#they looked like the boy from where the wild things are

[gglitch1dd]

I LOVE YOU GLITCH 🩷🩷🩷🩷 every-time you update im always so excited. Kane becoming part of the family was something I never knew I needed, just imagining him with the littler midoriya’s is so wholesome, I can imagine Shoyo and Koda coming up with silly little nicknames for him or calling him big brother 😭 I’m so glad he has the family he deserves (rot in a dung pile Katsuki 🥰🫶)

I LOVE YOU TOO ANON!!!!

Thank you so much!!<3 And Kane being part of the family does also heal my soul. That poor baby needs kisses and hugs and strawberry fun. He definitely does get very close to Shoyo and Koda especially, cause to them they get a new big brother.

Big Brother Kane

"Kane!"

"Kane!"

"Do it again!"

"I wanna see!"

You heard Kane chuckle as you walked into the lounge where Kane was sitting on the ground with your youngest boys. Shoyo, watched with bright green eyes, his little six year old imagination running wild, while Koda sat on Kane's lap trying to see something that was in Kane's lap.

"Okay, okay." He laughed. Kane smiled, a gentle one that he started to show more and more as he lived with you. You saw him open his hands, soft in their design. And after a second, tiny little pops and fireworks went off in his hand.

Koda let out loud giggle at the sparks as he looked at Kane's hand. Shoyo leaned forward, watching the sparks fly just in the palm of his hands, soft orange little explosions that made Kane's hand warm.

Shoyo let out a coo. "That's so cool!"

"Boom!" Koda made a gesture with his hands like Kane with his sparks. He tried imitating the small little explosion sound.

Kane likes to help you with the little ones a lot. They were too precious for words and maybe in some way shape or form, Kane saw it as healing the little boy in him too. He especially liked Koda. Koda liked warm things, he hated being cold, and Kane was now the next warmest thing in the house other than you and Izuku.

So it wouldn't be strange to see Kane holding Koda as he walked around the house doing whatever he needed to do. Considering Kane was not much of the type of kid to always want to leave the house, he could spend a lot of time with Koda who was always at home.

Kane even learnt from you and Izuku how to help give Koda his medication. Kane felt it unfair that someone so small, only four years old, needed to take dozens of them to keep his immune system up and to help hopefully one day get him a transplant. Until then, Koda had a whole lot of things to take and only could tolerate so many at once.

Often than not when you would try finding Koda in his room to give him medications you'd see him playing a soft music from his phone that Koda seemed to like by the way he would move his head side to side.

"Was mommy teaching you dinosaurs?" Kane asked as he took the syringe and took a measure out of the glass bottle. He lifted up the injection, tapping the body of the syringe, making sure there was no bubbles.

Koda nodded his head excitedly with a smile. "She said that they lived many years ago! Before chickens!"

"Wow! Really?" Kane asked as he walked over to Koda's bed. He moved over to the IV next to his bed that had stickers on it. He stuck the needle into the bag, pushing in the medication.

Koda nodded his head as he kicked his little legs. The IV going into his little arm as he sat in his bed. " Yah! And there was this big one with small arms."

Kane hummed as he took back the needle and moved back to the counter on the otherside of the room, moving to sort through medications. He put down the syringe with a needle, moving to put it into the yellow bin on the wall that would have it sterilised. He got out a plastic kids syringe and took out the edible medication. "Did mommy call it a T-Rex?" He asked softly.

Koda's eyes widened. "Yah! You so smart big brother!" He exclaimed making Kane chuckle as he took out some purple medication into the kids syringe and walked over to Koda, crouching down. "How did it got so big?" Koda asked with a small thumb to his chin.

Kane smiled over at him, crimson eyes soft and gentle. "They took all their medications so that they could be the biggest and strongest dinosaurs." He encouraged, handing over the syringe to Koda.

Koda hummed as he looked down at it. He put it to his mouth and pushed at the back of it. He let go of the syringe making his face scrunch up in disgust. Kane motioned for him to swallow. Koda seemed hesitant but did it. He stuck out his tongue in disgust, making Kane do the same thing. Koda giggled.

A lot of the time whenever you had guests over at your house, you were very strict when it came to who making sure they abided by the health rules of your home by washing hands and being clean and no one could be over if they were sick. And if one of you were sick, it meant strict room arrest.

You just never wanted to infect Koda. However, for precautionary measures, Koda stayed in his room regardless when there were guests over unless it was a big event and even there, you were all careful with him. However, Kane would often disappear to Koda's room to spend time with the little four year old who was often napping anyways and if not was with Shoyo.

Kane wasn't just Kane. He was big brother Kane now, and he took his job, very seriously.

-Glitch1d

[allthornsnopetals]

You are a Fool E.Bridergton

Description: "I'd rather lose an eye than kiss you." Oh, how the times have changed since, Y/n last exchanged words with Eloise. Perhaps, now Eloise wished to kiss the young lady as Suitors sweep the beauty off her feet.

Warning: 18+ content

Y/n rolls her eyes at the sight of her family home, wishing to be back in Paris, sipping wine and indulging in their fruity society. But she had been summoned home after years receiving education in the city of love, and flamboyance. The season is soon to begin and she were to be wed, and soon, God help the man to court Lady Delacour, and her spicy tastes may.

She grimaced, entering the familiar abode, shouldering off her cloak, and handing it to the servant.

"Y/n, how it is good to finally see you again. I see a young Lady had blossomed, let me get a better look at you." Said Edger, Y/n's eldest brother and heir to the Delacour dynasty, his arms stretched out, waiting for them to be filled.

Y/n grinned, gliding with haste to fill her brother's arms. "It is good to finally have you home!" Another familiar voice, male, called, joining the embrace.

"Hello to you, too, Evon." She chuckles, fighting for air as another and another joins the already crowded hug.

"Hamish, you're poking me." Harwin growls, jabbing his twin brother in the rib.

Due to their fighting, the elder siblings broke a part, all but one watching with amusement. "Stop it! Or I'll knock the sense out of you both, no questions asked!" Edger scolds, pointing his finger in their faces, hunched over like he were their mother.

The boys were two years younger compared to Y/n, but they had grown into young men, taller, too. But still, they beaker, unable to control themselves, even now, seconds after she had returned home. Some things just do not change.

Y/n is the second youngest with two elder brothers and two younger ones, all without a sister for almost eleven years, until now as the season of the debutantes begins, calling for the remaining Lady to be courted. She were not the only woman, for a while, that is. Her mother had kept their family in company for most of Y/n's youth, that was until her passing: childbirth, a scary and terrifying way to die, but it took her final breaths and the opportunity for another sister.

Her passing had driven her family into the dark days, she called it. The days of morning, that drew into months and almost a year before her father had sent her away, unable to bear the face that held his late-wife. Sent away for ten years, until she were eligible for marriage. Any remaining rough edges, had been smoothed over, replaced with rounder, softer and smoother ones, instead.

She were a wild one, even before the passing of her mother. Being sent away surely did her some good, if it also didn't make her miss the french and their stunning cities. Men and women were open about their desires, and encouraged others to indulge in the simplest lust or flame, man or woman, thin or thick, white or black. France is the place of love in different fonts and shapes, Y/n took it a little too literally, with her eyes wandering over from men to women, from women to men.

White, black, she ate. Heavy or light, she ate. Men or women, she ate! French men had a talent of mouth and hands, they preferred head or a work of a gentle hand, oh and how they were talented, or obsessed with ass. The men Y/n spread her wings for, always went for head, fingers, or anal, which she finds divine. The women... Oh Y/n doesn't know where to begin, they were skilled with finding the pleasure of their sexual partner, and always aroused some unknown kink.

But now, she were home and a dinner party is to be held in her return, all close to her family is to attend, and Y/n is to get ready.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Not, too tight, is it?" Asked Daisy, your hand maiden, tightening Y/n's corset. She made a small attempt to smile.

"Is my waist, not slim enough?" She asks instead of replying to her question. Daisy simply nods, loosening the reins of the fabric.

A shaky breath of short relief slips past her lips, her eyes closing with a hand smoothing over her stomach, glad the presser had subsided. Y/n had never been one for corsets, always finding them ridiculous, like a certain someone, whom her cheeks still burn for: Eloise Bridergtion, the first person to ever reject a simple peck to the cheek.

"I'd rather lose an eye than kiss you."

She grinned at the last and final memory she shared with her, so young and sure both girls and boys had cooties. Eloise allowed no one, not even her own papa to kiss her cheek or hold her hand. She was so paranoid, she wore gloves to prevent some sort of plague, she were sure it was real.

"Emerald green or sapphire blue." Daisy said, allowing Y/n to peer inside the two containers.

She wondered for some time, biting her lip as she thought. "I have jewels that would look fabulous with the blue gown," She says, gliding her fingers over the fabric. "Sapphire blue, please."

After a few moments, she was ready. Her hair flowed freely, decorated with blue flowers as a half crown. A wide diamond necklace, rounder her neck with pearl sized sapphires clipped to her ears. Daisy worked at staining her lips a shade of cherry wine before tinting her cheeks with peach blush. Lastly her slippers slipped on her feet with a dab of floral perfume on her neck, wrists and jaw.

"Your thoughts, ma'am." Said Daisy, allowing Y/n to admire her work in the vanity mirror.

"Wonderful as always. Come for me when the party begins."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Stop fiddling, you look like a fool." Violet hissed, forcing Eloise to stand up straight and still, for the most part.

"She is nervous, mama. She hasn't seen Y/n for many years, afraid she might not recognize her." Said Daphne, sipping her sparkly liquid, sure to be alcohol.

Eloise stuck her tongue out, not even trying to hide her immature behavior. "Am not. I am perfectly well, just a bit sweaty that is." She jeered, chugging a glass of liquid courage.

Of course she were nervous, jumping on the balls of her feet with anxiety. She has not seen her dear friend, Y/n for ten years, and still she wished to have allowed her to peck her cheek, goodbye. Perhaps, then she would have had a fond memory and not one filled with tears, and anger. Eloise was more than angry to see her leave, and even depressed at not snagging herself a kiss, even if it were an innocent peck on the cheek. She would have cherished it, like her books. She thought of her everyday, staring out the window, hoping to see Y/n walk to steps to her door, but that hope was just that: hope. She thought herself foolish for some time, that was until the invention to the Delacour Mansion arrived, speaking of a welcome home ball for the only daughter, Y/n Eliza Delacour.

Eloise near fainted. She were to see her friend again! To hear her voice again! To finally fill the duo to a trio, once more: her, Pen and Y/n. The golden girls back together again.

But even with such electricity, it were hard on Eloise to not pick up her skirts and run for the hills, and dunk her head in a bucket of cold ice water. For her thoughts have always been far from platonic for Lady Y/n, a girl she wished to have shared a kiss with before her departure, regretting her poorly chosen words.

"I'd rather lose an eye than kiss you."

Eloise still remembered the hot tears streaming down her cheeks, as if it were yesterday, the guilt still so fresh. She was sure she had lost a friend.

"Well, she's right there. If you are so clear minded, go say hello to her." Daphne stepped aside, allowing Eloise to a route to Y/n.

"Righty then, I will." She huffed, sticking up her nose, and marching off.

Oh what the fuck! She thought gliding her way towards Y/n, dodging bodies and frantic house guests, all bubbling with the return of the sapphire of House Delacour.

As she drew closer, the more frightened Eloise became, terror eating at her. Completely ignore Hyacinth, thundering towards her with Gregory hot on her toes. It was far too late, she was already pooling forward, her arms outstretched, lips releasing a gasp.

But the impact to the hard cool floor did not come, she lay comfortably in a set of arms, holding her steadily, combing back runaway hair. "El?" Her stomach churned, the voice so familiar her stomach had a wakened.

Eloise's throat ran dry and tight, her eyes meeting the gaze of her old friend, her cheeks burning with an embarrassed grin, curving her lips. Y/n steered a sound of surprise and excitement, pulling her into her arms.

"It is you! Thank goodness! I almost didn't recognize you. I missed you and Pen. Talking about Pen, where is she?" Y/n mutters, her breath fanning Eloise's ear.

Eloise swallows hard.

I almost didn't recognize you.

Perhaps, she did fear that Y/n would be unable to identify her, thinking she had forgotten the way she looked. But that fear slowly faded as she sank into her arms, taking in her scent with a sharp breath: Oranges, lemons and pomegranates. Oh, how she missed her. She held onto for a moment longer, until the thought of Penelope whisked her mind.

Pulling a part, Eloise avoided Y/n's gaze. As if she knew something were wrong Y/n guided both her and Eloise to the library, where no one was allowed in, making sure to shut the door behind them.

"Ellie, what happened when I was away? Why is Pen not by your side?" Once the words were out, she felt a fool for asking such things.

"There was a falling out." Said Y/n, now knowing why the two peas were not together.

Eloise bit back a tear, nodding in clarification. Y/n sighed, taking her place in her arms, stroking her hair, pulling out built up tears that welled up inside her. No golden girls, after all.

She wept, holding her so tightly, it could break Y/n ribs.

"Tell me what happened." Y/n sat them both down at the cushioned love seat near the back, hidden from anyone who were to burst in.

Eloise sniffled, her hand held into hers, a smile gracing her lips. "You were always the nurse, always caring about us before yourself. Always patching us up with gentle hands and warm arms, never taking a moment peace for yourself." She laughs wetly, wiping her tears with the back of her gloved hand.

Y/n tsk's, swatting her hand from her face, wanting her not to ruin her make up, wiping her salty river away with her finger tips, their gaze finding one another. "Don't, you'll ruin your gloves." She pulls the fabric from Eloise's hands, placing them on the small coffee table, rolling her thumb over her open palm, an old habit, too good for her to ridden.

Eloise shook her head. "No, just tell me everything about Paris and your travels. I want to know. You must have had the best time." She forced a smile, squeezing Y/n's hands, wanting to change the subject.

"Only if you inform me of what happened." Her tone was cool, almost demanding, Eloise didn't recognize the woman in front of her. Couldn't decipher who she was, yes she looked the same—almost, if it weren't for the sudden bloom of her breasts—and even acted the same, with habits she still lingered with and nature she has long but permanently made one with herself. But she were all grown up now, mature and knowing, bold and daring with her tone, her chin held high, eyes leveled and commanding.

Her heart gave a giddy squeeze, if she were to stare at her any longer, Eloise would spill all her secrets. But not tonight, only for tonight she were to explain the happenings between her and Penelope.

She began with her interest in the unmasking of Lady Whistledown, from there everything progressively got worse and impossibly worse, that Y/n had rang for tea, biscuits and all sorts of sweets, sucked away from her own ball, too invested of what she were hearing. Eloise paused, gulping as if she were nervous for the following words.

"If I don't unmask this anonymous author, everyone in town would know... They'll know that I'm," She chokes, head buried in Y/n's lap, soothed by her elegant lull, her fingers combing through her hair. "Say, no more. Pen thinks it unwise to identify, Lady Whistledown. And she won't help it's sim-

"No! I know she is Lady Whistledown— I feel it in my bones and she will ruin me if everyone knew," She lashes out of her lap, tears streaming down her face. "Knew what?" Y/n coaxes her back into her, wiping her tears away, staring down at her.

Eloise sniffles, choking, blowing her nose in a handkerchief. "If everyone knew I were lesbian. Y/n it will ruin my family, greatly."

Silence followed, Y/n frozen, staring down with her eyes agape. Eloise swallowed harshly, fear running through her. Before she could say anything, Y/n was already moving, standing, and beginning to pace, warming herself near the fire.

"Times have really never changed, here?" Y/n gaped, panic rising in her like a forest fire. "Anyone identified as queer would be ruined, even their families... I should have never returned, I should have stayed in Paris, be free to be who I wished. Eloise, would Lady Whistledown, target anyone with queer traits."

"It's Lady Whistledown, what do you think?"

"Noooo, I need to pack and leave. Run back to Paris. Fake my death?" Y/n was beginning to sound crazy to Eloise.

Why is she panicking? Unless... "You're queer..." It sounded more like a question than a statement. Y/n stomps over to her hastily, cupping her hand over her lips, hovering over her, pressing her into the cushions.

"Must you speak so loudly. And if you must know, I'm bisexual. I have been aware of my fruity tastes for a long while, even far before my trip to Paris, only there did I explode myself, if you understand what I mean." She was so close, Eloise could smell her, her scent so intoxicating.

She slowly, slid her palm away, rolling her thumb over her lips, almost relishing in the feeling. "Tell no one." Her voice, smooth and oddly sweet, in her ears.

"Tell, no one got it." Eloise nods, cheeks burning a vibrant pink. "You're blushing. El, do I make you blush?" Y/n grins, leaning closer, her breath tickling her lips.

Her breathing rose, strangling Eloise, realizing if she to move, even in the slightest her lips would meet Y/n's.

Kiss me, god just kiss me. Release me of this burden.

With no answer, Y/n lent into her shoulder, snatching the exposed skin between her lips, bodies pressed together.

"Would, you rather lose an eye than kiss me." Said Y/n, her words passing through Eloise's skin.

Eloise sucked air into her lungs, tilting Y/n's chin, her eyes meeting hers. "I did not mean what I said then. I wanted you to kiss me, take me with you, be with you. Y/n I have hungered for you, for so long," She paused, gaze taking in every detail of the beauty in her view.

"I feared you'll never return, and I'll starve without you. You're my water and my meal, I'll go parch and go hungry without you. No, I'd rather not lose an eye than kiss you." Her words hung in the gap, so true, it made Y/n's heart dance.

Without another word, she dragged her chin, her lips meeting Y/n's. Eloise moaned, fire bubbling in her stomach, a whizzing boom going off in her ears. Fireworks, booming in the distance, sparks flying. She has been waiting for this, waiting for the right kiss, and this was it. In its gentleness something exciting happened, life.

She couldn't stop the smile, glad she had chosen to keep both her eyes and kiss the girl she has been starving for, for so long. "What are you smiling about?" Asked Y/n, breaking the kiss and grinning down at her.

"Nothing, truly." Eloise giggled, thumb grazing Y/n's lips. "Kiss me again." She orders, pulling Y/n back down, slamming her lips against hers.

Hers hands wander down her back, groping Y/n's ass, rewarding her a gasp, allowing a way past her lips.

Y/n straightens herself up, gasping for air, Eloise's hands gripping her hips. "Have you had sex with a woman before?" Eloise's eyes widened, her lips plump and red. "No... Not at all."

"Have you touched yourself." Y/n removed her gloves, tossing them aside, undoing her dress. "Yes, I have." She grinned, pulling her dress over her head.

"Do you wish to have sex?" She asked, stiffing a laugh at Eloise's reaction to her almost bare body.

She didn't say a word, but nodded frantically, working on her own dress, sitting up to allow Y/n to pull it off her. Once removed, their lips met again, a bit sloppily but Eloise wasn't really taking her time, to high on the moment.

Eloise desperately worked at Y/n's corset, wanting it off as Y/n took her time, knowing the thread of corset with her eyes closed. "Slow down, El. I'm going nowhere." She pants against her lips, noting her lids were already lust shot.

"Calm yourself." She tosses her corset before doing the same to Eloise's. Chest bare for only a minute, before Eloise latches her lips to her left nipple, sucking and licking with her right accompanied by her hand, kneading the flesh.

Rolling her eyes back, her head slowly fell back, moans spilling from her lips. Her hand lingered past her panties, fingers passing her folds, working at her pussy, fucking herself. Biting on her lip, she focuses on pleasing herself, rolling her hips in her own hand, mouth agape. Eloise detaches herself from her breasts, allowing her to fall back, watching her fuck herself, legs spread, gaze locked on hers.

"Come here."

She listens and crawls over to her, watching Y/n remove her digest from her cunt, wet and glossy. "Open," She orders, satisfied as Eloise takes her fingers into her mouth, moaning and sucking on them. "Drink me." She coos, pulling Eloise closer, pulling both their panties off, lining their cunts together before dragging her fingers out of her mouth.

"Grind your pretty little cunt on mine, it will make you feel good." She did not have to do much convincing, for it only took Eloise but a moment to adjust herself, starting to rock her hips.

"Like that?" She asks, moving slowly. "Just a bit to the le-"

She threw her head back, Eloise resting her head on her shoulder, moaning as she gripped her ass, speeding up her pace. Y/n held her close, rocking her hips against hers, rubbing their sex together, in a tangle of limbs. Humping harder and harder, Eloise was cutting it close to the edge but Y/n was just getting started, if the two were to both wish to orgasm tonight, it will be a long night indeed.

[tenderleavesbob]

If someone asked the chain about which era they hated the most, Warriors thought almost everyone would say Hyrule's era. Warriors? He hated Wild's era. He hated scrambling to get out of his armor so he wasn't struck by lightning. He hated the lack of memory about the time he was too slow to strip. He hated the sudden rainbursts and what they did to his hair. At the moment, Warriors hated the cold and snow the most.

Wind was dozing on Warriors's back as he trudged through the thigh-high snow. If it wasn't for the vicious cold, Warriors thought Wind would have dozed off by now, but the boy's shivering kept waking him up. He had wrapped his scarf around the boy and Wild had offered some of his special jewelry, but it didn't change the fact that it was freezing.

Time was in the front and helping the others walk through the thick snow. Warriors was normally in the rear to keep an eye on everyone, but due to Wind on Warriors's back, Twilight walked in the back now. Legend and Hyrule huddled together as they walked, and Sky carried Four on his back. Wild was helping Time in the front.

Wild insisted that there was a cabin close by. Warriors hoped so. He felt numb and his legs felt dead from the cold. Dragging them through the snow was a nightmare and Wind's weight on his back was making it worse, although he would never let Wind know that. They had encountered some of Wild's monsters, too, and there were two black-blooded lizalfos in the group. One had struck Wind with ice before Warriors cut its head off. He wished he had moved faster. He wasn't sure about everyone else's injuries, but there were various bloody tracks in the snow. It made Warriors feel sick. He couldn't do a thing to help anyone right now beyond carrying Wind. It didn't feel like enough.

"You're limping," Twilight said worriedly behind him. "Are you okay? I can take Wind."

Warriors grunted. Was he limping? He lost feeling to his legs a while ago. "I'm okay. How does Wind look?"

"Cold," Twilight said. "Are you sure --"

"Smoke!" Four shouted. He yelled right in Sky's ear and made the other hero yelp. While Four apologized to Sky, Time nodded and pointed.

"Right there. That must be the cabin. We're almost there."

Warriors could have cried. He hated the cold so much. He couldn't check on Wind, he couldn't make the chain stop so he could check on them, and his burn scars felt like the cold air was shrinking them. His skin felt too sensitive and tight where he could feel it at all.

Twilight hovered by Warriors's shoulder as they hurried forward. Warriors half-expected him to bound forward to Wild's side, but he stayed close. If a monster appeared right then, Warriors wouldn't need Twilight's help: he would pull out Legend's fire rod and burn everything down.

One by one, they stumbled into the cabin. Wild confirmed it was his friend's cabin as they collapsed inside. Wild started a fire while Hyrule fussed over injuries and Legend and Time ordered everyone to start changing into dry clothes. Sky hauled Four onto one of the couches and then sat on the floor in a tired heap.

Warriors knew he should help, but he was so exhausted he thought his legs would give out. He almost tripped over his own feet as he stepped out of the snow and into the cabin. Twilight stayed close to him to make sure he didn't fall or drop Wind.

Legend glanced at him and his mouth parted to say something guaranteed to annoy Warriors. To Warriors's confusion, his mouth opened and shut several times before the Vet glared at him and put his hands on his hips. "Why didn't you say you were hurt? You should have had Twilight carry Wind, you idiot!"

Hurt? Warriors frowned at him and carried Wind over to the couch. Wind grumbled on his shoulder. He thought Wind had fallen asleep after all. Twilight helped him put Wind down before he started looking Warriors over. "I'm not hurt. I'm just --"

"Bleeding," Twilight said flatly. He pointed at Warriors's leg. Warriors looked down, too.

Snow was melting off his legs. Under his right foot, the growing puddle was a distinct pink. Warriors could see where his pant leg was torn with fresh red blooming on the skin. Warriors leaned down to poke it.

Twilight slapped his hand away. "Stop that!" he snapped. "Sit down. Let me see it."

"I can't feel it!" Warriors protested. He went to poke it again, but Twilight stopped him by shoving him to sit beside Wind. Wind scowled in his sleep and curled up into the couch.

Hyrule glanced at his leg but hurried to Wind first. Warriors tried to help, but Twilight smacked his hands. Annoyed, Warriors smacked his hands back. This started a small slapfight as Time sighed and knelt beside Warriors.

"This looks deep, Captain," he said. Time ignored the faces Twilight and Warriors made at each other. "Your leg is also freezing. You need to strip and warm up."

"That's what I was trying to do," Warriors grumbled. Just to be an ass, he went to poke his leg again. He was starting to warm up and feel the wound. Warriors preferred it when it was numb.

"Idiot," Legend was saying on the other side of the cabin. "Walking around not even noticing he was hurt."

His back was to Warriors. Warriors was tempted to stick his tongue out at him.

"Now, now, children," Sky sighed. He had finished helping Four change into warm clothes and was now changing his own. He looked exhausted. It was almost enough to make Warriors feel guilty. Sky normally refrained from being snarky.

"Yes, children. You're all idiots," Four chimed in. Warriors's remorse died a quick death.

"I didn't --"

"He was --"

"Less complaining and more changing, Captain," Time droned. "You're bleeding all over the floor."

Of all the eras, Warriors knew without a doubt that he absolutely hated Wild's the most.

[yuurivoice]

A few folks seem very intrigued by the somewhat vague pre-BitterSweet ideas I had for Seth I was discussing on stream last night (and a few times before that) so I'll share in my own words here as well!

Seth's embryonic stage was straightforward.

Create a sexy rival for Alphonse who shares a criminal history with him, and wants to use Boo as a means to fuck with Al. Biker bad boy who fucks. That was all there was in the beginning.

From there I considered doing the Good End, Bad End approach that would expand on a concept I tried out with early Alphonse, where Boo and him hooking up on their first night was a non-canon bad end. This would have been more of a Bad Path rather than just an end, a few audios where shit just gets real wild.

I don't remember a ton of specifics now, but long story short after meeting (not the same as episode 1 of BS) Seth would be a lingering menace stirring shit and taunting Al/Boo before ultimately kidnapping Boo and luring Alphonse to a remote location, something similar to a trainyard or warehouse, like the settings seen in BS3. The climax involved a gun, and an ambiguous ending where we're not sure who got got in the end.

Then, after I sat with it for a while and started hammering out what I wanted his introduction to look like, Seth was not becoming that character. I held on, thinking maybe it'll take shape, and then the "THEY WERE LOVERS!?" bit hit me and it really started to get some movement...and nowhere near the direction of Seth really being a menace.

Also, I find the whole thing so overplayed and cliche in the ASMR roleplay niche that I did not think it would be wise in the long run to introduce even the optional Bad End thing because a lot of people cannot grasp the concept of "this is just a spicy branching alternate story for fun".

And honestly, I don't find it all that fun. A by the numbers kidnapping plot for the folks who enjoy that sort of thing would not have been the level of work I'd go on to do, nor would it have created the long lasting emotional attachment to Seth we have today.

Also, knowing your audience fucking matters. That era of the my audience had people freaking out at the idea that Alphonse might leave Boo. They were not prepared for that kind of content whether it was clearly labeled non-canon or not.

I'm pretty happy with where we ended up, and I am much more equipped to tell a story involving a fucked up asshole causing problems on purpose now than I was all those years ago.

But I hear the folks who want various boys behaving badly, and perhaps one day Seth will have a bad dream about what could have been. 🙏

[charlieisannoying]

A perfect case for my certain skillset

Platonic CF 99 X Jedi!GNReader Summary: Clone Force 99 is getting a Jedi, as if that could ever work out for the band of misfits. The worst thing? They're not even getting a General. First meetings will always go a little sideways, but the Force will right things in the end (Or so Hunter is told.) Word Count: 2,215

Hunter was tired.

He could feel a headache slowly blossoming under his skull, burrowing itself deeper and deeper, setting alight every nerve–

This was not the right moment for this. He had a mission to do.

It was simple, really.

They haven't been on the field that long anyways and they were a special case anyways. Their assignments, although they wrecked absolute havoc on the world around them were successes. They were still tasting the small bits of freedom between each missions, still overwhelmed with the fact that this was their life – the four of them against the world. While their... fondness over the regs was tested each and every time they came in contact with them, Commander Cody was a special case.

Even Crosshair was silent around that man, his snark nowhere to be found.

So when Commander Cody had commed him, letting him know that his pack, his own Clone Force 99, was supposed to get a handler... Well, Hunter was glad he wasn't alone when he received the news. He did not want to be the one to break the news to his brothers.

Still.

Getting a Jedi General was something even he was supposed to get used to.

It's not that he didn't want a superior officer or that he didn't like Jedi (although, truth to be told his experiences with other Jedi that Master Ti were rather... closer to 0 than any other number), but...

... he wanted to keep his brothers safe, close to himself and only himself. He heard through the ever evolving vod grape-vine that the Jedi were kind and understanding and they were all normal beings, not gods. His mind told him he was exaggerating, that it was in his very nature to protect his brothers...

But would his Jedi not only understand, but also listen to Tech's need to always fix something and explain and research? Will they leave Crosshair be and just exist in the presence of his brothers after a particular rough mission? Will they see how smart Wrecker is or will they just see his bulk and write him off.

Well. Clones were nothing if not adaptable.

'You don't have to be nervous about it.'

Cody's eyes were kind when he said it. They also seemed sad, but that couldn't possibly be true. Commanders knew how and when to say things. Commanders gave orders that no other clone could. Commanders swallowed their grief.

'I am not in the position to reveal anything but...' the Commander's nose flared and he bit on the inside of his cheek, as if searching for the right words. '...this assignment of the Jedi to your batch is more for the well being of themselves than a punishment to you boys.'

As if.

Look, Hunter could agree that their plans were wild, reckless and often enough sputtered into nothingness as soon as a mission started. But they accomplished their missions. They always were successful.

But siccing a Jedi on them?

This would never solve their... creative solutions for their already dangerous missions.

'When should we expect to report under our Jedi then, sir?' Tech's voice was crisp and perfectly measured, skilfully hiding how he felt in that moment from everybody. Well, everybody except Hunter. He could hear Tech's heartbeat skip in a pretty concerning way every so often and could start smelling his anxieties over the matter.

At that question, Cody allowed himself once grimace.

'That's your first job. Your Jedi Commander has... left our ship without telling us where they were going and we were called to aid the 501st.' What? Hunter's impending headache must have messed up his hearing, because why would a Jedi just... leave? Cody continued on, bringing Hunter back to the briefing. 'Their comm was last online in one of the lower levels of the city. It would be wise to check first some of the bars without attracting any unwanted attention.'

Lower levels? Bars? It seemed that all of his brothers were having the same reaction because they all had the what in Prime's tits is doing their Jedi in a bar face.

Something must have taken the Commanders attention away from them and their bewildered faces, because he didn't comment on their lack of response. Before he closed, he did wish them good luck, and that must have meant something, right?

By the sound of Tech's tapping on his data pad, Hunter was sure that every tidbit of information over their Jedi would be soon in their hands. He could always count on his brother's

'Wait, what did he mean by Jedi Commander?'

—

His headache was definetly getting worse.

This was the fifth? Or was it the sixth bar they searched? The vibrations of the bass and drums sent painful spikes from his skull down to his finger tips. This was promising some very painful next few days. And if they wouldn't find thei Jedi, his headache will become even worse and then Crosshair will see it, because of course the little shit was just as observant as his eyesight was perfect and–

'I just say we leave this damn Jedi find us instead. We're soldiers, not babysitters.'

Ah, kark it.

This was absolutely perfect. Now he also got Crosshairs snark to add of the things that were annoying him in that moment.

The lights were blinding him.

The music was getting louder and louder and he couldn't think, his brother's arm on his shoulder was like sand paper on his skin, although he had both his blacks and his armour on and why was the music so karking loud–

'You okay there buddy?'

If Hunter was at his peak he would notice that you were holding a fuzzy, colorful drink in your hands, the type that would come with small umbrellas and would wreck anyone in two gulps. Except he couldn't smell the alcohol. At all.

Your clothes seemingly resembled Jedi robes, the teal outer robes mixing with a tan tunic and brown pants. Small dots littered your sleeves, as if they were painstakingly embroidered, slowly combating the simpleness of normal Jedi apparel. Your hair was stuck to your forehead as if you'd been jumping the whole night and your eyes–

Maker, your eyes.

He could say that they were pretty because they were surrounded by blue glitter, and lined with black as if you were trying to capture everyone around you. You didn't break contact with him, as if trying to scan and read and see right through him, a small glint in your eyes indicating nothing but trouble.

But no.

Your eyes were sad. As if you knew something he didn't, as if you've lost and lost and lost, and you couldn't quite believe that you won't lose again. Hunter just wanted to bundle you up and take you far away from the war that just takes from beings.

Where were these thoughts coming from?

There was something else.

All he could focus was that the sounds were...gone. All those terrible sounds that were scratching the inside of his brain did not make him want to keel over and cover his ears.

He could still hear his brother's heartbeats, Tech's tapping, Crosshair grinding his teeth over another toothpick (where was he getting them??) and Wreckers fiddling with bits of an explosive.

Even those accursed lights seemed dimmed.

'You with me, Sarge?' Your brows were furrowed, as if you were trying to read him. And in the end, who even were you, why would you care–

Oh.

You were his Jedi. Were you the reason this place was more bearable now? Could the force even do that?

Wrecker snorted. Wait, why was Wrecker laughing?

That weird glint returned to your face, a small smile pulling over your lips. 'It's a Force Bubble. Helps me with my own migraines, and I though it would help you too.' You continued, the frown making an appearance once again. 'You were projecting your pain quite...hm...strongly across the lower levels. And anyways, what is Clone Force 99 doing here? We were supposed to meet tomorrow.'

Did he say that out loud?

That admittedly subdued headache was going to be the end of him.

'Technically, it is tomorrow.' Tech's voice was a bit harsh, not like his usual calm and calculated cadence. Were his brothers also starting to feel the simmering anger rising? They were out there, trying to find them, and... what? Their Jedi thought that giving Hunter a small respite would fix everything?

Before his thoughts could spiral even further, you had the decency to look... not ashamed, but guilty.

'Ah, my apologies then. I just wanted to...' You mulled over your words, trying to find the perfect one. You seemed to do that a lot, as if being able to choose your own words was something new, something not yet experienced. '...well, just be a Jedi for one more night and not a Commander.' You're eyes crinkled slightly as you smiled, as if laughing at a joke.

Hunter wasn't aware Jedi's sense of humour was so subtle. In fact, he heard quite the opposite from various other Commanders. Returning his attention back to you, you seemed to be already thinking about something else. Your face was already angled towards the back of the bar, where a small raised platform was created. A guitar was nestled against a box pretending to be a stool. A microphone completed the set, as if beaconing courageous drunks to sing something.

It seemed not only Hunter noticed your divided attention.

'Something else you've got to do, Jedi?' Kark Crosshair and his big mouth. Hunter was not in the mood to fight a decommission report to save his dear, dear brother. His headache was threatening to become a migraine once again.

This seemed to catch your attention once again. Shoulders pulled back, the blue robes did not seem to swallow you anymore. A small quirk of your eyebrow betrayed your amusement.

'You've crashed my set, actually. You guys are not exactly low profile.' Set? Did you sing? Is that your drink was all for show? All sadness was gone for a moment from your eyes, a fierce glint taking its place. 'I'm sorry you're tired and cranky... Crosshair, is it? So why don't you get a nice little drink from the bar and enjoy the show, yes?' Paired with a sweet little smile, you took your leave towards the makeshift stage, blue robes trailing like a blaze behind you.

This did not feel like getting a handler anymore.

This was going to get much, much worse.

—

Despite his worse fears, no decommission request landed in Hunter's pile of folders or in his inbox. After the incident at the bar, Crosshair finally fell silent, which meant that Hunter was free to fall into blissful sleep in their barracks. They did not stay to see you perform, much to Wrecker's dismay, but he was sure Tech already sliced through the bars shoddy footage, only to satisfy his curiosity, if nothing else.

You took the closed quarters of the Marauder in stride, your face betraying nothing. Your heartbeat though...? Well, that told Hunter everything he needed.

It seemed that not only Clone Force 99 was anxious about this change.

'Anything I should steer clear off?' You're eyes were still darting around, as if you were taking it all in. Your question though, it warmed Hunter somehow. He knew viewed clones as people, but other nat-borns had other ideas, that were not nicely viewed in the GAR.

'Our lives?'

Even with his back turned around the momentarily least favourite brother, he could feel Crosshairs sneer.

Before even taking a breath to reprimand Crosshair again in less that 24 hours, Wreckers boisterous voice bounced against the ship's walls.

'HA, as if you could beat a Jedi, Cross.' Wrecker's huge form seemed to eclipse you for just a moment, before draping an arm around your shoulders. You seemed to dip a bit, before finding your footing and righting yourself again, without shrugging Wrecker off. This seemed to encourage Wrecker, as he quickly continued, a sharp grin forming on his face.

'Technically, don't touch anything of Crosshair's. Don't mess up my workspace.' Tech's eyes were glued to his data pad, but his finger was pointing to various parts of the ship.

Thank you, Tech and your perfect interruptions.

You're impassive face was slowly breaking apart, your cheeks twitching slightly. Even your heartbeat seemed to slow down, and you even seemed to lean more and more into Wrecker, as if you were leeching his body heat. You risked a glance towards Hunter, but quickly looked away when you noticed him analysing you.

He wondered if you were going to burst from trying to keep in your laugh.

'You can always take Lula!' Reaching towards his bunk, Wrecker dragged you along a bit, without realising that you were still somewhat trapped underneath his arm. He offered you the tooka doll, and Hunter really hoped this was not the moment Wrecker will get heartbroken from your response.

A genuine smile lighted up your face instead.

'Thank you.'

If it weren't for the proximity alarm going off in the cockpit, Hunter was sure of there was more to be said.

For now, they all had one job.

Complete the mission.

[lost-somewhere-east-of-eden]

I commented on someone's fit on insta and got told I wouldn't understand it's a queer thing. Should I tell them?

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Alright, I’ve been sitting on this for a while and I think i’ve managed to sort out my thoughts so it’s not just agonized internal screaming. Time to finally talk about Monkie Kid Season 5.

Quick Disclaimers before we get started: please keep in mind i’m probably gonna be a little negative here. I’m not going after the animators or the writers or anything of the sort, I just need to get this out and slapping it on my blog just makes sense so people have the option to ignore it. Yes, I’m still grateful we still have the show, yes I’m still happy we have the same VA’s, don’t come at me. I’m not gonna get too salty cause I’ve gotten most of that out methinks and too much salt is bad for ya health, but I still do wanna talk about it and I’m still gonna be at least a little salty. If you’re not interested in hearing anything negative about the future of season five please don’t feel obligated to read. And please DO NOT take this as an invitation to bash on the new studio or anyone else in the replies, I really don’t wanna see that, go make your own post if you want to do that. I’m going to keep it under the cut so it’s easy to scroll past.

Welp, if you’re here to read, buckle up and here we go!

To start off, let's get the big personal bias thing out of the way: I strongly dislike puppet animation.

I say ‘strongly dislike’ and not hate because, while I hate most puppet animation, there is Bluey which is the best puppet animation can offer. I didn’t even know it was puppet animation for a while because of how beautifully it’s animated, so, puppet animation does have potential, I’m not gonna deny that. However, I hate that it is always used to replace 2D animation. It’s the cheaper, faster option and I can’t even begin to count the amount of shows that have started off with the plans for being 2D before being ultimately scrapped in favor of either puppet animation or 3D. Monkie Kid was the outlier in all that for me. It was 2D and it felt right. It was gorgeous and good for my brain to look at, it made me excited for animation and for art. It really was so incredibly special to me in a way it just can’t be anymore without Flying Bark’s animation. I probably won’t stop watching but, because of my dislike of puppet animation, it might be a bit of a struggle to get my brain to focus on it the way it used to, (we’ll see.) Absolutely no shade to Wildbrain (the new animation studio) they have worked miracles in the short time that they’ve had, they’ve managed to very closely replicate the style of monkie kid, and they are excellent at what they do, but when things are rushed (LEGO, [derogatory]) it makes it very hard to maintain a high standard, especially when we have something like Flying Bark’s animation to compare it to. And listen, please don’t tell me it looks similar to Flying Bark’s animation, please don’t send me shots and tell me but look how close it is! This one’s gorgeous! Because, at least to me… it’s not.

I’m the kind of person who sits in a room and I see a picture is crooked while no one else in the room notices. It could be off by centimeters but I still notice. It hurts my brain to look at and I go a bit insane until I can get up and straighten it, which usually makes people laugh and honestly yeah it’s kinda funny, but I really can’t stand things looking off, and, despite Wildbrain’s valiant attempt and excellent replication of the style, everything in the trailer we got looks off to me. From the framing, to the animation, to the design of the new characters; from the perspective to the coloring, everything is off and my ‘PLEASE LET ME STRAIGHTEN THE PICTURE’ brain hurts looking at it. I’m not trying to rag on the animation, I know they’re doing their best. Off things just hurt my brain to look at.

That’s why I loved Flying Bark’s animation so much. From Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles to Monkie Kid to Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur, Flying Bark’s animation has scratched that itch in my brain that has desperately wanted things to look right. Everything is just so shaped!!! AAA!!!

Now, there are episodes of monkie kid that I’m not as big of a fan of. Impossible Delivery is one of them. I’m not a fan of how some scenes are drawn in it, so I tend to avoid it a lot. And that was done by Flying Bark so, this new animation for Monkie Kid is really doing a number on me.

…that being said: I still aint’ about that ‘flying bark started out awkward too’

Once again, ABSOLUTELY NO SHADE TO WILDBRAIN, (or anyone who’s said this at any point, I ain’t coming for your kneecaps,) they have done a SPECTACULAR job replicating Flying Bark’s style in the time that they have and I’m sure LEGO has been putting them through the wringer and rushing them through stuff (which I’ll complain about in a minute) but that’s the thing… They replicated Flying Bark’s Style. Style and animation are two completely separate things. This same drama was used by critics to bash the crap out of ROTTMNT when it first came out; they kept saying the animation was ugly, but it wasn’t, the animation was gorgeous, it was the style that they disliked because, most shows right now start off clunky and a little ugly and that’s just how it is. (Also the promotional material for Rise dragged it through the mud. I will always be salty about that.)

The pilot of monkie kid’s style wasn't all the way there, I’m not gonna deny that. The crew at flying bark were still figuring things out how to draw lego, BUT. The perspective, the framing, and the animation were all on point and just as gorgeous as the rest of the series. When I hear the argument that Flying Bark wasn’t great at first either it makes me want to tear my hair out because it WAS great. IT WAS ABSOLUTELY GREAT, FROM THE BEGINNING, THEIR ANIMATION HAS BEEN GORGEOUS IN MONKIE KID SINCE DAY ONE. The style is what was off. With this new animation we have the opposite experience. Instead of an awkward style with a god tier animation, we have a pretty excellent replication of a good style with an animation form I personally am not a very big fan of. It’s jarring. And even though I’m sure wildbrain will indeed get into their own groove, it will likely never be as earth shattering as Flying Bark because Flying Bark is Flying Bark and what they did was possible because of 2D.

Onto yelling at lego here we go: 'Be grateful it wasn’t canceled'

I’ma be real, this one bugs me the most.

The animation industry right now sucks. There’s no denying it. We have incredible artists left and right being messed over by studios and companies, entirely completed series being deleted, artists being ripped off, overworked and underpaid, outsourcing in every way they can, the disrespect of A/I, and 2D animation especially being dragged through the mud, even with groundbreaking 2D+3D movies like Spider-Verse and award winning movies like The Boy and the Heron, proving 2D is far from dead. Shows are being canceled before their second or third seasons, ideas are being recycled, so many people have watched their favorite things end too soon, and I’m one of them. Bro I was into DRAGON BOOSTER as a kid. Do you know that show? Probably not. It was canceled after one season YEARS ago and ended on a cliffhanger that makes me hurt to this day and I was a kid back then. (Incredible show btw you should give it a watch.) This cancellation thing isn’t new. I got on board with Rise only to see it sniped because Nickelodeon is stupid. Legend of Korra got messed over by Nickelodeon too. I have experienced cancellation/rushed endings before and it sucks. And it fills me with rage to see the bar is so low, that we should all just be okay with what happened because ‘at least it wasn’t canceled.’ I’m not mad at the people saying this, I’m just upset that this is what the reality of animation is. Heck I'm allowed to be upset about it.

And, let’s be real for a second here… Monkie Kid is LEGO’s product for China. It’s making them money. Canceling monkie kid would be shooti ng themselves in the foot more than anything else. LEGO is not hurting for money. Ninjago ran for FIFTEEN seasons and is still running today in this soft-reboot with even better animation than before. LEGO has the means. They don’t need to rush animators to finish things or underpay people. Flying Bark is in big demand right now because more and more people are noticing how good their stuff is. I’m willing to bet their schedule is packed, (they’re working on the ATLA movie which I have mixed emotions about but at least the animation’s gonna be BANGER and last I heard a stranger things animated series??) and when you’re in that high of demand you have to raise your prices, that’s just how that works. But even with that, given enough patience, time, and proper pay, I have no doubt they could have done Monkie Kid as well. We know Lego was pushing them way too hard to animate Monkie Kid and that animation is INSANE and not cheap. LEGO can afford that. But they decided it wasn’t worth that.

Okay don’t quote me on that last bit. I really didn’t want to start going off about conspiracy theories but I admit I get really frustrated when I hear the ‘at least it wasn’t canceled’ thing because I know there’s more going on behind the scenes, people just aren’t transparent about it. Studios and companies right now don’t really care about the quality of things, it’s the artists and the writers and the creators that care about the quality. There are other 2D studios out there but LEGO chose to go with puppet animation because it's faster and cheaper. I am always going to be upset about that. Am I grateful Monkie Kid wasn’t canceled? Sure. But at the same time I don’t want to feel grateful for the bare minimum. I’m angry at the state of the animation industry that no one in the higher-ups of these industries seem to respect 2D animators or 2D animation in general, that no one seems to understand how much skill it takes to animate and how worth investing in it is. And seeing people tell others upset by this that they should be grateful they have anything at all just rubs me the wrong way.

And the audacity to change the animation is ridiculous to me because a huge part of the audience for LMK is here because of the animation. It’s not like Ninjago, which started off with low budget 3D and slowly got better and better over time with a few dips here and there. We started off with one of the best 2D animated shows of all time, (in my monkey obsessed opinion,) animated the way it was to draw in an audience, and suddenly for no reason at all and no prior warning we’ve dropped down to what every pilot of every puppet animation children show looks like these days. It feels like a crummy thing to do. Yes, I’m aware we’re lucky we still have a show, yes I’m grateful we still have the same VA’s and the same writers. But this is a big and abrupt change and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t suck.

Okay, onto my biggest concern: how the writing of the show will pair with this new animation.

With all due respect and love to the writers, Monkie Kid is awful when it comes to biased narration in their storytelling. It has relied so so heavily on visual storytelling to fill in the gaps and tell us what’s actually going on while the dialogue is lying to our face. If you’re not looking, it can lead you to woefully misunderstand the characters and what is happening. It’s a style of writing that I’m not a super big fan of, BUT I, for the most part (aside from fandom craziness,) enjoyed it! Because the animation helped it hold up. What made the storytelling work was the nuance and incredible detail in Flying Bark’s animation. You could analyze every expression, every style difference in flashbacks, and it would tell you so much; I am a SUCKER for that kind of stuff--drawing expressions and emotions is something I love so much--and Flying Bark served it to me on a silver platter with a golden spoon and crystal clear mountain water. The scope of what Flying Bark was able to do… I just don’t know if it can be replicated in puppet animation and that scares me a bit storytelling wise. Because I don’t want to be stressed out by Monkie Kid and unreliable narrators have a habit of stressing me out. It’s not to bad as long as it’s resolved later, but Monkie Kid has a habit of blowing over things, especially in regards to the lies told about Wukong and the only thing that tells us something different happened are the visuals, which stresses me out cause it results in INTENSE fandom bashing my favorite monkey and it’s really hard to avoid. (This is why I stepped back so far from interacting with the fandom.) I don’t want something that brought me comfort in my darkest times to be twisted into something I no longer want to see.

Is this the worst possible thing to have happened? No, of course not. It’s definitely not all that awesome either. For me it’s like eating at a gourmet restaurant having their insane mac n cheese every day for years and then suddenly you’re served KD from the dollar store and told you should be grateful because it could be worse, all the while the restaurant keeps its gourmet title. There’s nothing wrong with KD but bro I want my mac n cheese--

The fact that there was no prior warning is what really makes all this feel so sucky. I know this isn’t the end of monkie kid, but the animation is one of the biggest things that made the show unique, it’s what drew so many incredible artists in, it’s what inspired me to create and make friends and keep living. The animation provided nuance to the characters when the writing sometimes fell flat. It gave insights and information that worked well with the face-paced storytelling and brought the incredible voice acting to life. It’s not really going to be the same without it.

There is ofc more than just the animation that made monkie kid great. The voice actors, the SOUNDTRACK, the sound effects are all off the charts insanely high quality but man. It’s not complete without it. There’s a big ol’ gaping hole in the show and in my heart and as much as I love the show, that’s really rough. Because it’s not as though this makes things better. The quality didn’t drop because people wanted it to be easier for animators to animate, Wildbrain I’m sure is having a time meeting LEGO’s crazy deadlines right now, just like Flying Bark did. There was so much reused animation in season 4 because of how hard LEGO was riding animators' tails and pushing them to get things out faster and faster and I was more than alright with the reused animation so the animators could catch a break. But instead of backing off and being respectful of the time it takes to animate, LEGO dropped Flying Bark like a hot potato and immediately went to the cheaper, faster puppet animation. (JUST A THEORY/VENT DON’T QUOTE ME.) It’s not like there aren’t other 2D animation studios out there but they picked the puppet. And that SUCKS. I would have been okay waiting another year for monkie kid easy because Flying Bark is WORTH IT. I understand how long things take and that if I want a high quality product its going to take skill and time. It hurts me to watch animators having it rough because no one else seems to get that.

Alright in conclusion: We’ve only seen a few seconds of the trailer.

It’s hard to judge what the entire show will look like based off of that little. It could be incomplete, Wildbrain could get better, they could find their groove, I ain’t gonna rag on the animation because it’s giving you exactly the quality--maybe even higher--expected of what it is. It’s puppet animation. I dunno what to tell you man. But it’s not about that for me. For me it’s about 2D. It’s about some of the greatest animation I’ve ever seen being replaced when it didn’t need to be and that sucks. Flying Bark gave us the world and we didn’t lose that for any reason other than money and greed and impatience. That is so discouraging and upsetting. It is something else to go from every frame leaving me breathless and staring and in awe over the quality of the animation to Puppet Animation. The change hurts. Honestly, I never thought I would be as devastated as I am. I’ve processed a bit but I think it’s always going to suck because of how important monkie kid has become to me. I miss flying bark so much already. I’m still going to try and watch the show, but we’ll see how my brain does with the puppet animation. Don’t go ragging on the animators, guys, they’re doing their best and I gotta respect em.

I do wish we’d gotten more time to mourn flying bark’s absence. I wish people had gotten a heads up when season 4 had ended so they could have time to adjust and then get ready for the new style, because watching everyone hype themselves up for flying barks’ animation only to be told they're gone by a trailer kiiiinda sucks. But I digress.

I do find it funny it took changing animation studios for us to finally get a trailer and poster on time before the eps drop. So in a way, I appreciate that much of a warning at least. Better than nothing! And we’ve always wanted a trailer out first lol HGLKJSDF

I ain’t even gonna pretend I ain’t spoiled as HECK by flying bark’s animation. Honestly without it, I don’t know if I’d be as attached to the characters as I am. Real talk, I don’t know if I ever would have even watched Monkie Kid without it. I’m gonna miss flying bark with all I have in me and it's going to make rewatching and enjoying the show hard because of all this. I’m going to miss the time when every part of this show was a comfort to my brain and soul. Flying Bark's energy is unmatched, they bring a life to things that I haven’t seen anywhere else and I’m always gonna be grateful for the time I had with them animating Monkie Kid.

This is it. No more more Flying Bark monkie kid. The end. And that’s going to sting for a while. And probably keep stinging throughout the new season because… well… I love monkie kid. So seeing it become something else is going to hurt, especially if you hold it so close to your heart.

These new animators are doing their best and we can’t fault em for that. It ain’t their fault the animation industry is what it is. It’s great we still have the show going when so many other things have gotten canceled but the fact the bar is so low can hurt like heck too.

We’re gonna miss flying bark for a long time. It’s so goofy that something as simple as animation could have burrowed so deep into our hearts but it has and that’s truly wondrous and the magic of storytelling. I love shows. I love movies. I love what monkie kid was, and I hope I can learn to be okay with what it will be now. (Even with my ‘STRAIGHTEN THE PICTURE’ brain screaming at me lol.) Wishing you all the best, don’t make fun of the animation needlessly or go after the animators, be kind to them and to each other. If you wanna be salty don't send it to me just make ur own post thanks ima drop this and then go try some positivity lol. Until next time! I’ll see you in Monkie Kid season 5

Knox out

[dodecademons]

Funny how like 90 percent of people wanting the wilds back hate to acknowledge the fact that it's partly their fault. I want the wilds to be renewed as well, however if I DARE say yall aren't ready for it and a small part of me thinks some viewers are undeserving I'm the bad guy. Right because the vast majority of you didn't openly admit to skipping over the boys parts in the show, smh. If you arent watching the whole episode why would they want to renew it? They want views, they want money. Do I want the wilds back? Of course. Do I think the gretchen clones deserve it? No. Be better.

[icewindandboringhorror]

random life photos from the past few months

[darewolfcreates]

I used each of the colored pencils in the pack I bought back in high school to make a monster :)

[vivalasthedas]

i always get such big 'thinks a modern feminist retelling of the persephone and demeter story is one where demter is an evil bitch' feelings from the show

[scuderiahoney]

Be Brave

Oscar Piastri x reader

Masterlist

Summary: You’re a teacher, and someone’s had the brilliant idea to send your class full of 5 year olds to the McLaren Technology Centre. Chaos ensues. Oscar’s there to help.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: none

a/n: this is not the angst I threatened or the fic from the dialogue poll I did, but a secret third thing: a request I finally got the motivation to finish after seeing cute pics of Oscar with kids. Enjoy!

In hindsight, whoever’s idea it was to bring a classroom of five year olds to the McLaren Technology Centre- an active car factory- has definitely never stepped foot in a classroom full of five years olds. You’re lucky- your students are quite well behaved, and you’ve got plenty of parent chaperones with you. It turns out that about half your class’ families seem to be McLaren fans. Half your students had showed up today in bright orange- papaya, one of them had corrected you. You’re not complaining- it makes them easier to spot.

The field trip has been fun. The kids are thrilled about everything. It’s just. Tiny hands, tiny humans, wandering through an active car factory? You’re on edge the whole time. You’re constantly scanning the class, counting to make sure you haven’t lost any students as the tour guide tries to explain mechanical engineering in words that 5 year olds will understand.

You breathe a mild sigh of relief when they bring you into a large, open conference room. They’re going to have someone come speak to the kids in a few minutes. While you have the chance, and a closed room with enough people to guard the exits, you stand in front of your class and tell them to go wild. Seventeen five year olds begin to run around the room. One 5 year old clings to your hand in the quietest corner of the room.

Sammy. He’s a quiet kid, not one for the chaos. He’s stuck to your side the whole morning, staring at everything with big eyes and jumping at all the loud noises. You relate to him more than you’d like to admit. Somehow, the quiet kid turned into a teacher. It seems almost hard to believe looking back, how painfully shy you were.

Sammy tugs on your hand and points at a large mural on one of the walls. “Who’s that?” He asks.

The room you’re in has the two current drivers plastered on the walls, larger than life. You look where he’s pointing and smile.

“That’s Oscar Piastri,” you say, extending the syllables for him.

“Os-car Pi-as-tri,” he sounds out. “That’s my dad’s favorite driver.”

You smile. “Wanna know a secret?” He nods, and so you whisper loudly. “He’s my favorite too.”

Sammy giggles. “Oscar Piastri.”

“He says it better than most of the broadcasters, I think,” says someone behind you.

You turn and come face to face with none other than Oscar Piastri. You hope your shock isn’t too obvious, and you try to control your wide eyes. They’d said someone from the team was going to come talk to your kids- you hadn’t expected it to be one of the drivers. You smile politely as you feel Sammy step behind your legs.

“Hi. Sorry about the…” you wave your hand in the general direction of the children running around behind you. “If they didn’t get some excercise they were never going to make it through the rest of the day.”

“No worries,” Oscar says, smiling brightly. He looks at Sammy where he’s hiding behind you. “Not this guy, though?”

“No, Sammy here is very well behaved and polite,” you say proudly, before whispering, “and quite shy.”

Oscar nods in understanding. His face has gone soft. You weren’t lying when you said he was your favorite, and it only increases with the way he looks at the five year old so fondly. You think maybe Oscar understands Sammy all too well. You turn over your shoulder to look at the little boy.

“Sammy, should we practice being big and brave and introducing ourselves?” You ask. He frowns slightly but nods anyways. “We’ll do it together, okay?”

He nods again and steps out from behind your legs. You stand up straight, and he follows suit. Then you stick your hand out to shake Oscar’s as you introduce yourself.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” he says, repeating your name back to you. “I’m Oscar.”

Sammy takes a tentative step forward and sticks his tiny hand out. You drop back just a bit and pull your phone from your pocket, giving Oscar a questioning glance and making a camera sort of motion with your hands. He nods eagerly before he crouches down to Sammy’s level.

“My name is Samuel,” he says, as he shakes Oscar’s hand. “But you can call me Sammy.”

You hide an endeared laugh behind your hand and snap a picture of the two of them. You know his parents will be thrilled.

“Hi, Sammy,” Oscar says sweetly. “My name is Oscar. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“You’re my dad’s favorite driver,” Sammy says. “And my teacher’s favorite driver. So I think you’re my favorite, too. Os-car Pi-as-tri.”

You stare down at him with wide eyes, suddenly feeling betrayed by your favorite student. Your face grows warm, but Oscar just laughs lightly and smiles up at you.

“Is that so?” He says, turning back to Sammy. “I’m honored.”

He stands back up, and Sammy goes back to clinging to your side. There’s a bright smile on Oscar’s face. You know yours matches it.

“So, are you our guest speaker?” You ask, trying to will your face to cool down.

He nods eagerly, eyes darting around the room, watching kids run everywhere. One of them bumps into the back of your legs and squeaks out a quick apology before running away again. He laughs lightly, hiding it behind his hand.

“Hopefully Lando and I can keep them entertained,” he says.

“Oh, they’ll be fine, they’ll sit quietly when I ask them to,” you say.

He gives you an uncertain look, a soft smirk on his lips. You laugh, hoping it’s not painfully obvious how taken you are with him. He’s been your favorite driver because of his level head and dry humor, but standing in front of him you can’t help but notice how cute he is. Before he can say anything in response and challenge your ability to control your class, Lando comes stumbling into the room.

“Okay, now this is my kinda school trip,” he says, an impressed grin on his lips. He elbows Oscar. “This was me as a kid.”

Oscar gestures towards Sammy, still tucked against your leg. “This was me, I think.”

Lando laughs and nods. He tilts his head at you, and you stick your hand out once again and introduce yourself. Sammy follows suit. Lando bends to shake the five year olds hand, giving both you and him an impressed smile.

“Sammy’s working on being big and brave and introducing himself,” Oscar says.

“Well he’s doing a great job,” Lando says with an approving nod.

“He’s got a great teacher,” Oscar says, grinning at you.

With that, your face grows hot again. You clear your throat and turn over your shoulder to look at the class. They’re beginning to slow just slightly. Perfect timing.

You clap your hands, and each of them skids to a stop, turning to look at you. “Okay, friends! Come sit up here, we have some very special guest speakers.”

The children all make their way to the front of the room, sitting down on the carpet in a semicircle. Even Sammy wanders away, taking a seat near the back. You turn back to Oscar and Lando, who both have impressed looks on their faces.

“I think we need you to run our meetings,” Oscar says, brows raised.

“Oh, if you give them permission to go crazy consistently when they need it, they’ll listen when you tell them it’s time to be calm,” you say with a shrug. “My mum was a teacher, too, she taught me that.”

“Yeah, if Zak let me be a menace before meetings I’d have a lot easier time sitting through them,” Lando agrees. “Alright, you little muppets!”

He steps in front of the class. Oscar gives you an exasperated smile, like you’re both sharing a moment of understanding. Maybe Lando’s still a 5 year old at heart. You laugh and step back with the chaperones to watch them speak as Oscar follows Lando’s lead. It’s fun to watch. You realize they couldn’t have picked better speakers.

Some of the kids recognize the drivers, but even the ones who don’t are enamored once they find out that these guys drive race cars for a living. You snap lots of pictures of your students staring up at them with wide grins. Lando continues to call them muppets, earning laughs each time. Oscar gets down on their level and uses a little model of the car to explain the aerodynamics. They give a horrible demonstration of slipstream, with Lando pretending to drive and Oscar pretending to be the air. Then, at the end, they open it up for questions. Eighteen tiny hands fly up into the air.

“Do you speed when you drive a normal car?” One of them asks.

“Never,” Lando lies.

“D’you ever fight with other drivers?” Another student asks.

“We try to leave what happens in the race on the track,” Oscar answers. “We’re all quite nice to each other outside of the races, actually.”

Lando shrugs and shakes his hand from side to side. A few of the kids catch on and laugh.

Sammy is sitting in the back of the group, his hand raised. He’s not waving it around, not bouncing up and down. But you watch Oscar scan the group, see him spot the tiny hand anyways.

“Sammy,” he calls out. “What’s your question?”

Sammy looks shocked to have been called on, but he clears his throat and speaks up. “What’s your favorite color?”

The grin that breaks across Oscar’s face is endearing. Lando smiles, too, presses his hand to his chest. You wait for the canned answer- papaya, you think.

“Mine’s bright green,” Lando says.

Oscar nods. “Mine is blue. What’s yours?”

“Mine is blue too,” Sammy answers.

“Good taste.” Oscar says. He exchanges a grin with you. You smile proudly at Sammy, so happy to see him step out of his shell just a bit.

The next student who gets called on says, “my mum told me to ask if you’re single,” and you clap your hands and walk towards the front.

“Okay, friends, I think Oscar and Lando have given us enough of their time,” you say. “Can we all say a big thank you?”

A chorus of little voices calls out varying forms of thank you. One of them screams it, and Lando winces. Oscar’s cheeks are pink, probably from the student asking about his relationship status. Is it bad that you almost wanted him to answer? You’re being ridiculous, you know. But his flushed face is cute, and you can’t help but smile at him.

You shake their hands one more time before they leave. “Thanks again. You’ve really just made their days.”

“We were happy to,” Oscar says.

“Yeah, you’ve got a good group of kids,” Lando agrees.

“And they’ve got a good teacher,” Oscar repeats his earlier comment.

You laugh, feeling your face grow hot. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

Oscar goes to say something else, but someone leans in through the door and calls out to him and Lando. He smiles sheepishly as Lando urges him towards the exit, tugging on his shirt.

“It was nice meeting you!” Oscar calls out before he disappears through the doors.

You turn back to your class and refocus. It’s time to move on to lunch, which is always the worst part of any field trip. Someone comes by to bring your group to the cafeteria. Your field trip worst nightmare- a large, open room full of people. You make sure all the chaperones are set with their groups and head off.

It goes fine. At first. You get the kids settled at tables and do a quick head count. Everyone’s there. They provide lunch for the kids, so you help to hand them out to everyone. Eighteen five year olds sit quietly, eat sandwiches and drink juice. You breath a little sigh of relief.

Then the kids all decide they need to go to the bathroom. You split them up, send them with chaperones in groups. You stay back at the tables with the ones who say they don’t need to go, knowing full well that in ten minutes they’ll be whining for the restroom. You clean up spilled apple juice and eat half your lunch. The bathroom groups come back one by one. Seventeen five year olds sit down at the tables.

And no, that can’t be right. You count again. Seventeen. One more time- seventeen. There’s an empty seat. You turn to the nearest chaperone, who also has a panicked look on his face.

“Sammy,” he says, eyes wide. “He was in my bathroom group, I swore he came back with us-“

You can’t panic. You turn to the nearest McLaren employee and tell them the situation. The look on her face tells you she’s going to panic, so you take control of the situation. You ask her to get everyone on the lookout for him, to page him over the speakers. Then you turn to your class.

“Friends,” you say, loudly. “Has anyone seen Sammy?”

Casey, one of the louder boys, raises his hand. “He stopped to tie his shoes when we were coming back.”

You could strangle the parent for not noticing, for not keeping an eye on the kids, but you don’t have time for that. At the very least, you have a starting point. You delegate a couple chaperones to stay with the kids in the cafeteria, and enlist a couple others to help you look. Panic is itching at the back of your brain, but you keep it tamped down. You’ll find him, and then you’ll freak out about it.

You split up, wandering the halls and asking everyone if they’ve seen a shy five year old with dark hair. They all tell you no, but that they’ll keep their eyes peeled. You check around corners, behind doors, in conference rooms and offices. You think you accidentally interrupt what was likely a very important meeting, though when you explain you’re looking for a missing child the men in suits all seem to understand.

The longer it goes on, the more sick to your stomach you feel. It’s Sammy. He got separated from his group and probably panicked just like you want to do now. He could be anywhere. He’s tiny, he could be hiding somewhere you’d never even think to look. His parents are going to kill you-

Oscar calls your name. It’s probably odd that you already recognize his voice, but you don’t have time to worry about that. You turn to look at him, and relief washes over you. He’s standing at the end of the hallway, his hand holding onto Sammy’s. You want to march down the hallway to them, but instead you collapse against one of the walls and press your hand to your mouth. Oscar pulls him towards you.

“I found him wandering in the hallway upstairs,” Oscar says. “He said he got lost.”

You nod, crouching down to Sammy’s level. He hides behind Oscar’s legs slightly.

“You’re not in trouble,” you say. “It’s okay. You found a helper, right? We always say that, look for the helpers. It’s okay! But next time you stop to tie your shoe-“ Oscar muffles a laugh behind his hand at that. “-you tell a grown up, okay?”

Sammy nods solemnly. You stand back up.

“Thank you,” you say to Oscar. “I owe you one, big time.”

“No worries,” he says, shrugging. “Knew you must be freaking out, so.”

You reach for Sammy’s hand and head for the cafeteria. To your surprise, Oscar follows. You’re not complaining.

“I’ve only been teaching for a year,” you explain, though you doubt he cares. The nervous energy needs to go somewhere, you suppose. “And I still feel brand new, you know? And school trips- don’t even get me started.”

Oscar laughs. “But field trips were the best part of school.”

“I lost a five year old in a car factory,” you say dryly. “Field trips are much less fun as a teacher.”

Oscar nods in understanding, trying and failing to hide his laughter. You come into view of the cafeteria and start counting heads. There are seventeen other 5 year olds still sitting at the tables. Sammy joins them, and you breathe a sigh of relief. Oscar does too. You pull out your phone and call the other chaperoned who went off to look, and tell them to head back to the cafeteria. With any luck, you might still be able to finish the tour.

“He’s a good kid,” Oscar says fondly, and you smile.

“He’s my favorite,” you admit. “I was a shy kid, too.”

Oscar leaves soon after that with a soft smile and an even softer goodbye. You wish he was the one leading the tour, but you know that would never happen. You’re lucky enough to have had the chance to meet him. He’s the same age as you, and he’s a world famous racecar driver. He’s probably already forgotten your name.

The rest of the tour is uneventful. None of your students wander off, and all of them are well behaved. They spot photos of Oscar and Lando in the halls and point excitedly at them, calling out their names. Finally, you’re brought out onto the lawn near the lake, and you give the kids a few minutes to play in the grass. You have the strong urge to lay down on the lawn and let them run until they all pass out. They have boundless energy, but you’re exhausted.

Someone nudges your arm lightly. You turn, expecting it to be a kid or a chaperone, but you come face to face with Oscar again.

“Oh god, did I lose another one?” You ask frantically.

He laughs. “No, no! Just came by to say goodbye.”

“Oh,” you say in understanding. “Thanks again, you know, for finding Sammy and for talking to the kids. I don’t think they’re gonna stop talking about this for ages.”

Oscar’s cheeks are flushed. “I’m glad they had a good time.”

You nod. “I did too, even with all the chaos. You have a really cool job, you know?”

He shrugs. “Not as important as yours. Tiny minds, shaping the future, you know.”

You let out a puff of air. “Sometimes it feels like I’m just struggling to keep the tiny humans alive, let alone teach them anything.”

He’s staring at you with this warm look on his face. You like his smile. There’s something comforting about it.

“Nah, I see the way they look at you. And Sammy introduced himself, you taught him that,” Oscar says. “That’s way more important than shapes or letters.”

Your face grows even hotter. “Thanks, Oscar.”

You see the bus pulling up the road out of the corner of your eye. About time to round the kids up. You turn towards your class, who are running around on the grass.

“Well, I’ve got to get them rounded up to go back, so unless you want to get mobbed by tiny humans you might want to make a run for it,” you say. “They’re distracted now, but they’ve been talking about you all afternoon.”

Oscar laughs brightly. “Yeah. I’ll head out. Um- d’you maybe-“ he pauses, and when you turn to him he shakes his head. “Sorry. Maybe I need to go back to school. Just. Have a good rest of your day. It was lovely meeting you.”

“You too,” you say warmly. “Thanks again.”

He disappears and you watch him go. You wonder what he was going to say- it sounded an awful lot like a question. But he’s gone now, and you’ll probably never see him again, so you try and let it go. By the time you get your class back to the school, it’s almost time for pickup. They’re all half asleep at their desks, absolutely worn out. Parents come by one by one to pick them up, and when Sammy’s dad shows up, you pull him aside and explain everything, the worst feeling in your stomach.

He laughs and shakes his head. “He does that to us all the time. We’ll be on a walk and he just- stops. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Sammy wanders over as you’re still processing the fact that his dad isn’t mad. “Guess who I met?” He says, staring up at his dad with a wide grin.

“Who?” His dad asks.

“Os-car Pi-as-tri,” Sammy says.

“That’s actually true,” you chime in. “I have the pictures to prove it.”

His dad looks at you with wide eyes. “If you’d have led with that, I wouldn’t have even heard you when you said he got lost.”

Despite what Sammy’s dad said, you toss and turn all night. Thankfully, it’s a Friday, so you don’t have to teach the next day. Every time you close your eyes you think of seventeen tiny heads, and one missing, and you feel sick to your stomach again. When you finally do fall asleep, you dream of children disappearing and warm brown eyes paired with an Australian accent. You spend the weekend trying to get your mind off of all of it.

On Monday, Sammy’s mother brings him into the classroom earlier than normal. You’re still turning on the lights and straightening things when they come in. He’s holding a little bouquet of flowers, and your heart melts.

“Sammy wanted to apologize for getting lost,” his mother says. “We know you must’ve been very worried.”

You let out a breath. “Thank you, Sammy.”

He nods, and you take the flowers from him. Then he scurries away to the play area.

“It’s okay,” his mother says. “Peter said you were really beating yourself up over it.”

You shrug. “It’s my worst fear, you know? I hate school trips.”

She laughs. “You know, he really likes you. We were worried, with how quiet he is, that he’d hate school. But you make it fun for him. So thank you.”

You smile, unsure of what to say in response other than, “thank you.”

You turn to your desk to find a vase or a cup for the bouquet, and that’s when you see the other flowers. A mix of white peonies and white roses and greenery, with little orange flowers stuck between all of them. You stop in your tracks. Behind you, Sammy’s mother laughs.

“Got a secret admirer?”

You shake your head uncertainly. You’re not sure how anyone even got flowers into your classroom this early on a Monday. But there they are, sitting proud and pretty. There’s a note tucked into the stems with your name on it, and so you pull the little envelope out and open it.

Hi,

I hope you had a lovely time at the MTC. I really enjoyed meeting you. I’d love to take you out for dinner sometime. Hope this isn’t too forward,

Oscar

His number is written below. You let out a squeak. You can tell she wants to look over your shoulder or ask who it’s from, but she bites her tongue. Sammy’s your favorite student, and his parents are up there, too. But this feels like too much to share with a parent, so you shove the note in your pocket.

“Just a friend,” you lie.

“How sweet,” she says, nodding. “Well, I’d better be off. I’ll take Sammy out to the playground. We just wanted to stop in and chat.”

“Thank you,” you say, turning to her with a smile. “And sorry. Again.”

She gives you an amused smile. “It’s okay.”

You carry the note around in your pocket with you the whole day, unsure of what to do about it. Of course, all your students notice the flowers, and they tell all their friends at lunch, who then tell all their teachers. Suddenly everyone seems to need to borrow something from you, sticking their heads into your classroom and just then noticing the flowers. How pretty! Beautiful! Who are they from? You tell them all the same thing. A friend. It’s only when your favorite coworker, Maggie, comes into your classroom later that you finally tell someone.

The kids have all gone home for the day, and you’re cleaning up the last bits of paper from your class activity. She walks in and beelines for the bouquet on the desk.

“Okay, I have a theory,” she says.

“And what’s that?” You ask.

“Orange flowers,” she says. “Someone from your trip on Friday.”

“Papaya,” you correct softly.

“Huh?”

“They call it papaya, not orange,” you say. She gives you a look, one brow raised. “I know. I…”

You dig the envelope out of your pocket and throw it to her. She opens it and gasps, sinking down in your desk chair. She must reread it five times, letting out giddy noises.

“So when are you getting dinner?” She asks.

“I haven’t texted him yet,” you admit.

She stares at you with wide eyes. “He’s your favorite driver and he gave you his number and you didn’t text him?”

“That’s the thing though, Mags,” you say with a sigh. You lean against one of the desks. “He’s an F1 driver. I’m… me.”

“Yeah, and he liked you enough to send flowers to your classroom.”

“It’s not that, it’s…” you shrug. “Those guys date supermodels and actresses and pro athletes. I’m… a teacher.”

“Babe, if you don’t text him you’ll regret it,” she says. “Big time. Just give him a shot.”

You take your flowers home with you, placing them carefully in the passenger seat of your car. You set them on your kitchen counter. They oddly feel like they belong there, like that’s what the room has been missing, though you didn’t know it before. And as you sit there and eat dinner, you take out your phone and type in a new number.

…..

It takes a while for your schedules to line up, but when they finally do, you find that Oscar’s a fun person to go on a date with. Fun might be an understatement, actually. You’ve never had a better time on a date.

You’ve been texting since the day he sent you the flowers, back and forth trying to coordinate a date at first. And then it turned into little funny texts, photos of things throughout your days that made you both smile. You update him on your class, he tells you what chaos Lando’s been causing. He sends memes, and you send him ones back. By the time you actually see him in person again, it’s like you already know him.

You’d been worried that a date with someone like him was going to be a fancy restaurant that you would feel out of place at. But he suggests a little hole in the wall pub that he says is his favorite, and you eagerly agree. You meet him there in a casual outfit, jeans and a cute sweater. He’s dressed in jeans and a sweater too, his hair adorably messy. He has that same warm smile on his face.

The two of you sit and order, and any awkwardness you’d expected just isn’t there. It’s like you’re two old friends, already comfortable with each other. He jokes with you, and you match his dry humor step for step. He’s the only person you’ve ever been on a date with who doesn’t seem to bore of your stories about 5 year olds. His knee knocks against yours under the table, and you don’t pull away. You find yourself leaning closer, actually. You’re longing to reach across the table, to feel his skin against yours.

You look around later and realize it’s been quite a while since the two of you sat down. The restaurant is starting to empty out. Oscar seems to notice the same, and reluctantly asks for the bill, refusing when you try to pay for your own. You both stand up from the table and head for the door. You stop just outside, breathing in the cool night air.

He nods towards a nearby park. “Wanna take a walk?”

You definitely aren’t ready to say goodbye, so you agree. He sees you shiver slightly, and within seconds he drapes his jacket over your shoulders. It’s warm, like him, and it smells like him too. You smile bashfully up at him as you shove your arms through the sleeves. When your hand pops out, he wastes no time in linking your fingers together. You bite back a gasp.

His hand is warm against yours. It sends a shiver up your spine. You hold on tight to him and hope your palm isn’t sweaty.

He turns to look at you. “I had a really good time tonight.”

You smile. “Me too.”

“I was thinking, wondering I guess,” he says, “If you’d maybe want to do this again?”

You slow to a stop under a streetlight. He follows suit. You press your eyes shut.

“Oscar, I… I had a really good time. And I really like you,” you tell him. “But you’re world famous and I’m just me. I just don’t know…”

He squeezes your hand. “We can take it slow.”

You sigh and open your eyes to look at him. The fluorescent light shines off his fluffy hair and his cheekbones. He has a hopeful look in his eye that you’d hate to rid him of.

“You make me feel grounded,” he says. Your heart twists in your chest. “You have since that day at the MTC. You’ve just got this calming presence. And I think you’re funny, and pretty, and- yeah.”

“You think I’m pretty?” You tease.

He blushes. “Shut up.”

It’s scary, really, to think about. You want to try but he’s a bit intimidating, no matter how well you get along. And the attention that will come from dating him is even scarier. But you think of Sammy, hiding behind your legs, and how you’re trying to teach your students to be big and brave, and how you should try that, too.

You laugh and squeeze his hand. “I think you’re pretty too,” you admit, just to watch his cheeks grow redder. A sheepish smile crosses his lips, and he rolls his eyes playfully. “And kind, and funny. So yeah. We should do this again.”

“Cool,” Oscar says.

“Cool,” you agree.

Then he kisses you under the streetlamp, his hand still linked with yours. And yeah, you could get used to this.

…..

Two months later, when Sammy comes into class, he points an excited finger at you.

“I saw you on TV!” He squeaks.

You laugh. “Did you?”

He nods assertively. “My mum said I was probably wrong, but I know it was you. You were holding hands with Os-car Pi-as-tri.”

You laugh and put a finger to your lips. He takes the hint, but he laughs the whole way to his seat. You think it might be time to talk to Oscar about going public with your relationship. After all, if the five year olds are catching on, the adults will be soon, too.

When your students find out, they beg you to take them to a race. You think back to the McLaren field trip and decide you’re never, ever taking eighteen 5 year olds anywhere near a race track. That would be bad for everyone’s health. But when Sammy shows up as a grid kid at the next British Grand Prix, that’s all on Oscar. It’s definitely not because he’s your favorite student.

Okay, maybe it is.

a/n: my lovely 🐈❤️‍🩹 anon sent me a photo of Oscar with a grid kid & said: Oscar and Sammy. Please look at this photo I screamed over it. can imagine teacher!reader standing off to the side trying not to cry over how cute Oscar is tbh. anyways thanks for reading!!

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan

[lovebugism]

hi!! could you write shy!reader where Eddie bumps into the new kid at school and she gets hurt? I’m a sucker when it comes to Eddie doting on people 🙈

i tried to be so normal about this request but then proceeded to write 2k words for it so... hope you like it lol :D — the hawkins high freak takes the new girl under his wing after they run into each other. literally. (shy!r, meet ugly-ish, hurt/comfort, 2.2k)

You clutch a paper schedule in a pair of anxious hands, squinting to see through the scribbles there. Three boys in bright green lettermans made a total mess of it — writing directions in chicken scratch and doodling a sloppy map of the school over your classes. They said they were helping you, but really they’ve just turned you all around.

Fallen leaves crunchbeneath your feet as you walk past the vacant football field. West of the bleachers and down the dirt trail, the stranger with a harsh jawline and quaffed blonde hair told you. His directions lead you directly to a half-decrepit building in the thick of the woods. A strange spot for a biology lab.

You’re trying to make sense of the scrawled notes on your syllabus — eyes narrowed, and chin tilted downward — when you run into something tall and firm. You don’t hit the warm body hard enough to fall, but stumble back in fear enough to slip on the dewy grass. Like a cartoon character and a banana peel, you land comically on your ass.

“Shit. Sorry,” the towering stranger grimaces. “Didn’t see you there.”

Your wrists start to sting, burdened with the weight of catching your fall. “It’s okay…” you tell him anyway. ‘Cause everything’s always okay. Even when it isn’t. 

A ringed hand enters your vision then — lanky, pale, and tattooed. “Here. Let me help you up.”

“It’s okay,” you dismiss with a shake of your head. “I got it.”

Your jaw clenches tight as you rise on your feet. The slippery mud threatens to pull you down again. Your wrists throb with a dull and distant ache. You stand, despite all that, before the stranger you’d stumbled into the back of. 

Eddie watches you wipe your dirt-covered palms together with a lopsided smile tugging at his mouth. He doesn’t have a clue who you are, but he’s getting a few ideas now. You’re a strong, stubborn, and shy little thing. Pretty, too. 

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he cautions with his palms spread awkwardly in front of him. He wants to make sure you’re alright, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Strong, stubborn, shy, and definitely skittish, he thinks to himself.

You shake your head again, finally glancing at the boy looming before you. His curls are dark and untamed, billowing in the early spring breeze. His deep chocolate eyes match the color of the frizzy strands — both equally as wild as the smile he looks at you with.

Your breath catches suddenly in your throat. You hadn’t expected to bump into him, of course, but you expected even less for him to be so pretty.

“I’m—”

“Don’t say okay,” he interjects before you can start. His plush lips quirk in a genuine smile a second later, to show he’s only joking.

You swallow hard, still hopelessly trying to rid the mud from your aching palms. “I’m… I’m— I’m fine.”

The boy scoffs a faint laugh. “Here. Let me see.”

He takes your wrists in his hands before you can protest. His fingers are long, gentle, and strangely warm as he brushes the mud off your scrapped skin — hardly flinching when it dirties his own. 

He wipes his palms on his jeans after, never minding how it stains the denim. Then he reaches a leather-clad arm behind you and plucks a leaf gently from your hair. He flicks it to the ground again.

“There,” he grins. “Good as new.”

“Thanks…” you sigh, voice wavering from a reason you can’t name.

“Why haven’t I seen you around before?”

“‘Cause I’m… I’m new.”

“Explains why you’re all the way out here,” he jokes. Most people only come around this side of the football field to buy weed off him, and you don’t exactly seem like the type. His chocolate eyes narrow. “You lost?”

You shift on your feet, feeling suddenly very silly about the whole thing. You’ve got to be a special kind of stupid to take advice from a bunch of jocks and hardly bat an eye when they lead you in the exact opposite direction. You’re too trusting for your own good. It’s embarrassing.

“I was, uh— I was just trying to follow this map, but…” you wave the paper in your clammy hand. “I think it just made me more lost.”

Eddie reaches out a ringed hand and takes the schedule from you when you hand it over. His face scrunches softly together as he squints at the sloppy scribbles. You can’t tell if he’s confused or if he needs glasses. Maybe both.

He can hardly make sense of the directions. And the map was designed in a very obvious attempt to confuse you — the sweet, shy girl who’s never stepped foot here before. Something redhot simmers in his chest ‘cause he can’t imagine doing this to someone. Finding someone who obviously needs help and doing them over for a couple measly laughs.

It’s got Jason Carver and the Dick Brigade written all over it. Literally.

“Who gave this to you?” he asks anyway, just to be sure.

You blink up at him with a pair of doe eyes, gaze glimmering with innocence. “Um… A couple of basketball players, I think. They were wearing lettermans, so…”

“Fucking Carver,” the boy grumbles under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing…” he sighs. “Here. C’mon. Let’s go.” 

“Where— Where are we…” you mutter in a mousy voice, trailing off when he stomps past you. You get a faint whiff of floral shampoo and woodsy cologne as he goes. Less inclined to stay alone in the unfamiliar forest, you decide to follow behind him. “O-Okay…”

You fight to keep up with his considerably longer strides as the stranger leads you back towards the school. His dark eyes flit over your schedule, squinting to see past the messy lettering covering the typeface. 

“No point in making it to your third period,” he announces suddenly, swinging the heavy metal door open with a ringed hand. The rusted hinges squeak in protest when he holds it open for you with his foot. You slide in past him. He walks on ahead of you again, letting the thing slam shut behind him.

“Why?” you ask the back of him, voice wavering.

“‘Cause you’re already fifteen minutes late. And take it from me— Mr. Kaminsky hates when people are late,” Eddie tells you, flashing you a stern look over his shoulder. “Trust me. I learned that the hard way.”

Your brows pinch as your face swirls with a distant panic. You couldn’t conceal your worry if you tried. The gravity of it all hits you, then — the fact that you’re following a stranger you ran into (in the most literal sense of the phrase), who’d previously been half-hidden away in the forest behind the school.

It’s all a bit odd when you think about it. This. Him. You. 

But this strange boy, dripping in silver and all black, is the very first person to show you an ounce of kindness all day. You don’t know why you’re following him so blindly — only that you don’t mind it as much as you should.

“Okay. So. Uh… Where are we— Where are we going, then?” you squeak behind him.

“Right here,” he answers, stopping short in the middle of the hallway. 

Still a few paces back, you don’t hopelessly bump into the back of him like you did before. You watch with wide and curious eyes as he wraps a pale hand around a rusted door knob. The heavy wooden entrance squeals when he opens it.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” the boy jokes with a crooked grin. Everything about the pink expression glitters with mischief. He flicks on the light switch, letting the flourescent lights buzz on in protest. “Well, not abode— I don’t live here, but… You get it.”

The room smells overwhelmingly teenage boy. A mixture of cologne, sweet soda, and sweat. Most of the chairs have been stacked on top of each other and pushed to the edge of the room to make space for the long wooden table in the center. Binders, notebooks, and miscellaneous figurines sit scattered on a gameboard.

“Is that D&D?” you wonder quietly.

Eddie lights up at the question. “You play?” he asks as he saunters to the desk shoved in the very back corner of the room.

His excitement makes you regret your answer. 

“No…” you waver, then quickly follow. “But I’ve— I’ve heard about it.”

“I’m president of the Hellfire club,” he tells you, nodding to the poster on the wall. The demon in the center of it isn’t nearly as intimidating when you can tell it’s handmade. “You should join.”

The boy eyes you expectantly as he rounds the metal desk. You shift your weight on your feet and wring your clammy hands together. He tilts his chin to his chest and peers at you from underneath his lashes. “Think about it?” he presses.

You nod once. “Sure.”

He ducks down then, out of view behind the bulky desk. You stand awkwardly in place while the boy rummages through the drawers. “Ah, here we go…” you hear him murmur after a few moments — followed by a dull thud when he bangs his head. “Shit!” he swears under his breath before rising to his feet again.

You hide your smile behind your scrapped palm as he walks back over to you. His cheeks glow faintly pink as he rubs the crown of his head with his hand — the one not clutching a first-aid kit. “Here. Shit down. Let me look at your hands,” he urges, still worried about you despite his throbbing skull.

You shake your head rapidly in response. You’re not used to being doted on like this — or at all, really — but especially not from a metalhead, wild-haired, pretty-faced stranger. “No. I’m— I’m okay.”

His chocolate eyes go wide and softly stern. They glimmer playfully down at you as his brows raise behind his fluffy bangs. “What we’d just talk about?” he teases.

You swallow down the rest of your protests. “Right…”

You sit in the chair adjacent to the one at the head of the table. The cheap plastic is a stark contrast to the heavy wooden throne the stranger descends upon — with a sort of ease that tells you he sits there often.

He digs into the opened first-aid kit and pulls out a bandaid for you. He fumbles with the packaging for a moment before ripping it open with his teeth. 

“It’s okay not to be okay, you know?” he tells you, mostly muffled until he spits out the paper in his mouth. It lands on the floor at his feet, but he doesn’t seem inclined to pick it up. “Tell me I’m a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going. I know that’s what you’re thinking.”

Your face screws in offense. “I wasn’t—”

“I’m teasing,” he interjects softly, peering at you with a pair of button eyes. “Even though I am a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going.” He takes your palm between his warm and gently calloused ones. He smooths the large bandage over the raging scrape below your thumb with an impossibly delicate touch. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. Again.”

“It was my fault,” you murmur, gaze averted to the boy’s kind hands — at the six tiny bats tattoed in the junction of his thumb and forefinger. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s just a scrape, anyway, I can handle it.”

“Agree to disagree,” the boy says with a lopsided smile, brushing his thumb over the bandage to smooth it out. He gives your fingers a small squeeze before he parts from you. “There you good. Good as new.”

Your hands buzz with the longing to feel him again. You bring both of them to your lap, wrenching your fingers into a knot and hoping your face doesn’t look as hot as it feels. “Thank you…” you murmur, trailing off when you realize you don’t know the kind stranger’s name.

“Eddie,” he finishes for you.

“…Eddie.”

“You can stay in here with me if you want,” he offers with a nonchalant shrug — trying to be cool despite his thundering heart. “Third period’ll be over in, like, twenty minutes. I can walk you to your next class— you know, make sure all the freaks leave you alone.”

You purse your lips to the side of your mouth in attempts to hide the beam tugging there. It only halfway works. “That’d be great,” you tell him in a mousy voice. “Thank you…”

Eddie swallows hard and leans forward again. You can smell the nicotine on his breath and the musky cologne on his neck. His face hardens into a gently solemn look. 

“And don’t… Don’t hang around Jason Carver and his goons anymore, okay?” he tells you, sounding like he’s half-pleading. “Those assholes that fucked with your schedule? They’re bad news.”

Feeling like he must know this better than anyone else, you nod firmly in response. “Okay,” you answer, though it comes out in a whisper when the word gets caught in your throat. Something about having Eddie to you is making your body go all funny. It’s weird.

“Stick with me, okay?” the boy smiles, pink and pretty and petaled, as he slouches back onto his throne again. “I’ll take care of you.”

[bunnys-kisses]

vegetable patch (3)

farmer!captain john price & (brief) hybrid!simon

cw: hybrid au, bunny!reader, farmer!price, pregnant!reader, pregnancy, man-handling, fingering, pwp/smut, full nelson (sex position), oral sex (f receiving), threesome, guard dog!simon, double penetration, older!price, mindbreak, (there's a lot happening),

part one (simon) | part two (simon & johnny)

bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? suggest your own!

john never thought it would get to this. when he bought the farm and raised his hybrid guard dogs, he never expected to have a bunny around. let along a pregnant one.

but almost six months into your pregnancy, he had grown affectionate of you. sure you were a bit to handle sometimes, but in a way pregnancy, a roof over your head and a fully belly (in both ways) has made you softer. less of a wild animal and more of a pet.

it was cute.

the one thing that didn't change was your insatiable lust. originally price thought that two strong hybrid dogs would take care of your little bunny cunt, but not even those could stop you. let alone the heaviness of your middle.

the boys were out patrolling the yard with you safe in the house. you were curled up on simon's doggy bed with your hands on your belly and your hands situated on your belly with your head propped up on a pillow.

it was cute, john found himself almost enamored by the sight of you as he relaxed on the couch with a beer in his hand. you were just so small, the little bit of chub at your hips only made you seem cuter.

he got up from the couch and left the beer on the table as he walked toward you. he crouched down and rubbed your cheek. you leaned into his touch and whimpered a little. he chuckled and said, "good girl."

your eyes opened a little and you looked up at price, "what time is it?" your little tail did a wiggle under the over-sized shirt that you wore. he chuckled and pulled you close to him.

he fully sat down on the floor and took you into his arms, delicately. his hand grazed your middle, "not even close to lunch, the boy's are still out. it's just you and i."

you dipped your nose into the crook of his neck and you whimpered, "i feel wet."

"yeah, havin' wet dreams about simon, mama?"

"no." you said, "about you." as your hand reaches for his shirt and you held onto it. you buried your face deeper into his neck as he held you on the hardwood floor.

price's eyes went wide for a moment but then slowly got up with you in his arms. it was like holding a sack of potatoes. the most prominent part of you was the puppy was slept soundly in your belly.

"then i guess we must go to bed then. i know you love simon's bed, but my knees and back won't let me fuck you on the floor." his voice was gruff.

you giggled, "be gentle, baby's sleeping."

"of course, bunny." he replied as he brought you upstairs to his bedroom. there was a spare room for guests and an extra room for the three hybrids of his home.

but right now he was taking you to his room where he could fuck that sweet bunny cunt. it hadn't been the first time he had ever done it, but every time it was something else. a wild little hybrid now tamed and under his gentle care, the way he tamed his boys.

the bed was large and soft, he placed you down and started to work on the jeans he wore followed by the flannel of his shirt. he was hairier than simon and johnny, who had tufts here and there to show their hybrid heritage. but price was hairy that was a man was.

you wondered if a human got a hybrid pregnant then what would the baby be. because from the size of price, you were certain to have a heavy newborn. you got off your shirt and sat there naked on the bed, exposed to your farmer.

his large hands touched your belly gently, thumb grazed the stretch marks, "keepin' the little pup nice and safe, huh? bein' a good mama for me?

you nodded, "only the best for you, sir."

he reached down and rubbed your chubby little cheek, "i can see why simon trapped ya." he chuckled, "cute thing like you shouldn't be wandering the woods. that little cottontail will get into too much trouble."

he got onto the bed and man-handled you into his lap, he wanted to feel you as deep as he could. he wanted to know the inside and outside of bunny cunt. but the position he got you into was more of a wrestling move to keep you pinned against him.

you put your knees up to your head and he had your arms pinned back against him. your squirmed a little, you sort of loved the idea of being trapped. john was propped up against the oak headboard with his little pet bunny in his lap with her cunt soon full of his cock.

it was a little hard to do with such a big belly in the way, you had to squish it a little as you were moved to fit his position. you faced the door that led out of the bedroom and with a few misplaced thrusts, you moaned when price sank his cock into you.

"ah, sir!" you whimpered.

he thrusted into you and kept you in the position. it tested you physical limits but john was a strong man and you were a flexible bunny. after all you had to get through his fence somehow. but now you were all nice a plump with child.

price groaned at the idea of you pregnant with his child next. such a sweet little bunny carrying the farmer's seed made his cock throb while buried inside of you. you sweet noises were music to his ears.

"you like that, mama." he groaned, "you like when i fuck you hard?" he kissed the shell of your ear, "simon got lucky to have a taste of you first, because if it were me. if i caught you in my vegetable patch, then you'd never get the taste of my cock out of your mouth."

you kicked your legs out a little bit as he sank into your further, as deep as it would go. you could feel his cock pressed against your womb. your ears twitched and you felt soaked.

"you'd like that wouldn't you. maybe a little bit more time before you go on birth control would do you some good. see if you can take this old man's seed in your pretty, fertile cunt." he grumbled, "bunnies are known for their many babies."

you felt something churn in your stomach as your pregnant belly bounced with every hard thrust. the sex was rough, heat filled the air as you two moved together.

"i like how you look, mama. all swollen with pup. i bet it was so easy for you, took simon's seed so nicely." he purred as he held you tightly, making it slightly uncomfortable.

but you felt on cloud nine, until the bedroom door opened. and on the otherside was none other than your lover, simon. you whimpered and kicked out your legs.

simon was covered in muck, blood across the shirt he wore. he watched you as you were cock drunk and raised an eyebrows, "price." he said, "what are you doin' with my girl."

"she needed a little tlc, simon." he replied, "you know what bunnies are like. they could be having thirteen kits and still beg for another." he looked over your shoulder and asked, "what the hell did you get into."

"had to scare of a coyote." simon replied, "he could smell bunny all the way from the fence. that's how i knew you were fuckin' her."

"then get that shirt off and help me out." john replied as his pace became harder. you saw stars and your mouth hung open for a moment in pure lust.

with his shirt off and dropped to the floor, followed by, his jeans. he was soon on the bed and licking at your sweet cunt as price fucked you. you were trapped between the two men and you felt a dizziness in your mind.

this was somehow more intense than the threesome you had with johnny and simon. simon only let those in his 'pack' have a taste of his pregnant mate, which meant coyotes like graves were off limits. if simon ever saw graves' paws on you.

simon kept your legs open with his strong hands, the tips of his claws left indents in your skin as he lapped at your cunt. his tongue did touch price's cock which made the older man feel hot all over.

you were the loudest out of the three of you, your voice was high pitched and you felt so full. you squirmed against both men but they kept you still as best as they could.

you came once, then twice, the three times from the pleasure from both men. it was sensory overload. your mind went blank by the third orgasm that the men pulled from you. which left simon painfully hard.

"got any room in there, price." simon said as he pulled away from your cunt and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. his cock stood at full attention in his underwear.

"well, she'll need a good stretch if she's havin' your pup." price chuckled, he could feel himself getting closer. you on the other hand were mindlessly moaning without being able to form words.

your pussy was so wet that he slid in next to price with ease. the stretch made you whimper like an animal, but soon you were dropped back into the depths of pleasure as both men used you.

price let go of your arms but caged you with his around your middle. you felt sore, but your brain couldn't register much. your mouth hung open and drooled a little. your brain felt like it was broken in half.

"i know you can't smell it, price." simon said, "but bred bunny smells the best." his hands were on your belly and soon were price's. simon felt superior for having seeded you first.

sure his other packmates had their fun, but everything from the pup in your belly to the cotton on your tail was his. he watched your gasp for air as you tried to formulate thoughts.

his poor pregnant mate, such a beating to your pussy. but it was okay, he knew that you liked it. bunny's had a pension for a little pain.

both men, fucked you without much abandon. they ever managed to pull one last orgasm out of you which tore from your throat as you went limp against price's hairy chest. the feeling of two cocks inside of your cute little cunt was just too much.

and not wasting any seed, they flooded your poor pussy with human and hybrid seed alike. they stayed in you for a moment more before they pulled out at the same time. cum oozed out of you and simon petted your belly.

"johnny's gonna be jealous he didn't get to join." price remarked.

simon replied, "before he went out on patrol with me. he stuffed a sock in her mouth and fucked her in his bed on the floor. she's got all of our seed in her."

price held you in his arms as you twitched and moaned from the aftershocks of your activity. he watched simon kiss you before he rubbed your belly, "good mama. good little bunny, now you rest and keep growing that pup. simon and i will come back for you later."

you managed to give them a weak nod, your brain felt flat-lined but the lingering feelings of pleasure still shook you to your core <3

[sweetbuckybarnes]

Who is This? - Bucky x Reader

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Bucky had a wife during the 40s, she was left heartbroken after the telegram arrived (missing, presumed dead). It's surprising when 80 years later, she was working behind a bar in Madripoor of all places!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Part 2

Bucky followed Sam and Zemo into a loud bar, he immediately wanted to turn around and go home, why had Zemo demanded he go back to being the Winter Soldier (even if it was one night)?

The sound of heavy drums and guitars also deafened his hearing, a song he had come to learn was The Wild Boy by a band called Duran Duran. A few bartenders and waitresses were walking around, there was only one who stuck out to him - a dark-haired young woman who reminded him too much of his departed wife.

His heart breaks even more, thinking of the woman he had left behind, his girl. The love of his life. Bucky doesn't think he will ever 'get over' her.

The way the young woman walked, carrying a tray of empty glasses (before being tossed an empty bottle by a patron), was so similar to the way his girl walked in the hole-in-the-wall diner she worked in.

She wasn't quick enough to duck under the bar before they got to the door leading upstairs (which was coincidentally next to the bar), Zemo was talking to the bouncer. "Excuse me, gentlemen," the young woman said, squeezing between the back of Zemo and the front of Bucky. Which is when he got a good look at her face.

There she was.

His girl. His wife.

He couldn't even say anything to her, as he was taken upstairs and away from his girl. He could only hope he would be allowed back in at the end of the night to see her.

Y/N Barnes made her way behind the bar, glancing up at the TV where the Kansas City Chiefs were currently playing the Buffalo Bills at Arrowhead Stadium, then down at her phone which showed the live score of the Dodgers game against the San Francisco Giants.

She had been a long-time Dodgers girl, even after she found out they had moved from Brooklyn to Los Angeles.

"Did you see the way he was looking at you?" Yasmine asked, pushing a dry Martini in front of a 26-year-old woman.

Y/N looked up from the glasses she was putting in the dishwasher. "Huh? What are you talking about?"

"One of the men who went upstairs. The way he was looking at you," Yasmine fans her hand for dramatic effect. "I would drop my panties for him in a millisecond."

"Like you don't do that every night."

Yasmine rolled her eyes and served the next half-drunk who had come to the bar.

"Don't listen to her," Anastasia told her, rolling her eyes as Yasmine flirted with her current flavour of the week.

"It's not often I do, darling," Y/N replied, fiddling with Anastasia's curls for a second, before spotting a patron. "What can I get for you, darling?"

He hung off the bar, obviously far too drunk to understand what was going on. "Another beer and your phone number," he slurred.

She shook her head, reaching over and grabbing him another beer. As far as the boss of the bar (whoever that was) was concerned unless they were unconscious- why should you stop serving them? Y/N thought it wasn't right, but no matter how often she voiced this - she was shut down.

She set the beer in front of him and then went to the register to add it to his bill (good thing she currently has his credit card behind the bar).

"Oi, sweet cheeks!" He calls, but Y/N doesn't pay attention looking over at Yasmine and Anastasia with a raised eyebrow. "Sweet cheeks! I asked for your number."

Y/N replied by simply raising her hand proudly displaying her engagement and wedding rings to the drunk. It was only a small diamond (given Bucky worked on the docks before he was deployed), and the plain band she inherited from her great-grandmother.

"What's the matter with that 'un?" He hiccups. "He got you costume jewellery or somethin'?"

Y/N shook her head. "I'm going into the back for a moment," she tells Aidan.

Little did the drunk patron know, all those years ago, this was the date she was handed the telegraph - putting in such blunt words. Her James was missing, they presumed him to be dead. It breaks her heart that they never got to have a proper funeral.

"You alright, honey?" Elizabeth (another one of the waitresses) asked, she had been outside on her break. Elizabeth was the only one who knew her true age and about her James.

"It's the day I found out James was missing," Y/N said, before bursting into more tears.

Elizabeth wrapped Y/N up in a hug, everyone oblivious to the fact that Y/N's presumed dead husband was now running through the bar, flocked by Sam and Zemo, and into the alley behind the bar.

When Bucky was sure Zemo, Sam and Sharon were asleep, he slipped out of the safe house and into the night - determined to find out if the woman he saw in the bar was that of his (presumably? should be?) dead wife.

He eventually made his way to the front door of the bar, the bouncers had long since gone home. He could see lights on in the building and just about make out words being spoken thanks to the Super Soldier serum running through his veins.

He grasped the handle and gave it a push, the door hadn't been locked, as it gave beneath the slight push.

He could see three young women sitting on the bar, a man who was counting the money from the register and another man who was dancing.

The young woman sitting closest to the bar, had golden curls hanging around her head. "Mark, you didn't lock the door!"

The man dancing, Mark, looked over at Bucky, eyes widening when he saw the size of Bucky. "I say we just serve him, then lock the door behind him."

As the bartenders and waitress argued amongst themselves, Bucky's eyes never left the woman in the middle. It looked as if she had been crying. "Babydoll?"

The woman stopped giggling, tipping her head back to normal and looked at him, before dropping her glass as tears welled up in her eyes. "James?"

The curly-haired woman gasped, setting her glass down and giving Y/N a push off the bar.

Bucky held his arms out to catch her as her feet landed on the floor. He couldn't stop looking at her big eyes, he'd always loved her big expressive eyes. He always knew how she was feeling by just a look in her eyes.

"James? Is that you?" Her hand came out slowly, and shakily, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing in front of her.

"Hi, babydoll," Bucky smiled, tears starting to fall down his cheeks, a heavy sob held tightly in his chest at the moment in time. As soon as her fingers met his skin, Bucky let out a heavy sigh of relief, reaching over and pulling her into his arms. Y/N's arms dug themselves away from his chest and up around his neck before her hand soon started fiddling with his hair.

The couple stood there for a moment, finally finding their slice of peace. Some came barging into the bar, and the dark-haired woman who had been sitting on the other side of Y/N practically demanded Mark lock the door before the Hounds of Baskerville came in.

Y/N was so happy to finally have her James back in her arms, but there was a whirling sound she couldn't let go. "What's that noise?"

Bucky looked from his wife to his arm and back to his bride. "I'll explain everything to you later, but... I lost my arm, and I now have a prosthetic one," he tells her, letting go of her for a moment so he could take his glove off and show her the black and gold Vibranium one he had made.

"Ok, James. It's a good thing you gave me this," she reached beneath her top and pulled a ring out from beneath, hanging from a chain. "Before you were deployed."

Bucky smiled, cupping her face so he could kiss her. Bucky pulled away chuckling a little. "Babydoll, will you please put my ring back on?"

She reached behind her to unclasp the chain, and slid Bucky's band off, "if it doesn't fit we'll get it resized."

"I don't care what size it is, as long as you put my ring back where it belongs," Bucky almost growled, a piece of him falling back into place with the ring back on his finger.

The next morning - Sam, Zemo and Sharon came into the living room, seeing Bucky sleeping on the sofa (Sam was expecting this, after being told by Steve), however, there was a lump lying next to Bucky they didn't recognise.

Sam slowly makes his way over, gently easing down the thick blanket lying over Bucky and the lump.

Lying there, practically on top of the 'bionic staring machine' was a young woman.

"Did he somehow pick up a girl?" Sam whispered. Sam and Sharon were trying to be quiet - however, Zemo (who didn't care) started clattering around the kitchen, causing Bucky to wake up in a start, which then caused the young woman to look up with tired owl-like eyes.

"What the hell is going on?" Bucky nearly demanded, keeping his arms wrapped around his companion.

Sam raised his eyebrow. "I could ask you the same question, Barnes?" Sam looked at the young woman in Bucky's arms. "Who is this?"

Bucky looked down at her, Sam watched as a smile grew on his face. "This is Y/N. Y/N Barnes. My wife."

[vivwritesfics]

"I Don't Know Anything About Dinosaurs"

Spencer was meant to be at the museum on a blind date, not walking around with a mother and son, listening to him as he spouted off dinosaur facts. But then the kid goes missing and it's Spencer's mission to save him.

Spencer x Single mother! Reader

Spencer Reid hated the thought of a blind date. He didn't know if said blind date being set up by Garcia made things better or worse. At least Garcia was a fellow need. She liked some of the things Spencer was into and hopefully knew people who were also into those things.

Their meeting place being a museum had to be a good sign, he thought as he stared up at the recreation of the Parasaurolophus skeleton. But, so far, there had been no sign of her. He looked around with the knowledge that she'd be wearing a green scarf and carrying a museum tote bag, but she was nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly, somebody was tugging at his sleeve. Spencer looked down to see a boy with wild, dark curls staring up at him. "Excuse me, Mister," the boy said as he looked up at Spencer. "You're blocking the sign." Spencer looked to his left and saw that he really was blocking the sign.

Not that this little boy would be able to read it from his height. "I'm sorry," Spencer said gently as he stepped to one side.

He couldn't help but watch as this little boy walked over to the sign full of dinosaur facts. Just as Spencer had thought, he'd been too short to read it, but he stood on his tiptoes and really tried.

When the boy gave up, he turned to Spencer. "Hey Mister," he said and put his hands on his hips. "Wanna help a fella out?"

Spencer couldn't help but wonder where this kid had learnt this phrase. He looked around before he crouched down, matching the kids height. "Is your mom anywhere around here?" Spencer asked. The kid shrugged her shoulders and, suddenly, Spencer was trying not to panic. "Do you want help finding her?"

Again, the boy shrugged. "She knows where to find me," he said and turned his attention back to the dinosaur.

Spencer stayed by the kid. He looked around, searching for any sign of his mother. But nobody around him seemed like they were panicked or looking for him.

Suddenly, shouts filled the room. "Jimmy!" Somebody shouted. Spencer looked around until he saw a young woman running towards him and the kid. "Jimmy!" When she got close enough, she grabbed the boy and pulled him into her embrace.

But then she stood up straight and looked at him, her expression stern. "James L/N, you know better than to run off like that!"

Jimmy pouted as he looked at his mother. "I'm sorry, momma," he said. "I just wanted to see the dinosaurs."

Her face dropped and she ruffled his dark curls. "It's okay, baby. We can look at them together," she said softly.

Jimmy took his mothers hand, but he turned towards Spencer. Spencer, who knew everything, but didn't know why he was still standing there, watching them. "This fella was gonna help me read the sign," he said.

His mother suddenly turned to Spencer. She tightened her grip on her sons hand and placed her other on her hip as she stared at him.

Spencer jumped into action. "He, uh, he said his mother knew where to find him. I didn't want to leave him here until someone came to claim him," he explained.

She dropped the hand from her hip. "Well, thank you," she said and lifted her son up. She placed him on her hip so that he could read the sign and turned her attention to Spencer. "Do you like Hadrosaurs?" She asked as she nodded her head to the not entirely real skeleton. (Well, maybe a few bones were real, but not the whole thing.)

Spencer shook his head. "No. I'm more of a science museum guy," he answered. He didn't add that he rarely got time to visit a museum with his job.

"Well, if you wanna know anything about any of the dinosaurs, I'm sure Jimmy would be happy to answer you," she said in reply. Her smile was polite, sweet, one Spencer found he really liked looking at.

Spencer took one last look around the museum, one last look for the blind date that Garcia had set up for him. He'd mentally prepared himself for a date, mentally prepared himself to be confident and out going. He wasn't about to let that go to waste.

"I don't know anything about dinosaurs." A lie. "Do you mind if I joined you?"

That was how Spencer spent his day. If his date eventually showed up to the museum, he didn't much care. He was much happier listening to Jimmy talk about dinosaurs. For the first time in his life, Spencer bit his tongue. Jimmy rarely got any of his facts wrong, and Spencer didn't add to his knowledge base, not when he'd said he didn't know anything about dinosaurs.

Once they got back to the museum entrance, Jimmy dragged his mother to the gift shop, and Spencer was only happy to follow. When Jimmy found two soft toys that he wanted (an Ankylosaurus and a Pachycephalosaurus), Spencer helped him to decide which one he wanted.

Jimmy told Spencer everything he knew about the Ankylosaurus as they walked out of the museum. But, once they were on the steps, his mother squeezed his hand. "We've gotta go, Jim," she said softly to him.

Jimmy pouted, but then he turned to Spencer. "It was nice to meet you, Spencer," he said. "You're a nice fella."

Spencer couldn't help but grin. "Thanks for teaching me all about Dinosaurs, Jimmy," he said as he crouched down to his height. "Take good care of, Anky."

He stood up straight and looked at Jimmy's mother. "He's right," she said. "It really was nice to meet you. Thanks for being so nice to him. I don't know many other people who would walk around and let a six year old talk at them for hours."

Spencer shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked on the balls of his feet. "No, I learnt a lot," he replied. Neither of them had spoken about Jimmy having a father, or his mother having a partner. There had been no ring on her finger, and the profiler could pick up no indications that she had a partner.

So, Spencer took a leap of faith. "Maybe we could do this again sometime."

Her grin only grew. "I'm sure Jimmy will find some more facts for you," she said, her hand on his sons head. But then she went fishing through her bag and pulled out her phone. "Give me your number," she said and handed him her phone.

Spencer put his number into the phone and passed it back. She typed out a text and quickly sent it to him. "Until next time, Doctor Reid," she said and walked Jimmy down the museum steps, leading him to her car.

Spencer couldn't help but watch them go.

***

The case must have been local. JJ had told them not to back an overnight bag and they all rushed to the BAU as quickly as they could.

It had only been a few days since Spencer had met Jimmy and his mother. They'd texted here and there, but they were both pretty busy with their jobs. Still, he couldn't help but think of them as the elevator took him up. After this case was done, he'd make arrangements to see them again. To find out what new dinosaur facts Jimmy had for him.

He and the rest of the team sat around the round table. Within seconds JJ was walking into the room and turning on the monitor. "James L/N has been reported missing by his mother," she said as the rest of the team passed around folders.

Spencer felt his heart stop. James. Jimmy. Reported missing by his mother. Jimmy, the sweet boy who knew so much about dinosaurs, had been reported missing. He suddenly couldn't breathe.

"His mother said she put him to bed and went to clean up the kitchen. When she checked on him before taking herself to bed, he was gone," JJ continued.

"Jimmy." Spencer couldn't stop himself from saying it.

All eyes were suddenly on him. JJ took a step towards him. "What is it, Spence?" She asked softly. She always was soft with him, almost treating him like he was a child. It wasn't what he needed right now, but he was grateful.

"I-I know this boy," he said as he flipped through the folder that was passed to him. "He, uh, his mom calls him Jimmy, not James."

"You know his mother?" Hotch asked him.

Spencer nodded. "They were at the museum last weekend. I walked around the exhibits with them," he said.

Hotch sent them on their way. He, Rossi, Prentiss, and Garcia began looking through all the information they could find on James L/N and his mother, while JJ, Reid and Morgan went to James's house.

Before this, Spencer had been wondering if he could count their time at the museum as a date. It hadn't been, really. But he wanted to take her on one, or at least get to know her better.

He couldn't believe his first time inside of her house was going to be because of a case. Spencer couldn't help but feel a little sick as he, JJ and Morgan walked up the steps to the house. There was an array of flowers in the garden. Some in pots lining the steps, some on the windows, some hanging beside the door.

Spencer raised his fist. The stained glass window panes painted a scene. Water, a clock tower, a bird flying above the ocean. Spencer sucked in a breath and knocked between the window panes.

The door was open within seconds. Jimmy's mother stared at the three ages. Morgan said her name. "We're with the-"

But, before he could finish he sentence, she threw herself at Spencer, wrapping her arms around him. Spencer stood there for a moment, unable to move. But then he hesitantly wrapped his arms around her. "He's gone," she cried against Spencer's chest.

"I know," Spencer whispered, his large hand against her back. "But we're gonna find him."

JJ and Morgan hung back as they watched the interaction. It felt intimate, something they couldn't interrupt. But she let go of Spencer and stepped to the side, letting all three agents into her house.

She wrapped her arms around herself as she shut the door behind them. "I... I didn't touch anything in his room," she said as she led them upstairs. At the very first room she pushed open the door.

Morgan and JJ pulled on gloves as they stepped into the room. But it was perfectly clean. The bed was made, the room had been cleaned up, but there was no sign of a break in. "Reid, take her downstairs," Morgan said as he and JJ began combing through the room.

Spencer did just that. He took her downstairs and sat her on the sofa, sitting himself beside her. She drew in a shaky breath. "He has Anky," she said quietly and wiped at her eyes. "If I had known you were FBI I would have called you before I called the police."

He swallowed. "I'm here now," he said, meeting her teary gaze. "And I need you to tell me everything that happened, starting with when you put Jimmy to bed."

She ran Spencer through her entire evening. Starting with dinner, and then bath time, story time and bed. She told him how she cleaned the kitchen after dinner and took some time, only ten minutes to read. By the time she went up to check on him, by the time she was ready to go to sleep herself, Jimmy was gone.

When she started crying Spencer rubbed her back. There was little else he could do to offer contact as he asked as she had noticed anything or anybody strange recently. He'd already worked out that the unsub must have known her usual schedule to be able to take Jimmy and then clean his room.

Before Spencer could piece together any information from her answers, the phone began ringing. She drew in a sharp gasp as she turned her head towards it.

When she looked at Spencer again, he nodded and she picked up the phone. "H-hello?" She said, voice shaking as she put the phone on speaker.

"Hi mommy!"

Immediately, tears sprang to her eyes. "Jimmy?" She cried. "Is that you, baby?"

"Yeah, mommy," he said. He sounded fine and she had to take comfort in that.

Her hand fell onto Spencer's and she squeezed. Squeezed him to the point of pain. But Spencer didn't say anything. He squeezed her back, trying to be encouraging. "Jimmy, baby, can you tell me where you are? I-It's almost time for lunch and I need to come get you."

"I'm with a friend, mommy," Jimmy answered. "Her name is mommy, too. She said she's gonna make me lunch."

Suddenly, Spencer's brows furrowed. She. The unsub was a woman.

"Mommy, she wants to speak to you," Jimmy said. Spencer watched as her eyes went wide and she began rapidly shaking her head.

But Spencer squeezed her hand and nodded his head. She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Okay, Jimmy, But, can you tell me where you are first, baby?"

Jimmy didn't answer her.

There was an indistinguishable noise from the other end and then, "Leave my son and I alone!"

It was a woman's voice, an obviously upset woman's voice. As the rest of the team came down the stairs Spencer pressed his fingers to his lips.

"Please," she said desperately as she looked at Spencer. "Please, just bring Jimmy home. He's all I got."

"His name isn't Jimmy!" The other woman suddenly cried. "He's my son and his name is Robert!" She ended the call after that, cutting off the contact.

Her hands shook as she put the phone down.

"His name is Robert," Spencer repeated. He said it to himself a few times as the rest of the team crowded around her to ask her more questions. Desperately, she looked at Spencer, but he pulled his phone from his pocket and pressed it to his ear.

***

Spencer didn't sleep much on this case. He couldn't, not until he knew that Jimmy was safe at home with his mother.

He had Garcia look into mothers who had lost their children. More specifically, mothers that had lost children called Robert.

The whole team tried several different angles for the case. While Morgan and JJ interviewed mothers that had lost children, Spencer and Garcia desperately searched through records of institutions.

Their lucky break was when the unsub called once again. Spencer had been there, thank god. All she had to do was call and he was running.

Garcia had set things up to trace the call. When the phone began ringing, she held her hand against her chest. "It's okay," Spencer assured her.

He picked up the phone and placed it in her hands. "Hi Mommy!"

"Jimmy!" She sat up straighter. "Jimmy, baby, are you okay?" She asked desperately.

There was a beat of silence, one that had her heartbeat erratic. "I'm okay, Mommy. I've lost Anky, though."

She swallowed. "Well, when you're home, we can go to the museum again and get you another."

"Can Spencer come with us?"

Spencer nodded at her. Of course they could go back to the museum. The moment they got Jimmy home, Spencer would take the both of them.

"Yeah, Jimmy. We can take Spencer."

Suddenly the call was ended. "Jimmy?!" She cried, desperately. But he was gone.

"Garcia, have you got it?" Spencer called down his phone as he stood.

Garcia listed off the address. Immediately Spencer was using his long legs to stride to her front door. "Wait!" She cried, rushing after him. Spencer turned, his eyes soft as he looked at her. "Bring him home."

Hotch didn't want Spencer going with them. He was too close to the case, and they all knew it wouldn't end well. But Jimmy knew him, and he was more likely to actually go with Spencer.

The team entered the house, guns drawn. With noises from the living room and the upstairs, the team split up.

Spencer and JJ headed into the living room. Cartoons played on the television, and Spencer had to hope it was Jimmy.

And Jimmy it was. "Hi Spencer!" He called the moment the FBI agent came into view.

Immediately Spencer felt his heart stop. He put his gun away and crouched down in front of Jimmy. "Hey, Buddy," he said as Jimmy hugged him. "We're gonna get you home to your mom, okay?"

"Okay," Jimmy said as Spencer picked him up.

The rest of the team arrested the unsub, a woman who had lost her child years ago. She fought to get to Jimmy when she was walked towards the police car, cuffs around her wrists.

***

Spencer held Jimmy's hand in the police station. Jimmy told Spencer more dinosaur facts. "I wanna go back to the museum," he said. "And I want you to come."

"Your mom is gonna be happy to take you," Jimmy," he said and handed him a pen. Jimmy began drawing as he waited for his mom to show up.

When she did, she ran through the police station. She ran straight over to her son and pressed kisses all over his face. She pulled away to look at him, to check him over. "Oh baby," she said and hugged him tight. "I missed you."

"Missed you too, Momma," he said and showed her his dinosaur drawings. "Can we go to the museum with Spencer, momma?"

With Spencer standing behind Jimmy, he wore a matching pout. "Can I?" He asked.

"Please Momma!"

How could she say no?

(It wasn't meant to be a first date, but the treated it as such)