Imagine: Celebrating the New Year with Wheatley

(Gender Neutral Reader)

    Down in the depths of the Aperture Science Enrichment Center it becomes incredibly difficult to tell time. Most clocks are either broken or out of battery. Any atomic clocks that might have adorned a desk were damaged beyond repair. Two things, however, have never let you down. The first is your always chatty companion, Wheatley. The second: the moon.

    You catch glimpses of the beautiful celestial body in a very certain room. You’re on a higher level of the facility for sure, although through the years the floor level designations have long since worn away. There is a hole, large and rotten around the edges as the ceiling tiles wear away from rain. You can see through countless floors, countless miles up, until the moon- sublime and beaming- takes up the star-pocked sky.

    You had developed a simple moon calendar based on one Wheatley had mentioned during his rambling stories, and he even gave you a starting date to help. While you couldn’t be sure of his accuracy, you could at least be appreciative of his help. As often as you can, the two of you would return to the room for respite and to add a notch onto your calendar. One night as the two of you chat away about nothing, something comes to Wheatley.

    “Oh! Love, mark on that calendar- lovely job by the way, amazing idea I had and you completed, teamwork- it’s New Year’s Eve! You humans take that seriously, don’t you? That whole Y2K incident and all.” His optic rolled at the mention of that. Although you weren’t quite paying attention past his first statement.

    “It’s New Years Eve?” You repeated it back to him. It couldn’t possibly be New Years Eve. There’s no fanfare, no fireworks- the world is silent. To be fair, there is no one to celebrate it around here. Just Wheatley, GLaDOS, and you; you highly doubt GLaDOS would be holding a New Years Eve party. “Wheatley, how long until midnight?”

    “Around...” He pauses for a moment, glancing up at nothing. “Two hours. Love, I know New Years is important to you humans, but- don’t know if you noticed- we have no traditional means of celebration.”

    You clap your hands together and start putting your plan into motion. Wheatley watches you from the position you had put him on a desk, commenting and questioning here and there. You string some rusty paperclips into a chain and hang it using some spare push-pins- really hoping whoever had you asleep kept you up on your tetanus shots-  and get to work cutting out some firework shapes from colored printer paper to tape to the walls. 

    “You like fireworks, Love?” Wheatley asked, oddly quiet for his usual rambling self.

    “Well, they are loud, but they’re beautiful. The colors glowing against the dark night sky...” Some sadness creeps up on you as you’re cutting out the fireworks, but you push it back down and continue crafting. “Anyways, it really is beautiful. These little things don’t really compare.” You chuckle as you hold up one of them for Wheatley to see. “I think they’re cute though!” You start pinning them to the wall.

    “Y’know, Love, I’ve never actually seen them- well, never footage of them at least. Never been out of here anyway, no management rail up and all. I-... Like yours.” His eye is looking at anything but you at this point. He sputters “Could’ve done some science to make them glow- not hard of course, for a core of my intellect.” You giggle and his optic meets your eyes again. As you walk over to him you smile, taking a seat on the desk at a nice spot where you could see both the moon and your little craft project.

    “Time check, Wheatley?” You cradle him on your lap, gazing wistfully at the heavenly body.

    “From my extensive calculations- very hard to do, by way, very complex- I would say its about to be a minute from New Years Day. I’ve heard you humans- silly things you are- like to count down the seconds. You start from... Ten, I believe?”

    “You’re right, we humans are silly... Lets count down, okay, Wheats?” The sadness from before starts to weigh on you. How long has is been since you’ve been outside? Seen the world, seen any kind of civilization or people... Hearing him begin to count snaps you out of it. You join him, rhythmically counting down the seconds until you finally reach the end. You see no fanfare in the sky, hear no booming of fireworks or clinking of glasses. Just the unending silence and creaking of a facility long forgotten.

    “Happy New Year, Love...” Wheatley whispers, a rare quiet in his voice. “Thank you- for the fireworks and sparkly banners... Its the best one I’ve ever had.” His kind words are exactly what you needed. You look to your wall of crafts, the paper clips twinkling in the light and your crude paper cut outs finding new meaning.

    “Happy New Year, my dear.” You whisper back, holding him close and putting a gentle kiss on his metal chassis. He doesn’t respond, but the gentle whirring of his fans lulls you into peace. Eyes still gazing up at the moon.

Holy moly, it’s been a while, huh everyone? Hello! I do want to write more soon- it’s just been a liiiittle crazy these past two or so years. Anyways, I’ll be writing more again soon! (I hope…) feel free to put in asks to get me motivated!

H-E-Double Hockey Sticks

Imagine: You take Charlie’s place chopping down the pine tree. An angsty fic with fluff at the end! Warning for death and gore (If you’ve seen the episode it’s basically the same amount of death and gore) Gender Neutral Reader

   It had happened so fast that Charlie couldn’t believe what he was looking at. Just a moment ago you had taken the ax from him insisting on cutting down the Christmas tree yourself. He couldn’t even remember what the argument you had all shared was about or why he had been angry in the first place. All he could see now was your viscera staining the snow a cherry wine color, a once beautiful pine tree crushing the one person he adored more than any other. Pim’s hands were covering his mouth, Alan’s mouth was agape as he held a hand on Glep’s shoulder. Charlie could feel his knees shaking, threatening to give out as his eyes began to well and his mouth grew dry. It was Alan who was able to recover first.

   “We need to call an ambulance.” Alan said, the tone of his voice showing he already knew it wouldn’t be to resuscitate you. “Charlie, give me your phone, please.” Charlie could see Alan’s hand reach out to him. He felt numb, his eyes wouldn’t- no- couldn’t leave your body as he shakily reached into his pocket and handed his phone over. He could hear Alan dialing as if he were miles away; Charlie taking a shaky step towards your body before his knees hit the ice cold snow. He was supposed to be under that tree. He was supposed to be the one who died. He could feel Pim’s hand on his shivering shoulder, hardly even realizing that he’d been sobbing. 

   Why did it have to be you?

   Over the next week your funerary preparations were taken on by Pim, occasionally asking Charlie questions like what your favorite flower was for the burial wreath. Charlie had wanted to be more involved but was far too unavailable emotionally to even manage making a funerary card. His apartment was littered with fast food containers and dirty silverware, him staying in the same clothes from that day. He hardly ever left his bed except to use the restroom and pick up his food deliveries at the door. He had gotten various calls and texts from his friends and colleagues, offering to clean his apartment or make him a home cooked meal- even just offering to be with him in his home to keep him company. Charlie refused every one. What was the point? A clean room wouldn’t bring you back into his arms. A home cooked meal wouldn’t allow him to apologize for the argument that had gotten you all so heated in the first place. The only thing that was able to get him to leave the house was to go to your funeral.

   “Thank you, Pim.” Charlie whispered, staring sadly at your coffin. “It-It’s a nice job.” Pim hugged his best friend. Alan, Glep, and Mr. Boss stood quietly to the side, the reverend saying a small piece about you before inviting Charlie to speak. He shuffled up to the podium. “I miss you. We all do. All we could ever say is how sorry we are. Smiling without you is impossible for me.” Charlie said stiffly. Out of the corner of his eye he could see something arc across the sky. If it was the Frowning Friends’ helicopter, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to keep your funeral peaceful. He hardly had a moment to react before something careened into your coffin causing it to explode into wooden shards. It was a strange mass of flesh colored blobs, coming together in a flash of light. It was you. You looked confused, small and cold. But, you were alive. Charlie ran to you immediately, tripping over himself and throwing his arms around you to wrap you in a protective embrace. “I- How are you-?” He couldn’t form a proper sentence, tears welling in his eyes as he put his face into the crook of your neck. “I’m so sorry.”

   “It’s okay, Charlie.” You whispered, hugging him back as Alan and Glep gathered suit jackets and hats to give to you to shield yourself from the cold. “I forgive you. I was never really angry in the first place, I just wanted to make you feel okay. Truth be told, I can hardly remember what it was about after going through the seven rings.” You giggled, Charlie and your friends looking confused but hardly wanting to question what you meant by it. “Ready for a late Christmas, Charlie?”

   “I’m ready for anything- just to be with you.” He smiled, taking a moment to look away from you and back at his friends. “I would like to take you guys up on that apartment cleaning, though. It’s bad. Like-like really bad.”

This isn’t a fanfic post but I made a phone wallpaper of Heisenberg’s factory if anybody would like it.

Imagine: Stopping to Eat with Wheatley

(Gender Neutral Reader)

Being a test subject in Aperture Science was no easy life, that you knew for sure. The building was in shambles, ceiling tiles often falling into the caustic ponds with a revolting splash. The air was stale after so long- even with the recycling system- and food was scarce. You were lucky that the madman who made small shelters dotted everywhere had left plentiful amounts of canned food. That was one good thing about the place, at least. And one other thing: Wheatley. Sure, he was a bit naive, but he was the best friend you could have down here. He was always as helpful as he could be, and he made for great company. His long winded talks as you two followed slowly along the management rail lines really made your day- especially when you both were able to settle down somewhere decent and enjoy a meal together.

Well, you say: “enjoy a meal together”, but in reality you would just unhook Wheatley from his management rail and prop him up against a wall so you could look at him and eat your spoiled canned beans. But, hey, you have to look at the upside, right? You got onto your tip-toes and gave Wheatley the signal to unhook himself. He was still nervous about it, but after doing it so many times and not letting him fall, he has been better about it. The ball of metal dropped into your waiting arms and you carefully set him down onto the ground, going cross-legged right by him and setting your Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device™️ down with a thunk.

“You know, love, using your portal gun to jam open those cans of beans was bloody genius.” Wheatley spoke. “Of course, I had the same idea as well but- you know- gotta let you have your moments.” You smiled and nodded, going along with it as you got out your makeshift spoon that you carry in your pocket. At times you found yourself wishing that your robotic friend was human. He wouldn’t be able to go on such long tangents- for one. However, a newer feeling started to creep it’s way into your subconscious. What would he look like? Would his skin be soft, delicate to the touch if he took your hand? Would he ruffle his hair when he’s nervous? Would his lips on your cheek send a spark as if he was still a metal machine?

“Uh, love? I know you’re normally quiet and all- may be the brain damage- but you seem a little... spacey.” His nickname for you brought you back to the moment. Love. That nickname was a newer one, and it never failed to give you that creeping feeling of heat up the back of your neck.

“Oh, sorry, Wheats” you responded, looking at him and giving him a smile. “I guess the testing from before just made me tired.” It wasn’t technically a lie. GLaDOS was really starting to up the difficulty of the testing chambers and it was exhausting. Your legs and arms ached, and if you weren’t so hungry right now you were sure you’d take a nap. “Hey... Wheatley? Do you mind if I ask you a question?” You were insane, surely. Maybe GLaDOS was pumping something into the air supply, maybe your lack of energy was getting to you, but you were finally going to ask why he started calling you Love.

“Go for it, Love. I am a master hacker after all, I’m sure I could answer anything your human brain could think of.” His eye moved in that wiggling fashion that always made you laugh, and it settled your nerves slightly.

“Well, that’s part of what I wanted to ask. You’ve started calling me “Love” lately. I was just wondering why.”

If a robot could jolt in surprise, you’re sure Wheatley would have. His eye went wide and what you could call his pupil shrunk. “Well, eh... It just came to me, really. Lovely eyes, lovely hair, lovely grip strength...” The tension in the recycled air was palpable and your face held a blush that could rival the turret’s bright red laser sights. “H-Has a better ring than your normal name, anyways...”

“Oh, Wheats...” you sighed, a sweet smile growing on your face. You set your mediocre beans aside and grabbed the robot that held your affection, placing him in your lap and wrapping around him in a hug. He was warm, and the surprising comfort of it all started to lull you into a daze of sleep.

Just before you nodded off, you heard Wheatley whisper. “You deserve it, my love. We have more testing ahead of us...”

Imagine: Loki Taking Care of the Reader when Sick

(Gender Neutral Reader)

Loki has always preferred the cold. Maybe it was his Jötunn blood, or maybe it was the fact that it was the exact opposite of Asgard. He wasn’t quite sure. But, ever since you had started a relationship with him, you two had moved to the Baltics in a cottage of his design. The only caveat was that the frigid weather often got you sick.

This time it was from getting lost on the way home from running a few quick errands. After wandering down far too many byways, you ended up getting home around two hours after you expected. Luckily your frozen goods were just fine, but at this point you resembled a popsicle. Shaking like a leaf with a red glow on your nose, cheeks, and ears. You were quickly overcome with a cold, and Loki was quick to catch on to that fact.

He had ushered you inside, gently helping you remove your layers of coats that had done you no good, and tucking you into your shared bed. The combination of thick woolen blankets and down feather comforters lulled you into a relaxed haze of sleepy-ness, and with a kiss on the forehead you drifted off.

By the time you woke up, you were met with the comforting yellow glow of the candlelit room and the shadow of Loki above you. He was delicately holding a silver tray, a small bowl of soup sending wisps of steam into the air. You graciously thanked him, and invited him to sit next to you in the bed as you ate.

After a while you found yourself kicking the sheets off of your bed, constantly turning your pillow to the other side to get a fresh cold one. You told your loving partner, and after he brought you back some fresh water, he placed the back of his hand to your forehead. Unsurprisingly you had developed a fever. You were just about to ask him to get your house’s ice pack from the freezer when you saw his skin starting to change. First you noticed the blue inching out of the collar of his shirt, then spreading to his arms and face. He let out a sigh, and you could see the tuft of his breath spiral up into the air. As you admired his visage he put his hand up to your forehead, and the other hand held the back of your neck. The cold from his hands spread quickly, providing sweet relief. You could swear that in this moment, you’ve never felt so good in your life. As you two sat in a comfortable silence you pondered that maybe this is just how being loved by a literal god felt.

This sort of routine carried on for the next day or so, until you had made enough of a recovery to be able to be left alone so Loki could go run the errands that you usually did. You did feel guilty, though. He was a writer, and he was working on his latest book about Asgardian dramas of the early Odin period. That’s when you had an idea to repay your caring lover. You shuffled over to the pantry, blanket draped around your shoulders and trailing silently on the ground behind you. You grabbed out a cake mix -his favorite chocolate flavor- and got to work mixing everything just right. With flour dotting your shirt and face you finally just finished the icing when he walked in. He called out to you as he entered, just as he always did, and hung his jacket and hat at the entrance. You responded from your small kitchen, beckoning him in. As he walked in he locked eyes with you as you showed him your work. It wasn’t the best- certainly not professional. The icing was uneven and you could see the palette knife marks from coating the slightly lopsided cake. But nothing had ever brought him such a genuine smile, especially from seeing the gel iced words written on the top: “Thank you, Loki. I love you.” After placing the cake on the counter, he wrapped you in his embrace, kissing you gently on the forehead and nestling his head in the crook of your neck.

can i get uhhhhhh alphys and undyne hanging out after a long day at their respective jobs

Imagine: Alphys and Undyne Relaxing Together after a Long Day

Alphys and Undyne completely working in different departments of the royalty’s employ make it difficult to line up their schedules, but any spare moment they can get after long days of science and teaching Papyrus how to make spaghetti while in the heat of battle, they accept the time eagerly to either go on a date or just relax in one or the other’s houses.

If they decide to go on a date, they tend to choose a relatively casual spot. Nobody likes to dress fancily after a hard work day. This usually ends up being Grillby’s, as Alphys doesn’t want to disturb Mettaton at his hotel, and Undyne is already close enough to Grillby’s from being at the skeleton brothers house. They’ll share the typical greasy food and talk about each other’s days and accomplishments, and Alphys rambles about whatever season of Mew Mew Kissy Cutie she’s watching at the moment. Undyne, being as supportive as she is, will loudly chime in every once in a while at how shocking a plot twist is or what she thinks on Alphys’ ships.

If they decide to stay in, they’ll both dress in the comfiest pair of pajamas they can find and sit close together on the couch, eating one of Undyne’s culinary experiments. Once Alphys reveals to her that some foods are eaten with a tiny trident, she goes all in on experimenting with it. They even have mini trident fights over a stray French fry or something similar. After some time Alphys got a little saddened about not winning, and Undyne lowered her mastery of all-sized tridents down a few levels. Of course, she’d never tell Alphys that.

Wether at home or out on the town, these two have one thing guaranteed. Their love for each other will make anything they do together a fun memory for them to share.

Imagine: Deku Helping the Quirkless

Izuku knew more than anyone that life could be treacherous without a quirk, especially in primary and middle school. You were an outcast, and were often relegated to menial jobs and activities. Even into adulthood the sense of discrimination still held steadfast. Izuku wanted to change that.

From the money he made during hero work, he bought a small building for sale in the city and started renovating. Slowly but surely he started building what he liked to call: the Quirkless Citizen Center, or, the QCC. Equip with a gymnast training room, a conference center, and a room for the local kids to make friends with fellow Quirkless kids.

Once numbers started to rise, Deku began holding seminars about the true value of the Quirkless population, and gave those who attended fitness classes different combat training in the event of a villain attack. Even on occasion, Deku would pull some strings and bring in one of his Pro Hero friends to give a guest speech to bring in the crowds.

Due to its success the QCC became a whole chain of buildings across the country, with different centers being built to help their respective town’s Quirkless population build their confidence and establish themselves as the worthy members of the population they always were. Eventually, Izuku was awarded a grant in his efforts for service to his community and effort to establish equality in Japan. The award sits proudly in his small QCC office, right next to pictures with the youth he so loved to save.

Imagine: Bakugo Embracing Deafness

      After excessive use of his quirk throughout his childhood and into high school, hearing loss could definitely be expected. It would start small, not being able to hear people whispering. Maybe sitting further to the front of the class to hear Aizawa’s lessons easier. Eventually though, his annual physical with Recovery Girl would come along, and he’d be forced to face his suspicions.

      At first, his irritable nature comes out. He is constantly angry, even more than usual, and yells at his peers to speak up. He fears they will see him as “weak” and tries desperately to keep up his tough guy facade. He walks alone to his Japanese Sign Language classes, and if anybody he recognized just happens to be walking down the same hall, he will intimidate them into never saying a thing. However, slowly but surely, he will begin to accept his situation. Even enjoy it.

      Bakugo quickly becomes competitively obsessed with learning the language, trying to become the best at it out of his peers in his language class. Just to impress he even begins to learn American Sign Language to show that nobody could beat the Great Bakugo at anything. His friends try to nurture this competitive nature and begin to take the class as an extracurricular class with him. They quickly make a leaderboard to judge their progress, and Katsuki skyrockets to the top.

       He’s given a hearing aid, but doesn’t often use it. He’s grown to love the language and culture he has been embraced in, and advocates for it whenever an interviewer would come along. Japan’s deaf community would rally around the young student, and he would become their poster-boy in the hero industry. On occasion, Bakugo would hold meet-ups with his deaf fans, showing children that they are just as good as everybody else around them.

Guidelines for Imagines:

Only SFW content.

No abusive or questionable content in the form of scenarios, descriptions, or actions.

I will only write romantic imagines for those canonically above the age of 18! Any imagines written about minors will be platonic at most.

The exception to this rule is the “1000 year old loli dragon trope”. We know they’re a kid, you can’t fool me 👀

Real people will not be written about. They are actual people with actual lives, even the famous deserve privacy.

Asks will be done at my discretion. If I feel it doesn’t fit my blog or goes against my rules, I won’t write it.