   Each at an arm as he led them in a thick downy snowfall Across Thirty-Fourth Street into the busy crowd Shopping at Macy’s: perfume, holly, snowflake displays. Chimes rang for change. In Toys, where my mother worked Over her school vacation, the crowd swelled and stood Filling the aisles, whispered at the fringes, listening To the sounds of the large, gorgeously dressed man, His smile bemused and exalted, lips boom-booming a bold Bass line as he improvised on an expensive, tinkly Piano the size of a lady’s jewel box or a wedding cake. She put into my heart this scene from the romance of Joy, Co-authored by her and the movies, like her others– My father making the winning basket at the buzzer And punching the enraged gambler who came onto the court– The brilliant black and white of the movies, texture Of wet snowy fur, the taxi’s windshield, piano keys, Reflections that slid over the thick brass baton That worked the elevator. Happiness needs a setting: Shepherds and shepherdesses in the grass, kids in a store, The back room of Carly’s parents’ shop, record-player And paper streamers twisted in two colors: what I felt Dancing close one afternoon with a thin blonde girl Was my amazing good luck, the pleased erection Stretching and stretching at the idea She likes me, She likes it, the thought of legs under a woolen skirt, To see eyes “melting” so I could think This is it, They’re melting! Mutual arousal of suddenly feeling Desired: This is it: “desire”! When we came out Into the street we saw it had begun, the firm flakes Sticking, coating the tops of cars, melting on the wet Black street that reflected storelights, soft Separate crystals clinging intact on the nap of collar And cuff, swarms of them stalling in the wind to plunge Sideways and cluster in spangles on our hair and lashes, Melting to a fresh glaze on the bloodwarm porcelain Of our faces, Hey nonny-nonny boom-boom, the cold graceful Manna, heartfelt, falling and gathering copious As the air itself in the small-town main street As it fell over my mother’s imaginary and remembered Macy’s in New York years before I was even born, II And the little white piano, tinkling away like crazy– My unconceived heart in a way waiting somewhere like Wherever it goes in sleep. Later, my eyes opened And I woke up glad to feel the sunlight warm High up in the window, a brighter blue striping Blue folds of curtain, and glad to hear the house Was still sleeping. I didn’t call, but climbed up To balance my chest on the top rail, cheek Pressed close where I had grooved the rail’s varnish With sets of double tooth-lines. Clinging With both arms, I grunted, pulled one leg over And stretched it as my weight started to slip down With some panic till my toes found the bottom rail, Then let my weight slide more till I was over– Thrilled, half-scared, still hanging high up With both hands from the spindles. Then lower Slipping down until I could fall to the floor With a thud but not hurt, and out, free in the house. Then softly down the hall to the other bedroom To push against the door; and when it came open More light came in, opening out like a fan So they woke up and laughed, as she lifted me Up in between them under the dark red blanket, We all three laughing there because I climbed out myself. Earlier still, she held me curled in close With everyone around saying my name, and hovering, After my grandpa’s cigarette burned me on the neck As he held me up for the camera, and the pain buzzed Scaring me because it twisted right inside me; So when she took me and held me and I curled up, sucking, It was as if she had put me back together again So sweetly I was glad the hurt had torn me. She wanted to have made the whole world up, So that it could be hers to give. So she opened   A letter I wrote my sister, who was having trouble Getting on with her, and read some things about herself That made her go to the telephone and call me up: “You shouldn’t open other people’s letters,” I said And she said “Yes–who taught you that?” –As if she owned the copyright on good and bad, Or having followed pain inside she owned her children From the inside out, or made us when she named us, III Made me Robert. She took me with her to a print-shop Where the man struck a slug: a five-inch strip of lead With the twelve letters of my name, reversed, Raised along one edge, that for her sake he made For me, so I could take it home with me to keep And hold the letters up close to a mirror Or press their shapes into clay, or inked from a pad Onto all kinds of paper surfaces, onto walls and shirts, Lengthwise on a Band-Aid, or even on my own skin– The little characters fading from my arm, the gift Always ready to be used again. Gifts from the heart: Her giving me her breast milk or my name, Waller Showing off in a store, for free, giving them A thrill as someone might give someone an erection, For the thrill of it–or you come back salty from a swim: Eighteen shucked fresh oysters and the cold bottle Sweating in its ribbon, surprise, happy birthday! So what if the giver also takes, is after something? So what if with guile she strove to color Everything she gave with herself, the lady’s favor A scarf or bit of sleeve of her favorite color Fluttering on the horseman’s bloodflecked armor Just over the heart–how presume to forgive the breast Or sudden jazz for becoming what we want? I want Presents I can’t picture until they come, The generator flashlight Italo gave me one Christmas: One squeeze and the gears visibly churning in the amber Pistol-shaped handle hummed for half a minute In my palm, the spare bulb in its chamber under my thumb, Secret; or, the knife and basswood Ellen gave me to whittle. And until the gift of desire, the heart is a titular, Insane king who stares emptily at his counselors For weeks, drools or babbles a little, as word spreads In the taverns that he is dead, or an impostor. One day A light concentrates in his eyes, he scowls, alert, and points Without a word to one pass in the cold, grape-colored peaks– Generals and courtiers groan, falling to work With a frantic movement of farriers, cooks, builders, The city thrown willing or unwilling like seed (While the brain at the same time may be settling Into the morning Chronicle, humming to itself, Like a fat person eating M&M’s in the bathtub) IV Toward war, new forms of worship or migration. I went out from my mother’s kitchen, across the yard Of the little two-family house, and into the Woods: Guns, chevrons, swordplay, a scarf of sooty smoke Rolled upwards from a little cratewood fire Under the low tent of a Winesap fallen With fingers rooting in the dirt, the old orchard Smothered among the brush of wild cherry, sumac, Sassafras and the stifling shade of oak In the strip of overgrown terrain running East from the train tracks to the ocean, woods Of demarcation, where boys went like newly-converted Christian kings with angels on helmet and breastplate, Bent on blood or poaching. There are a mountain and a woods Between us–a male covenant, longbows, headlocks. A pack Of four stayed half-aware it was past dark In a crude hut roasting meat stolen from the A&P Until someone’s annoyed father hailed us from the tracks And scared us home to catch hell: We were worried, Where have you been? In the Woods. With snakes and tramps. An actual hobo knocked at our back door One morning, declining food, to get hot water. He shaved on our steps from an enamel basin with brush And cut-throat razor, the gray hair on his chest Armorial in the sunlight–then back to the woods, And the otherlife of snakes, poison oak, boxcars. Were the trees cleared first for the trains or the orchard? Walking home by the street because it was dark, That night, the smoke-smell in my clothes was like a bearskin. Where the lone hunter and late bird have seen us Pass and repass, the mountain and the woods seem To stand darker than before–words of sexual nostalgia In a song or poem seemed cloaked laments For the woods when Indians made lodges from the skin Of birch or deer. When the mysterious lighted room Of a bus glided past in the mist, the faces Passing me in the yellow light inside Were a half-heard story or a song. And my heart Moved, restless and empty as a scrap of something Blowing in wide spirals on the wind carrying The sound of breakers clearly to me through the pass Between the blocks of houses. The horn of Roland V But what was it I was too young for? On moonless Nights, water and sand are one shade of black, And the creamy foam rising with moaning noises Charges like a spectral army in a poem toward the bluffs Before it subsides dreamily to gather again. I thought of going down there to watch it a while, Feeling as though it could turn me into fog, Or that the wind would start to speak a language And change me–as if I knocked where I saw a light Burning in some certain misted window I passed, A house or store or tap-room where the strangers inside Would recognize me, locus of a new life like a woods Or orchard that waxed and vanished into cloud Like the moon, under a spell. Shrill flutes, Oboes and cymbals of doom. My poor mother fell, And after the accident loud noises and bright lights Hurt her. And heights. She went down stairs backwards, Sometimes with one arm on my small brother’s shoulder. Over the years, she got better. But I was lost in music; The cold brazen bow of the saxophone, its weight At thumb, neck and lip, came to a bloodwarm life Like Italo’s flashlight in the hand. In a white Jacket and pants with a satin stripe I aspired To the roughneck elegance of my Grandfather Dave. Sometimes, playing in a bar or at a high school dance, I felt My heart following after a capacious form, Sexual and abstract, in the thunk, thrum, Thrum, come-wallow and then a little screen Of quicker notes goosing to a fifth higher, winging To clang-whomp of a major seventh: listen to me Listen to me, the heart says in reprise until sometimes In the course of giving itself it flows out of itself All the way across the air, in a music piercing As the kids at the beach calling from the water Look, Look at me, to their mothers, but out of itself, into The listener the way feeling pretty or full of erotic revery Makes the one who feels seem beautiful to the beholder Witnessing the idea of the giving of desire–nothing more wanted Than the little singing notes of wanting–the heart Yearning further into giving itself into the air, breath Strained into song emptying the golden bell it comes from, The pure source poured altogether out and away.

Robert Pinksy, History of My Heart