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queer-little-demigod · 8 days

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Hi lea!!!! Can you write about an clarisse la true x apollo!reader

Clarisse got in trouble for something (what's new tho) and got a punishment of helping out with the little demigods art class for 2 weeks (or however long) the volunteer teacher is reader. At first Clarisse did NOT wanna be there she acted like a baby for the first few days but after she got more involved and started to understand she enjoyed it (she would never admit it), she started talking to the kids more (she totally has favorites, reader has to constantly tell her dont be so obvious about her favorites 😭) it got to a point where the kids would start talking to her outside of class. Also Clarisse definitely doesn't develop a crush on reader. AT ALL. SHE DEFINITELY HATES HOW PASSIONATE SHE IS ABOUT THE KIDS AND ART AND HOW GOOD SHE IS WITH KIDS SHE DOESN'T THINK ITS CUTE AT ALL. SHE DOESNT THINK OF THAT CLASS AS ONE BIG FAMILY. I mean what???? Who said that???

Anyways when it's time for her to go reader takes some of the kids to make a goodbye sign for clarisse; clarisse takes her 100% not favorite kid on a secret mission to make an 'I'm staying' sign. Then reader and Clarisse present them at the same time and it's all cutesy!! After class, reader asks clarisse on a date via showing her a pain she drew of them on a date and hopes she gets the message!

Thank you! :)

you got an artist inside you - clarisse la rue

summary where clarisse finds herself falling in love with a girl over paintbrushes and a punishment

fic type fluff

pairing clarisse la rue x fem!apollo!reader

word count 1.8k

warnings none

The camp was usually sleepy, quiet, and mostly empty apart from a few stray campers training here and there. But with summer already beating down with a burning force, it was full of kids running around, training left right and center, and all-in-all just general chaos.

So with the burning heat came grumpy older campers, which meant fights.

And a fight at lunch is what led to Clarissa having to help the younger campers with art class, with the co-teacher being none other than you, Y/n L/n, counsellor of the Apollo cabin. Additionally and otherwise known as the girl Clarisse was smitten with.

"Clarisse La Rue if you don't stop whining like that right now, I am going to smack you," you grumbled in utter frustration for the fifth time that hour, when she complained to you about some kid not cutting the paper the way it was supposed to be cut.

For a child of the god of war, she was such a wuss sometimes.

"But they're not following-" she began to protest, but a smack upside the head with a roll of wrapping paper shut her up.

"They're seven year olds in a summer camp art class," you emphasised on those facts. "They're gonna do their own thing!"

This was how the first few days went. She complained, you disciplined both her and the kids. But once she got used to the whole routine of you both giving instructions and the final products having irritatingly distinct variations, she cooled down.

If this was going to be a punishment for the next two weeks, she might as well enjoy it.

The art room, as usual, was a mess. Glitter was everywhere, coloured pencils were strewn around, papers were on the floor, blackened and trampled on. The strong scent of glue made everyone a bit woozy, and there was enough shouting for supplies across the table to give even the calmest camper a sensory overload.

Clarisse sat in the danger zone where the most glitter was being thrown around and spilled, and her soft skin was already glimmering with purple and red glitter as she tried restoring order. However, instead of yelling as usual she was laughing along with the little kids.

One kid in particular, you noticed, she helped far more than the others. A Hephaestus kid named Dennis, who was the sweetest little thing with big, round glasses and bronze hearing aids that you had Charlie customise so they looked like metal elf ear tips.

You pulled Clarissa aside and scolded her with a smile, “Clar, you cannot pick favourites!”

Clarissa loved your smile with everything she had. So naturally, she was so captivated by it that she didn't hear you the first time. Nor did she register the scolding.

"Excuse me, but Dennis deserves special treatment--" She began, but you cut her off.

"No, he's just like the other kids, okay? Just make sure you don't pick favourites, please," you sighed and walked away, going back to showing the kids how to make paper butterflies.

But you're my favourite, she thought to herself. She wished she had the courage to say it out loud, admit her feelings for you, but she couldn't.

Later, as time went by, as days of standing in clouds of glitter and glue fumes began and ended, Clarisse found that she was apparently likeable. After classes, during training, during dinner, she'd have little kids pulling her sleeve to talk to her, she'd have kids randomly hugging her at odd times of the day, or giving her small artworks like a wonky bird or a odd-looking Cerebrus. It shocked the campers beyond belief.

But for you it just made your love for her grow.

One day during class, a Demeter kid named Flora started to cry because glitter went into her eye. You rushed over immediately and helped her up, holding her in your arms as you took her to the basin to clean her up.

"Shh, don't cry, baby, it's okay, I'm gonna wash it out, alright?" You said softly.

"Guys, focus on your work, Flo's fine," Clarisse said, clapping her hands to direct the staring kids back to work, her eyes fixed on you as you washed Flora's eyes with water gently, telling her that she should not to go so close to the page when blowing glitter off in the softest voice the child of war had ever heard.

You were so gentle, like the softest summer breeze which didn't make the leaves rustle, but cooled one's warming skin. You were so precious, with your soft smile and loving words. Your voice was sweet like honey, no matter who you talked to or how.

If your voice was bottled, she swore to the gods that she'd get drunk on it every night.

"You okay, champ?" She asked, gently ruffling Flora's soft brown hair as the girl sat down. "You're a strong girl, aren't you? Showed that stupid glitter it's place."

You giggled at the way she spoke, covering your mouth with your hand to hide it. It was ridiculously obvious that Clarisse thought the kids in the art class were like family, and it was genuinely so adorable.

Seeing her like this, curly hair pulled back in her red bandanna, arms splattered with paint here and there, with glitter shining off her smooth caramel skin with every movement she made into the light, lit up something inside of you. Seeing her without her usual scowl, pulling funny faces with the kids as she showed them how to draw a monster, made your heart beat twice as fast.

However, two weeks went by with heartbreaking speed, and before she knew it, she was in Chiron's office, listening to him gleefully say she was officially un-grounded.

But honestly? She didn't share his happiness.

Nor did you.

"What?! Already!?" You exclaimed that evening as you sat in your cabin at your desk, which had plans put out for what to make for the next art class.

"Yeah," she grumbled, lounging on your bed. "I hate it."

"That's rough, but it's okay, you can always hop in to volunteer,"

"What do we tell the little ones?"

"The truth?"

"You're fucking crazy if you think they'll go with it,"

"I'm out of options, Clar," you leaned back in your chair and put your hands over your eyes. "I love that class, and I love teaching art."

"I know, and as much as I hate to admit it," she sat up. "So do I."

The very next day, Clarisse rushed to Chiron and begged him to let her stay for that class. Even going to lengths that she told him how she felt for you.

"Fine," he relented. "You can stay with the class for as long as you'd like,"

She'd never run to the forges to find a kid so fast.

"Beckendorf!" She exclaimed, looking at the cabin counselor. "Hey, where's Dennis?"

The boy looked around, and his eyes landed on Dennis, who was inquisitively watching one of his half-sisters mold a few practice swords, helping occasionally with putting the swords in water.

"Dennis!" Beckendorf exclaimed, "Clarisse wants to talk to you!"

Dennis immediately ran over, grinning broadly, showing his gap-toothed smile. "Hi, Clarisse!" He said, excitedly.

"Hey there, big boy!" She smiled back, giving him a high five. "So listen, I'm going to need your insane artistic skills and your help..."

While you did help the other kids make a 'goodbye' sign for Clarisse, on the side you decided to confront your feelings.

You knew you liked her from the beginning, from when you first saw her infectious smile, from when you heard her deep laugh reverberating through the empty Apollo cabin on days where you both would plan lessons.

She held the key to your heart, she knew her way past your walls. She clearly also knew how to remain in your thoughts, subconscious and conscious, to the point where you found yourself in the art studio, canvas on an easel before you.

Thoughts of her, of feeling her coarse, battle-worn hands on your skin, of gazing into those deep brown eyes which were like the colour of the rain-kissed earth, and when she fought were like the evening sun, golden enough to put the wings of Icarus to shame, made your paintbrush move. It made your colours flow like the blood in your veins, made each stroke perfect enough to create the scene you most desired on the canvas in front of you.

You stepped back once you felt the need to express yourself flow away, gazing at the canvas. A scene it held, and what a scene indeed. The sky was cornflower blue, a cloudless day, with the sun’s rays shining down on a big oak tree. The leaves were paler as the golden light kissed the surface, casting sharp shadows on the pillowy grass.

But then there was vivid orange and red, a flash of bronze. In the foreground there sat both you and Clarisse, the latter having more detail than any part of the drawing.

Then the dreaded day came where you all had to say goodbye to her.

The little ones were devastated, not letting Clarisse go anywhere without following her around like baby ducklings, making her explain to them that she's not going away from camp, she's just not going to teach them anymore.

At the end of the final class, just as everyone unveiled the 'we'll miss you' poster, she and Dennis revealed their 'I'm Staying' poster, causing a loud, thunderous cheer to erupt from all of you.

Later, you pulled her aside to give her your canvas painting.

Nerves wracked your body, your palms began to sweat.

When was the last time you had felt this nervous? It was probably your cello recital the day you had come to camp...

"Holy shit, Y/n this looks absolutely amazing!" Clarisse exclaimed, taking the painting in her hands.

She didn't miss the detail you had given her, drawing her angelically, despite her thinking she was the opposite. It was so well done that the brush strokes weren't even visible.

Please get the message, you blockheaded, oblivious fool...you thought.

Deciding to act against your nerves, you asked her in a shaky voice, "That's a painting of us on a date...would you like to go on one with me sometime?"

Clarisse's heart stopped. Had you just asked her out on a date?

She was at a loss for words, they didn't touch her tongue, nor did they pass her lips. She stood there, speechless, gaping at you for a moment too long.

"I mean, I get it, you're probably not even a les--" you began, but a pair of gentle lips on yours silenced your words.

Sparks flew, butterflies went haywire, your brain short-circuited. You didn't know what to doo, just stood there frozen with shock. Kissing the girl you had liked for the last few months now.

Clarisse, however, was ecstatic. Her mind was a burst of colour, her body was ablaze. She felt like she had wings, and her heart was taking her up, up, up.

Once she pulled away, she winked at your blushing face and dopey grin.

"It's a date, L/n."

hi, it's me! lea! i hope you enjoyed this long overdue oneshot <3 requests are open via dms or asks!

#clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue fluff #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue #x fem!reader #first request #requested #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #you got an artist inside you #fluff imagine

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finniestoncrane · 2 months

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Gotta be honest with you, I need to hear every single Digger headcanon you have because they 2 you've shared are just so good.

General Headcanons

KTJL!Boomer Headcanons yippee!!! woohoo!!! someone wants to listen to my bullshit!! i am so happy to write down more of my headcanons by the way, but for anyone wanting any make sure to let me know what you want the 💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: mentions of nsfw things, it's fuckin boomer so of course, there's a whole load of nsfw headcanons and i mention piss because duh

General Headcanons

this is a sort of universal belief i suppose but i do think he lives in his van and i will live and die by my faith. he likes having everything he needs with him at all times. he will spout some bullshit rhetoric about living a "buddhist" existence with few material goods. and he's half right in that he has two pairs of underwear, and a collection of empty (or maybe not completely empty) beer cans rattling around back there

he's passed out twice while getting tattoos and he will yell and scream and argue that it was because his blood sugar was super low and not because he's a total wuss

he smells amazing. not like... good, don't get me wrong i don't think he smells nice. BUT he smells fuckin great. he has a natural deep musk that just hits the receptors nicely, the kind of smell that's laden with all the right pheromones to engage your caveman brain and have you swooning over him

bad habits (which i count as a bonus tbh) include: picking things: ears, skin, nose, anything. drinking to excess and then never learning a single lesson. masking all of his emotions until he's certain you won't make fun of him for having feelings. pretending to hate people that he loves because he can't be seen getting hurt. leaving his clothes lying around and relying on the smell test to get him through the process of getting dressed. kissing you in the morning before he has brushed his teeth. having no concept of personal space: he will steal blankets, he will curl around you in bed, he will sit too close to you on the sofa, he will hang off your body, he will hug you from behind and not let go, he will stand beside you all the time. refusing to take things seriously until he really has no other option. bad temper, and then defusing the situation by kicking something

yes, he has great tits and strong arms, but in my heart of hearts i know his stomach is not flat and in my head he has the sweetest lil beer gut to ever exist. it gets worse once he's just finished eating or drinking, and he cradles it and makes jokes about it being a girl or a boy. and while they might not have added it into the game, they did add in his sweet lovehandles on those hips, and he likes being grabbed by them and pulled into a hug. reminds him that when he's no longer big buff boomer, you'll still be super into his hot body

i think he's 45 years old fuck you. i think youngest he's 40, there's no way he's near me in age. we can consider sun damage to an extent but he has wrinkles, he's a dad, he's got big ol bags under his eyes and a slightly receding hairline

he's competitive, but not in an aggressive way, more in an annoying way. like you play a board game with him, and he'll do everything in his power to distract you, or use the rules against you. and if he loses, he doesn't go in a big strop, maybe a tiny huff with a few whines. who can refuse him a pity win when he's looking up at you all sad with those big green eyes and batting those silly eyelashes?

if there is something about you that he can mercilessly tease you for (without making you cry) he will harp on about it constantly. it's his way of showing that he's comfortable around you, enough that he can make you want to punch him in the throat. he can give but he can't take though, so remember that before you point out that he is in fact ginger, or that his freckles make him look so cutie-patootie, or that his tattoos are kinda dumb

you have to laugh at his jokes and puns, it's a requirement and he'd be tempted to make you sign a contract saying you will adhere to this rule. it gives him a boost, makes him feel proud. plus he is genuinely very funny, and the dorky nature behind his silly jokes is so endearing

Relationship Headcanons

when he falls for someone, he falls first and he falls hard. he also falls pretty easily, and he's no stranger to heartbreak, but he has his terrible coping methods to keep him going

he finds it easy to find something about everyone that he likes, because he's just prone to liking people. he thinks everything and anything is sexy, and he can find your good traits like a pig sniffing out truffles

he regularly brings home gifts for his partner, stolen or otherwise. no one needs to know how you aquired such an expensive piece of jewellery or that really nice original looking bit of art. maybe you just happen to save a lot of money by living in the back of his van with him!!

gifts are just one of the ways he is surprisingly thoughtful for a boy with no thoughts behind his eyes! dates are another thing he's fuckin stellar at!! wherever you're going and whatever you're doing you are guaranteed to have fun, that's just how he is. he makes everything tolerable, and he can turn a shit day into a great one

he's desperate for friendship, far more than he is for anything romantic or sexual, although if the two could go hand in hand that'd be an ideal scenario. he might claim to be chill and looking for a quick root, but he's far more interested in finding a partner who can be his buddy as well as his lover

there's never going to be a moment when he's not touching his partner by the way, like that is just something you are going to have to put up with

hand on your shoulder, hand in your hand, hand on your waist, hand on your thigh, hand on your back, hands around you as he hugs you from behind, hands around you as he hugs you from the front, hands around you as he hugs you from the side, hand on your butt, hand on your chest, hand on your stomach, hand on your cheek. the man has borderline separation anxiety

holding hands is his favourite though, especially when paired with his habit of loudly announcing your status to anyone within earshot. "oh this is my partner!" "yeah i'm their boyfriend!" "i'm fucking that beautiful bit of arse over there, thanks for asking!" like thank you, digger

he's surprisingly emotional, and surprisingly open once you get past his protective exterior layer. he's still always joking around and trying not to take things seriously, but the minute you or he needs some serious feeling time he is down for it

i don't think he would ever choose a sexuality. personally, i feel like he's bisexual or pansexual, but digger would say he's just sexual. he'll go for anything with a pulse who was happy to see him. there's a bit of digger for anyone (or anything...)

he'd be quick to take things to the next level with a partner he really loved. like he comes to pick you up one day in the boomer-van and he's like "tah-dah" and in the bacl there's a plastic storage box duct taped to the wall with your name written on it. this is how he would ask you to move in with him. you might need to get rid of a lot of your posessions but he wouldn't be adverse to you cleaning up the van or making it your own though!! i bet he'd love to have fairylights on the ceiling and some rugs on the floor

NSFW Headcanons

he has a piss kink. i know that is not a thing for most people, but i have evidence backing this up. it's barely a headcanon at this point, it's just straight up fuckin canonical fact lmao!! anyway i don't think it's a goes both ways thing most of the time. he likes to be the one pissing, it's where he refuses to be a switch and will only be the dominant one, usually

speaking of being the dominant one, it's what he's most comfortable with since he's a loud, brash, bold and heroic villainous boy, but he really doesn't mind switching things up. he can be a gentle dom, a bratty sub, and any combination in between. really, he is up for literally any activity or kink or fetish or position you can throw at him

he gets very vocal during sex. he spouts all kind of filth at you, confirming what he's doing, what he wants to do, and what he's going to do to you. his preferred terms are surprisingly gentle though, calling you kitten or pup, princess or prince, love, babe, baby. a combination of them all. aside from that, he is loud. volume is not something he can control when he's deep in the heat of the moment and he is the literal definition of animalistic. he growls while he fucks you, and he howls when he cums, and he has referred to himself as a dingo before...

of course, if you're getting particualrly nasty, or he's in a far more feral mood, he'll be growling low into your ear, calling you a dirty, nasty little cunt while he grabs your body and keeps you close

he's into any kink, sort of believing in trying anything once (or twice... or three times...) but there's a few he just LOVES. ones that if you mention them, you run the risk of having him cumming in his pants or rutting up against your leg like a desperate, badly behaved puppy

obviously, previously mentioned piss kink, but specifically if it involves some level of servitude or worship. like you on your knees holding his cock for him while he goes to the toilet, you offering to lick him clean, or letting him piss on you because you're so beneath him and he's yours to mark and claim. begging for a taste of him or pleading for him to use you gets him going too when you combine it with this

body worship or worship in general gets him going too. he's so desperate to be loved and wanted and adored and needed, so having someone beg for him, tell him they want him, they need his cock, his fingers, his hands, his saliva, his drool, his cum, anything he's willing to give them. top that off by calling him captain and he'll melt into a sticky little puddle

he's also way behind on comfort, so a little bit of gentle love mixed with kink is a great way to help him relax. feed him a tit or a hard cock, let him suck until he's soothed himself. hold him on your lap and stroke his hair while you tell him he's amazing, and so good at everything he does

cowboy digger is reporting for duty at the breeding ranch! get you some horns, a teeny tiny cowprint outfit, a tail and a bell and he'll either milk you dry until you're crying from overstimulation, or he'll ride you until he's pumped every last bit of cum into you, making sure you're ready for him to be the daddy

he'll fuck with the hat on. he's a socks on kinda guy too. he just gets way too into it way too quickly and forgets anything else but rutting and grunting

this could have been soft, if it wasn't george, but he loves when you fall asleep on him, like your head resting on his chest or his stomach or his lap or his shoulder. he'll be sweet, of course, and place a little kiss on the top of your head. but then he will try and sneak a look down your top or at your ass or to see if you have a visible bulge he can ogle

#captain boomerang #digger harkness #george harkness #captain boomerang fanfic #finnie writes #captain boomerang headcanons #suicide squad: kill the justice league

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stars-and-darkness · 1 day

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20 questions for fic writers!

many many thanks to @garglyswoof for tagging m

How many works do you have on ao3? 63. i need to calm down.

What's your total ao3 word count? 747 502. i need to calm down.

What fandoms do you write for? the vampire diaries, shadow & bone, avatar: the last airbender, star wars, marvel. also, that one suez canal x ever given fic, and that one goncharov fic.

Top five fics by kudos: A Queen's Gamble (you know it's an old one if the title is capitalised lmao), make them bow., the fate makes for a lousy poet., where the heart moves the stones, nyctophilia.

Do you respond to comments? i try. i am not very good at it, but every now and then i sit down, crack my knuckles, and go about emptying my poor inbox.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? the end. is like ... the only fic i ever wrote that ended unhappily.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? see above, lol, literally everything else. i'm a wuss.

Do you get hate on fics? i mean ... not really? i would mostly classify the rude things i got as entitlement rather than hate. the impression i usually got was that those people liked my writing style, or the plot, or characterisation, or whatever--there was just one thing or several that they wanted to happen differently, and they felt the need to tell me that.

Do you write smut? looooooo, no, my ace ass would probably spontaneously combust.

Craziest crossover: i don't suppose i've ever written an actual crossover, but today i put dracula-the-historical-figure into the vampire diaries universe, so ....

Have you ever had a fic stolen? ... maybe? okay, strap yourselves: a few years ago someone asked if they could translate a fic of mine into spanish and post it on wattpad, and i said yes. (THIS is one of the reasons why i don't allow translations anywhere but ao3 anymore). they did, and they sent me the link. i linked the translation to my fic, the usual. then, a lot later, i actually went to check their post, and i realised that i wasn't credited though the person said they would. yaaaaay.

Have you ever had a fic translated? well, other than the fiasco up there, the incredible @winterandmistletoe, who made the edit that graces the beginning of make them bow., has two chapters of the russian translation of that fic up on ao3. there's also been an offer to translate The Manifesto of a Last Love into russian, but that one hasn't been posted yet.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? i have not! and honestly, i don't think i'd be very good at it. i'm a bit of a tyrant, so in an effort NOT to be perceived as such i'd probably be super lenient of whatever the other people came up with even if i didn't necessarily like it. i'm pretty particular in my tastes, and one of the things i love about writing fic is that i have nobody but myself to answer to.

All time favorite ship? ehhhhh, nooo, i can't choose between my children!

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? considering that tvd has had me in its claws for two years now, it feels unlikely i'll ever go back to my wips in other fandoms. you never know of course, but it feels that way. i mean. those unfinished wips don't exactly haunt me, but sometimes i remember them and feel awful about it, lmao.

What are your writing strengths? i'm told i do dialogue and humour well!

What are your writing weaknesses? ughhhhh probably action? it's so hard. oh! and my tendency to describe how a character's eyes look in every other sentence.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? SO fun fact that dracula fic that i posted today? the one where half the dialogue is in french? i had originally written it all IN FRENCH, and then decided to take mercy on my readers and just put the english translation into italics. yeah. anyway, rule of thumb, ig: if the pov character understands what's being said, then english in italics (or if it's just a sentence or two the spoken language with a footnote). if they can hear individual words, then the language that's being spoken, without translation. if they hear only gibberish--maybe they're super unfamiliar with the language, maybe it's being spoken very fast or with an accent--then just 'character x says something in z'.

First fandom you wrote in? marvel, for my own peace of mind. star wars is the first one i actually posted for.

Favorite fic you've written? again, you can't ask me to pick between my children.

tagging: @morningstargirl666 @kirythestitchwitch @helpless-in-sleep @marxandangels @purplesigebert @darkestgrays @averseunhinged

#tag game #ella originals

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fratboykate · 1 year

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I don’t know who I am more sad for. Ereka, Yelena, or poor chubby baby Wuss who just wants one of his mommies to hold him.

I’m sad for Kate, but for different reasons than the rest of them. She needs to gain some perspective for two minutes. I totally understand where she’s coming from, and like she must have the patience of a fucking SAINT because Tom would be on his ass if it were me, but she’s being so bullheaded in trying to protect Ri from future regret that she’s enabling present stress.

Either way, Ri is already going to have a little bit of trauma over all of this. And I think she’s just going to look back at Tom with resentment over the fact that he’s not ACTUALLY spending time with her. I mean, that we see at least, right?? Because in my mind he is just wasted off his ass 24/7. No amount of going over to my dads house asa child is going to make me less resentful toward him, dead or alive, if he’s so clearly choosing to use me as a pawn to get back at my mom or throw himself a putty party. Honestly not sure what Tom’s angle is anymore. Maybe he’s just fucking sad but like damn.

Yelena sure isn’t helping any of this but goddammit does she love that child. And hate Tom, but honestly she is so real and valid for that. I am probably the saddest for her in this specific moment because oh my god…how heartbreaking. She absolutely hasn’t been respected or prioritized in any of this, and Kate needs to understand how shitty she’s making her wife feel!!!!!! And for what!? Because it doesn’t really feel like it’s for Ri right now. It feels like she’s telling herself it’s for Ri but it’s at least partially coming from a place of projection and her own wishes and regrets.

You wound me. I’m also whipped for all this emotional damage you’re inflicting.

Also all this passive aggressive “she’s YOUR child”!?!? STOP IT MY HEART HURTS. Some of us don’t like eating nails for breakfast!!

"she’s being so bullheaded in trying to protect Ri from future regret that she’s enabling present stress" AND "it doesn’t really feel like it’s for Ri right now. It feels like she’s telling herself it’s for Ri but it’s at least partially coming from a place of projection and her own wishes and regrets" DING DING DING DING you found the daddy issues she's been hiding lol

once again, it's all about whose perspective you look at it from and one of my favorite things in character work is making characters who GENUINELY believe theyre doing the right thing and you could actually argue that they ARE correct...BUT when you take a step back and see it from a different angle they're also very wrong. i think that's obviously a great recipe for villains but you can also write really interesting flawed heroes that way.

clarke in CFAU is a great example of this. kate in MAU is another. i dont think either of them were ever wrong but they're not right either and i think that's what makes them and their struggles compelling.

i mean...ri does spend time with him and his family. they're a big, loud, tight-knit family (of drunks but...still lol). tom lives with his mom since him and kate got divorced (because he's absolutely one of those coddled momma's boy. part of the problem) and the entire family is always over at the matriarchs house so she DOES spend tiem with these people who - again, in their very flawed way - do love her and consider her an important part of the family. they're all just fucked up.

#kymau #anonymous #answers

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infinite-ticking-clock37 · 5 months

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Youre literally so cool like i wanna talk to you more but im scared to ;-;

not like scared of you specifically but like talking to you cause i am HORRID at talking to people

Anyways to get away from the fact im a total wuss, heres a question!! Do you like lizards? If so, what kind of lizards?

Aw thanks! and dw, I understand, I have A LOT of social anxiety and I suck with interactions and overthink too much, so I understand the struggle =]

And for the question, I don't really know much about lizards but they are so cute, reptiles in general are cool actually! I would get a lizard myself but I have cats (a lot of cats) and I don't wanna live in constant fear of my lizard being eaten, lizards are adorable and silly little fellas I think, thanks for the question =]

#infinite #infinite answers

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martianbugsbunny · 1 year

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OUAT Thoughts Pt.60--Episodes 10-13

I have watched through S6E13; spoilers DNI. Also, spoiler warning for anyone further behind than I am.

I had the chance to watch two extra episodes today (even though there were real-life things I probably *should’ve* been doing). It was a pretty good day.

—David and Snow look so stately as monarchs. I love how elaborate their clothes are. And all the jewelry.

—Once again, I’ve been made sad about what the Charmings could’ve had. Their life where they got to raise Emma would’ve been really good for them. But—you know, curse aside—the life they got turned out pretty great.

—I love that Pinocchio is where Emma got her last name from. I honestly never wondered where she got her name, although I probably should have, but this is the coolest possible option.

—Princess Emma was a huge wuss. I can hardly believe there was a version of her that wasn’t tough. But I also kind of enjoyed that in the alternate reality, she was more reliant on her parents. Them having a closer relationship was probably the best part of that entire mess.

—I love that when she was out picking flowers, Emma was singing the song from the original Snow White animated movie.

—Actually, wuss though she may have been, Princess Emma was adorable. I’m in love.

—Actually, Episode 10 reminded me that if I didn’t love Hook to the moon and back, I would totally chill with Emma x Regina. They have the reluctant co-parents to friends thing, and their personalities are a pretty decent match. Also the aesthetic is impeccable.

—I really like what’s happening with Rumple and Belle recently. They’ve gone from fighting and constantly misunderstanding each other and both taking things too far, to being two very broken people who are trying to do the best they can for their wayward son. I think that dynamic works for them now, because they’ve had a lot of marital issues and while Rumple is incredibly troubled, Belle also has some *stuff* and actually showing their brokenness is exactly what they and their relationship need. You know me, I’m a sucker for the raw stuff.

—So lemme get this straight. Gideon lived through twenty-eight years of being raised by the Black Fairy and not didn’t choose to be evil, but now that he’s out of her realm he wants to kill the savior? His logic is absolute bogus, man.

—It’s cool that Pinocchio and Emma were friends in the alternate reality. They’re kinda my BROTP for the show. I want Pinocchio to be like the cool, sage older brother she never had. I also want them to get into trouble together, like racing his motorcycle vs her yellow bug down the main road of town.

—Regina’s feathery red cape was cool.

—I feel bad for Regina. I bet it was hard for her to go back to acting like the Evil Queen after she tried so hard to put all of that behind her.

—Once again, I’m loving the fact that people are going to see Archie. They all need some therapy, tbh, and having the heroes go talk to someone about their problems is the best.

—Rumple (secretly) giving David’s father help finding James without asking him to pay was cool. That’s the kind of extra dimension he suits best.

—Actually, I think Episode 11 was brilliant. The stuff with David’s father I wasn’t a huge fan of only because the Pleasure Island freaks me out, but the emotional connection between David and Hook was beautiful. And seeing David first become seriously unhinged and then come back from the brink was amazing. (Although, I kind of wish he had killed King George, because that guy was a right arse and he would’ve deserve death. As you can see, I would be more of a Rumple than a Hook in the OUAT world.) I think Episode 11 is one of my favorite episodes in a while.

—Lol speaking of Pleasure Island, my mom asked if that was from the original Pinocchio story, and my answer was ‘Idk, but they did this in Kingdom Hearts, so probably.’ If it’s not in the original fairytale, then for sure it must’ve been in the animated Disney version?

—What Rumple did for his sons was such a twisted kind of sacrifice. I really love the trope where the person who’s already gone dark does the dark thing the clean soul needs done to protect them. I explained it terribly just there, but it’s stunning. Of course, it doesn’t work so well when either the two people aren’t connected enough for it to matter, or if the soul we’re supposed to believe is clean has disproven that theory by their past actions (looking at Snape and Draco over here) but for Rumple and his sons? HELL. YES. He’s lived the darkness—heck, with Bae he’d barely even touched it and he already knew he wanted better for his kid. Also, the way Belle responded was perfect. She didn’t get mad about the fact that Rumple had drained the Blue Fairy, or that he had helped Gideon get closer to his goals. She understood why, and she also grasped the peculiar nobility of it.

—Gideon looks like a big ol doofus walking around Storybrooke in that robe.

—How big a deal is this whole ‘Hook-killed-David’s-dad’ thing gonna be? Because now that he and Emma are engaged, I really don’t want anything to derail their happiness.

—Leave it to a pirate to pick out a gorgeous ring.

—I can’t decide whether bad Robin and the Evil Queen getting together is better or worse than what I expected to happen—Zelena and bad Robin getting together. Either way it’s not good.

#once upon a time #ouat #prince David charming #Snow White #pinocchio #Emma swan #princess Emma #rumplestiltskin #belle #Gideon #regina mills #the evil queen #Captain Hook #Robin Hood #Emma x regina #martianbugsbunny reviews

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monstermaster13 · 9 months

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Stephanie Gets Juiced.

Betelgeuse (Beetlejuice) FTM TG

William was a natural practical joker and comedian, always pulling tricks and pranks on his older sibling Stephanie…he very much couldn’t stand how uptight Stephanie was and wished she could just chill and learn to have fun every once in a while, but Stephanie hated him for trying to get her to do such things, she hated his pranks, she hated his jokes, she never found his jokes to be funny in the slightest and she had a feeling that he was out to harm her.

Stephanie and William lived with their parents Timothy and Helena, and they were often visited by their relatives Edgar, Vincent, Peter, Edward, Kim, and Ichabod. Timothy and Helena were an eccentric couple that had all sorts of weird knick-knacks in their house, any movie prop that was from a movie they watched they owned a copy of and almost all over the house. One prop that Timothy was especially proud of was the sandworm from the movie ‘Beetlejuice’ which he kept near his night-stand and treated it like it was a family pet.

One night Stephanie got the fright of her life when William tricked her into picking up a magazine, basically William swapped out the contents of her usual fashion magazine with that of a gory Tales From The Crypt style comic and she didn’t like blood or gore, horror anything terrified her, she was a bit of a wuss like that. She screamed and shouted…’Mom! William swapped out my usual magazines for gory horror comics.’ ‘Oh you know he’s just being mischievous.’ ‘Mischievous? Mischievous? He put live maggots in my cereal yesterday morning, he put on undead makeup and pretended he was Donovan from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade to scare me into thinking that’s what i’ll look like when i’m old, he stole some of dad’s hair clippings and stuck them on my hands and told me I was turning into a werewolf, need I go on?’

‘Your brother just likes to play pranks.’ ‘He has gone too far this time.’ William laughed as he saw his sister having a hissy fit…’You just need to chill, sis. Besides, it’s just good fun, you’re so easy to fool, such an easy patsy for my pranks.’ ‘One of these days William you are going to end up behind bars if you don’t stop being naughty.’ ‘Me? Behind bars? For doing pranks? Hardly, it’s not illegal to pull pranks and have fun. You’re such a Delia, you know that, right?’ ‘Mom, William is comparing me to Delia Deitz again!’

Stephanie hated being compared to Delia, she hated the fact she was compared to her despite the fact she was actually quite similar to her. ‘But it’s true, you totally are like her. You even dress like her and you have your own Otho.’ ‘If you are talking about Richard, he’s not my Otho.’ ‘Oh yes, he is, he is totally the Otho to your Delia.’

Her lackey/best friend who always followed her and also helped her with her ‘projects’, was named Richard, Richard was a man who very much resembled Otho himself, and had a similar fashion sense, he often acted like he was smarter than everyone else but he knew that he wasn’t. ‘I swear this family is so weird sometimes.’ ‘Weird? Whatever do you mean?’ ‘Well all the movie props for one thing, and dad treats a sandworm prop like it’s a pet. And well..I don’t think me and William are related.’ ‘How?’ ‘I feel like William belongs to another family and not this one.’

William couldn’t resist thinking of another brilliant prank to pull, as he saw there was a model city that Timothy had built and there was a model graveyard of sorts with a tombstone with the name ‘Betelgeuse’ on it and he turned to Stephanie and said…’Hey Steph, I dare you to read the name on this tombstone.’ ‘Oh no I am not falling for another one of your jokes.’ ‘It’s no joke, go on, give it a go.’ ‘Oh alright, but only if you promise to not pull any more pranks.’

“I promise.”

‘Very well then..Betelgeuse.’ ‘Say it again.’ ‘Betelgeuse.’ ‘Good, one more time please.’ ‘Betelgeuse!’ Stephanie let out a piercing scream as a spirit emerged from the model and began to float around her, teasing her, mocking her. ‘Hahaha! It’s showtime! Hello there, what do we have here?’ The spirit was definitely Betelgeuse himself, and he took delight in making fun of Stephanie and her outfits, which annoyed her, she lunged at him and attempted to attack him only for the ghost with the most to smirk at her.

“Oooh, this is going to be fun.”

‘I see you have met my sister.’ ‘That’s your sister?’ ‘Unfortunately, yes.’ The wisecracking specter laughed as he examined her, making wisecracks and jokes that Stephanie definitely did not find funny in the slightest. ‘The last time I saw an outfit with that much feathers on it I was in Las Vegas!’

Stephanie couldn’t take being made fun of by him and she attempted to get rid of him by trying to say his name again, only for him to make her go mute with his supernatural powers. ‘I gotta be honest here, I agree with your brother, you definitely have no chill.’ He quipped, as Stephanie’s body temperature began to freeze up and her skin slowly turned white and she found herself turning into a living snow-woman.

Betelgeuse couldn’t help but laugh, this was fun for him and he definitely loved Wlliam, a man after his own heart. He thought of something that would be even more fun, as he took on a transparent form and then dove into Stephanie’s mouth, and entered her body, possessing her in the process.

Her stomach gurgled and she felt like she was going to be sick as her skin slowly became paler, looking almost ghostly white as her hands enlarged, her nails were turning a black color and also her skin was definitely looking a bit dirtier as her chest and torso bulked up a bit as di her stomach, her breasts retracted into her chest and she let out a loud terrified scream. In addition to this her hips retracted while her feet enlarged.

Her outfit was also slowly changing, changing to look like the ghost with the most’s iconic suit and her privates altered to become more masculine while she found herself growing a little bit, while her neckline contorted and her brown hair slowly turned a dirty blondish color and a bit of it even fell out at the top while it became more wild-looking in general, her eyebrows thickened as dark circles formed around her eyes, making it look like she was either really tired or was going through a raccoon lookalike phase.

Her features slowly altered, as her teeth became dirtier looking while stubble grew on her face, her facial features slowly morphing into his and her voice followed suit, changing to sound exactly like the ghost with the most himself, making her sound like Michael Keaton, she couldn’t believe it…she had been possessed and taken over by Betelgeuse. ‘You are in so much trouble for this.’ ‘I don’t think so, sis.’ ‘What?’ ‘I think mom and dad are going to think this is hilarious, I mean you look and sound like my favorite Tim Burton character.’

Stephanie grumbled, not liking the idea of being Betelgeuse, but she eventually warmed up to i, realizing that it wasn’t so bad being him and that she could use her newfound powers to finally relax and have fun. She realized that maybe it was her who was the weird one the entire time and that she was born to be weird, and that is when she decided to make a promise.

She promised to herself that from then on, she wouldn’t be so uptight and promised to be a bit perkier and happier, she definitely felt much better about being in such a weird family because she had finally fit in now.

#monstermaster13 #Beetlejuice #ftm tg

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gumnut-logic · 2 years

Text

Tracy elves

This one is a reblog, but it is a reblog of a fic I think I forgot to archive, so it hasn’t been seen for a year. I was reminded of it by dressing up Virg as an elf over on @vgtracy so thought I would throw it up here and maybe finally remember to archive the thing :D

It should be noted that I am so far behind in archiving I think I need to hire a professional nagger to get me to put fic up on Ao3.

-o-o-o-

“I don’t see why I can’t have a shirt.”

“You look the part, Virg. Relax.”

“What part? I have no idea what an elf would be doing with an axe. And you certainly can’t talk. You’re used to appearing in front of people mostly naked.”

Gordon straightened and grinned...which made him look all the more ridiculous in the green felt hat. “I have nothing to hide.” If it wasn’t for all the glitter, he may have actually looked...no, there was no saving that outfit even though it did have a spangly green shirt along with its red suspenders. Gordon must have sensed his thoughts because the grin turned to a glare. “You’re the Christmas Tree elf. You get to go get the Christmas trees with your trusty, glittery axe.”

“Doesn’t sound very ecologically sound.”

“You’re an elf, Virg. Use your pixie dust.”

“Can I pixie dust myself a shirt?”

Gordon rolled his eyes. “You look great. Every girl and every guy is going to be appreciating those heavy lifting muscles of yours and then they are going to donate a pile of money to the hospital.”

“They can have my money.”

“Virg-“

“You guys ready yet?” Scott stuck his head into the dressing room. His hat had a blue bauble on top that jingled when he moved.

Virgil glared at him. Apparently the eldest got to be Santa’s sleigh pilot. A job that conveniently also came with a shirt.

“I still don’t have a shirt and I don’t think these suspenders quite cover up enough.” He pulled at those suspenders and let them go for emphasis...

The elastic sprung back and slapped both his bare nipples. Oh, god. Ow.

Gordon cracked up laughing.

Scott seemed to be suffering some kind of strain.

“Are you boys ready?” Santa, aka Dad, nudged Scott aside and stuck his white-beaded head into the room. “What are you doing, Gordon? It’s about to start. We’re waiting.”

Gordon immediately sobered. “Don’t look at me. Virg is being a wuss.”

White-browed grey eyes fixated on Virgil. “It’s for a good cause.”

Virgil wilted. “I know, Dad. I just feel silly.”

“You don’t look silly. All I see is a healthy young man willing to give his time for an excellent cause, something I know you have made your life’s work, in fact.”

Virgil groaned internally. Dad knew exactly what to say. A side glance at Scott, expecting a smirk, but he only found a soft smile.

Only family.

Damnit.

“Okay, fine.”

Santa grinned. “That’s my boy.”

Virgil glared at him as he picked up the axe. Purple glitter, really?

His dad and Scott ushered him through the doors and to the motorised float, his father’s cane clicking on the concrete floor. John was already on board, standing next to Santa’s sleigh on a random rooftop, his outfit as decently concealing as the rest. He sported a gold bauble on his hat and a huge long list with names and tick boxes.

Alan, as the smallest, got to ride in the back of the sleigh on top of all the fake presents. Totally laid back in a decadent slouch, his hat curled almost down to his chin with a red bauble on its end. Alan’s face was more grin than anything else. He was thoroughly excited.

Scott ushered Virgil onto to his posing spot on the opposite side from John before joining their father in the driver’s seat. John was on the other side, and Gordon clambered up next to the head reindeer, yellow bauble bouncing - apparently, he was head reindeer manager.

“Are you ready, Mr Tracy?” The pageant hand was obviously addressing their father, but the rest of the boys were hard put not to turn in their direction.

“Ready to go, Henry.” Their father was smiling almost as much as Alan was grinning. Ever since the request for the Tracys to appear as Santa and his helpers in the pageant, the man had been bouncing enough to lose his cane.

One of the reasons Virgil had acquiesced to do this was to keep an eye on his dad and make sure he didn’t overdo it. Come to think of it, that was probably why Scott was in the driver’s seat.

With a shirt on.

Thank god they were in Aotearoa. The thought of going shirtless in New York or Chicago - whacking himself with his suspenders would be the least of his problems.

Sunscreen at Christmas just seemed wrong.

“On my count, Mr Tracy.” The man held up his hand as he spoke into his headset. Scott perked up and started the float’s hoversystems. A hiss and the sleigh and its rooftop platform floated gently up.

Virgil swung his axe onto one shoulder and tightened his waistline just a little. Didn’t hurt to look his best...well, as best he could in this stupid costume.

For the kids.

For the hospital.

Let’s do this.

A wave from the pageant hand and Scott moved them out into the sun.

And the crowd roared.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #nuttyfic reblog

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stellaluna33 · 2 years

Note

your take on the rory/jess first kiss and her going to DC and not saying anything to him all summer is very interesting and while you didn’t ask for my opinion, I just wanted to reply to that. it gave me a lot to think about, and I don’t totally agree that it all lessened jess’ respect for rory (if that’s what you meant) but it absolutely broke some trust there. but trust in the sense that it made him never entirely sure whether she was really sold on the two of them. I don’t think he was as bent out of shape about the fact that she kissed him while she was with dean as he could’ve been, I doubt he liked it but I feel like his anger was more about the fact that she got his hopes up and now he just can’t really tell what she wants. maybe part of him thinks that SHE doesn’t know what she wants, when in reality she does, she’s just too afraid to admit it. I feel like at first anyway around 3x02 jess might’ve had an inkling that rory was into him and was just not accepting that—her jealousy of him and shane and her staying with dean pointing towards that—but as time went on he started to believe that maybe he was just a passing interest for her. again, you didn’t ask and I am so sorry for the rambling, but I enjoy discussing these things with you!!

No no, I enjoy discussing these things with you too! And everything you said here, yeah, I definitely agree that's a big part of it too. And I don't think he was really upset that she kissed him before breaking up with Dean (he certainly didn't object!) as much as he just thought that she WOULD. For a long time it's struck me how Jess talks about Dean in S3, especially in relation to himself, that he sees Dean derisively as someone who lets himself get taken advantage of, and by Rory in particular. Jess isn't going to "sit around and wait" for her "like Dean would have done," he's "not gonna be a wuss like Dean," and he isn't talking about "not being like Dean" in the sense that we'd like him to (like not being jealous and controlling), but in the sense that he's implying that Dean's "niceness" left him vulnerable to poor treatment. Which implies that Jess thought that Rory had treated Dean poorly, which is... REALLY interesting, and I'm honestly not entirely sure what to make of it. My earlier post was a potential theory trying to make sense of that, because I don't remember him talking like that in Season 2. I don't know, maybe they just meant Jess to be a jerk who takes an adversarial view of relationships. That's possible. But either way, it comes down to the fact that, by the beginning of Season 3, Jess doesn't trust Rory and it's a question of when and why that happened.

#Gilmore Girls #Literati #Jess Mariano

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heyheydidjaknow · 3 years

Text

It is 6 am. I know that it reads like I’ve never heard of pacing. Trust me, I’m aware. Quite frankly, I am entirely too tired to care. It might not even be as bad as I think it is. It’s possible, I guess, but not likely, I don’t think. I don’t have proofreaders, and it’s probably too edgy or too soon for more edge but you’re along for my ride and I’m sorry. I’ll probably rewrite it at some point, but right now I’m happy I’m even awake right now to post it. My eyes hurt and I'm a little queasy but we are powering through. Having said that, let's torture some fucking teenagers.

Chapter 12

Donatello stares at the small knife intensely.

It is an incredibly boring-looking one. Knowing as little as he does about culinary arts, he does not know the exact use of it, its size and shape giving him very little insight into its use in that environment. He is willing to make an educated guess and assume the blade itself is made of carbon steel, which is not exactly a strange choice for a knife in his opinion. It is not a combat or survival knife. It is hardly sturdy enough to last long in a combat setting. He is tempted to call Mikey to ask him to identify it for a second but thinks better of it.

After all, it fell out of your pocket. Questions would be asked.

He picks it up off the floor, weighing it in his hand. ‘This is a kitchen knife, right?’ He picks your jacket off the floor, folding it neatly and placing it on the back of a chair. ‘Why would she carry around a kitchen knife?’ He rests his head on his arms, holding the offending tool in front of his eyes, continuing to analyze it. ‘To fight? She knows carrying around a knife like this with no combat experience is a bad idea, right? Don’t people usually use pepper spray or something when they want to defend themselves?’

An image flashes into his head. You, standing alone in an alley, pointing this poor excuse of a weapon at a member of The Foot or the Purple Dragon. You, falling back and hitting your head and bleeding out with a knife sticking in your side because you fell on it wrong—‘It’s not even in a sheathe’—and trying to crawl back out into the street, begging to god not to—

He blinks, noticing his knuckles going pale around the handle, mouth weirdly dry.

He swallows. He forces his grip to loosen. ‘That’s dramatic.’ He gets up, slipping the knife back into the pocket of your jacket, hoping he put it in the right one. ‘She’s fine. She’s probably just scared after everything that’s happened. It won’t come to that.’

He sets back down, picking the last gas mask up and turning it over in his hands to give him something to do. He will not have time to properly test whether it works exactly as planned, but he is fairly certain that it and its brothers should allow them to breathe with little difficulty when they need to go into the TCRI building through the elevator shaft. If that is the plan they go with, anyways-- he had elected to stay out of the planning party, seeing as creating explosives strong enough to destroy the portal is enough of a challenge on its own, and he has faith in you and his eldest brother to come up with a good course of action. You guys always did. Bradford was dead after all, a fact that he had been informed made their lives considerably easier. In your words, “Mousers are the fucking worst, and if Bradford had gone off and recruited Stockman, we would have to deal with all of that way sooner.” You had quickly admitted that you did not know how long the peace would last, but you seemed pretty satisfied by the way things were happening overall, despite his accidentally causing the power cell to be stolen—“We’ll have the whole thing under control after this mission, don’t you worry.”

You had also claimed that you had the staking out of Shredder’s lair under control, but that is neither here nor there.

The door to his lab slides open. “Donnie,” you call, “we need to go over the game plan. How’re the explosives coming?”

‘Why is there a knife in your pocket instead of a taser?’ “Theoretically? Well.” He shrugs, getting to his feet. “I can’t really test if they work, but they’re good to go, probably.”

You smile teasingly. “They’re not gonna go off randomly?”

“Probably not.”

“Probably?” Your smile widens.

“No promises.”

“Well,” you grin, “I sure hope they’re good explosives in that case; wouldn’t wanna almost bleed out again.”

His stomach churns. “For sure,” he agrees, crossing the room as you start to “walk” back to the war room/kitchen. “Have you guys decided on anything?”

“Well,” you sigh, “Leo’s bein’ Leo if that’s what you mean. I don’t mind their plan, mind, but it seems a bit silly.” You hold the door open for him. “After you.”

“Dude, totally.” Mikey nods eagerly in agreement to something someone said. “I can get him on board, on prob.”

“Good.” Leonardo taps his finger against the blueprint splayed across the counter. “Now all we need is a big enough box.”

“There should be crates down by the docks.” Raphael looks over at you. “Any stores up top sell ‘em that big?”

“Probably.” You lean against the doorway as Donnie steps past you. “You guys know we don’t know what they’re breathing, right?”

“Yeah. So?” The green-eyed brother gestures to him. “He can figure out letting us breathe.”

“Can and did, but I’m not sure that’s what she’s talking about.” The tall boy crosses his arms across his chest absentmindedly. “If the gases they’re breathing are highly flammable—which, knowing the absurd biology of the Kraang, isn’t out of the question—” You stifle a laugh, covering your mouth, “using explosives in there might blow the roof off the place.”

“That’s good, ain’t it?”

“Not If you don’t want to be pressure cooked, no.”

“Is there some other way to destroy the portal?” Leonardo laced his fingers together, leaning his elbows on the worn island.

“Without knowing the metal they’re using?” He shakes his head. “Even if we did, I’m not sure if I could safely create hydrochloric or nitric acid, especially on such short notice, let alone transport it.”

“Then we’re screwed.” Raph looks off. “Perfect.”

“Unless you feel confident in busting out of that building on a time crunch, we’d need someone to be close enough to the bomb to actually use the detonator. Seeing as we need all hands on deck, we really don’t have anyone that could fit the bill.” Even with his back to you, you notice his tension. “Unless you guys just want to crack a window or something, but that would kinda negate the point of doing the whole stealth thing, setting off an obvious alarm.”

“That’s not true.” Mikey points out the obvious. “Y/N could do it.”

“I’m down,” you shrug, moving your hands to slide in your nonexistent pockets. “You’d need to let me know when to do it so I don’t fry you guys, but I might as well add domestic terrorism to my non-existent rap sheet.” You smile wryly at that.

You think you hear Donnie mutter something before speaking up. “I’m not sure there are any buildings high enough up or close enough to be an effective--”

“Sure there is.” Mikey, again. “There’s that apartment building across that alley. It’s plenty tall.”

“Oh yeah, huh?” Raph smiles sharply. “Even has a fire escape to climb.”

The idea of climbing anything anywhere makes you want to vomit, but the idea of having to deal with whatever goes on with the saving of Leatherhead later is enough to ignore it. ‘Stop being a pussy,’ you reprimand yourself, feeling vertigo already. ‘It’s a fucking ladder. A twenty-story high ladder, yeah, but it's still just a ladder.’

“She can’t use a ladder,” the tallest brother protests. “She can’t use one of her legs.”

“Then she can take the stairs, or we can carry her there before we go.” You take slow, deep, quiet breaths. “It’s no big deal. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind doing it, right?”

You are suddenly incredibly grateful that you are leaning against a doorframe. The idea of being carried over buildings, twenty stories into the air, makes the ground sway underneath you. You subtly dig your fingernails into the walls on impulse, trying to slowly relieve the pressure.

“It’s not about—What are you even talking about?” You barely register his bashful embarrassment, swallowing thickly. “I’m just saying…”

You can barely hear them, shutting your eyes as you feel sticky, warm blood on your fingertips, dripping down in between your digits. You wipe the phantom liquid off on your jeans quickly, thoroughly, opening your eyes to see what you register as the other three ragging on Donnie about something you do not catch. You lock your knees to keep them from shaking as bad as your hands, ignoring the nausea and staring straight ahead. ‘Your folks didn’t raise a wuss. Your hands aren’t wet. Snap out of it.’

You force yourself to focus on counting threads in your sleeves. You get to thirty-five before you feel someone shaking your shoulder.

“Dude, you alright?” Mikey was waving a hand in front of your face, having apparently crossed the room from his seat on the counter. “Hello?”

Your eyes snap up from your wrist to look at him. “Hm? Yeah, totally.” You nod. “Just zoned out is all.”

He put the back of his hand to your forehead as if he knew what he was looking for. “You sure? You look sick.”

You nod again. “Just didn’t sleep well last night. I’m fine.”

“Do you plan on zoning out during the mission?” Raphael smirked. “Don—”

“No,” you cut him off sharply. “I’ll be fine. When are you guys going?”

“A couple of hours.” Donnie is staring holes into you. “The hours listed online say actual people work until then, but the actual building is open for another few hours, so by the time we get far enough down to hopefully not feel the effects of the blast, we won’t have to worry about witnesses or people getting caught up in it.”

“Awesome.” You start out the door, using the walls to limp back to the lab. “Meetcha back here in an hour.”

He runs after you. “Need me to come with you? I can help pick a crate out.” The way his words spill out is not lost on you. “O-or I could drive you there if you want—it’s bad to walk around so much on your leg, especially at night.”

“If you don’t mind vomit in your party-wagon, sure.” You slip through the gap in the door, grabbing your jacket and pulling it on. “Honestly, Donnie, I’m fine.”

“But—”

“I walk home all the time.” You use the chair to roll over to your walker, snapping it open and getting to your feet. “I’m just going to go to a hardware store, buy a couple of the largest boxes they have, grab some dinner, and come back. Besides, you have to worry about getting in, right? I’ll be fine, really.”

He wants to argue. He does not.

“Text me if you need anything while I’m out.” You maneuver past him with a bit of difficulty. “Want me to pick up some pizza while I’m out?”

“… yeah.” He nods, shaking off the feeling sinking into his gut with a bit of difficulty. “If you want some, you’ll have to eat it on your own, though.”

You smile back at him. “I’ll get something else to eat,” you roll your eyes, voice oozing with honey seemingly unintentionally. “Don’t you worry too hard about me, now; your brothers give you a hard enough time as is.”

“Don’t get yourself killed and I’ll think about it,” he jokes, mostly serious.

You laugh. “I’ll try, Dad.”

He has never noticed how loud you walk until today. Maybe it is just that it is unusually loud in comparison to him and his brothers, or maybe it is the sound of it knocking around the concrete walls of the lair bouncing the sound off the walls, but he cannot help but notice it, how easily he can identify where you are just by listening. How has he never noticed that? ‘You could hear her down the street, walking past. Anyone with ears could tell where she is, no problem.’

He feels himself grip onto the door to keep himself from running after you and insisting he come with you. ‘If someone can hear her walking down the street, someone can hear her scream. They’ll call someone. Who would leave a teenage girl to get attacked?’ He does not answer his question.

He shuts the door. ‘And she has a point. I still need to figure out how to get us into TCRI without the cameras catching us.’ He sits back at his workstation to think. ‘It doesn’t have to be too advanced. A remote-controlled dolly wouldn’t take much time to build, and I have the code already.’

It is not an effective distraction, but it is enough to preoccupy him for a solid half an hour.

You are back at the time you say you are going to be back. The trip did not take you long, although carrying the boxes and food was an unforeseen challenge, and you bought yourself a burrito and soda, so all is well. You and the guys eat in the kitchen, you do not have another episode and, all in all, you almost forget about the fact you will have to be carried up a twenty-story building.

Standing and staring up at the building they had ended up next to is an easy reminder.

You swallow your dinner back, mouth dry. ‘Commit.’ You fold your walker up, hiding it behind a dumpster and hooking your arms around Donnie’s neck before you can chicken out, shutting your eyes tight, the humming of their van—you had walked—doing nothing to ease your nerves. You hear the others say something before the engine roars back to life, the tires squealing against the asphalt as they drive off.

“I’m not going to drop you,” he promises, barely noticing the extra weight as he hooks one of his arms under your thigh to pull your body flush against his. Your legs immediately tighten into a vice-like grip around his middle, pulling him even closer.

“Fucking better not.” He starts to scale the building with a bit of difficulty, with one arm otherwise preoccupied. “I’ll haunt your ass.”

He smiles at that. He jumps up, grabbing onto the railing of a fire escape and earning a squeak of terror and a quiet string of obscenities from you. He takes longer than usual out of necessity but finds a quiet joy in how hard you cling to him, swallowing laughs drawn out by your swears—his personal favorite is, “Oh fuck me Mother Mary!” which is a result of him overshooting the railing, resulting in both of you violently swinging back and forth for a time.

“Are we on solid ground?” Your voice is pleading.

“We’re on the roof, yeah.”

You let go, sliding down to your knees and lacing your fingers together behind your neck, breathing for the first time in the eternity—two minutes—it had taken to get there. You want to cry, your heart pounding out of your chest as you try to catch your breath.

“Are you okay?”

You nod once, shifting back and putting your head between your knees to regain your head.

‘Did I do something wrong?’ He crouched down in front of you, concerned. “You sure?”

You nod again.

“Are you being honest?”

“I will be in a sec,” you snap shakily.

He backs off, staying in that position.

You give yourself a count of fifteen before looking back up at him. “I’m good.” You take a deep breath, pulling yourself into him again. “Let’s do this shit before I’m not.”

The journey over is painfully silent, other than your guys’ breathing. Balance is the only real problem throughout. Holding you and making sure not to crush you makes the normal measures he would normally use to soften his falls impossible, meaning his jumps cannot be as high or far as normal—the last thing you need on top of everything else is a concussion. The trip might have been rendered shorter had it not been for the need for the Kraang to know nothing of their whereabouts, but he does not think it is too long until he moves to let go of you.

You do not let go of him.

“Y/N?”

Nothing.

“Y/N,” he says again, “we’re here.”

You do not move to let go of you, your heartbeat thundering against his chest.

“I’m going to set you down.” He unhooks your legs, lowering himself and setting you on the floor. “See?” He unlatches your arms, gently pulling you away from him.

Your face is white as a sheet, mind only barely registering the fact you were on solid ground. He would be concerned you were dead had it not been your incredibly fast pulse. You stared straight ahead, eyes unfocused.

You blink, pushing the hair out of your face as you get to your feet. “Sorry,” you mumble. “Zoned out. Tired.”

He hesitantly gives you the detonator. “Alright,” he relents. “You know the plan, right? You remember it still?”

“I’m scared, not dumb.” Your face flushes. “Sorry. That was mean.”

He blinks, confused. “It’s fine,” he shrugs. “Lack of sleep can cause irritability, especially in teenagers.” His voice is soft despite his own anxiety about the whole plan. He hands you your phone. “I’ll come back to pick you up. If I don’t in two hours, text me. If I don’t respond…” he trails off.

Your stomach drops. “You will,” you assure him firmly. “I know you will.”

“If I don’t,” he nods in agreement, if only for your sake, “hell will’ve frozen over anyway.”

You chuckle nervously at that. You reach over, cupping his face in your hands. “Seriously, though,” you make him look at you properly, “kick their asses for me.”

He smiles, his face heating up under your hands. “You got it.” He gets up. “See ya, then.” He smiles tipsily, waves, and runs off.

You watch him bound rooftops, grateful he had seemingly not noticed the violent shaking of your hands as you set the electronics down. You swallow again, dragging yourself and leaning your back against the ledge, crossing your legs in front of you. You lean over, placing the detonator down next to you carefully and picking your phone up. You shakily input the passcode, turn the volume as low as it would go, and press the speaker to your ear, sinking into a song with a slow exhale of breath. While you had refused yourself any illicit substances for the same reason you had gotten rid of your sleeping pills, you saw no issue with relying on music for some stress relief, the familiarity of the slower song letting your heartbeat match its rhythm.

You reach down, pulling your pant leg up and carefully peeling the tape from your good leg, wrapping your fingers around the handle of the paring knife and holding it at your side. Sure, you know, logically, it would do little but hinder you in a fight, but you felt as though you needed something, anything to make you feel less weak. You already feel the embarrassment from clinging onto him so tightly, tears pricking at your eyes. “You’re the literal definition of a damsel in distress,” you mumble, scoffing at yourself. “A young, unmarried woman who is in distress. A crazy damsel in distress at that.” You blink them away. “God, you’re really fucking pathetic, huh?” You chuckle, swallowing again and pressing the phone closer to your ear. “You’re almost a fucking adult and you’re scared of a little height and a little blood. Perspective, Y/N.”

It feels like an hour of sitting, knees now at your chest as you listen to music to take the edge off—‘Like taking ibuprofen for an amputation.’ Regardless of how effective it is, it does something, at least, and that is all you can ask for right now.

You jump out of your skin when your phone buzzes with a text. You fumble with it, pulling it to your face to read Casey asking if you were still free next Tuesday for his stupid fucking game. You text him back that, yes, you are, and hope he stubs his toe for the false alarm.

The text comes at eleven-o-three.

You almost drop the phone, the message “NOW” crossing your screen. You pick the device up carefully, craning your neck back to glance at the building across the street, feeling as though you missed something incredibly important despite knowing the contrary. You swallow one more time and slam your hand down on the button.

The sound of the explosion roars in your ears, your eyes widening at the light now illuminating the roof, images of that night burning in your head and squeezing your throat. You drop the detonator, covering your ears as the ground in front of you is seemingly set alight. It barely registers to you that it is a cold autumn night. Why would you care when all you can hear is screaming? Why bother when your heart is begging to be let out of your chest, when your blood is pooling under you and all your scars are open? All you can see as you shudder, shutting your eyes tightly, is that man’s sides slashed with glass, warm red dripping out of him and onto the dashboard.

You look up, choking on your fear.

You remember what you forgot.

The walls of the top three floors of TCRI?

They are made entirely of the glass now showering down on you.

Table of Contents

Chapter 11

Chapter 13

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slutforagoodsmut · 3 years

Text

We All Get Nightmares

(Lars x OC)

The waves crashed along the sand, the moonlight glittered across the sea. For once in a long time, there was silence, There was peace. No gem saving, no gem destroying. It was a quiet, normal night; and for once in a long time, Primrose went to bed without a sore body or broken bone. Curled up in the bed layed the precious girl, her dark locks of springs for hair bunched up in a ponytail, and the one streak of light pink laying lightly against her face. Her soft warm touch, her skin glowing in the moonlight that beamed through her window. Her pencil striaght physique now starting to blossom from child to young woman, her hips starting to curve out and chest starting to broaden. And on her back, in between her shoulder blades, sat a rose quarts gem that reflected off of any twinkling light, which she kept hidden beneath her hair. Primrose Universe was indeed a beauty, just like her mother was.

There she layed all snuggled up in her plush bed on the other side of the room, a small smile graced upon her lips as she clung to the teddy bear her father gave her all those years ago. She just looked like some ordinary 14 year old girl, a girl who wanted to go far in life, go beyond the limits as any teenager would. The Primrose everyone knows, the girl everyone cherishes, was much more than a silly little teenager. She was a gaurdian, a powerful protector of the gems; keeping the bad out. The twin sister of a powerful boy and the daughter of a gem herself.

But aside all that schmazzy jazzy stuff, Prim was just your avgerage teenager. A girl who listened to her father's old music and laughed at the silly faces he made. A girl who enjoyed her friend's company and eating doughnuts. Someone who loved adventure and would sometimes get in a lil trouble along with her brother. An open minded person who accepted anyone as a friend. That is who Primrose was.

It wasn't far into the night when Prim's phone began to buzz on her nightstand. Prim, being the light sleeper she was, woke immediately, her eyes being blinded by the light the phone gave off. She groaned. "Who's calling in the middle of the night?" She fumbled for the phone and pressed the 'accept call' button, holding it lazily to her ear. "Yo," she said.

"Prim, are you awake?" A certain Lars Barriga voice came through the phone. Prim rolled her eyes and sank her head back into her pillow.

"Oh yeah sure, totally awake, like i always am..." she peered over at her clock, "...at 2:30 in the morning," she said sarcastically.

"I know it's late but I just couldn't sleep! Maybe you could come over for a bit?" Lars asked, his voiced getting a bit high. "Ya'know, help me fall asleep?"

"You've gotta be kidding me Lars," she sighed, her hand sliding down her face. "Dude, you're like almost 17 years old, can't you tuck yourself in? I mean, haven't you tried calling Sadie?" Prim yawned out as she spoke, covering her mouth.

"Yes I could tuck myself in, thank you very much!" Lars hissed. "I just...I had a bad dream and now I can't sleep," he mumbled into the phone. "P-Please?"

Primrose looked back at the clock, then sat up and looked at Steven, who was sleeping soundlessly all the way on the other side of the loft. It'd be easy getting passed her brother, but what about the gems? Nothing could get passed them, and I mean nothing. She put a hand on her head and sighed again. "Fine, I'll be there in 15 minutes."

"thanks Prim, you're the best!" Lars said into the phone.

"I know I am," she grunted as she sat up, stretching her legs and arms. "Oh and Lars?"

"Yes?"

"You owe me." Was the last thing she said to him before ending the call. She couldn't believe she was actually doing this. 'I swear to god if this is a joke...' Prim yawned again as she put her hair up in a messy bun, not bothering to do anything with it at the moment. She didn't bother changing either, and not that it was a big deal anways. Prim was wearing a pair of shorts and tank top, all she needed to do was throw on a bra and head out. Prim walked passed her brother and got her flip flops on, kissing him on the cheek before climbing down the loft. 'Was it cold out?' she wondered, before grabbing a sweatshirt just in case. Now here was the difficut part; getting passed Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl. Pearl was a nutjob when it came to safety, and on the other hand Amethyst could care less, so she would be easy to get by. But then there was Garnet. Garnet was a tricky one, and probably the sneakiest and wisest off them all.

"Alright one step at a time..." Prim whispered as she tip toed silently across the floor boards. Amethyst was snoring on the couch and Pearl was curled up in a ball, but where was Garnet? They should have been in the temple, so this was going to be a little harder than usual. Prim looked around. Uh oh, this wasn't good. Garnet must be in the temple, right? No harm at all! She lightly stepped around carefully, making sure not to step on a squeaky floorboard by mistake. 'Just an hour!' Thought Prim 'and I'll be back before sun rise!'

It took a few minutes but Primrose managed to slip out of the house quickly and quietly. "Phew, that was close," Prim said feeling a bit exhausted.

"What was close?" A voice asked.

She gasped, holding her breath as she clasped a hand over her mouth tightly. "Oh Bejeebus!" Prim slowly turned around to see the giant gem standing over her with her arms crossed, no emotions expressed over her face. It wasn't that she was terrified of Garnet...well....maybe just a tad, it was the fact that Garnet was always right, and to see Garnet dissaprove her actions was one of Prim's biggest fears.

"Where must you be so late at night?" Garnet asked.

"W-Well, I--uh, ya see, something--um c-came up! Yeah that's right, something came up and...." Prim faltered, looking down. Garnet raised a brow behind her glasses, putting a hand on Prim's shoulder. She looked up at the gem and sighed, rubbing the side of her arm. "Lars called me..."

"Lars?"

"Oh! I meant Big Donut Boy!" Prim corrected herself.

"And what does "Big Donut Boy" want with you at this hour of the night?"

"Its sort of embarrassing but...he had a nightmare. And he called me cuz he couldn't go back to sleep."

"A nightmare, huh?" Garnet repeated, putting her hands on her hips. "Well, if you must. This does sound important."

"Yeah I know Garnet I shouldn't leave without--wait what?" Prim stopped herself with wide eyes, looking up at Garnet like an idiot. "Really?"

"Yes, you may go, but don't tell Pearl."

Prim blinked, raising a brow. "Are you an imposter Garnet? Shouldn't you be giving me words of wisdom or something and telling me not to go?"

Garnet cracked a small smile and ruffled Prim's bed head. "Geez Prim, you make it sound like I'm another Pearl." Prom laughed at that. "But yes, I trust you. Just be back before Pearl notices."

"You got it Garnet!" They young girl whispered and gave the gem a quick hug before running down the steps.

*10 minutes Later*

The temple was only a few blocks away from Waterman St., so a walk to Lars's house was a piece of cake for Prim. Her sweatshirt was tied around her neck to keep her shoulders warm and hands tucked in her pockets with her phone. Like she expected, it was a little chilly, but nothing Prim couldn't manage. Matter a fact she loved the chilly weather, and sadly it was something Beach City hardly ever got.

In the distance Prim could see Lars sitting on the steps of his porch, resting his head on his lap. 'Oh man, maybe this really is serious,' she thought as she got closer. He looked miserable, but what was different? He always looked miserable, especially around Prim and Steven. Yes Prim knew Steven could be a bit annoying, but so was she at times! They both had many flaws and messed up--a lot--but hey that's what twins did together! It was both of them or none at all!

"Hey," Prim said, stopping in front of the Barriga Residence.

Lars looked up and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked like he hadn't slept for days! To be honest he looked like a crack head in Prim's opinion... 'No, he would never!' An image of Lars doing crack came to mind. Prim shuddered in fear. 'He may act like Mr.Badass all the time, but he wouldn't dare to do such a thing!'

"Oh, Prim! You're here!" Lars exclaimed a little groggily, as if he were just dozing off. He wore a black Under Armour tank and a pair of grey shorts, her hair a bit of a mess btw.

"Well no shit Sherlock, of course I'm here."

"How did you get out of that wacko of a house and passed that nut job of a family?" He questioned. 'Such a bitch...' Prim thought as she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Watch it chicken legs, I still don't have a problem breaking your arm."

Lars backed off. "Alright alright."

"Well it was fairly easy to get passed my nut job of a family, besides, Garnet is covering for me."

He nodded and patted the spot next to him, indicating for Primrose to sit. Prim gladly took the seat and looked off into the distance, sitting in an awkward silence.

"Rough night?" she asked.

"Uh yeah, rough night," he said, sighing wand rubbing the back of his head. "It hasn't been good the past couple of weeks, I haven't gotten a single drop of good sleep."

"Have you gone to the doctors?"

"Phssht, the Doctors?" Lars scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Doctors are for wimps, big baby, wusses, shall I go on?"

"And the Doctors are for people who are in need of major help, for those who need a diagnosis, and for recovery," Prim corrected him, eyeing Lars up.

"Oh whatever," he groaned, putting his head in his hand. "My parents said that I should go to the Doctors but...I don't know I feel little weird about it."

"Yeah I get," Prim started, "the doctors could be a scary place, no lie, but the only thing they want to do is help you."

Lars sighed, looking down sadly. "Yeah..."

Prim put her hand on his shoulder. "Hey, why don't we go in? Sort of chilly out here don't you think?"

Lars looked at her with depressing eyes and nodded, getting up from his seat and Prim followed him in quietly. "My parents are away on a trip, won't be back till like sometime next week."

"That's pretty cool, gonna throw a few parties?" She elbowed his side and wiggled her brows. Lars shrugged and gave a very small smile.

"I suppose a party or two wouldn't be so bad," Lars thought aloud, flicking the lights on in the kitchen. There on the island sat a plate of doughnuts, soaking in all the glory. Prim licked her lips and her eyes lit up. Lars plopped down on a chair and the younger of the two sat across from him. "Want one?" Lars asked, taking a pink icing topped doughnut.

"Do I ever!" Exclaimed Prim, taking the one with white icing and rainobow sprinkles. She could never turn down the most delicious thing in the entire world. Well, right behind cookie cat. "Oh man these are bomb!"

"Big Donut never fails to impress," muffled Lars while eating his doughnut. After a few more bites of their delicious treats, Prim cleared her throat to speak.

"So how about we talk about the nightmare, hmm?"

"Oh, u-um, now that I think about it, I don't really think it's worth mentioning anymore." Lars rubbed his arm uncomfortable, fidgeting around in his seat.

"Dude I came all the way over here because you had a nightmare, I could be sleeping right now." She rolled her eyes. "So you're telling me."

"But it's stupid, really."

"Not to me it isn't."

"Well to me it is."

"C'mon Lars I didn't come here for nothin' "

"Prim just let it go."

"Nope."

"You're really starting to annoy me."

"Don't care, now spit it out already!"

"No!"

"Why not?!"

"Because it's dumb!"

"Its not dumb!"

"Yes! It! Is!"

"UGH!" Prim stood from her seat and jabbed her finger into Lars's chest. "Why must you be so freakin stubborn?!"

"Why are you always trying to get into everyone's business?!" Lars pushed Prim's arms away.

"YOU TOLD ME TO COME OVER!" Prim flailed her arms around. "God, you say you're life is so horrible, so miserable! Oh boohoo Lars!"

"Yeah! SO WHAT?!"

"Maybe if you talked about your feelings you would be a nicer person and everyone would like you!" Prim yelled at him, shoving the chair in and leaning over table to get in his face.

"Well in so sorry your majesty but I HATE talking about my feelings!"

"WHY?!"

"B-BECAUSE I'M SCARED!!!" Lars's hand went down and he hit the table with a loud bang. Silence fell between them, the only sounds filling the air at the moment was their heaving. "Are you happy?!" His voice cracked as he wiped the building tears from his eyes, sitting back down and hiding his face in his arms. Lars's shoulders shook as he cried and Prim looked down at him pitifully.

Prim sat back down and sighed, running a hand over her face. "Lars..."

"W-What?" He whimpered into his arms.

"Look at me."

Lars moved his head so that Prim could only see just his eyes; those dark eyes that were streaked with tears.

Prim put her hand on his arm and leaned in. "Tell me what happened."

Lars furrowed his brows, wiping his eyes and grabbing a tissue from the tissue box beside him. "It's just...it was all dark. No light, nothin, just pitch black. A-And I was alone! Just me, falling down an endless pit of darkness. Prim I couldn't escape! I was so scared! No mom and dad, no Sadie--no Steven...n-not even you..." he placed his hand over Prim's, looking away with tinted cheeks. "I thought it would never end. And then there was horrible voices. They said such hurtful t-things..." Lars shut his eyes tightly and his shoulders shook.

"What did these voices say Lars?" Prim asked gently.

"They....they...called me pathetic. A-A waste of s-space. They said my parents were ashamed of me. That I was a loser." He covered his eyes. "But they were true. These voices were right about everything they said."

Prim's eyes widened and it felt like her heart broke. 'Oh you poor thing...' She was his friend, this was probably the first time Lars has ever opened up to anyone, but Prim didn't know what to do.

"Why can't I just be like Steven?" Lars said. "Why can't I just be like...you?" He looked up at her. "You're kind to everyone and everything. You're smart, passionate, you help everyone who has a problem, and you make a new friend everyday--the same with Steven. Y-You're nice to me, even when I treat you badly," the teen looked away with shame.

Prim shook her head, "There's only one Steven, there's only one of me, and then there's just one of you. And to just think of two Stevens drives me nuts," she cracked a toothy smile, thinking of her brother. "The things those voices said aren't true in any way, shape, or form, I promise you that. You are who you are, and no one could change you. Sure you have your bad days, but who doesn't? And sure you have more bad days than good, but that just makes the good days seem even more special then they really are." Prim cupped Lars's cheeks, wiping the tears away with her fingers. "You're special."

"R-Really?" Sniffed Lars, swallowing hard and face becoming hotter.

"In my eyes you are. To me you always will be." The two smiled at each other, faces rather close now. "We all get nightmares. Even you Lars, even I."

"Thank you, Prim..." Lars whispered. "Ya'know, now that I look at you more and more often, I never told you this, but you really are beautiful."

"Jeez, I get you to open up once and you're already telling me I'm beautiful?" She smirked, blowing a lose strand of hair out of her face.

He rolled his eyes, moving his eyes away from hers. "W-Well, since we're in the moment n' all, I thought I should just tell you. I mean, you're gorgeous!"

Prim's face started to feel hot with embarrassment, the sweatshirt suddenly not being needed anymore. Prim pulled back and pulled the sweatshirt off, the cool breeze hitting her skin and her gem glowing with passion. It was out there, making her body feel warm with....love? 'This is an odd feeing...' she thought to herself. She only ever felt her dad's fatherly love, or Steven's brother love, even the Gem's motherly love in a way...never this kind. Maybe it wasn't even love, she didn't know, but from then on when she looked at the boy in front of her, she felt...different. Her stomach tingled, like butterflies swarmed inside. Her heart pounded in her chest, her cheeks going red as she leaned forward again.

"O-Oh w-w-well thanks," Prim laughed softly, rubbing the back of her head. "You flatter me---

A pair of lips pressed against hers, a hand on the back of her head. Prim stuttered into the kiss, her heart skipping a few beats, a feeling of warmth engulf her. Prim kissed Lars back, holding his shoulders. A few seconds later they both broke away, gasping for air, falling back in their seats. She touched her lips with her fingertips, slouching in her chair. 'Did he just...?'

Lars himself looked like he couldn't believe what he had done. He covered his mouth, his face passed the color red, looking away out of sheer humiliation. "I'm sorry Prim, I...I-I don't know what came over me--" Prim rose from her seat, looking at Lars with a smirk. "Wait, where are you going?" He asked, sounding a bit saddened and panicked.

She rolled her dark eyes at him and walked around the table and stood in front of Lars. "Where am I gonna go?" She asked, a smile on her lips.

(Ok so like I don't know if this is Would be labeled as pg 13/14 form this point on, so don't go nutso in the comments!)

Prim sat down on Lars's lap, facing him with her arms around his neck. Lars seemed to be in a dazing shock, his eyes still glittering with settling tears and face shining with streaks. She pressed against his chest, a small cheeky smile spread against her face. Lars stuttered over his words, his hands resting on her back, fingers moving over her gem. "I-I-I like you..." Lars mumbled quietly, looking her in the eyes (I know, real cheesy). "Like...really really like you..."

"Really? I haven't noticed," Prim raised her brows, "I'm just curious why me and not Sadie."

"Sadie..." he started, "I only ever seen Sadie as a friend. Nothing more, but I think she feels a bit stronger about me instead."

"You don't think she'd be really mad at us, do you?" The girl of 14 asked a bit worriedly. After all, Sadie was her friend too, and she would never want to upset her.

"I don't know, actually, we'll just have to see."

"So that means..." Prim laughed a little, shrugging her shoulders, "that we're dating? Like...a thing?"

Lars smiled widely, nodded his head, and rested his forehead against hers. Prim kissed his cheek, then his jawbone, and then laid a small kiss on his neck, and then a bigger one where his shoulder and neck met. "You won't ever abandon me, would you?" he moaned, his grip on Prim becoming stronger. "Like, leave me for someone better?"

Prim, the girl with dark, long springs for hair, chuckled softly, hugging the older boy's skinny yet strong chest to her. "Never" is what she whisper, giving him a loving kiss on the cheek.

#steven universe #lars #lars barriga #lars x reader #stuff #idfk #garnet #pearl steven universe #amethyst #Steven

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

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Humans are Space Orcs, “Workout.”

Forgive me for being short today, But I have a Russian test in less than an hour, and it is on numbers which is the most excruciating part of this language lol.

Hope you all have a good day :)

The human pulled to a stop huffing and puffing, hands on his knees as he took in great big breaths. Krill could see ribs through his skin as the great bellows expanded and then contracted. Sweat slicked the skin as the body desperately tried to cool itself.

“Heart rate 165.”

The human straightened himself out coughing once or twice to clear his throat, reaching out and wiping his face with a towel.

He threw the towel over one shoulder and stretched the large muscle groups in his chest, stomach and back pulling tight.

Sunny leaned against the wall just to their right both sets of arms crossed over her chest, “So, what is this supposed to be fore. Is this like a dominance thing or something.”

The human wiped his face again and raised an eyebrow, “IT’s exercises, Sunny. You know so I can be fit enough to pass the UNSC PT exam, or perhaps so that I can do my job better, or maybe because I look better whenI’m more fit.

Sunny turned her head to look at him, her eyes scrunching down a little as Krill went to take notes on a clipboard.

“You mean…. You didn’t just grow to being that size?’

The human glanced down at Krill incredulous, “IS she serious? Do the Drev like, not have to work out?”

Krill shook his head, “Drev do not have subcutaneous fat deposits like humans do. Any acquired deposits are stored below the carapace between the connective tissue, padding them down and giving them more protection.”

Sunny looked between them in confusion, “Wait, hold on…. I’m confused.”

The human towelled off his hair, “I have to work out to look like this sunny. IF i don’t use it, I lose it.”

She turned to look at Krill.

He tucked the holo-pad under one arm, “You see, Sunny. Humans are meant to adapt. They can adapt mentally, and they can adapt physically. The body changes to match the requirements of its environment. Sometimes this takes years to do, for instance if you take a light skinned population of humans and put them somewhere with a lot of sun, and keep that population in complete isolation, after a few generations, the skin will darken to compensate for the increased UV light. However these things happen on a smaller level. The body fluctuates to adapt to the amount of physical work which is required.”

The human nodded, “Exactly. Running strengthens the heart, and it increases the hemoglobin in my blood, so that I can run for a longer time with more oxygen. If I were to stop running, I would loose all of that and have to work back up.”

Sunny stared at him incredulous, “So, you have to force your body to be able to perform correctly. Like, It can’t just DO what it needs to do, but you have to convince it over years of training to be able to do what you want.”

The man shrugged, “Well anything sucks when you phrase it like that.” He turned and motioned them to follow, “Historically, humanity was evolved in an environment with little food. We ate a diet heavy in proteins, fiber, and natural carbs from fruit. Fat is an essential part of a human’s diet, but it is relatively difficult to find in nature because of this, the body adapted to make humans love and crave fatty and sugary foods for energy. Well since well into the twentieth eighteenth century, fatty foods were becoming commonplace, and easy to get our hands on, but the body wasn’t aware of that, so it continued to treat these new fatty foods the way our bodies would have treated them back when we were hunter/gatherers storing every last bit up for use later.”

Sunny followed after in fascination, “I see, so now you have…. Too much of a food that your body craves.”

The human looked over his shoulder, “You got it, and the body doesn’t know when to stop storing fat. It’ll just keep going. So if I were to sit on my ass all day eating chips, I would lose the muscle and I would get bigger as fat deposits were stored up for energy.”

Sunny shrugged, “What is the problem with that?”

The human tapped his chin lightly, “A few things, I guess. For me, at least, if I were to just stop working out, I wouldn’t be able to do my job as well, I wouldn't be able to run as far, or to jump as high, or to lift as much. And lifting myself up in a pullup would be impossible, and considering the amount of times we have all almost fallen off a cliff or had to haul ourselves up rope, you would think that would be a bad idea. Not to mention that the larger you are the harder your heart has to work as the blood supply is forced to expand, and since you aren't working out your heart it gets weaker but has to do more work, which --in turn-- increased the risk of heart issues. Compounding all that I wouldn't be able to sit in a cockpit or pilot a jet properly.”

Sunny shook her head, “That seems like a very… annoying model. You can never just relax. You always have to work to keep your body where it should be. And the amount of self control you have to have….”

The human laughed, “You have no idea how much self control I need when a box of doughnuts gets in my way.” He sighed, “Keeping my abs as been a real struggle, but the UNSC drilled some self discipline into me when I was still young.”

“So you weren't always this big.”

The human snorted, “no not in the slightest. In fact, I was so skinny, you could see my heart beating through my rib cage.

Sunny grimaced.

“Yeah I know, kinda gross. Those are your two directions. If you don’t work out your either super scary skinny, or you get a bit big. If you’re working out right you get muscles.” He turned around flexing proudly for them to outline the lines of his biceps, chest and stomach.

Sunny would have rolled her eyes back into her head, but she supposed, now that she knew he had to work for it, she was at least somewhat proud of him.

“Ok, I have a question then.”

“Shoot.”

“Can you get bigger?”

More laughter, “Oh yeah, totally, but I’m not THAT dedicated.”

They were just coming around a corner when the commander skidded to a halt eye to chest with an absolutely massive human.

Even sunny stepped back in surprise.

This human was large enough to look sunny in the eye, with shoulders about as wide as her, and a chest that looked like it could have benched a small car.

It was almost comical, a moment ago Sunny had assumed that the commander was a large human.

“Wow there big mean. I’’d rather not get steamrolled today, thanks.”

The large human glanced down at the commander.

“Sir.” He grunted before stepping around and walking up the hall.

Sunny watched him go, “What do you have to do to get that big!”

“You practically have to live at the gym.”

They turned the corner walking into a large room, with strange machines of unknown use.

ANd in here there were humans of all sizes and shapes, but most of them absolutely massive. Those who lacked height, did not lack muscle.

Male humans, female humans, all of the above.

A tiny female human stood at one of these machines carrying a bar on her shoulders with enough weight that sunny assumed it might crush her. Instead she squatted down to the floor and stood back up.

The captain blinked, “Holy shit.” He motioned towards her, “She squats more than me by the way. You see these guys are insane. I work out to maintain, these guys do it because its their hobby.”

Krill floated upwards to whisper in sunny’s ear, “For the muscle to enlarge, the fibers must tear open, and then the body comes back and repairs the tear to withstand the pressures that tore it in the first place.

Sunny stared at Krill incredulously, “So you're telling me, they just…. Tear themselves apart to get like that.”

The Commander left them standing in place walking over to the wall and jumping upwards, catching his hands around a black bar welded to the wall, the muscles in his back, just below the shoulder blades flexed as he pulled himself upwards, the muscles in his shoulder blades rolling under the skin.

They continued to watch as the commander did his set, a little bit of everything for demonstration purposes. Getting off one of the leg machines, one of these large female humans walked past sitting where he had just sat reaching out pulling out the peg and and bringing the weight almost to the bottom of the plates.

The commander leaned in, “See her, she could probably crush your skull using just her legs.” He sighed, “Man, I only WISH I could be that badass.” He looked up at sunny, “Sometimes I come here just to knock myself down a peg.”

Across the room, one of these massive humans was hauling a huge bar lined with weight on either side up over his head like it was nothing.

“You see that, that would probably invert my spine if I tried to do it.” “Must you be so graphic?” Krill wondered

“Yeah, because that’s how much of a wuss I am.”

Looking around, Sunny wasn’t convinced entirely of his status as a wuss. He had all the requisite muscle groups of, even the largest humans, and more than some. There were great swatches of the human population who,even here, were missing some things.

A few of the humans had large arms, ut small legs, small legs, but large arms, no chest, or chest and no abdominal muscles.

Yes sure, he may have been smaller than their largest, but he WAS well rounded arms, chest, stomach, legs, back and shoulders.

She found herself surprised at the smug satisfaction in comparing her human to the other humans.

Sure her human couldn’t bench THAT much, but he also had better legs, so there.

“You ok, Sunny?”

She turned her head to look at him.

“Just thinking.” She said

He shrugged at her and returned to his work.

It’s hard to be a human.

They have to work for everything they have, especially when it comes to their body.

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spiders-hth-is-an-outlier · 4 years

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So I love and appreciate the Healing Journey/Cuddle Party that Queliot fandom has been having for the last two years, but -- uh, as a person whose psyche is the animate form of Placebo’s discography, I’m VERY INTO the fact that we’re starting to get more, like, bare-knuckle blood sports in our collective oeuvre. Basically, this is a rec post, because are you reading these stories? You should be reading these stories:

damage control for a walking corpse, by theheartischill / @prettyboysdontlookatexplosions

“That doesn’t matter,” Quentin says. “I mean it matters, because it means I can fuck who I want and you don’t get to have an opinion about it, but — I’m not dating Alice, but if she told me she was fucking a bunch of other people it would hurt my feelings.”

“Really?” Eliot sounds skeptical.

“No,” Quentin admits. He kind of hates proving him right. The weed came from some herbalist at the safehouse in Cedar Rapids and he thinks it might have been a mistake. “But I think it would if I still had feelings.”

“You don’t not have feelings.”

Quentin ignores this. “Plus, I dumped Alice. You actually wanted to date me.”

“I wanted to date a version of you that was not exclusively composed of the most dickish parts of your personality, yes,” Eliot says. “But at the moment you seem really committed to the bit, so right now it’s like, what exactly am I missing?”

“Wow,” Quentin says. “Harsh. But fair.” He manages not to tell Eliot that he thinks that the most dickish parts of his personality are maybe the only ones that made it back from the Underworld, but it’s a struggle. Next time he buys weed off some hedge he is going to ask a lot more questions about what exactly “revelatory” means.

This is the story that currently has a goddamn car battery clamped onto my spinal cord. I can’t fucking stop thinking about it. It’s stunning, but to appreciate it you have to have a pretty high tolerance level for Quentin being a total fuck-up. My tolerance level for Quentin being a fuck-up is MAXIMAL, so I’m golden, but even so this story does hurt all three of my feelings. It is somehow laugh-out-loud hilarious and also just one of the most brutally stripped-bare stories I’ve ever read about the ugly shit that goes along with depression, the self-sabotage and the self-loathing and the way you can resent and lash out at the people who are trying to save you. Seriously, this story has floored me in every way, at every step, it’s infuriating and addictive and buoyant and honest and sardonic and thrilling, I cannot wrap my head around how fucking good this is.

is it too late (or could this love protect me), by Rizandce / @nellie-elizabeth

“Great, well,” Eliot says, still staring past Quentin. His voice is blank, dull. “That’s… that sure is great, Q.” Then he shakes his head, letting out a sound that bears only the most tangential relationship to a laugh. “You show up here, you—you—you haven’t so much as sent me a text message in a month, Q, and then you show up to force me to be the shoulder to cry on when shit goes south with Alice? You know that’s not fair to me. You know it.”

“I didn’t!” Quentin says, grasping on to the defense before he can think it through. He’s almost relieved at the opening. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. That’s why I came here, I had to—I didn’t know. I didn’t realize—Alice had to tell me, El.”

“Tell you what?” Eliot grits out, walking with purpose over to the honest-to-god drink cart he has set up against the diagonal wall by the kitchen, because of course he does, he’s Eliot, and there’s always room for a drink cart, there’s always time for a cocktail, god, he’s utterly terrifying, Quentin’s afraid of him, afraid for him, still, all this time, all these years, he’s the scariest thing in Quentin’s life

Okay, well, this one is a little less of a gut punch, except for the parts that absolutely are. A non-magic AU where everyone is just regular degular friends from college, and there are fights and breakups and broken hearts, but even more there’s just -- being almost thirty and drifting further and further away from the intensity and intimacy of your 18-year-old friendships, losing people you love while they’re still on your calendar for brunch. This is just so intricate and detailed and realized, the contours of grief and regret, the way life narrows in on you as you make your choices, the way the biggest feelings of your younger self manage to survive under adverse conditions. It’s heart-rending, and it’s also just so purely beautiful.

So that’s it, read these two stories! They’re both WIPs, but -- I don’t know, do it anyway, don’t be a wuss. But seriously, these are both just amazing assets to the fandom and gorgeous pieces of art, you deserve to give yourself the pleasure of reading them.

#queliot recs #the power of queliot compels you #the magicians

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storiesforallfandoms · 5 years

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scary movies ~ billy loomis;scream

word count: 1467

request?: no

description: when your friends ditch you at a scary movie marathon, you find yourself getting acquainted with the scary movie expert

pairing: billy loomis x female!reader

warnings: swearing

(Y/F/N) = your friend’s name, (Y/FB/N) = your friend’s boyfriend’s name

You checked your watch for what felt like the millionth time within the last 20 minutes. Your friends were supposed to have met you here already. The movies were about to start and they were nowhere to be found.

You noticed the nearby payphone and decided to call your friend’s house to see if they had even left yet. The phone rang only twice before the cheery voice of (Y/F/N) answered. “Hello?”

“(Y/F/N), where the hell are you?” you asked. “The movies start in like 10 minutes!”

“Oh shit, (Y/N)!” she exclaimed. “I totally forgot! I’m so sorry, (Y/FB/N) and I decided to have a date night at the house. I’m so sorry, look we’ll be there soon - ”

“No,” you cut her off. “Forget it. You guys have a good night, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

You hung up before she could protest. You looked down at the ticket you had already purchased and sighed. You knew if you just left it would be a waste of money, you’d never be able to forgive yourself for wasting it. So, you sucked it up and headed into the theater.

You, (Y/F/N), and (Y/FB/N) were supposed to go to a scary movie marathon, something you originally were very against. You were definitely a wuss, scary movies were your least favourite. But (Y/F/N) assured you it’d be fine, and you’d all go together so you wouldn’t have to be alone. So, reluctantly, you agreed. And now here you were, alone, going to watch scary movies. You shook your head, slightly frustrated.

You walked into the still lit theater. It wasn’t as full as you expected it to be. There was just a few couples scattered around, already snuggled up, some just inches from making out, others in full blown make out mode. You suppressed a groan and threw yourself into a chair at the end of the back row. The only other person in that row was a guy sitting by himself, already eating away at some popcorn. When you sat down, he turned to look at you.

“No snack?” he asked. “I thought it was like a number one movie rule to have a snack at the movie.”

You shrugged. “Not hungry.”

He moved over a few seats, closing the distance between the two of you, before offering you some of your popcorn. You wanted to turn it down, but the sudden feeling of hunger in your stomach won you over. You took a handful and began to munch on it.

“I hope I’m not offending anyone by offering you to share my food,” he continued. "Is an angry boyfriend about to come in here and beat my ass?”

You scoffed. “Definitely not. I’m, like, so single it’s sort of sad. Not here with anyone, either. I was ditched by my friends.”

The kind stranger moved over another seat, now leaving one between you two. You decided to meet him in the middle and sit right next to him. You were taught never to talk to strangers, but how dangerous could this guy be? He just seemed like a friendly stranger, and he was really cute.

“That sucks,” he said. “You like scary movies at least?”

You shook your head. “Nope, absolutely hate them.”

He whistled. “So, you came here to watch a scary movie marathon, knowing you didn’t like scary movies, and you decided to stay after being stood up?”

You shrugged. “The ticket was already bought, I didn’t want it to go to waste.”

“I can respect that,” he said, putting out his hand to wait for a fist bump. You couldn’t help but giggle and bump your fist against his.

“What about you?” you ask. “Am I about to get my eyes scratched out by a jealous girlfriend?”

He laughed and shook his head. “Nope, here by myself, too. My buddy and I were supposed to go together, but he stood me up for his girlfriend. Which, I guess I can’t blame him, at least he’s getting laid.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at this. “I love scary movies, so I decided to stay and watch some.”

“Well, since you like them so much, maybe you could protect me from them.”

He stretched his arm around the back of your chair, wrapping it around your shoulders. “I’ll protect you anytime, babe.”

The name caused your whole face to heat up and you just giggled in response. He playfully winked at you, and laughed as well. His arm, however, stayed around your shoulder.

“My name’s (Y/N),” you tell him.

“I’m Billy,” he responded. “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

The lights in the theater went out and the movies began. The first one was Nightmare on Elm Street, probably your least favourite scary movie. It was bad enough that this would probably give you nightmares, but the fact that the movie was about a killer that killed people in their dreams definitely was not going to help the matter.

While the young couples around you were two busy making out with their hands down each others pants, you were hiding behind your hands and trying not to yelp too loud every time another scare came on the screen. Billy looked at you, laughing at you every now and then.

“I’m glad you find my fear amusing,” you muttered, followed by another whimper.

“I’ve just never seen someone so afraid of scary movies,” he said. “And you were really going to watch this by yourself?”

“I thought I’d be able to tough it out,” you admitted. You sighed heavily, “I can’t believe they ditched me.”

Billy looked at you. “You seem really beat up over it.”

You tried to concentrate on the movie and not on the hurt you were feeling, but it was hard to do so when you kept thinking about how it was supposed to be the three of you here, watching the movies together, being scared together. Instead, you were here alone, with some guy you had just met, who was already doing a lot better of a job at being your friend than (Y/F/N).

“My best friend got a boyfriend a few months ago,” you found yourself explaining. “And don’t get me wrong, I’m not mad about that at all. She’s so happy with him, how could I be mad? And he’s a really nice guy, he’s basically become a part of our group, which I’m grateful for. I’d like to get along with her boyfriend and not be one of those friends who can’t stand being around him, but it’s just...”

As you trailed off, Billy picked up, “She’s spending all her time with him.”

“Yes!” you responded, a little too loudly. Luckily, it seemed like no one really cared. “He’s her first real boyfriend, so I understand wanting to spend time with him and go out on dates and such, but she'll make plans with me then ‘forget’ about them when the time comes to spend time with him. It’s like she doesn’t want to spend time with me at all anymore, and it really hurts. Feels like I’ve been thrown aside for some guy she’s only known a couple of months.”

Billy nodded. “I understand. Like I said, my buddy ditched me for his girlfriend tonight. He’s not so bad that it’s a regular occurrence, but it does suck none the less.”

You sat back in your seat, staring ahead at the screen in front of you. You tried not to wince as another jumpscare came on the screen. You were really just finished with being here. You shouldn’t have stayed for the movies. Now you were scared and upset and just wanted to go home.

You got up out of your seat and walked out the door without another word. You started towards the doors of the theater when you heard someone calling your name. You turned around to see Billy following you.

“Go back and enjoy the marathon,” you told him. “I think I’m just gonna go home. This really isn’t my scene.”

“Why don’t we go out somewhere?” he suggested. “A less scary coffee place or something? We can talk more if you want.”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t want to take you away from the marathon. You actually seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

“I think I’d enjoy myself more if I was hanging out with you,” he responded.

You didn’t want to turn Billy away, actually it was quite the opposite. You really wanted to take him up on the offer.

What the hell? you thought. I have nothing else going on tonight.

You smiled and shrugged. “Sure. Just nothing scary, okay?”

Billy smiled brightly. “Okay, deal.”

just a lil halloween-esque imagine because spooky day is upon us

#billy loomis #billy loomis imagine #billy loomis x reader #skeet ulrich #skeet ulrich imagine #skeet ulrich x reader #halloween #scream #horror movie #imagine #spooky season #one shot

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yamithediaperdork · 3 years

Text

Midnight Stroll (Soul eater)

Midnight stroll

It was a bright star and moon filled night out, something that a certain weapon wasn't all that happy with as he made his way toward the park in death city. When he'd originally planned this all out it had been with the understanding of a cloudy night to help him hide a little better and now that plan had gone to hell. Of course the fact he was even going to enact his plan outside meant that our hero wanted to be seen but still. who's our hero and whats the plan you may be asking? The Hero of course was Soul, weapon extorinair and always hungry for well, souls.And his plan was to engage in his bi monthly diaper waddle of shame. You see Soul wasn't like most boys his age who were off chasing girls and being all manly. his idea of a ideal date would be getting spanked silly, diapered and teased till he pooped himself and then being put to bed in a crib without a diaper change. As you might expect, this made his dating options slim to none so he just handled his babying himself. Granted there had been a close call or two when his roommate Black Star had walked in while he was diapered but Soul had manged to get under his blankets before being seen.

It was that close call that had soul decide to take his diaper games public, though he really only went out around midnight, and only did a quick little walk (or waddle if you prefer) in a area where not many people were up/knew him. before he had done massive diapers under shorts, and a diaper and t-shirt but tonight's main event so to speak would be his most daring outfit yet, and this time he wasn't going to carry his big boy clothes in a back pack with him. This time he was going to leave them in the public bathroom at the park so he'd have no real way of wussing out and hiding in a alley, scrambling to get pants on over his diapers. Just the thought of how MUCH of a big dumb stupid baby he was going to be had him almost skipping as he made his way into the park and made a B line for the bathrooms.

In the bathroom stall Soul paused and caught his breath, mentally psyching himself up for what he was going to do There was no two ways about it, while the THOUGHT of what he was going to do had him rock hard and squirming like crazy as he leaked into his Garfield briefs, he KNEW just how bad this could be if he was caught. Just picturing Maka or Death or really ANY of his friends finding out what a big baby he was had him whimpering even if he was totally ready to have a 'accident' if he kept it up. Still, he hadn't blown a ton of money to order these items in and NOT use them, and nothing ventured nothing gained. or some bullshit like that. In any case, he started to strip.

Walking out of the bathroom with a waddle in his step, Soul was crimson faced but grinning like a fool as he checked out his reflection in the mirror. looking back at him was a young man, in thick massive nursery print diapers that forced his legs apart and would be more then up for the challenge of holding ANY messes the so called big boy could make. On his feet gone were the sneakers and instead was a pair of white baby booties in his size with little silver stars decorating them. His scrawny chest was covered with a plastic bib, white with a silver trim and in silver letters proclaimed soul to be a 'messy eater.' In his mouth bobbing in and out, and attached to a string around Soul's neck was a white and silver Pacifier, with a extra large nipple on it so his whole mouth was filled and it was already making him drool like the big baby he was. the final piece of his new look was a oversized white and silver baby bonnet to A) help him look even more silly and B) help help his identity. 'You, are SUCH a baby!' he thought to himself, squirming and crinkling as he wiggled his hips. Giggling like crazy he waddled back over to the stall and zipped up the book bag with all his big boy stuff in it and hung it on the inside door hook, the closed the stalls from the outside. Sure anyone who pushed on the door would see no one was in there buttt it wasn't like the place was exactly hopping with a bunch of people so Soul was sure it would be ok.

the first few steps into the wide open area of the park was the most nerve wracking, there was NO where to dodge and try and hide once he walked more then five steps away from the bathroom and Soul felt like at any second everyone and their uncle was going to pop outta nowhere and point and laugh at him. 'Mental note..next time toke up first.' he thought, squirming and his belly full of butterflies as he waddle over toward the play structure. Plopping his butt down in one of the swings (and barley fitting) he looked over at the baby seat swing with want in his eyes but if his fat diaper butt could barely fit in a normal swing, they'd have to call someone to cut him free out of one of those. Swinging back and forth a little he closed his eyes and pretended that it was the middle of the day, and a group of kids were all gathered around pointing and laughing at him. 'oh nooo! they're all being sooo mean to widdle meee! where my mommy and da-' Soul was thinking , but with his eyes closed and getting carried away he didn't notice that the slick plastic of his diapers had been sliding on the seat and suddenly he fell off the back of the swing. '...owwwwww..' he whined mentally, looking up at the sky. Since clearly swings and his diapers were going to work out on this fine evening, Soul after picking himself up moved on towards the slide. Climbing on the metal ladder with it being somewhat narrow and his diaper so bulky was a little trickier then he'd thought it would be and his foot slipped more then once as he made his way up. 'I swear, if I hurt myself AGAIN on playground equipment I'm just gonna bring a bucket and sand shovel next time and play in the sand box.' Soul thought dryly. the fact that he was apparently too much of a baby to use this stuff meant for little kids though DID make him feel nice and babyish and he was all grins as he got to the top of the slide and started to come down..At least till the static cling and the bulk of the diaper and the smallish sides of the slide meant while he didn't get stuck, he got one hell of a diaper wedgie. 'Anddd I think I'm done with the playground.' Soul thought sheepishly, trying to pick his diapers out of his ass crack.

The next part of his little planned fun was a little bit more risky then just playing on the playground. the playground had been close enough to the bathroom that he could of dashed back in as needed, but now as he tapped his chin and looked in different direction, he was going to go and walk for a block in the city on one of those directions. He wasn't too worried about being jumped or attack since well, diapers or no diapers he was a fucking weapon, but still people seeing him, pointing and laughing, maybe even taking pictures.... It was everything he dreaded and everything he wanted and it didn't take long for any common sense to be drowned out and he picked the southern route, meaning a good 6 minutes of waddling just in the park before even hitting the streets. His nipples stiff under his baby bib, Soul took one last look back at the park, then waddled out into the city.

as fate would have it, the path that Soul took actually went by a new all night gay bar, something he didn't realize till he turned a corner and there was a group of 5 well muscled men out having a smoke. The sight made him freeze in his tracks which was bad because he was under a street lamp at the time and while he to unfreeze and back track, he got noticed. "What the hell.." Came a drunken voice. "Oh my god! Tell me I'm actually seeing this and it's not just the phantom blast shots I've been pounding!" "Pffftt..it's a little diaper boy!" "You lost little boy? come sit with uncle." Anther one called and patted his lap. "Heh, think they'd wipe our bar tab clean if we brought him inside?" The last one asked. Soul's paci was moving in and out of his mouth BIG time now as he unfroze, but was squirming like crazy as a deep red blush covered his face. the men got up and started to walk over, smirking, smiling and one of them was pulling his cell phone out! "A-Ah! N-No pictures please!" Soul squeaked out, letting the paci fall out of his mouth and trying to cover his face. "heh..Cutie offer cutie. turn around and wiggle that cute butt of yours for us and there will be no FACE pictures." Cell phone said. A huge whine came out of soul, but he had to admit this was exactly that kind of attention he had humped stuffies into oblivion thinking about. It wasn't like he was going to be able to outrun the guys even if they were clearly wasted with the massive diaper between his legs and he briefly thought about maybe just switching to pull ups for next time so he could take off easier if this sorta thing happened again. Banishing THAT thought from his mind he did a half turn so his pampered butt was facing the drunks and then he started to shake it back and forth and getting into it, reached back and slapped it a couple of times. "Oh, somebodies a naughty baby huh? Does your daddy and mommy know where you are?" "hehehe Nope~! And.." Soul paused, the attention and the feeling of all of this short circuiting any restraint. "And it's just my daddy. We live together but he doesn't know what a dumb diaper bitch I am and How much I love being a pamper filling humiliation junkie~" "..well I'm hard." came a voice he recognized as cell phones. Soul giggled and wagged a finger back and forth. "ah ah ah, Sorry Uncles..This diaper boy is a official virgin for life so I can't help you with that! No sex for me ever, just poopie diapers and lots of teasing!" Soul giggled, then swatted his butt again and rubbed the front of his diapers. "Oh man.. no one is ever going to believe this..even with the pictures." "I'm seeing it with my own two eyes and -I- can't." Soul giggled again but then his tummy gurgled and grumbled, apparently his greasy supper wanted to make a appearance. "..wait..is he going to.." One of the guys asked. Not having to look at them, Soul found himself more daring then ever and popped a squat, rubbing his tummy. "Ohhh nooo! the big dumb BABY has to go boom boom!" he whined in babyish tone, and dared a look over his shoulder. and then paled. the original five had turned into 15 men watching him and smirking and suddenly the idea of loading his diapers in front of such a big crowd didn't seem like such a good idea. "A-Ah on second thought.." He squeaked. "Aww come on, don't be a cock tease! you promised us a show!" a guy wearing a bandana and sunglasses at night protested. "I..But..This is too many..and.." Soul whined and squirmed, his guts churning and a muffled fart coming out of him. "...Ok guys we're scaring the baby. phones away, no one record little soul's accident." Came the voice of one of the original five and Soul relaxed for a second..then turned around, letting out a massive poot and eyes wide. "W-Wait you know m-my name!?!" He practically shrieked. "uh..Yeah. wasssss I not suppose to? you're kinda famous in town." the guy said rubbing the back of his head. "..I'm going to run away now." Soul said, voice going faint. He made it all of five steps in his effort to get away, over the protest of his crowd of 'fans' when he was forced to hunch over and pop a squat again. Those who watched the show would later on agree while the visual effect of watching a deadly weapon helplessly blort out his diaper so it was sagging and discolored was hawt..they could of done without the smell. Still when Soul had dropped to his knees and pounded a fist on the street, while crying out that he was making cum cums, that helped them put up with the stink.

The waddle back to the park took much longer, though with the heavy load in his diaper making him waddle worse then before and his legs weak from the force of his orgasm it wasn't that shocking. Several times he had to pause and rest against a lamppost, and just suck on his paci, having semi orgasmic after shocks as he thought about what he had just done. 'Well, Ones thing for sure. that's to sure fuel my stuffie humping for at least half a year.' He thought and giggled a little. Finally making his way back to the bathroom, and having to wave away flies now, soul had let the paci fall from his mouth as he was holding his nose. "guh, I'm fucking rotten. no more greasy joeys fried chili-dogs for me." He muttered softly and spotted his stall. and froze. because it was wide open. "Ohhh no. no no no.." Soul said, gulping and a shaky smile on his face. "M-My Book bag is GOING to be there. it's going to be there. it's going to be there." it became a mantra as he took one step at a time, a feeling of weakness washing over him. "it's going to be there. it's..it's.." Soul mewed as he made it and looked, tears welling up in his eyes. "It's..Not here..But..my house key was in there...I..I have to waddle home..In..In a poopie diaper..and..And get Black star to let me in.." the big baby went silent as it sunk in and then feel to his knees crying out and sobbing even as a second powerful orgasm wracked though his body.

Black star was less then pleased as the doorbell wouldn't stop. he'd had more then a few drinks before going to bed and shouted for soul to get the fucking door, but of course the white haired bastard was ignoring him. 'I swear..after I answer the door if he's still asleep it's hand in warm water time.' Black thought. in just his white boxers with little black stars all over it (Yes, he was THAT vain) he made his way down to the front door. Modesty wasn't really a big thing for him and to be fair with how late it was fuck whoever was knocking on the door and ringing the door bell, they could see him in his undies. Not bothering to use the peephole first to see who it was, Black Star just opened the door and started to snarl. "What do you fucking..want..Uh..soul?" he roared, then went from a pissed off face, to a confused one, then smirking. "Oh. My. God." Soul whined and blushed, squirming back and forth. "C-Can you just move and let me in already?" the big baby whined. "Bwhahahaha! I knew it! Maka and everyone else said I was crazy But I fucking knew it! I know that was a diaper I saw you in the other day!" Black star crowed, then paused and wrinkled his nose. "wait..is that smell coming from you?" "N-No! I mean..yes, but uh..I just..stepped in some dog crap! yeah! that's it an-" Soul tried to say, but Black star not only tugged him into the house, but turned him around and planted his palm on the massive mess in the back of soul's diapered, making the big babies eyes roll in his head. "You did! you totally fudged yourself! Oh man!" Black star laughed, and then kept patting the poor weapons droopy pampers. "I think we need to have a nice long talk about how things are going to change around here, don't you?" Black Star asked and smirked. "I..I Uh..Ohh.." the weapon mewed and spread his legs to allow Star a easier time of smushing his mush tush. "though first and foremost, the first thing that needs to be changed is your stinky diaper butt..little boy." Black star said and then kissed soul's cheek. As his third orgasm in under a hour wracked his body, soul couldn't help but think that maybe he should of just stayed in tonight and streamed a movie.

The end

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