#otherwise they're alive and well on ao3 lol

[theharddeck]

california coast in your green eyes || chapter 1/5

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Julie Floyd (OC)

Synopsis: Bob's older sister gets the news that his plane went down during a training drill, and shows up at the hospital at the same time as an arrogant pilot.

Warnings: is this the first fic I've posted without warnings? I guess swearing?

Length: 3.7k

A/N: crossposting from ao3, so if reading on there is easier, here ya go!

“Name, please?”

The MA inside the booth at the base access point didn’t look up as Julie held her ID out the window of the car. 

“Julie Floyd,” she said, proud of the steady way her voice carried, betraying none of the anxiety tightening her throat. 

“Julie Floyd,” the MA intoned, starting to type into the database. He made it through half of her name with his index fingers when his words registered.

“No, sorry,” Julie shook her head. “It’ll be in there as Julia, with an “a”, Julia Floyd.”

The MA sighed, backing up over the letters at a pace that it would be flattering to call glacial. 

Julie made herself let go of the steering wheel, counting her breathing as the search ran. 

Inhale - two - three - four, exhale - two - three - four. 

She flexed her fingers in her lap; she’d been clutching the steering wheel since she’d left her shift at Rady Children’s Hospital, after getting the call she’d been fearing since Robbie enlisted.

Robbie’s going to be fine - two - three - four, will this database fucking hurry up - two - three - four.

The computer gave a self-satisfied chirp as her picture popped up on the screen inside the booth, and Julie sat up sharply.

“There it is,” she said, hands back on the steering wheel, impatient, “matches my ID and everything.”

“Sure does,” the MA drawled. He clicked around on her profile, looked down at her ID, and didn’t seem to be in any kind of hurry, despite the way Julie’s foot hovered dangerously close to the accelerator. “And who are you here to see?”

“My brother,” Julie said. “Lieutenant Robert Floyd.”

The MA nodded, his mouse hovering over the note on whatever profile of hers he was viewing, that confirmed as much.

“Hmm,” he hummed.

Julie thought she might crack a tooth. “What is it?” she asked, voice as patient as she could manage. 

The MA shook his head. “Sorry, but I don’t see you on the list for visitation today for your brother—”

“My kid brother,” Julie said, knowing interrupting was high on the list of Things Not To Do To The Man Who Gets To Decide If You’re Allowed On Base Or Not , but past caring, “whose airplane swallowed a pelican and crashed somewhere between here and Nevada, and who’s being monitored in the infirmary right there.”

She didn’t look away from the man as she pointed to the nondescript white rooftop behind a couple of other buildings inside of the base.

The MA followed her hand, then looked back at her, appraising. 

Julie knew what he saw—someone way too tall for both the Camry she drove and the purple scrubs she wore, curly hair pulling out of a hurried French braid, brown eyes just crazed enough to indicate that she knew how thin of ice she was treading on, but was going to keep on treading whether it held her or not.

He opened the gate.

Julie smiled a tight-lipped thanks, taking back her ID and a parking badge before rolling up her window and pushing the Camry up to the 25mph speed limit as quick as she could. 

Robbie’s going to be fine - two - three - four, please park the car without totalling it so you can go in and see for yourself - two - three - four. 

It was late afternoon, getting closer to evening, and parking was hard to come by, as folks had already settled into the evening. When Julie found a spot, she hoped the parking slip she left on the dashboard was a strong enough argument against the 15-minute Parking Only sign in front of it, and jogged towards the infirmary.

The nurses here know what they’re doing - two - three - four, having a panic attack in public will help no one - two - three - four. 

Julie blew out that last breath for a little longer, then pasted a smile on her face as she pushed open the doors of the infirmary. The nurse at the desk was a civilian, and gave her the room number with an empathetic expression, along with a warning that they were still running diagnostics, and she might not be able to go in yet.

Julie followed the winding hallways, feeling her heartbeat pounding in her sneakers. They squeaked on the linoleum and when she got to the holding room, the door was closed. Julie glared at it for a moment, and then folded herself into one of the chairs in the hallway, pressing her shaking hands together. 

He’s fine - two - three - four, he has to be fine - two - three - four. 

She pushed out of the chair, absolutely unable to sit still. She paced the floor in front of the room, her steps silencing as she focused on rolling her sneakers against the wax, learning the pattern. There were fourteen linoleum rectangles between the door to Robbie’s room and the next one, and Julie crossed them quickly, turning sharply at the end of her pace, and sweeping down to the door on the other side.

Agnostically, intellectually, she knew that the lack of activity was good. 

As an OR nurse herself, Julie knew that if something were dangerously wrong, there’d be a rush of personnel swarming in and out of the room. But the hallway was quiet, and the room behind it was quiet, and it was all quiet, which was good, except quiet meant the only thing Julie could hear was her thoughts, which were loud to start with—

“Not exactly the most reassuring sight.”

Julie stopped short, her sneakers squeaking as she turned to find a man halfway out of flight coveralls stalking down the hallway. He was tall, maybe even taller than her, and the echo of his boots matched the slight Texan accent she thought she’d heard on his voice. 

“Pardon?” Julie managed, not making sense of his words. 

“A man hears his team go down on the radio, comes to check in on ‘em, and finds the nurse on the verge of a panic attack in the hallway,” the man said. He shook his head, as he got closer, the calmness in his tone belying the tense set of his shoulders. “Doesn’t exactly instill confidence, does it?”

Julie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. 

“These aren’t regulation—” Julie started, then cut off when the man’s eyes flitted down to run over her not-Navy-issued scrubs; she crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t work here.”

He processed that information well, in that he seemed to not process it at all, continuing on his path. He stopped in front of Robbie’s door, looking like he might knock, and Julie moved with years of nursing instinct, putting herself in front of the door to stop him from disturbing.

“Doctors are still finishing their assessment,” she said, tone professional, before the consequences of her movement registered.

It was a thin hallway to start with, and in wedging herself between this stranger and the door, she’d left barely any room at all between them. They were nearly eye level, and this close, Julie noticed his were green, stark against the tanned skin of his face. She also noticed there were some smudges on the white of his undershirt, and a thin veil of sweat coasted across his neck, as if he really had rushed here from wherever he’d been when he heard the radio call. His shoulders went back slightly, and when she looked back up at him, he seemed both disproportionately pleased and unsurprised to have caught her looking. 

The man raised an eyebrow, making no move to step back. “Thought you didn’t work here,” he said.

His voice sounded different this close. 

Not deeper, but like she could hear the way amusement colored it richer. Julie resisted the urge to clear her throat, and tipped her head to the side, looking pointedly at his still-raised hand. 

“Doesn’t mean I don’t know the breaks,” she said, pleased with how unaffected her voice sounded. 

“And the breaks say I can’t check in on my friends?”

Julie’s eyes narrowed for a moment; she knew next to nothing about this man, but she doubted he was the type to befriend someone as shy as Robbie. And just a moment ago, he’d called them his team…

Ah, he’s here for the pilot, then.

Robbie hadn’t told Julie much about the pilot he flew with, but Julie knew she was damn good, and if the woman was half as pretty as her Instagram, it made sense that the cowboy was here for her. 

Mystery solved, Julie lifted her chin. “The breaks say you don’t barge into a patient’s room while people who know what they’re doing are in there.”

He watched her for a moment longer, then shrugged, stepping back. Julie would’ve gloated, but she was interrupted by the sound of the door opening behind her. The doctor stepped into the hallway, shutting the door behind him, and looking between Julie and the pilot.  

“Oh, visitors,” the doctor said, bereft of enthusiasm. “Not much to see—we’re holding them overnight for observation, but they should be just fine. Nothing broken, no concussions, just fading adrenaline and routine soreness/bruising that come with landings like that one. A nurse is wrapping up their vitals, but when he’s done, you’re welcome to visit briefly. Do try to let them get some rest.”

The doctor nodded, then stepped between the two of them before continuing down the hallway. Julie stared after him, relief crashing over her as his words sank in. 

Nothing broken, no concussions, just fine.  

Robbie was going to be okay.

It’s what the infirmary had told her, when they dialed his emergency contact number and found an overbearing older sister on the other end of the line, but to have it confirmed, to have it verified by a doctor who’d just come from the room—

“Didn’t think I’d miss it, but maybe you should try that panic breathing again.”

Julie glared at the pilot, hating that he was right—she did need to breathe. She pulled in a breath, promptly choked on it, and held up a hand in his direction to warn him to not say a word, rather than assure him she was okay as she coughed.

Not that he even cared.

Not that she cared that he didn’t care. 

Inhale - two - three - four, please don’t further embarrass yourself in front of the arrogant pilot - two - three - four.

The world felt like it was tipping back onto its globe stand and when Julie opened her eyes, she figured she must be still oxygen-deprived, because there was no way the pilot was looking at her with concern. 

The door creaked open, emitting a lanky nurse. 

“He fell asleep, but if you want to go in, you can,” he told them, leaving the door open as he continued down the hall. When Julie looked back to the pilot, his expression was changed, replaced by nonchalant ambivalence.

“You gonna pass out on me,” he asked, “or can I go see my team?”

Julie straightened, running a hand over her hair, wishing absently that she’d used her waiting time to re-braid it. Robbie thought she was stressed out enough, without her showing up looking like she’d stuck her fingers in an electrical socket. Her eyes flicked out to the shoulder of the man’s flight suit, finding the insignia there before she answered. 

“Your concern is touching, Lieutenant,” she said wryly, and she turned to step into the room before he could. The room was dark, the curtains drawn and most of the light was coming from the hallway, now blocked by the pilot as he followed her in. 

As the nurse had said, Robbie was asleep. 

His face was sideways on a stack of hospital-standard pillows, and Julie felt her heart settle seeing him there. He had a couple of scratches across his face, nothing too deep, and he seemed mostly unharmed, as the doctors had promised.

Julie crossed the room to pick up the clipboard at the edge of the cot, reading through the listings the nurse had left.

He seemed okay. He was going to be okay. 

Julie flipped to another page, pressing a hand over her still pounding heart. 

“Phoenix.”

“Hangman.”

Julie looked up at the hushed exchange. The woman in the bed parallel to Robbie’s was beautiful, even with exhaustion under her eyes and a couple matching scrapes, and she lifted her chin as the man from the hallway stood at the foot of her bed.

“Coyote with you?” she asked.

“Nah,” the lieutenant looked down, and if Julie didn’t know better, she’d say he looked sheepish. There seemed to be a fair share of history between the two of them, not all of it amicable, and Julie wasn’t sure what it meant.

The woman hummed, processing that. “Rooster doing okay? Must’ve been rough over the radio.”

The lieutenant laughed, a short sharp sound, rubbing his jaw with one of his hands. “Y’all are the ones who went down, Phoenix; don’t worry about Rooster.”

“So what does it say, is he okay?”

Julie realized the question was directed at her when both of them turned to her. The woman’s dark eyes were intense and Julie nodded, setting the clipboard down as quietly as she could. 

“He’s good,” she told her, mirroring their hushed tones to keep their conversation quiet and Robbie sleeping. “Want me to check yours?”

She shrugged, and Julie crossed the room to the other bed, picking the clipboard. 

Natasha Trace was the name at the top of the sheet, so Julie assumed Phoenix was her callsign.

Her stats looked comparable to Robbie’s, her blood pressure sitting a little higher, which tracked. Julie scanned down the rest of the page, and she felt her neck prickle as she continued to read. When she looked up, she saw the lieutenant hadn’t moved from his position at the foot of Natasha’s bed, and was watching her intently from just over her shoulder. She could feel how close he was standing, and his gaze was just as intense as Natasha's had been, but it felt different. 

“Do you mind, Houston,” Julie mumbled, flipping to the next page and refusing to look at him. 

“Dallas,” he said, and she could hear the smirk on his voice, “but I won’t hold it against you.”

Julie’s eyebrows lifted, scanning the chart. “God forbid someone thinks you’re new money, right?”

Natasha snorted and they both looked up at her. 

“I was worried for a second,” she shrugged, “thought you came in with him.”

“I’m just here for Robbie,” Julie said, setting down the clipboard. “And your chart says the same as his: overnight monitoring is just protocol, and you’ll be good to go the moment they release you.”

Natasha nodded. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Julie walked back over to Robbie’s bed, trying to stop herself from fussing with the pillows under his head. 

There was a small table by the headboard, and Robbie’s wire glasses were folded on top of them. The lenses were smudged, and Julie picked them up, cleaning them with the hem of the top of her scrubs. The room was quiet for a moment, just a moment, before the pilot cleared his throat again.

“ Robbie , huh?” he asked, curiosity in his voice.

Unfortunately for him, it wasn’t any of his business how she was related to her brother, especially since he couldn’t decide if they were teammates or friends, and Natasha’s reaction seemed less friendly than either.

“Yep,” she said, noncommittally, switching to the other lens.

“You know,” he continued, doggedly, “the guys and I were trying to figure out what Bob stands for and—”

Julie wished she were holding something a little less precious than Robbie’s glasses, so she could have chucked it at the man, or at least slammed it down on the table.

“He’s named after his father and his grandfather, asshole, and I know this kind of thing is routine for pilots like you, but if you could give me thirty seconds of silence to process that my baby brother is actually doing alright after crashing into the side of a mountain, that would be great.”

Their voices had been hushed since they came into the room, but the beeping of machines around them seemed extra loud in the silence following Julie’s outburst. The light was still behind the pilot so Julie couldn’t see his expression, but he held up his hands in a placating gesture.

“You’re Jules?” Natasha asked quietly.

“Julia,” she corrected, her chest feeling tight at the nickname her family used for her, surprised to hear it from Natasha. “Um, Julie’s fine.”

Natasha had a strange expression on her face. 

“He said you’d be freaked,” she said, almost smiling. “Asked the nurse if he could change the emergency contact so it would go to your folks and you wouldn’t panic and come over here.”

Julie shook her head, looking down at her brother. “Lucky for him that they didn’t; I would’ve been even more pissed if I’d heard it from them.”

Natasha shifted on her bed, then looked back to the lieutenant. “Hangman, want to get me a Snickers or something?”

The man blinked. “What?”

“Skittles are fine, too, or a Reese’s. Vending machine’s at the end of the hall.”

Julie looked at the lieutenant, waiting to see if Natasha’s play would work.

He rolled his shoulders, crossing his arms. “I know what you’re doing, but I’m letting it happen,” he told Natasha.

Julie felt his eyes on her, but she looked down at the glasses, and after a moment’s hesitation he left the room. Natasha sighed, a sound that wasn’t really meant to be heard, and she pushed herself up slightly in the bed.   

“The button’s by your left wrist,” Julie told her, getting the firm impression that Natasha accepted help even less than she asked for it.

Natasha grunted, then rolled her eyes, forgoing adjusting the bed to push herself up to sitting. She was a couple inches shorter than Julie, and even in her hospital gown, she had an air of intensity about her that was intimidating. Julie left the glasses back on the table and leaned against Robbie’s bed to face the pilot. 

“So what did you want to say to me?” she asked Natasha. 

The other woman looked over at her, then past her to the bed, her expression softening when her gaze landed on Robbie.

“I’ve got two brothers,” Natasha said. “Twins. They’re twelve now, you know, not like we grew up together. Not like…”

She trailed off, and Julie knew where the comparison was going. She wasn’t interested in placing blame any more than she was in getting an apology, plus she figured whatever she wished hadn’t happened, Natasha wished it harder.

“He called me when they pulled him to TOPGUN,” Julie said quietly. “I don’t know any more than I’m supposed to, obviously, with everything about this mission be classified, but I know he’s real proud to fly with you.”

Natasha cleared her throat. “Me too. He’s sharp and he’s sweet, which is more than I can say about most of my peers.”

Julie smiled, and she imagined both of them were envisioning a Texan lieutenant. 

Natasha smiled too, a tentative thing, then she sobered. “I don’t carry being his pilot lightly. That…that’s all I wanted to say to you.”

Julie looked at her, and their gazes held. In Natasha’s eyes, Julie saw her hunger and her determination, but underneath it, that duty she felt. To her brother, to the team, and Julie knew that was better than she could hope for.

“Thank you,” she said.

Natasha nodded. 

She lowered herself back to her elbows, then all the way back to the bed, wincing as she adjusted.  

“Hangman’ll be back in a minute,” Natasha said to the ceiling. “I’d apologize for him, but he’s always like that. He’s damn good, and walks around like he knows it.”

Julie figured as much. 

“Saving this one,” she tipped her head back to indicate to her brother, “most pilots seem to have that in common.”

Natasha grinned, not offended in the slightest that she hadn’t been excluded from that generalization. 

“Unfortunately for all of us, Hangman’s actually right; he is the best. Unless Rooster can get out of his own head…” She cut herself off, shaking her head. “You don’t need to know this. Anyways, if you want to take a lap, I’m sure Hangman will be gone when you’re back, and you can wait on Bob to wake up.” 

Julie could appreciate a bit of strategy. 

She stood, looking down at her brother’s sleeping form. She brushed some of his hair off his forehead, a motion pulled from memory. 

“I left my car in 15-minute parking,” she told Natasha, “let me find it a permanent spot. You need anything while I’m up?”

Natasha waved a hand airily, her eyes already closed. “I’m good; I have a vending machine candy on the way.”

Julie nodded, her hand falling to her side as she walked away from the bed. 

Outside in the hallway, she paused for a moment, her back pressed against the wall of the room she’d just walked out of. Her eyes closed briefly, and Julie dropped the vestiges of composure she’d held in the room. He was okay, and he was going to continue to be fine. Meeting Natasha had only confirmed that. 

Julie blew out a slow breath, opening her eyes, and stepped away from the wall. She started down the hall and then remembered the direction she’d come from, and switched, heading back to the parking structure. As she approached a corner, she heard boots echoing on the linoleum, and checked the bubble mirror hanging above the blind corner to confirm who was walking towards her.

“Lieutenant,” she said calmly, stepping aside and not breaking her stride as she rounded the corner.

“Julia,” he said, equally nonplussed.

Julie turned sharply, stopping before the corner obscured him. 

“No one calls me Julia,” she called to his retreating back. “It’s Julie, to you.” 

He turned around, a Twizzler hanging out of his mouth. She noticed he had unopened bags of Skittles, Reese’s cups, and a Snickers, all of Natasha’s requests. He pulled the red candy out of his mouth like a cigar, pointing it at her. 

“It’s Jake, then,” he said, and took another bite of the Twizzler, somehow managing to smile around it, “to you.”

Julie turned again and he did the same, walking away from the corner and the rounded mirror and the man whose boots echoed down the empty hallway. 

[musette22]

Sorry Minnie but I wanted to rant for a second about this post I saw about Stucky being dead and my rant turned into a Stucky history lesson 😅

So Tumblr's 2022 Year In Review came out and Stucky is still one of the most popular ships on Tumblr (#30). In 2014 Tumblr added ships to their Year In Review and Stucky came in at #17. Stucky was in the top 10 in 2015, 2016, and 2018. It was in the top 20 in 2019, 2020, and 2021. It was actually #11 in 2021. With the exception of 2017 Stucky has been on the list every time. Although in 2017 instead of listing the top 100 ships they only went up to #30 so Stucky was more than likely still in the top 100.

According to the Year In Review as well, despite Endgame and no new content this year, Stucky was the most popular MCU ship by a wide margin. With the exception of last year it has always been the most popular MCU ship on the list.

Also the guys from Buzzfeed Unsolved did this Top 5 show series on Tumblr. One episode was about ships and according to the list of most popular Tumblr ships the only ship that is more popular than Stucky is Destiel.

And then there's Ao3. In 2013 someone started compiling ship stats. Every year since then they release a top 100 list of the most written for ships for that year. Stucky has been on the list every year. It was actually #76 in 2013 which is kind of amazing considering Cap 2 hadn't come out yet and that's the movie that caused such a huge boom in the Stucky fandom. Then starting in 2015 the author started releasing a list of the overall most written for ships. In 2015 Stucky came in at #7. From 2016-2018 it came in at #5 and from 2019 til now Stucky has been the 4th overall most written for ship on Ao3.

Stucky is the second most popular ship on Tumblr and the 4th most popular ship on Ao3. So while it's annoying I also kinda have to laugh when someone tries to say Stucky is dead because the facts prove otherwise.

Sorry this got so long and I know I'm a weirdo for it but I got really into my research and had to share it with someone lol.

Ummm... oh my god?? This is incredible? 😯

You really did your research, nonnie, and I, and I'm sure many others, are very grateful for it!! You're not a weirdo at all, this is very cool imo! This is such a wonderful breakdown with some really amazing numbers to back up your claim that Stucky is alive and kicking 🙌🏼 Antis and such looove to claim Stucky is dead, but they're full of shit and your research proves it (if the fact that we can see first hand every day that the Stucky fandom is going strong here on tumblr didn't disprove their claim sufficiently already). Ignore the haters, darling! 💗 Stucky is one of the most powerful and enduring ships out there, and there's nothing anyone can do about it 🤷🏻‍♀️

[star-going-supernova]

Hi, I already commented on AO3 (Shealpha4016) again great chapter, but I was scrolling through BATIM on here and a thought hit me. All humans are given titles by the toons. Even Sammy and Norman who became ink beings. They're the Prophet and the Projectionist.

Joey is the Builder and the Liar. He built the machine that gave them physical form, he built the studio that introduced them to the world. He lied to everyone in and outside of the studio. Lied about their existence and about his goals. Sometimes even tried to claim himself as the Creator.

Henry is the Creator because he literally created most of not all of the toons. He loved them with everything he had, to the point in some universes they can recall memories from when they were just drawings. His love gave them some form of life before the machine was even an idea.

So what would they call Audrey? Yes she's a child of the machine but she's also much more. She's the only ink being to leave the machine. She has powers. She passes as human so we'll not even she knew otherwise. But what makes her important in terms of titles is that she's an animator.

She clearly has a lot of skill and is trusted with large amounts of work while alone. In the beginning of the game she's nearly alone in the building and is working on OVER 800 frames. She clearly loves the toons she draws, just look at her office and when she meets Baby Bendy. She talks to the pictures as if they're alive and she believes it. Allison risk herself to help Audrey, clearly feeling a pull even if it's not as strong as the one she feels to Henry. (Leaving her and simply giving advice vs bringing Henry to the safe house.) So what title would she have?

Maybe Animator? (It would hold much more meaning among toons than humans like Creator, Builder, and Liar.) Maybe Life Bringer? (She helps breathe life into them in the world outside the machine.) Apprentice? (She's following in Henry's footsteps.)

Sorry if this is long. The thought just kept building and I had to share it with the person that got me hooked on BATIM.

I think, for Audrey, I would make it a case-by-case situation. The other humans with titles have a cemented purpose to them, i.e., they were these things almost prior to the toons meeting them. Henry's the Creator and Joey's the Liar almost from before the beginning. Those were the most fundamental parts of them to the toons.

The titles are, interestingly, definitions as much as placeholders. At first, the toons didn't know who those humans were beyond what they were. Norman and Sammy didn't become characters, not like Allison and Tom did. They were reduced to something nameless, but also to a base part of them: Norman's job and Sammy's descent into madness.

And those titles were universally agreed upon because they functioned in place of those humans' names. Those titles simply were.

All that to say that I think Audrey's title would change depending on who was coming up with one because no way would everyone in the inky realm agree on a single title. I really like the idea of the Animator to go along with the other "job" titles, and I especially really like the idea of it becoming Little Animator for many because, hey, some of them were animators too, and she's so young compared to them.

I could see the Ink Demon, because he enjoys tormenting her, always using the Daughter of Drew. Post-game antagonistic siblings relationship for the win, lol.

I think Allison wouldn't use a title because she considers Audrey her friend, and to know and use a friend's name is a wonderfully special thing in a world where amnesia plagues many.

Less of a title from memory!Joey, but when I'm feeling kind to him, I've gotten myself attached to the idea of him calling her "my miracle," instead of other pet names for kids.

I was going to include a tiny two-paragraph snippet for Henry, but nearly two hundred words later, I figured I may as well just write the fic! So that's in my WIPs now, lol.

I honestly love the title thing, so thank you, friend, for sharing your thoughts and making me think about Audrey's place in that! And I'm honored to have dragged you down—I mean, welcomed you to the fandom!

[eyndr-stories]

Howdy, traveler!

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The Stranger The Better - A finished Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach fanfic! In Summary: Reader is a forever exhausted young adult who has social difficulties doing their best to pay the bills, so when they get hired at the well-paying, almost entirely automated Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizza-Plex, they don't really hesitate to think things through before stumbling headfirst into a horror mystery surrounding this company and its crew of quirky (and surprisingly kind) animatronics.

To Be Human - A finished Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach fanfic! In Summary: In a distant future where humans no longer roam the Earth and the sentient robots they left behind are left with little to no clues as to the lost history of their inherited world, Sun and Moon take up the title of scientists and endeavor to create their own human in their lab (that's where you come in!) in order to shed light on the mystery that is the lost history of the human race. Shenanigans and existential dread ensue as you, a funky little lab creature given sentience, attempt to puzzle out what it really means to be human.

To Be Alive - A finished Five Nights At Freddy's: Security Breach fanfic! Also a continuation / part 2 of 'To Be Human'. In Summary: At long last, the thrilling continuation of 'To Be Human'! There are more shenanigans for Star and co to get up to, and new horrors to be subjected to! Not to mention, Eclipse is still at large and up to no good... As 'To Be Human' is a self contained stand-alone story, one could very well choose to leave the adventure as is! Considering there are some heavier themes in this one (biggest thing here being death, specifically) that's exactly what I would recommend you do if you like everything very much the way it ended in 'To Be Human'. This story is an exploration of a few ideas I wanted to work with left over from the first story, and a way to tie up some very minor loose ends, as well as a return to some characters and a world I had a lot of fun with.

Chester and the Jesters - A finished Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach fanfic! In Summary: The new tech sure does seem a little strange. Chester (at least, that's what their name tag says) doesn't seem as concerned as they should be about the high turnover rate here at Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizza-Plex, or the numerous rumors about what happens to people who take the night shift. And to make matters worse, there seems to be some kind of criminal on the loose! The cops say they think the criminal is hiding out in the woods somewhere near the pizza-plex. Stress is high at the plex these days, but Chester is stoic as ever. Say, come to think of it, no one can seem to remember where Chester's application went or who they interviewed with. Their employee file is misplaced or missing just like everything else in this place. But the new tech does a good job completing their tasks, and has their own badge and everything, so of course they must belong here. It's not like someone would sneak into the plex and go this far out of their way to impersonate a low level technician. Right??

I Think I Smell A Rat - A finished Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach fanfic! In Summary: Being a robotic repair rat who lives in the walls of the pizza-plex is a pretty great gig, all things considered! You fix the wires instead of chew them, and you get into tight spaces those silly humans can't reach and fix things up behind the scenes. You do your little tasks diligently, and all is well. That is, until one night when you realize all of your other repair rat friends have gone missing, and almost all of those animatronics outside the walls are acting strange… You aren't sure what it is that needs fixing, but by golly you'll fix it! You just might need a little help along the way…

THE SQUEAKUEL - Epilogue to 'I Think I Smell A Rat'! Just a silly little thing, all chill fluff. You and your rat friends play games with Sun and Moon!

Did It Hurt When You Fell? - A short little scenario request from ShiraCheshire on Ao3! Same universe and characters as 'I Think I Smell A Rat'. No prior reading required. This is a very detailed repair scene! We dive paws first into the noggin of our favorite blorbo :) And there's a few nifty little tidbits about repair rats as well!

We'll Need To Invest In Parachutes At This Rate - A short scenario request from FormDrop on Ao3! Same universe and characters as 'I Think I Smell A Rat'. No prior reading required. This is a sort of other side of the coin of the last chapter (Did It Hurt When You Fell?), where this time its Sun & Moon helping you after you've sustained some pretty gnarly damage!

Tea Time Tall Tails - A short scenario request from The_TRUE_Fanfiction_Princess and Gaiko on Ao3! Same universe and characters as 'I Think I Smell A Rat'. No prior reading required. Basically Sun, resident expert on having fun, teaches a bunch of robo rats how to get silly! Just a cute fun little chapter ^_^

Untitled Goose Fic - It's a lovely night in Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizza-Plex, and you are a horrible goose. Super short, just a single chapter, and packed full of silly shenanigans! You are a goose a la 'untitled goose game' and you decide to have some good silly goose fun for a night in the plex! You confuse and maybe even befriend baffled animatronics and knock a lot of things over and do a considerable amount of honking. That's all, its just a silly fun little fic! Enjoy!! <3

Across The World - Original story written by yours truly! 8 chapters, fully completed. Summary: The gods of this world are ancient, most of them forgotten, or nearly so. Nomen has been taught not to make deals with any old gods, should they be unlucky enough to come across one. However, when their little brother Maribus stumbles into mortal peril, they find they have no real choice but to accept the trials of one such god in order to save him.

[buckyismybicycle]

language of flowers (Florist!Bucky x Reader) one-shot

Title: language of flowers (Florist!Bucky) [Bucky Barnes As SERIES HERE] (AO3 Link) Pairing: Florist!Bucky x Reader Rating: General Audience, 1K Tags/Warnings: PURE FLUFF AND NOTHING ELSE Summary/Author’s Notes: Just a short, sweet treat, so you're not all going to die when I post the next ones in this series because they're all smutty as hell LOL (AO3 Link)

The last thing you expected when you walked into the flower shop was to see a lumbering tower of a man behind the counter. His brows were furrowed as he stared down at something on his desk, making him look disgruntled.

The door had been propped open so as you stepped inside, he didn’t immediately look up. You felt bad for interrupting, but you were on your way to work, where your best friend would be returning for her first day back since being in the hospital. You decided to take a look around first, to see if maybe you could get inspired.

“Hi, can I help you with anything?” A man’s voice startles you as you stare at the endless colours in the shop.

“Oh, um, hi! I didn’t want to bother you, so I started peeking around,” you smile. The man was definitely taller than you by a long shot, with broad shoulders and his hair tied back in a messy bun. His eyes were gorgeous now that you could see them, and he looked quite serene when his face wasn’t screwed up in concentration.

“Year end,” he explains. “Math makes me angry.” You laughed out loud and his abruptness, and before you could feel bad, he smiled back.

“Math makes me angry too, because I’m an accountant,” you offer.

“Oh God, math everyday? You’re looking for black roses, then.” You tilt your head, curious.

“Black roses?”

“They stand for sorrow and despair,” he tells you. “Among other things, but I think it’s fitting for your suffering.” You can’t help but laugh.

“Well lucky for me, I’m not here to buy sorrow flowers for myself! My friend’s first day back to work is today. What flowers would best say ‘Happy first day back from breaking your leg, don’t do it again, you idiot’ or, you know, something along those lines.”

His eyes shine and crinkle when he laughs, and it’s a beautiful sound.

“Unfortunately, there’s no flower that just carries the meaning of ‘you idiot ’, otherwise I’d fill my best friend’s apartment with them daily. But, we can go with daffodils? They symbolize hope or rebirth, but most people use them as a sign of resilience. They’re strong little guys that survive long winter storms, you know? We can throw in some heathers and baptisia, which stand for protection. Don’t want them breaking their leg again, and all. The purple will look nice with the white and yellow.”

“That sounds great!” You agree automatically, in awe of his expertise and how easily he tells you these facts that you never knew. “So, every flower has a meaning behind it?” He smiles at you and nods.

“Flowers are a language all on their own,” he states as he gathers the flowers needed for your bouquet. It comes together in his hands so easily that you can’t help but watch. For such large hands, they move delicately with practiced ease.

“How did you get to learning all this?” You ask curiously.

“My best friend? The idiot that I mentioned? His mother was a florist. I helped around her shop since he was allergic to just about everything, and he had asthma. I didn’t mind, she was basically my mother too.”

“That’s so sweet!”

“Sarah Rogers was one hell of a woman,” he agrees. You pick up on the was part - and also pick up on the fact that her name was the same as the sign outside. Obviously not a coincidence.

“I’m sorry,” you respond, but he shook his head, a few loose strands of his hair dancing in his face.

“She’d been sick for a while, but she always seemed more alive in her shop. When she passed… Well, it was devastating, but we wanted to carry on her dream, so here I am.”

“That’s really incredible.” He smiles at you before ringing you up, handing you the beautiful arrangement. “Thank you so much, this is perfect.”

“My pleasure. Hope to see you around,” he salutes before going back to his finances.

The next day, you get a surprise on your desk - looking around, it seems you’re the only one with a small box on your desk. In a neat, wooden square with a purple ribbon, are a few beautiful white flowers. Thankfully, there’s a note:

Calla Lilies - Magnificence & Beauty

It’s not signed, but you have a pretty good idea who sent them - and that made you giddy. Unfortunately, the shop was closed before you could get off work, but you vowed to stop in tomorrow.

The next day at work, there’s a tall, slender vase with two bright sunflowers on your desk.

Sunflowers - Adoration

You make it a point to rush over after work, and wait for him to finish up with the other customers before talking to him. He looks just as relaxed and confident as he did last time, his easy smile and kind eyes pulling you toward him.

“Hi again,” you greet him, watching in delight as his face lights up.

“Hi again,” he mirrors.

“How did you find me?” You ask him. His cheeks pink as he rubs the back of his neck, and you watch the flex of his arm, the strip of skin that shows above his jeans when his shirt rises.

“Not too many accounting firms nearby and, uh, only one [y/n] at them.”

“My credit card?”

“Your credit card," he confirms. "Sorry, if that's, uh, a bit strong. I didn’t mean anything by it, just thought you could use some flowers in the office and all, it’s - I -”

“Thank you,” you interrupt, with a big smile. “They were beautiful.”

“Yeah?” His eyes light up again before he asks with a wink, “does that mean I can keep sending them?”

“Actually, I have something for you this time,” you bite your lip nervously. “Since, you know, flowers have their language and all.” He looks amused as you reach into your pocket and hand him a perfectly folded origami rose, ruby red. His eyes widen slightly as he takes the delicate paper in his large hands and beams at it, like it’s the best thing he’s ever been given.

“So… Does this mean I get to take you to dinner?”

“How’s right now?” You shrug. He grabs his jacket, and your hand, in haste, switching the OPEN sign to CLOSED as an answer.

💖 Thank you for reading! Hopefully you’ve enjoyed enough to check out the rest of the series!

🙏 Thank you as always for getting to this point! If you’ve enjoyed this, please consider reblogging to help me share 💟

[thelucyverse]

Suburbs fic idea Milippa /2 (1)

When Philippa wakes on the next morning, it is because someone is ringing the doorbell, and for a moment she is filled with limitless rage at being woken when for once she managed to sleep through the night, at being so tired it borders on feeling dead inside, at the frustration of having to be awake and alive.

This is a draft version. Expect nothing else or maybe wait for the finished product on ao3 lol

Note to self: thinking about maybe changing Tilly to another single woman instead? Single mom? Idk... I think Tilly/Chris is interesting, but like, idk

Then, she takes a deep breath and drags herself out of bed, takes her meds, goes looking for her clothes and only briefly goes into the bathroom to make herself look like more of a person. Then, she forces a smile onto her face and faces the world - or rather, the hell that is a small neighborhood.

Her first welcome committee is made up out of a woman and man - the redhead from the window yesterday, and the man presumably her husband from how he's standing next to her, carrying a plate with cake.

"Hi!" the redhead chirps brightly, beaming over her entire face. Philippa doesn't know whether that is making it easier or harder to keep the smile on her own face. Perhaps it's both - annoying yet also contagious somehow, and they cancel each other out.

"I - hello. Do come in."

"Thanks!" the redhead skips inside, followed by the two men who have yet to say a single word. The one holding the cake platter looks a little awkward with it, and Philippa points him to the thankfully already fully built-in kitchen counter, earning herself a grateful smile.

"Oh, I'm Sylvia, but everyone calls me Tilly!" the woman tells her happily and extends her hand. "And this is my husband Chris - oh, did you?"

"Already handed over the cake," Chris says with a fond chuckle, and Philippa smiles, too.

"Yes - thank you, really."

"You're welcome!" Tilly beams. "We're so happy that you're moving in here, the house has been standing empty way too long! And we have a wonderful neighborhood, there's a holiday party and now in the summer there will be barbecues... Um, yes, sorry," she breaks off a little awkwardly when she notices that she hasn't even let Philippa introduce herself.

"Hello- nice to meet you both. My name is Philippa Georgiou, feel free to call me Philippa. I must say, I am not much of a people person myself- I'm sure we will all still get on well, I just thought I would say that immediately, because otherwise you might think I'm standoffish when I really just have a limited capacity of... /people/ energy for a day, I usually prefer the anonymity of the city because of it, but I'm quite burned out from work and got recommended to live in a smaller town to calm down a little."

Tilly gapes at her a little, and Philippa suppresses a wince. She had planned to be honest from the start (well... About all but one thing, at least), so she wouldn't have to start awkward explanations later and get it all over with instead in one go. But maybe that was a little /too/ honest, now...

"Oh, alright," Chris says a little awkwardly, and Tilly finally catches herself.

"I guess maybe we should leave early then, leave you some energy to meet the rest of the street?"

"No, no, don't mind me, I can survive a day of welcomes, and we haven't tried your cake yet... I just meant in general, for the future... Wait, is really everyone going to come today?" Philippa can't keep her voice from showing some of the pain she feels at that thought. She had thought it would only be her direct neighbors, and maybe even then not all in one day, as people are busy with their own lives... But of course, in a town like this most everyone is at home on a Saturday, with nothing else to do but the routine of their daily lives.

"Um... Are you sure that it's fine? I can text and ask whether some can come tomorrow, or on the weekend, if you'd like... If you're okay with them knowing, that is?"

"Yes, thank you, that would be a relief. I don't mind at all," she never caref much about what people think, and in this case she actually likes spreading awareness on the issue, mental illness is still way too stigmatized, when in the current economic climate most can do nothing /but/ work themselves to exhaustion - not that she needs to, not anymore. She got lucky, making as much money as she did during the last years... But in the process, she unlearned what it means to relax and take a minute to herself.

"Alright, then I'll just let everyone know!" Tilly beams, pulling out her phone. "Not that we have, like, a neighborhood groupchat, just several inofficial friendgroup chats, we're all friends here, really"

"Yes?" Philippa asks, sounding perhaps a little too amused and slightly unbelieving now.

"You don't think we'll be friends?" the expression on Tilly's face is the epitome of 'Puppy-dog eyes', and somehow Philippa doesn't think that she is doing it on purpose. Next to her, Chris is looking at her with a quite besotted expression on his face.

"Oh, by the American definition, sure. I would just use the word acquaintance instead, you see? In most places of the world, you don't use the word friends quite so often, just for what you might call best friends here - and we don't have a ton of 'best friends', just one, maybe two or three in a group, and if we move and have a very good friend there that might be my best friend in that town, but it will be clear that it is not the best friend in general. Then maybe a few close friends, a bunch of friends, and friendly acquaintances..."

"And neighbors are just acquaintances?" Chris asks, sounding sincerely curious.

"Friendships can happen there too, but personally I would take even longer to switch the terms there - you're neighbours first and foremost, you have to live in the same area, that's a category all on its own."

"So, you don't think we can be friends soon?"

Philippe laughs. "Maybe we can be. You both seem nice so far, I promise."

"/So far/?" Tilly asks, just a little bit affronted.

"Well, don't know you very well yet, after all. There is more to a person than just whether they are friendly to a newcomer, and there are a number of issues I'd have to know about someone before I can consider them a 'friend'."

Her gaze falls onto the [xx and she xx unhappy memory about one bigot manager oso]

"Oh- ooh, don't worry about that! We're an inclusive bunch, or trying to be. You won't have to worry about-" she nods at xx, "Just down the street Joan and Keyla Owesukan are also a couple - no, married now of course, and we also have a bunch of gay guys, and everyone is just nice in general... So, you don't have to worry about being gay, a single woman Xxlikeherself?, or a witch"

"I'm not a witch," Philippa says a little perplexed.

"Then what are those crystals?"

"Oh, I just think they're pretty. I'm a bit of a magpie, if anything, a hoarder of shiny things..."

"Oh, you'll have to meet Paul then! He's an engineer, but he makes some shiny jewellery in his freetime, and also he's gay, living with his husband Hugh- not that I think you have to be best friends with all the gay people, of course! Just that well, you're here all alone in the big house, unmarried... And he knows everyone in the gay community, I think, might be able to introduce you to some ladies in nearby neighborhoods, I don't think Joan or Keyla would be much help there, they mostly stick to themselves"

Philippa makes a face. "I don't know whether anyone would want to be in a relationship with me, with how much time I need for myself," that had always been true - only in the past, she had retreated to write. Now, she just needs to be alone to breathe. "And I wouldn't want to live with anyone, I'm quite content having the entire house for myself I don't think many people would be willing to have a serious relationship at a distance that way."

Tilly looks like she is about to say something - like maybe, she knows someone fitting to Philippa's description - but then she just smiles.