#honey baby au

[tom-whore-dleston]

👗 Do you think Simu would ever propose to Honey? If so...what would everything (from ring to wedding venue to maybe honeymoon destination) look like?

Dress me up👗 - Send me any scenarios or concepts that you envision for any of my AUs (Teach Me Tonight, Honey Baby, The Avengers Sweethearts) and I will write a drabble or head canon for them

Pairing: !sugar daddy Simu Liu x f. reader

Warnings: fluff, marriage/wedding, mentions of sex - if I missed anything, let me know

Summary: Headcanons of how you and Simu get married

Word Count: 450

Notes: I am so sorry this came out so late 😭 I was overthinking this concept a lot but I finally just said "fuck it, it doesn't need to be perfect or hit a word count, etc" and went with where my thots took me lol I hope the wholesome vibes make up for the long wait. Remember to reblog and comment if you enjoyed what you read 😊

Read more from Honey Baby AU

Barbie and the 900 Followers Celebration is closed. Thank you to everyone who participated!💕

You and Simu haven’t been dating for very long, but he knew right away that you were the one and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. On your end, you felt the same way.

However, Simu wanted you to settle into your acting career before making any big moves. Once you landed the role of your dream, that was when he saw his chance to propose.

You had been anticipating that Simu was going to propose. He asked you to cancel any plans you had on a certain Friday night. Additionally, your friends randomly took you to get your hair and nails done the day before those scheduled plans. It was even weirder that your parents closed the boba shop earlier on that day.

So when Simu knelt down on one knee with your hand in his, your eyes welled up with the happiest tears you have ever shed in your life. You were tempted to cut him off before he could have the chance to ask you the big question, but you didn’t want to spoil the moment he most likely spent a long time preparing for.

“Will you do the honor of making me the happiest man and marry me?” Simu questioned, choking over his words.

“Yes! A million times yes!” Simu jumped to his feet, immediately sweeping you off the ground and spinning you in the air. All of your friends and family cheered and captured this sweet moment on their cameras and phones.

When Simu proposed, he didn’t have a ring yet because he wanted to take you shopping for one that would be perfect for you. After spending many hours at the jeweler, you finally settled on a ring that both of you loved. He's a gentleman like that lol

The wedding was fairytale themed, just like you had dreamed of since you were a child. The bridesmaids and groomsmen all wore pink with gold accents. Per Simu’s request, the groomsmen wore their dress shirts unbuttoned to expose the matching chains Simu gifted them.

Your honeymoon took place in Italy. You stayed in a luxurious suite and you can probably guess what went on in the suite. During the times you weren't messing around in the room, you and Simu explored the city, visiting all the gorgeous sites you had dreamt of seeing in person. His favorite part of the honeymoon was seeing your eyes light up while taking in the scenery.

You would have never in your wildest dreams thought you would marry the man you have looked up to. But you were happy to be spending your life with someone who is equally as in love with you

Navigation | Main Masterlist | Simu Liu Masterlist

[shardkn1ght]

NEW AU ALERT!!!

This is the Who Rescued Who AU!!!

This is Honey! She is Future Leo’s PTSD dog!

She loves her papa and cheese.

She is an English Bull Terrier and she is a cuddle bug!

Leonardo was sent back in time, and the present boys found him and took him in. Now he’s not fighting Krang he realised how much his body hurt and has knee problems. Also, he has bad PTSD and night terrors. And with Casey not needing Leonardo to look after him anymore, Leonardo feels useless. The boys and Casey noticed and pulled some strings to get him a service dog. At first, Leo didn’t want her or think he needed her. But over time, he came to accept and love her.

Thank you, @gemini-forest ,for helping me make her and for sitting in a call with me while I drew her.

[confessedlyfannish]

DP x DC Writing Prompt #8

The day Bruce Wayne knocks on her apartment door Sam knows it's going to be a doozy.

"Mr. Wayne, I really do hope no one saw you," she says, ushering him in. "And for the record, a text ahead of time would be appreciated."

"I parked the car a few streets away," Bruce says, sticking a finger in his heel to peel his polished leather shoes off. Sam raises an eyebrow. "It's a sedan, not a Lamborghini."

"You own a sedan?"

"Taught Dick to drive in it...after he crashed the Lamborghini."

Sam snorts despite herself. The charm Bruce Wayne exhibits would usually rub her the wrong way, too reminiscent of wealthy men that feel comfortable placing a hand on the small of your back at a crowded gala, but Bruce is honest enough about his playacting that she has come to find its insincerity comforting. She's actually sought him out more than once, leading to several annoying headlines that can't seem to decide if she's aiming to date him or one of his eligible sons. None of whom are eligible by the way, as they are a) taken, b) legally dead, c) practically a minor, and d) an actual minor.

Sam's generational wealth is peanuts compared to Wayne Industries, so naturally her parents have been thrilled and rooting for option c.

"I also didn't want Danny to see I'd texted you. Or force you to lie to him."

Sam doesn't quite tense, but it's a near thing. She does slide to the other side of her kitchen island, under the context of finishing prepping her feta fried eggs, laid on a bed of smashed avocado and warm tortilla. She pulls a bottle of crunchy garlic oil out of the fridge and drizzles hot red crisps across the runny yolk. She takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully, not so much as offering him a glass of water.

"You realize, Mr. Wayne, I have no intention of lying to Danny now?"

Bruce sits at the stool on the opposite side of the island. "I understand. And if you want to ask Danny to return home before we continue, I'd understand that as well. I didn't mean to discomfit you--"

"Please do not lie to me now, Mr. Wayne," Sam says, rolling her eyes. "By your own admission you showed up at noon without warning knowing my superhero boyfriend wouldn't be present. If I am discomfited, all the more likely you get your information, right?" Golden yolk runs down her fingers, and she sacrifices it to the napkin rather than lick up her arm in front of her boss, with no small amount of resentment. The yolk is the best part.

"Get to it then," she demands.

Bruce straightens in his stool, chin raising and firming in a jawline she most often sees under a cowl. His eyes attempt to pin her in place, but Sam has stared the Master of Time in the face and demand he reschedule so she is built. different. She takes another bite of egg taco.

"I was not aiming for you to feel threatened, and moreover, I doubt you could be."

Except a smart person should always feel threatened by a threat, no matter their capability of handling one. It keeps them alive.

"Can you tell me how I'm not like all the other girls after lunch? You'll spoil my appetite."

Bruce clears his throat. "I'll get to the point--"

"Thank you."

"--Danny has been exhibiting paranormal behaviors beyond his baseline. We welcome all biologies; human, alien, and paranormal alike, but I have observed actions unlike what he had previously established as his, for lack of a better word, 'normal'

"I want to make sure he is not experiencing any unwelcome outside influence. Or, if this is merely a facet of his evolution, I'd like to know if this is something we or his family should be monitoring."

Sam has been an eco-consultant with Wayne Industries and unofficially, the Batfamily, for half a year now and this is the most she's ever heard the man speak in one sitting.

"Wow," she says. "How long have you been rehearsing that one?"

"A while." Bruce grunts, voice finally taking that final drop into Batman's gravelly rasp. "I see you're not surprised by any of this."

"No, not really," Sam says. She pours him a tall glass of lemon water from the pitcher, freshly sliced that morning, and he takes a polite sip.

"So what can you tell me?"

"Probably a lot. And Danny would probably prefer that I do, knowing him, the big baby," Sam sighs. "Listen Mr. Wayne, I can appreciate that you came here from a place of caution rather than intrusion. And if Danny was undergoing something negative or from an 'unwelcome outside influence' that would be the right call, and I, albeit begrudgingly, encourage you to do so in the future."

"But he's not."

"He's not," Sam confirms. "And in fact, I think he could really use someone to talk to about it. Outside of his family."

"I see..." Bruce says, shifting.

"If you want to tag team this one with one of the higher EQ players, such as Superman, I give you permission." Sam does not think she's imagining that slight sag of relief.

"Thank you," Bruce says, sliding off the stool. "I don't suppose you have material we could consult...?"

"Actually yes, I happen to have a pamphlet right here. 'So your ghostly body is changing, and how.'"

"You're being more sarcastic than usual."

"You interrupted my lunch, Mr. Wayne."

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 7: Have a Cow

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are finding your stride until a surprise shows up on the porch

Word count: 2,750

Content/warnings: Light mob themes, farming, kissing, lap sitting, fluffy fluff

Author’s Note: It’s been a minute! Hopefully this kickstarts me to get a couple more chapters out soon. Please enjoy, be sure to drop any feedback, I love hearing from you!!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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You sighed as you walked into one of your barns tucked toward the back of the property, recently transformed into what looked almost looked like a city loft apartment to accommodate for Bucky’s workers on the farm. You were carrying produce crates and one of Bucky’s henchmen, Peter, came to take them from your hands.

Ever since Bucky’s construction crew has been working in the mines, most of the food that you would normally be selling at the farmer’s market has been going to them. That makes it easy for you, though. A few of them have even been around the fields helping out to pick it themselves, too, giving you a little more time to sort through documents, contracts, and future plans, without having to stay up late like your normally would to fit in all the work.

All the men had been a great help, and exceptionally respectful, which surprised you. Sure, you expected them to be formal and well-behaved, but their actions seemed almost rehearsed, like they had been told exactly what to do. Peter, probably the one kid who you had taken a liking to, was the only one who would really hold conversations with you, though. You assumed part of it was due to his status in Bucky’s organization. He was young, but extremely smart, earning him a spot of minor authority. Although every time he opened his mouth, you were never quite sure what would come out. It could either be something honest and profound, or a weird nervous babble. Sweet kid, though, so no harm done. He was like the best parts of Jake and Curtis at that age.

As you handed the crate over, you looked around at the high ceilings, now lined with bulb lights and the cool tones that decorated the previously wood-heavy space. “I’ve always wanted a barndiminium, just never had an excuse to make it.”

Peter added your box to the stack in what appeared to be a makeshift kitchenette. No way they had time to hook up appliances and water lines already, right? “I know our men seem pretty gruff, but if there’s one thing they like, it’s comfort and luxury where they lay their heads.”

You laughed and nodded your head. Just like their boss, although he didn’t seem to complain as much anymore, laying on sheets that were probably about as old as him.

Peter continued shifting crates around, unloading certain items likely for whatever meal they had planned next once the next round of workers got off their shift. “And of course, boss wouldn’t want anything less than the best when it comes to you. Says this’ll increase the property value. And it’s all yours to enjoy as you please when we’re gone.”

Ah, there it was. The kinda thing Bucky wouldn’t say to your face, but Peter’s lips let slip like it was nothing. Like it was obvious. You tried to change the subject, unsure if you could confront those types of feelings to Peter when you hadn’t even built up the courage to discuss them with Bucky yet. You knew Bucky cared about quality, and had a little understanding of the extent he was willing to go for you. But you didn’t even want to think about a time when Bucky could be gone.

“Don’t you need permits for this stuff?”

He winked. “I won’t tell if you won’t. Plus, I’m sure the higher ups worked their smooth talking magic and their connections. They’re amazing with things like that.”

You hummed in agreement. You had seen and heard first-hand how effortlessly Bucky could have something done for him. The world was at his fingertips. Surely that rule stood true for most people around him.

“Don’t I know, Peter. But I’m sure you’ve got your own charms. Some of your own connections that Buck doesn’t.”

He gave you a sheepish smile and shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess, sort of. But I’m not sure how much they’d really put me in charge of that stuff. Sometimes I just freeze up when I have to tell them things instead of them telling me what to do…I just get so flustered around Mr. Barnes.”

You nodded and put a hand on his shoulder. “Well, I’d say they trust you a lot for you to be in control of as much as you are right now. They definitely see through your nervousness. You’re doing a great job and I really appreciate you discretion and assistance around here.”

He gave you a soft smile. “Oh..wow, thanks.”

You nodded and turned on the newly laid floor, ready to head back to the house to continue your paperwork.

The mid-morning sun was at your back as you made your way inside towards the office. You were almost never inside at this time of day, so it was a wonderful pocket of time to be productive. You were greeted by Bucky sitting in your chair, shuffling though papers while he was on a phone call. He drew his gaze from the fan of parchment in front of him, smiling when he saw your face.

“Yeah, just keep an eye on her and increase security all around. Overlap shifts and monitor cameras 24/7. Thanks, Steve. Bye.”

You smiled as Bucky set the phone down. You had never heard him thank anyone before. As you took another step closer, though, you saw which papers he was looking through. Your own smile fell to see the contract from Cole for the hundredth time. Why was Bucky able to be so happy when this attempt at a forceful ‘offer’ was in front of him?

“C’mere, Honey.” Bucky gestured for you to come sit with him on your chair, but instead, you opted to take a seat opposite him, in front of your desk. There was work to be done and you couldn’t let yourself get distracted, even if he seemed oddly at ease.

You watched as his previously carefree gaze scrunched in on itself, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and lips in a slight pout. As you plopped down in the old cushion, you crossed your arms and legs.

“Bucket, I’m doing this for the good of both of us. Talk business with me first, then we can discuss…accessory ventures.”

You nodded in gesture to the papers, hoping he’d explain why this all needed to be looked over again. Was it not enough that it was constantly running through your mind? You had the power to just say ‘no,’ as long as Cole didn’t keep pushing or have anything over your head, but things were never that easy, so what was really going on?

“Honey, come on. We’ve got a little time to be close. This way we don’t have to flip papers back and forth to read them.” His voice had softened from his phone call, nearly reaching a whine.

“James…” oh, you weren’t messing around. You were taking this seriously. “I can read upside down. It’s fine. Just talk me through what’s going through your head.”

He sighed and his chin met his chest in defeat. “Ever since Curtis messaged me that Cole tried to get into the bar and Lloyd had been with him, I just want to be extra cautious, which is why I’m going through these. Again. I’ve already sent them to my lawyer in the city, so he’ll confirm for me.”

You nodded and stood up, finally walking over to him. “So is this what you’re really worried about? What’s not in the contracts, but real-life threats?”

You walked around your desk, hips swerving to miss the corners as you finally stood in front of Bucky. He swiveled the chair so you stood between his legs and threw his forehead against your stomach. You held him close and stroked his hair before he moved to look up at you, resting his chin on your sternum and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Yeah. I’m worried about you. And what’ll come when I have to leave. And just how involved Lloyd may be. I know I already told you about him, but I don’t think words can describe how much he truly doesn’t subscribe to caring for the well-being of others when they stand in his way. I know this is all that Cole has sent so far, but if Lloyd has anything to say about it, this won’t be the last push, but it’ll certainly be the nicest.”

You nodded down to him before gesturing for him to sit up so you could straddle his lap in the oversized leather chair. You held the sides of his face before leaning your forehead against his. You did your best to speak in a firm, yet placating tone.

“Jamie. I promise, I’m going to be fine. I was fine before you and I can take care of myself when you’re gone.”

He closed his eyes and sighed again. “I know, I know. But I just made the command to keep Peter here with you. He’s an extra precaution. You’ll barely notice him, and I’m sure having the help will be nice.”

You pulled away to smile and roll your eyes. “Bucky, he’s a kid. What’s he gonna do that I can’t? Plus, you know I like him. The last thing I would want is him putting himself in harm’s way for my sake.”

Bucky shook his head. “No, you know how capable he is. If I can see it, I know you sensed it from a mile away. He stays at least until it all blows over. Everyone is willing to do what is necessary to protect you. It’s what they signed on for.”

You knew that Bucky wasn’t going to take no for an answer, so instead, you simply kissed his temple and wrapped your arms around him, nestling against his neck. “Okay, fine. But he’s gonna become the buffest farmer you’ve ever seen when he comes back to you. I’m burning all his little suits. You’ll only ever see him in strictly flannel.”

Bucky let out a light chuckle as he rubbed your back, sitting in the chair and enjoying the moment with you before you mumbled against his neck in question.

“So you wanna tell me what Jake was really doing here? And what you did to make him into the same guy he used to be?”

Bucky hummed in thought at your question. He wasn’t quite sure if honesty was the best way to go here. Sure, you knew that everyone who knew about the mines had to come into town, but why have Jake help? And why didn’t Bucky hate him as much as you’d anticipated?

Bucky clicked his tongue before deciding on the diplomatic answer. “I just reminded him of his place and how valuable you are. Not much more than that. He’s smart if you direct the way he needs to think. I mean, he’s half the reason you’re in this mess, but he could help us get out if we do it right.”

“Yeah, okay Mr. Politician. Whatever you say. Just make sure you restock my duct tape. I’ve been running low lately and I’m not sure how that happened.” Bucky froze as you laughed at the reaction. Dang, he should’ve told the truth. You wouldn’t have asked if you didn’t already know, you were just giving him the opportunity to let you in. Noted.

The rest of the week on the farm was fairly easy as you and Bucky worked in tandem, sporadically getting updates on the mine reinforcements and spells of assistance from his men.

But otherwise, you got along well. Bucky was truly learning the farm chores and operations, catching on quicker than you had anticipated. He only ran the tractor into one ditch and his boots hadn’t gotten stuck in mud at all. Now you were helping, or at least trying to help, him reach mastery in what you thought he would’ve caught onto easily: barking orders.

The two of you were out in the pasture, as you finally taught him how to use your sheep and cattle dogs. Sure, they were practically self-sufficient, but sneaky little things sometimes with their own agendas. Bucky, in an attempt to boast about all the independent work he had done the previous week, revealed himself for the actual issues he had experienced with them, obviously not unbeknownst to you.

After a long day of running around and nearly a week since hearing anything from Cole, you and Bucky were spent, walking back up to your house to have a nice night in, just sitting on the porch and enjoying the peace. As you got closer, though, you could hardly make out a small brown blob waiting there next to one of the posts. Was it a package? You hadn’t ordered any new equipment lately….and then it moved.

You threw an arm out in front of Bucky, both of you stopping stark in your tracks.

“Wait. Hold on. You see that?”

Bucky grabbed your arm close to his chest when you stopped, leaning over it and squinting until it became clear. What was that doing on your porch?

The two of you cautiously kept walking towards it, finally deciphering what you were looking at: a brown, fluffy, baby… highland cow?

You could hear it moo more and more the closer you got, eventually seeing it tied to one of the porch posts with a rope and a ribbon around its neck: both Turner’s blue.

You walked up to the calf cautiously, holding out a hand and cooing at it to ease its evidently nervous state.

“Shhh, shhhh, hey there little thing. What are you doing up here?” Sure, you owned a plethora of livestock, but none of these. This was, for lack of a better term, a house cow. Something Decks had begged you to get for years, but you never had the need or the time for.

You pet the tuft of hair on top of its head as you squatted down, grabbing the piece of card stock attached to the ribbon before looking up over your shoulder at Bucky. You could already see the anger rising in his eyes and seeping through the rest of his demeanor, fists clenched and body rigid as he nodded for you to read.

“Peach, take a taste of what success could be. Here, have a cow. -Cole. P.S. all in good faith”

Oh, Bucky was gonna have a cow, alright. You rolled your eyes at another ridiculous note. This was very evidently not a dairy cow from his stock, so you weren’t sure why Cole was trying to pull one over on you by claiming it was. And he didn’t even leave it with any feed or water for who knows how long it had been there up until this point. The main question was: why didn’t Bucky’s men intercept? You guessed they were probably under specific instructions not to, as to keep a low profile.

When you looked back up at him, Bucky was already on the phone. Even before you had gotten to the porch, he had sent a message to Peter to check the cams and make sure no one had lingered on the property after the delivery. This new development instantly put him on high alert.

He held the phone to his ear now, though, as it rang only twice before you heard someone on the other side pick up. “Hey Barber, I know you’re busy with that other stuff I sent you, but what do you know about corporate gifting policies?”

Meanwhile, you had untied the poor baby from the post and scooped it up, carrying it inside and to the kitchen while Bucky slumped into the couch. You gave the calf—at least it was a girl capable of producing milk and not a boy-which you definitely would’ve roasted Cole for—some water before taking her over to the couch and setting her down next to Bucky. You ran your knuckles against his temple in a soothing stroke before petting through his hair and giving him a kiss on his hairline. When you pulled away, thumb moving to stroke his cheek, you mouthed ‘it’ll be okay,’ only seeing his jaw unclench slightly at the reassurance. You moved to sit on the couch on the other side of the calf and criss-crossed your legs, petting her and listening to Bucky’s lawyer walking him through corporate gifting laws, now on speaker.

Next >

Bonus A/N: highland cows are so cute. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been sent a video of one getting a little spa day🥰

Series Taglist: @scuzmunkie @openup-yourmind @vicmc624 @hawkeyes-queen @blackhawkfanatic @morgthemagpie @buckybarnessimpp @calwitch

[bonefall]

(dif anon) So is Ashfur grooming Shadowsight a plotline you would keep/rework in BB? I'm not so keen on the way canon used it to retcon his epilepsy, but I do think a plotline examining how clerics can be vulnerable to abuse from StarClan spirits is kinda compelling

Shadowsight's epilepsy is staying in BB, the Erins can try and take it away again over my dead body

Yes, that's staying and BB!StarClan was reworked with unfairness in mind.

This time around, I'm considering the idea that Ashfur didn't work completely alone. After the events of Squirrelflight’s Horror, Silverpelt's divisons are starting to crackle the stars.

Skystar and the other more traditional spirits are losing patience with the peace that Fire Alone brings, and the ways that the code has been bent.

They feel that honor is being lost in their descendants.

Even angels disrespect the collective; see how Skypelt has its own heaven? With a demon in its midst? There is blasphemy even in the skies.

Firestar and the more modern pantheon are ferociously defensive of the choices of the living. StarClan exists for them; not the other way around.

Meanwhile, Mousefur has gone missing. Others start to blink out, too. This is causing panic... and Ashfur keeps it quiet that he's the only one who knows where they've gone.

The angels that plan action probably were a small group to begin with, radical spirits. Skystar and Ashfur are two of them, and Ash is the "youngest." So when he comes down to the mortal plane and betrays them, very few other angels knew what had happened.

(I might even have a few angels be doing the various supernatural things in that first book, but slowly, Ashfur is wittling down their numbers until it's just him.)

I'm still working out specifics, but the other angels that Ashfur has consumed are giving him a massive power boost. He can use this to jump between planes freely, and he's able to do some whacky things like weave dreams and pull nightmares out of the Dark Forest.

The most important unique power he has, which he can do ALL on his own once he's absorbed enough starpower, is blast Shadowpaw with a bolt of lightning. The electric current runs through Shadowpaw's brand new scar, giving him a connection to StarClan like he's a little radio tower.

Thing is... when StarClan is blocked off, the only signal he receives is Ashfur's.

So, Shadowpaw.

From the time he was very young, Shadowkit has had an unhealthy relationship to life and death

He watched a lot of cats die before he was old enough to really understand it, and the only one who came back was Heartstar.

His epilepsy was so severe it would have been terminal. He was prepared to die as a kit.

Tawnypelt took him to the Tribe to learn more about treatments, bringing back a method of refining chamomile to manage the convulsions.

When people come back from death, it was to serve "a purpose."

He feels like he needs to be special, like he needs to find the great meaning in his life. The reason why he's still here.

In BB, there can be guardian angels. Cats you knew in life who decide to watch out for you in the afterlife. Moleflight is Jayfeather's, Shrewface is Squirrelflight’s. Ashfur poses as Shadowpaw's.

THAT is how I plan to address my criticism. Ashfur DOES build a very personal, trusting relationship with Shadowpaw, pretending to be the one who's here to give him the destiny he craves. Pretending like he's someone looking out for him.

I actually LIKE how desperate the situation was in-canon and I want to stress how none of this was Shadow's fault, so I also plan to keep that they had very little choice. Shadowpaw trusts his angel completely, and Ashfur coaches him on saying all the right things.

The older Clerics are suspicious, but... what else can they do?

Also, instead of framing this all as something Shadowpaw needs to "atone" for, I'm going to make certain cats unfairly scapegoat him for bringing the Impostor into the forest. Shadowpaw himself agrees with them, blaming himself, but he has to learn it wasn't his fault.

He DIDN'T let anyone down by failing to live up to great expectations, and there's no way he could have known that Ashfur was using him. This never happened before, he always made the choice he thought was right and tried to make up for harm done, and he's not responsible for what his abuser made him do.

I actually want to have him figure out some of this by talking to DF demons, towards the end. Cats faaaar more responsible for what they did in life than him.

Ravenwing in particular, who was also mislead by a rogue StarClan spirit, but... ultimately decided that if StarClan was right in their judgement.

He was told (by Birchface, but he still doesn't know who it was in particular) to make three kittens unsafe by revealing their parentage. His choice killed three innocent children, and lead to the Queen’s Rights.

And StarClan was furious that he'd ever believe they'd want something so CRUEL.

And even if they DID want something so cruel... "Then they wouldn't have been ancestors worth following. And that's why I believe it's right that I'm here."

As a Cleric, he had authority on their behalf. And if they would misuse it through him, he wishes he could have just given it right back.

And Shadowsight's lightbulb goes Ding!

The very last thing Ashfur does in TBC, when the jig is up and he's about to be killed by the Lights in the Mist and a bunch of Demons who have come to defend their home, is swallow a Founder-- Skystar.

He takes the level of a true god, and reaches a nearly undefeatable level of power. Instead of black water, he's so large, malicious, and has a gravitational pull so massive it starts destroying the afterlife. It shatters the purgatory (Meadow of Young Stars) into floating cosmic fragments, and Heaven and Hell are set to collide.

Shadowsight confronts Ashfur, politely explaining that he's, well... done a lot of thinking, and, he doesn't really want what he gave him. "You can, uh, have this back!"

And blasts the lightning from his scar right back at him, like a chain, holding the screeching eldrich horror in place. Every ally he's made, here in the DF, come down from StarClan, and as Lights in the Mist, jump to his side. They can't hold down Ashfur, but they can hold SHADOWSIGHT

While they're all supporting him, Bristlefrost sees the one chance to get rid of him, once and for all. A clear shot. She bolts, pounces, and SHOOTS right into Ashfur like a falling star, knocking them both off the edge of the heaven he destroyed, burning up in orbit with a monster a hundred times her size.

And after that, Shadowsight has to go home and live with this.

He gave up the very connection that made him so special, and now he has to go back to being a Cleric without StarClan.

but the other Clerics accept this. They have to. They were all complicit in the choices that allowed the Impostor to rise.

What Shadowsight learns is... everyone was part of this. From those who made the follies with him, to the supporters and rebels against the impostor, to those who helped him realize his worth, to Bristlefrost who ultimately killed Ashfur.

He is valuable because living is valuable.

Everyone, and everything, matters. All cats have a role to play, and he was never alone.

I want to close him out in BB!TBC on a tea scene that parallels the various points in his life. Others used to prepare his chamomile treatments FOR him, in careful doses, because it is a very serious medicine. Now, at the end, he's the one brewing it.

A fully fledged Cleric, who realizes he's never been alone. Cats who love him were around him the whole time, making his medicine, and they'll love him even after he's given up his powerful gift. So now he's at the stage in his life where HE can make that medicine, share his wisdom with others, and find fulfillment in the skills he's acquired over a hard life brightening.

[djsherriff-responses]

Search results for Captain Laserhawk be like:

[crocchompers]

Baby

🥺💕

[veinsfullofstars]

⚔️ How ‘bout a li'l training montage? 🏹

(ID: Kirby series fanart of Shadow Kirby honing his battle skills with various different Copy Abilities, feat. Dark Meta Knight and Shadow Dedede. More detailed descriptions below the cut. END ID.)

Part 1 | Part 2 (here!)

So I keep thinking about how Shadow Kirby is confirmed in canon to be just as powerful and capable as regular Kirby, so long as he can push past his own reluctance and fears. Then I started thinking about the unique color palette he has for the Fighters games, if that could be a sort of visual indicator of him reaching that full potential. Then I started thinking about who was around to teach him these skills, and the differences in their techniques, and how SD’s treatment of SK might be vastly different from DMK, and how that affects the relationship that DMK & SD might have, and how it all ties in to the sociopolitical climate of the Mirror World as a whole, and oh stars dammit am I making another AU again???

On an unrelated note, screw the Mirror World for giving everyone in it just the most annoying color palettes to shade. Grays on grays on grays and sometimes red but mostly grays. I am languishing in render hell and ready to move on to the next one thank you. Too many headcanons - not enough time or hands or energy.

UPDATE 03/01/24: Changed SK's eyes to purple instead of blue, and changed DMK's cape from gray to dark red.

Started 11/7/23, finished 11/16/23. NOTE: This was originally posted on my deleted account on 11/16/23.

---

Image descriptions

Top left: SK in Ninja gear, facing left, looking focused and holding out his katana, imitating DMK standing beside him in a similar pose with his own sword.

Top middle: SK in Archer gear, leaping up to fire an arrow from his bow.

Top right: SK in Bomb gear - also sporting his darker swirl coloration from Kirby Fighters - winking and sticking his tongue out as he tosses a bomb towards the viewer.

Middle: SK - in Wrestler gear with KF colors - delivering a strong leaping kick to a wooden training dummy, while DMK & SD observe in the background. SD stands with arms crossed and eyes narrowed, his mouth pulled into a sinister, calculating grin. DMK stands at his side, wrapped in his cape with eyes hidden in the shadows of his mask, a pensive ellipsis over his head.

Bottom left: SK facedown on the floor with a cross of bandages on his head, exhausted from training. DMK’s hand awkwardly comes in from off-screen, placing a bottle of Energy Drink beside him.

Bottom right: SK powering up into his KF form, fists clenched, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open in a roar, an aura of purple-black flame flickering around him.)

[elizakai]

numero uno Error Sans head-canon ✋

His voice sometimes changes its playback speed depending on how emotionally triggered by something he is X)

Not just glitching and reverbing, like say he’s extremely stressed or excited, he might be speaking at like, 1.75 until someone calms him down

Confused? Rebooting? Be patient with him, he won’t be at 0.25 for long just give him a minute :((

(Hell, if he’s angry enough you might even witness him screaming his grievances in reverse)

[honeyxmonkey]

YJ au Douxie being a glowy fire boi

[tom-whore-dleston]

Sugar Daddy! Simu where he’s wearing the chain he wore the other day in that picture where he looks submissive 👀 I would like to see you expand your thots on that!

Delayed Gratification

Pairing: !sugar daddy Simu Liu x f. reader [Honey Baby]

Genre: smut

Warnings: THE MF CHAIN RETURNS WITH A VENGENCE!!, sub!Simu, dom!reader, bondage, gagging, hickies, mentions of edging

Word Count: 211

Notes: I'm very glad you asked me my thots and opinions on that pic bc jesus fuckin christ 😮‍💨 Remember to reblog and comment if you enjoyed what you read 😊

Read more from Honey Baby AU

Send me wholesome/hoesome thots and I will write a 5+ sentence blurb

“You ready, Daddy?” You asked, your hand trailing over the chunky chain that accentuated his sculpted chest. Simu lifted his hands in front of your face, a sinister smile displayed across his face.

“Always, baby.” 

With that, you pinned his wrists above his head, tying them tightly to the bed posts. Simu pulled on the restraints, smirking when his wrists were locked in place.

“Looks like someone has been taking notes while I’ve been tying you up-”

You were about to giggle at his comment, until you remembered who was in charge tonight. Suddenly, you grabbed your panties from the side of the bed and shoved them in Simu’s mouth.

“Sorry, Daddy,” you said, yanking him towards your face by his chain. “Honey is calling the shots tonight.” The glint of lust in Simu’s eyes caused your pussy to slicken against his cock that pulsated in his jeans. Part of you wanted to rip his pants off and ride him to your heart's desire, but you very much enjoyed being the dominant one for a change. 

You pushed Simu back against the bed frame and started kissing down his chest, leaving red violet marks against his skin. That night, edging became a new kink that you unlocked within yourself and Simu.

[kittenmoth]

I am absolutely in love with centaur AU actually. As the resident Toph Stan from my friend group may I recommend a few animals? (No pressure to use any of them!) A boar, a hippo, a Wolverine, a tasmanian Devil, a mole, a honey badger, or maybe a Jack rabbit (they have seen hell)

I'd wanted something "unassuming but can kick ass" and y'know what? You're so right, Jack Rabbits have seen hell and they kicked it's ass for lookin at them wrong. Thanks for the suggestions!

[nyxyooni]

Honey Ties

sooooo this is for @bruciemilf bc every single time they bring up civilian!bruce wayne i feel like going insane. so i hope this is to ur liking!!! 

–/ Next

——

"At the very least, we get to spend the whole day together," Bruce bounced Damian in his arm, kissing his soft cheek when the baby turned to look at him, "it'll be fun!" Kissing the baby one more time Bruce began making his way downstairs, sure it was far too late for either of them to have barely woken up, especially for Bruce. However, the entire week had been on the busier side, what with a sudden spike of rogue attacks which meant that the ER had been that much more active. Then there had been trouble at the company with some of the WE Board members suddenly deciding to make Tim's company life difficult...

All in all, Bruce was tired and just wanted to get some good sleep, thankfully his kids seemed to have picked up on his desire for rest since the moment he got home from the hospital last night and almost immediately crashed onto his bed not once was he woken up. A miracle considering just how many kids he had and how much they loved his attention but they were good kids so, of course, they would want the best for their dad.

Smiling Bruce turned to look at Damian who turned to look at him at the same time, it was for only a moment that they looked at each other before the baby laughed brightly and rushed to look away as he brought his hands up to his mouth, it was a developing habit of his, covering his mouth whenever he laughed. Bruce found it ever endearing, chuckling he bounced the baby all the while he walked to the dining hall.

"What is it? Hm?" Nuzzling Damian's soft cheek with his nose Bruce asked, "why are you hiding?" His voice was but a whisper and although his eyes still felt heavy and sticky, and there was a certain ache to his muscles that throbbed all the way down to his bones Bruce's hold on his baby was secure and warm. "Baba is the happiest when his sweet baby is," pressing one final kiss onto Damian's cheeks he pulled back.

By now Bruce was basically shuffling through the doors of the dining hall. Adjusting Damian against his ribs he zeroed in on one of the only two places at the large table that had been set up with just the right amount of food.

Making his way over Bruce kissed the top of Damian's head as he lowered him down onto the baby's highchair despite it not being that old it appeared to be in desperate need of repairs. If he had known how excited Damian would get with utensils in his hands then Bruce would've asked for stronger, durable wood but alas...

"I'm not going anywhere..." his voice was soft as he placated the baby when he started to whine, it was always like that when Damian left his arms, "see, I'm right here, sweetheart." Settling in his own chair Bruce smiled fondly at the baby when he noticed tears beginning to gather in his eyes, "it's just until we finish breakfast," barely leaning over he rubbed right under the baby's teary eyes, crooning gently as he did. "There we go..."

"I see that the baby isn't too fussy today," Alfred's voice reached both of their ears at the same time that his footsteps did, "maybe he's finally getting used to eating in the highchair while you're present, Master Bruce." He spoke as he poured the man at the table orange juice, "At least I hope it's that."

Smiling Bruce picked up the glass and drank from it, watching as Alfred poured some watered-down apple juice into Damian's sippy cup so he could emulate his father to his little heart's content.

Smacking his lips softly Bruce set down his glass so he could pick up a small bowl of oatmeal with an even smaller spoon in it, turning to Damian he laughed quietly when he saw the baby's bright expression. Towards the meal rather than his father, surely.

Bruce fed Damian like how he always did, humming loudly while mimicking over-exaggerated eating motions, whenever it came to this there was no shame in Bruce's mind to process, never for his little baby.

"So... did the kids eat breakfast..?" Bruce's words were loose, concentrated on scooping the food that slipped through Damian's lips and down his chin back into his mouth but he still needed to know so he flickered his eyes up to Alfred for a second.

Humming the butler began prepping a plate for Bruce given how the man was far too occupied to even be thinking about himself, "with the exception of Master's Dick and Jason, yes," setting the plate in front of the man Alfred then moved on to pouring more juice in the half empty glass from before, "they had mentioned about being busy with work, at least that was what Master Dick had said, Master Jason, offered no details other than being 'busy.'"  

Happy with the amount of oatmeal Damian had eaten Bruce leaned back into his chair before giving the baby a piece of cantaloupe to either eat or play with, turning to look at Alfred, Bruce nodded, "and Duke made it to school on time?" He had learned, much like everyone else that Jason was better left to his own devices, he would come back home no matter what. He always did. He was a good boy.

"Naturally," moving the almost empty bowl of oatmeal aside Alfred waited until Bruce had started eating before he kept going, "Miss Stephanie and Barbara stopped by for breakfast before taking Miss Cassandra out for some fun, they had spoken something about a new mall opening in Metropolis," peeking over at Bruce he was relieved when he saw the man digging into his food, well, Bruce Wayne's version of 'digging in' at the very least. "Master Tim left rather late but I didn't hear about any important meetings today so there's no reason to worry."

With that Bruce was all caught up for today.

Picking up his glass of juice Bruce took slow sips from it while turning to look at Damian who had actually eaten the fruit and was now staring at his father with ever-green eyes. Placing the glass back down Bruce sighed, pouting as he grabbed the cloth off his lap to wipe the baby's cheeks clean, "seems like it's just you and me for the rest of the day," Damian babbled as he smacked his sticky hand onto the highchair table, "that's right, sweetheart, the two of us and Alfred," looking up at the man with a smile he cleaned Damian's hands as best he could before picking him back up.

The sequel of delight Damian let out as he once again returned into his father's arms made both men present laugh, "I'm certain that Young Master Damian will enjoy himself greatly today." Alfred gently nudged the baby's cheeks, a smile playing on his lips.

"Of course, he will! It's not like he can leave," kissing the still a little sticky cheek of the baby, Bruce smiled at Alfred, "thank you for the meal," taking hold of one of Damian's small hands Bruce waved it around as he bounced the baby, "c'mon, sweetheart, let's say thank you to Alfred for the food!"

It was one thirty-six in the afternoon by the time Damian was bathed, squealing and splashing while a drenched Bruce laughed in a bathroom that multiplied the joy by twenty and more and more and a little more.

—

"We should attend the next gala with Bruce, all of us," Dick muted the video feed of Bruce bathing Damian to look over at his younger brother who was wiping blood off his knuckles.

Snapping his head up Jason pulled a face of confusion and light disgust, "I'm sorry? What the fuck did you just say?"

Rolling his eyes Dick threw his head to the side, "I said—"

"No, I meant why?" Tossing the dirty, blood-stained rag he had used to clean his hands Jason walked all the way to where Dick was sitting in front of a computer. "We're busy as it is these days with the rogues and these motherfuckers!" Yelling in the direction he had just come from a couple of whimpers rang back, "why do you want to make it worse for us?"

Groaning Dick sprung up from the rickety chair he had been sitting in, not caring about the fact that he had probably broken it given the splintered crack that came from it the moment it hit the floor. "Because! Jason! We haven't spent time with him and he misses us!" Staring at his younger brother Dick tried to lock eyes with him, "everyone knows you miss him."

"Shut up," gritting through his teeth Jason turned all the way around, he knew he should've worn his helmet, "plus! This is something that should be discussed at large, with everyone not just between the two of us—"

"Duke and the girls already agreed," Dick's voice cut through Jason like a hot knife to butter.

Whining, Jason threw his arms out, dropping his shoulders the lowest they could get to all the while he tipped his head back, "but a gala?!" Turning to his brother Jason pulled the most miserable expression he could muster.

All Dick did was hit the mute button on the computer.

"Will you leave me when you get all grown up too?" Bruce's voice filtered through the unfortunately really good speakers of the laptop, he was speaking in the soft little tone that made the edges of his voice crack. "I really hope you don't, my sweet little baby, you won't leave your Baba alone, right?" Dick and Jason stared at each other, an expression of heartbreak slowly making its way onto both of their faces. Damian's excited baby babble made their father laugh, airy and so dear to them, "of course you won't!" After that the tall-tale sound of kisses and baby squealing came through before Dick put the feed on mute again.

Clicking his tongue Jason crossed his arms, "fucking alright! We'll go to the gala tomorrow!" Quickly making his way over to the guy he had been working on just a few minutes ago Jason glared down at him hard. Now that he was pissed and maybe a little embarrassed work would go by a little swifter. "So... you were saying..."

By the time they were done cleaning up the warehouse, leaving it in much the same empty desolate state it had been a couple of days ago it was the sun was low in the sky. Seeing as they were both messes and couldn't just show up to the manor with dried blood speckled here and there they stopped by one of Jason's safe houses to get cleaned up before finally making their way home.

"Is Duke not home?" Flicking through his phone Jason buckled his seat belt while Dick got himself situated in the driver's seat, "doesn't he get out of school around three?"

"There was an attempted bank robbery a couple of blocks from his high school," turning the car on Dick looked back over his seat as he slowly began to pull out of their parking spot, "Cass, Steph and Babs ran into trouble of their own so their date unfortunately lasted a little longer than they thought it would."

Now on the road, it was just a matter of how fast Dick drove and whether Gotham traffic would be on their side or not.

Relaxing in his seat Jason dropped his phone onto his lap, "huh, but didn't they go to Metropolis?"

Nodding Dick flicked his eyes over at him for a second before going back to the road, "they did but it seems like a brand new mall opening is too hard to pass up," back on one of the main roads he settled further into the car seat, "Babs called earlier and said that Superman had taken care of things so they're probably already on their way here."

"And Timmy's busy at the big office..." Turning to look out of his window toward the impressive Wayne Enterprise Tower Jason sighed, today was supposed to be the day where they could all hang out with their father, the girls had even gone out of town to get him a little something but it seemed that nothing went their way. "We really did leave him alone, huh?"

Patting his leg Dick smiled and even with hints of sadness it still managed to be cheerful, "come on Jaylad! He wasn't completely alone, he had Damian and Alfred with him, you know how much he likes spending time with Dami," taking a turn, careful with how close the lanes were on this particular stretch of road Dick leaned forward a little, "plus, you know that everything—"

"—we do is for him. Yeah, I know Dick, but that doesn't mean I can't hate the way he feels so alone when we leave him." Bringing his elbow up to the windowsill of the car door he pressed his mouth into the palm of his hand, staring at the cars going the same speed as them, following the ones going faster until another took their place Jason allowed his body and mind to relax. "I just... I don't want him to miss us..."

"I don't either, none of us do," changing lanes Dick tried not to remember those nights when he was new to the manor, waking up because the memories still weren't memories and finding himself outside of Bruce's room, hearing him crying to people long gone to stay, to please stay! Swallowing quickly boiling emotion he looked over to his younger brother for a second before returning back to the road, "so we have to make it up to him as best we can."

Jason said nothing, merely continued to stare off into the distance out of the car window before he inhaled quietly, "I miss him." His voice was sticky as if his throat had somehow melded together after a while of not talking. "I always miss him..." Quietly he confessed to the slowly fogging glass of the window, away from his brother and even further from his father.

Smiling, Dick kept on driving.

[demigod-of-the-agni]

Peter Parker if he got bit by a radioactive sword ☢️🟢⚔️

if I had a nickel for every time I made a Spider-Man au based off a video game, I'd have three nickels, which isn't a lot but it's concerning that it's happened three times. This au is the spidey/final fantasy vii mashup, where Peter becomes the Unreliable Narrator

anyway someone pretty please write this au for me <333 I'll pay you <3333333

bg variants under the cut

the BIGGEST dilemma(s) was figuring out if I should

A) keep the eyes in my art style (no colours, just the highlight), bc ngl it makes him seem more babey (pic 1),,, or

B) add the mako-glow to the eyes so i could be lore-accurate.... also I spent a lot of time!! on colouring in those pixels!!!!! dammit!!!!!!!!! (pic 2) and

C) OF COURSE i was struggling to choose between the white and red backgrounds!!!!! evil me!!!!!!! making difficult creative decisions!!!!!!

i will,,,, try to draw the other peeps as well (mj as tifa and gwen as aerith ,,, mmm yesss esysey yes ssss) but i fear the monkey brain has already died........ i will try tho,,,,,,,,,,

[missmielyhoran]

How my Harry's would spend their New Year's Eve

[Warning- Smut (small bit), kissing and just shit ton of fluff which idk how I wrote]

*****

Dbf!Gangleader!Harry

It was 5 minutes before the midnight, and Harry was nowhere to be seen. Beforehand, it was planned by both of them that they would sneak to the balcony of her room to kiss at midnight and watch fireworks, but now, as you roamed around your house, you couldn't find him.

You were waling past library when someone pulled you inside. You were ready to scream when their hand covered your mouth and all came out is a whimper. Then the light turned on and you saw the pair of familiar green eyes.

You removed his hand from your mouth and hit him on his bicep, making him laugh. You pouted while Harry pulled you close by your waist.

"You scared me" You whispered. "I'm sorry" he said snuggling into you more. If any of his men saw him like this they would be shocked. The most feared men and their boss snuggling and purring into an embrace of woman like a cat but he didn't care. You were his owner.

Soon enough people outside in the garden and on terrace who were invited to the party started the count down.

7..

6..

Harry pulled you close if it was even possible.

5..

4..

You brought your hands up to his cheeks and drew soothing circles on them. It was just you and him there and no one else.

3..

2..

1..

Harry leaned down and kissed you. Putting in all the passion he could. Your lips moved against his, and he tilted your head down to deepen it. The sound of fireworks going outside covered their whimperes.

He finally pulled apart to breath. Harry brought his forehead down to yours and closed his eyes to remember the moment for whole eternity.

"Happy new year darling"

"Happy new year H"

*****

Fuckboy!Harry

When Harry suggested the idea, you thought it was dumb but it doesn't hurt to try it, does it?

The incredible idea he had was to get both of you come at midnight. Rather than midnight kiss, which, according to him, was boring, he wanted a midnight orgasm.

Now, 30 seconds left to midnight, and you were close but not enough to come. The watch beside his bed on nightstand showed the passing second, and it wasn't enough.

"Fucking hell woman why can't you come today?" Harry groaned and you knew he was close.

"Maybe cause I know that I have to." You chuckled, which was cut off by a moan when Harry gave you a hard thrust.

"Fucking brat" He murmured and pulled out of you. Before you could protest he pushed you on your stomach and raised your hips up. He started pounding into you with no remorse making you scream.

The countdown started outside in the garden of Harry's frat house where the party was going on.

10...

9..

"Harry, I'm close. Please don't stop," you cried out. You were clenching around Harry like crazy and he had to think about the old woman down the street to not come right at that point.

"Wasn't planning on it" He muttered.

8..

Harry slid his hand down in front of you and started making tight and fast circles on your clit.

7..

6..

You were going frenzy, and so was Harry. The count down drowned out by both of your moans and sound of skin slapping.

5..

4..

3..

Harry kept rubbing your clit and you were about to come. He pinched your clit and that tipped you over the edge and your orgasm ran through your body like a firework.

2..

1..

The sound of the alarm was like a signal as you came around Harry, and he inside you. Harry fell over you like a limp body after.

People outisde cheered probably kissing their dates or partners while you just got life fucked out of you.

"Happy new year blue" Harry said, pushing his head into your mess of hair while his dick was still inside you.

"Happy new year Harry"

*****

Youtuber!Harry

(Many years later than the events of Baby Honey)

Surrounded by friends and family, you were sitting on the terrace. Harry, beside you, watching the countdown.

Rohan was their with his son and his new girlfriend. Your sister was with her husband, gemma was with her boyfriend and Anne with hers.

10...

Harry stood up from beside you and pulled you up with him. Your belly was getting huge, making it harder to move around. At first, you wanted to go he ball drop at the time square, but it would have been too crowded and unsafe, so Harry booked a hotel from where you could watch it.

9...

He pushed the hair back from your face and smiled and brought his hand down to your belly, rubbing it.

"I love you so much" He whispered.

8...

He looked behind over your shoulder and gave a nod, making you look over to see your sister filming with your vlog camera.

You turned back around to face Harry only to find him down on his one knee. Everyone around you was looking at you both with smile and tears.

"I will keep it short cause we are in a bit of time crunch." Harry laughed, "Y/N, you are my best friend, my girlfriend and now mother of my child." Harry started.

6...

You were crying while your hands covered your mouth in shock. "When I saw you first time even though I was with someone else, I knew you were special. I made many mistakes, been a dumbass. Made you and me both wait to have something we could have had way earlier, but for this, I couldn't wait." Harry spoke the fastest you have heard.

5...

You turned to your sister who was now beside you. "You let me do this in joggers?" You cried.

"I'm sorry" She also cried.

4...

"Miss Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?" Harry finally asked and nodded the fastest you could.

"Yes yes" You cried, "Omg yes"

3...

Harry pushed the ring into your finger and stood up, pulling you into him.

2..

He brought his hand around your cheek and leaned down.

1..

He kissed you soflty tasting your salty tears mixed with his own.

"Happy new year Honey"

"Happy new year indeed"

*****

90sRockstar!Harry

Harry was had just gave the performance of his life on the ball drop. His chest was heaving with deep breath, body sweaty from running around and adrenaline even in cold.

The countdown was about to end when Harry's eyes searched for yours. He found you standing very first like always being his biggest supporter.

He walked over to where you were and leaned down from the stage. You thought he was leaning down to hug you or kiss you but he held onto your shoulder and yanked you up on the stage like you weight nothing.

The whole croud cheered seeing that. Harry just smirked bathing in the attention.

All the boys were putting off their instruments, Mitch already down the stage beside Sarah. While Niall and Louis was chatting up some fan to kiss at midnight.

"Hi" You laughed bringing your arms around his neck. You didn't care thousands of people watching or that it would practically be on the newspaper tomorrow, you just saw him and you there.

"Hi angel" He brought his nose to your flicking it.

"The ball is about to drop" You whispered.

"I know" He replied with same hushed tone.

Soon enough the count down ended and the ball dropped. Everyone was kissing someone and you were kissing your husband, high up on stage in front of thousands.

"Happy New Year"

"Happy New Year Angel"

*****

Taglist- @harryspirate

I'm so fucking lonely. I also wanted to make out with someone at midnight, but all I did was watch AHS.

Send me requests or just talk to me here♡

I'm writing strike pt 2. I have said before I'm shit with consistency, sorry

[atinylittlepain]

Part One

climbing expeditionist!steve harrington x f!oc

series masterlist

Past, present, and future dance and daunt in the shadows of Mount Everest. He just wants to get home. She just wants him home.

chapter warnings | 18+ angst, pregnancy, commentary on eco-tourism, steve is a little depresso at 17,000 feet

word count | 3.4K

a/n | this fic is pure self-indulgence, as a climber who thought they'd one day summit everest, and then realized it's been ruined by eco-tourism! anyways, parts of this fic closely follow the 1996 everest climbing disaster, with many key changes. thanks for reading, there's a fun little treat at the end too.

..............................................................

March 1996 - Colorado

“You’re gonna be late if you stick around any longer.”

“Don’t worry about that, honey. I’ll run if I have to, just give me a few more minutes with you.” He doesn’t get nervous, she knows, not about these things. He gets charming, all slanted smiles and soft touches, sneaking kisses as he rocks in the soles of his boots, plane ticket tucked between index and middle finger. 

But she gets nervous. Even when they do these things together, let alone now with her staying behind and sending him off. Like watching her heart slip from her ribcage and tiptoe out onto a highwire with no net. With no net. So she gets nervous, and she tries to hide it from him, though she can feel her smile starting to slip the longer she stands here in the airport, throngs of people passing by in cloistered chaos. 

“Did Robin make it out there alright?”

“Yeah, got a fax from her this morning, she’s already at basecamp getting stuff set up with the local guides. Hey, you’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?” 

“You’ve got that look.”

“What look?”

“Jo.”

“Steve.” Her arms crossed over her chest, and his hands curling over her forearms, leaning in, and in, and in, until his forehead is pressed against hers and she can no longer see the arrivals board, the people rushing by with suitcases and backpacks. Just him, and his smile that is everything, long hair like a curtain around them. She takes two deep breaths, smelling him, the badger balm he rubs into his hands and good clean soap from the shower he took that morning. And she wills herself to hold onto that scent, to tuck it somewhere safe in her mind, and this too, the soft warble of his voice when he asks her can I get one more kiss, please? Never saying no to that, a sweet simple one, followed by another with a little more want, little more ache behind it. He’ll have a beard the next time she sees him, she knows, but for now there’s just the slightest scratch of stubble when she presses her lips against his. 

“Please don’t worry too much about me.” And that makes her laugh, though it tightens and changes into something bordering on a sob, a high, clipped sound, shake of her head, her forehead still against his, and she has to, she has to take the step back, create that space, has to let go for now. He doesn’t abide by that, hands curling around her biceps, come back, come back, one more minute. He’s wearing his wedding ring on a chain around his neck, too many close calls losing it in the snow, in pulling off a mitten, in the chaos of what he does, what they do. She hooks her finger through it and pulls, a young part of her wishing that’d be enough magic to make him stay. 

“I don’t care what time it is there or here, you call me when you get to Kathmandu, and to Lukla, and to base, okay?”

“Of course I will, and you have the fax number. Gonna send me the scans?” His hand coming to rest over the slight swell of her stomach, still new, the small, hard curve of it, but there, but there. She feels like she might be sick, though she’s not sure why, not sure if it’s the pregnancy, or something else. 

“Yeah, baby, I’ll send them over. But seriously, you better go.” They both sigh, both say love to each other, quiet and close, and then it’s catch and release, him walking toward security, beautiful boy, beautiful world of a person in his corduroy pants rolled at the ankles and a new fleece that she stitched a stupidly sweet heart into the tag of, a little thread of luck, and his pack that he prides himself on keeping so light. She snuck a few extra clif bars into one of the side pockets, a different kind of nesting, preparing for a departure instead of an arrival. He looks over his shoulder at her one more time, wire rimmed glasses glinting, one more smile, and then he’s gone in the push and pull of the crowd. 

She knows the trip he’s about to take well, after all, she has done it five times herself. This will be his sixth. He’ll spend a night and a day in Kathmandu, gathering up the group of people who have enough money to pay him to be their guide. Eddie will be there too, his usual self, aviators and absurdly underdressed, and if there’s a woman in this season’s group, she'll swoon and yes, recognize him from the cover of Outside Magazine, climbing’s resident bad boy, according to the journalist that wrote the piece. They’ll be brilliant together, Steve and Eddie, capable, holding court over a shared dinner before their flight to Lukla the next morning, the group listening in quiet reverence as Steve talks about the death zone, and Eddie’s favorite line, when we hit 26 thou, we will literally be dying, so remember how much you paid to be here. 

He calls her that night, a day ahead now, catches her mid-afternoon and tells her that he has a good feeling about this group. No bullshitters, no brass either as far as I can tell. Brass, the big talkers, usually Americans that have decided this trip, this thing, is their self-given right. Brass, usually the first to turn around. She tells him that the crib was delivered, and he asks her if she’ll wait to put it together, he’d like to help when he gets back. Of course, she says, of course she’ll wait for him.

A week and a half goes by before she hears from him again. She doesn’t know whether to be pissed or utterly paralyzed with fear. Robin faxes her, tells her he’s bringing the group to base, and that he asked her to tell her he’s sorry he didn’t call. And later, when the phone rings in the middle of the night, the petty part of her briefly considers letting it go to voicemail. She picks up and the first thing he offers her is an apology.

“I couldn’t find a fucking phone where we were staying.”

“I didn’t know what was happening, Steve, I can’t– you promised me.” The sentence fizzles out, she feels small saying it. What did he promise her? What can be promised in an environment, in a place that stands upon uncertainty? But still, he promised her a few things before he left, promised communication, promised coming home, and promised never doing it again, shutting down the outfit, no more of this. And she’s not sure he knew what it meant to make those promises, ones that can be so easily broken. 

“It’s not gonna happen again, Josie, I promise. We made it to base, by the way, all good, all safe.” As if on cue, she hears Robin first, hey, Jo! Followed by Eddie’s not the same without you, Joey! Tinny voices made small by all the distance, and she realizes that while part of her misses the place, the process of it all, it’s the people she aches for, good people, good friends, a little crazy, but in the same way she is, and the same way Steve is. But he doesn’t seem too interested in sharing her with them, and she can’t blame him when every minute of this phone call costs twenty-five dollars. 

“I’m glad you made it, how does it look this year?”

“Crowded, I swear there’s more outfits every year. It’s gonna be a cluster summiting with all these bodies.”  

“Hmm, you’re always good at getting the jump though.”

“I try. How– how are you feeling? Doctor next Friday, right?”

“My Friday, your Saturday, yeah. We’re doing alright, they’ve been kicking actually.”

“Really?” Pure wonder crackling over the phone, his voice lifting and breathless, making tight heat curl up in her throat, behind her eyes. Of course, she wishes he were here, and of course, she thinks of the stories every year of wives leaving their husbands because they won’t stop chasing mountains. 

 When she told her friends, her family, that he was still heading out to lead another group, they had looked horrified at the idea. But she also knows it’s a particular situation they’re in. Unplanned, unexpected, but decidedly wanted, by the time they found out she was pregnant, payments had already been made, plane tickets booked, nonrefundable. Clients that know how to throw all of their weight around, very important people with very important wallets giving him their very important money to take them on this very important trip. And so they had to decide some things. Decided that two months out of nine wasn’t all that bad, that five successes couldn’t have just been luck, and that a sixth couldn’t be asking too much more. Thinking these things is different than feeling them, she is now realizing, listening to his voice get caught in static and wind as he tells her how much he loves her and that he’ll talk to her again soon, get some sleep, honey, I love you. 

Yes, different to think about it, plan for it, than to feel it. The bedroom is dark, perfectly silent, perfectly still. She begins to cry with the catch of the phone in the receiver.

…

March, 1990 - base camp

“Who’s that?”

“Who?”

“That chick with Art’s group.” 

“Don’t point, Steven, we’re all friends here. And that’s Jo Taylor, I met her at the airport, real nice, real cool. Also, requisite reminder that fucking at altitude is contraindicated.” 

“Thanks, Rob, yeah, thank you for that reminder.” Robin’s already off as he grumbles, already introducing herself to other strangers weaving in between brightly colored tents and packs. It’s not lost on him that she and Jo are the only two women at base camp, and he’s having a hard time not staring at this woman he’s never met before. Close-cropped hair and flickering hands, sharp, and she seems to have no trouble holding court with her crew, checking over gear, tanks of oxygen, things he should be doing right now, though he’s still stuck staring at her. 

Up here, it’s somehow both bitingly cold and quick to heat with the sun bouncing and bending over the snow, prayer flags pulled taut on lines in the thin air. Everyone has stripped down to base layers, faces whipped raw by the wind, Eddie walking around in a bright orange pair of Patagonia baggies and little else, steaming thermos in hand. And this girl, woman, person, Jo, in a Talking Heads t-shirt and an unzipped shell and leggings, and even with her reflective sunglasses on he can tell the exact moment when she catches him staring at her, her head tilting to the side, slight pull of her brow. He’s walking toward her, crunching over rocks and snow before he can think too hard about how she doesn’t really look interested in making friends with him.

“Hey, I don’t think we’ve met.” He gives her his name with a hand extended, and she takes it, if not a bit stiff, skeptical, offering him her name in return with her hip popped to the side. He watches his own nervous smile in the reflection of her sunglasses. 

“You’re here with Art’s team, right?”

“I am, yeah. And you’re here with Robin?”

“And Ed, he’s, well, you’ve probably met him.”

“Oh yeah, we all know Munson. No oxygen on Mont Blanc is pretty impressive, or maybe stupid.”

“I’d say both.” Her smile glints in the sun, a little stunner of a thing and he knows he’d like to see it again. 

“Both is probably accurate. I knew who you were too, by the way, you didn’t have to introduce yourself like that.” 

“You did?”

“Of course, men’s speed record for El Cap. That’s just impressive if you ask me.”

“Men’s? As opposed to–”

“Women’s.”

“I didn’t know there was a women’s speed record for El Cap.” Her smile slants and she pushes her sunglasses up into her hair, eyes crinkling and squinting in the wind and the sun. 

“There is, I hold it.” 

“Oh, oh, I didn’t– you– I didn’t mean to–” Foot in his mouth and it might as well be down his throat with the way he’s stumbling over his words. She grins, gives his shoulder a squeeze and a shake.

“You’re fine, man, really, just teasing you a little. Is this your first time on Everest?”

“Yeah, you?” He’s not even standing that close to her, but he still notices a freckle somewhere between the round of her cheek and her eye, watches it jump with her smile. She nods, a glance over his shoulder to what awaits them in these next few weeks. A slog, a perfectly graceless suffering. A climb, a brilliant, beautiful thing.

“I’ll see you out on the Icefall, Harrington. It’s nice to meet you.”

…

March 1996 - base camp

“That reporter packed out a fucking espresso maker, can you believe this shit? It’s like goddamn Disney world up here.” Eddie says it just loud enough to garner him a few turned heads as he slumps down in his chair next to Steve, making quick work out of a mug full of instant ramen. 

“I wouldn’t worry about her, Art will get her sorted out before they make it to camp two. I’m just worried there’s gonna be a jam up there. You ever think you’d see the day there’s a line to summit? Because right now, it’s looking like that’s exactly what we’re gonna have on our hands.”

“Any thoughts on how to avoid that?” He hums, pinching off another bite of his clif bar and working his jaw around it, looking out on what seems to be a veritable sea of tents. At least fifteen outfits this year, and all the ragtag debris they entail, lost-looking group members that probably have no business being up here, already hacking into the elbows of their expensive-looking jackets, camping chairs getting knocked over in the wind, boots tucked outside of tents, the sound and smells of human intervention in an otherwise silent landscape. 

“I do, Rob’s not gonna like it though.”

“What am I not gonna like?” A hand on his shoulder, and then a face leaning upside-down over his, almost alien in her round, mirrored sunglasses. 

“Do you know if the other outfits are planning for May tenth?”

“Yeah, as far as I know, same as us. Why?” Easy, all of them easy together, Robin sits down between their chairs, carabiner hooked full of keys jangling at her belt loop. She takes a bite of Eddie’s ramen when he offers her the fork and Eddie grins over the top of her head at Steve, cheshire bright in his thermal and leggings, and suddenly, he thinks, they’re sixteen again, driving cross country to go climb in Yellowstone with a few months worth of part-time job savings split between them. 

“Stevie here wants to be first in line on the Everest Express.”

“It’s not about being first, it’s about not wanting people stuck up there longer than they need to be. If we could just get a couple days–”

“No.”

“Rob–”

“No, Steve. Everybody wants May tenth for a reason. The weather is looking good–”

“The weather is unpredictable and you know it.”

“And, these people need those days to get ready. You start shaving off days and that’s less time they’ll have been at altitude for the last push. This is just the way it is this year, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, and it’s getting worse every year. I really think we’re getting out at the right time, you know, picked the right year to have our last season.” Robin huffs, unfolding her legs and standing back up, shading them from the sun for a moment as she brushes off her cargo pants and runs a hand back through her hair. 

“Look, I’ll take another pass at the weather. Maybe, and that’s a big maybe, we could swing May eighth. But I make no promises.” And then she’s off, wielding her walkie-talkie like a scepter, already rearranging plans in her mind as she ducks back into their comms tent.

He knows he’s frustrating her, bitching about everything, scowling about everything. Eddie had said as much during the first night at base, why are you being such a downer? We’re on a fucking mountain, at least sell it to the customers, man. And he’s right, they’re on a fucking mountain, and it’s beautiful, and it’s brutal, and it’s all the things he’s loved since he started backpacking as a kid. And there are good moments, there are, moments of looking out onto the landscape, the steep tumbling snow and gray slate crags, witchery in the dance and daunt of ice, the near painfully blue sky that can turn dark and mean in a breath. Moments of true awe, and still, still, he knows that he shouldn’t be here, not really. 

Last year, there was a man in their outfit from Texas, brass. Steve can’t remember his name now, but what he can remember is what he admitted to the night before they headed out from base. Everyone had laughed except for Jo and the one other woman who was in their group, when the man confessed that he had forgotten to tell his wife he’d be gone for two months in the spring. And it had been Jo who had plainly asked him if he had any kids, her chin jutted, arms crossed over her chest, her usual all-smiles-all-jokes-but-all-business-lead-guide facade slipping away into something steely, something cold and unamused. Yes, the man had said, two, a boy and a girl. He doesn’t remember much more of that conversation, just that Jo excused herself early from dinner, and when he returned to their tent a little while later, she was already asleep with her back turned to him. 

“You alright?”

“I don’t know, Ed. I’ll be good to lead though, that’s not a problem.”

“I didn’t ask if you’ll be good to lead, I asked if you’re alright.”  Something tight turns in his chest, he keeps his eyes down on his hands, folding and unfolding the empty clif bar wrapper. 

“Yes, no, I knew it was gonna be hard, but this is fucking– something else.” Eddie leans forward, elbows on his knees, brow furrowed, and he’s nodding, and it’s a look of concern. Steve hates it, never the one needing concern, never the one to be concerned about. The leader, right, level-headed, right, no need for concern.

“You talk to Jo today?”

“Last night, she asked if you packed out sticks of butter again this year.” 

“Pfft, of course, a little American comfort at seventeen thousand feet goes a long way. How is she?”

“Doing alright, I think. Had the twenty-week scan on Friday.” He can’t help but smile thinking about it, and Eddie mirrors him, grin spreading and brows raising, oh yeah?

“She found out if it’s a boy or a girl, but she said she’s not gonna tell me until I get home.”

“Well, how about that for a little motivation, huh? I have to admit though, I miss her this year, not the same without her.” Eddie’s smile softens, slighter, sadder, a hand on Steve’s shoulder, and he feels his own face slacken, the ache returning. 

“No, it’s not.” Not letting him fall for long, Eddie gracelessly shrugs his chair closer, arm hooking around Steve’s shoulders, cheek to cheek as he starts pointing out their clients.

“But, think of it this way–” He points to one man, him, another, him, one more, and him.

“Add those three up and you got yourself a nice little college fund.” At the very least, it feels good to laugh, resting his temple on Eddie’s shoulder, letting the sun be the sun, and the moment be the moment. 

“Can’t argue with that.”

“We’re gonna climb that fucking thing on the eighth, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, I think we are.”

“I’m with you all the way, man.” He holds his hand out for Steve, and it’s a relief, he finds, to clasp his hand, to hold onto something. And Eddie’s one last send? His smile turning young and slanted, a little wild. Steve nods. One last send.