Giant sentient space biorobot mom adopts hundreds of traumatised kids with strange powers, convinces them to slaughter their slave masters and go to bed for a few hundred years.
Cut to present day where we’ve been booted out of bed by the potato people empire and shot at by fridge-wearing bankers, space uncle Teshin helps save us from being body snatched by the elderly while Space zombie virus runs out of control because Salad V fucked up,
space mom is busy keeping us away from Grandpa “destroyer of worlds” Hunhow, who hates kids and our edgy amnesiac? brother keeps trying to kill us.
All while absentee Void Dad is now trying to reconnect with “it’s” estranged kids and make up for lost time and that unpaid child support.
I wanted to thank everyone for all the birthday wishes and gifts I am completely overwhelmed by the amount of art and words and messages I got, my birthday has never gotten this much attention ever, I’m sorry for all the caps yelling I’ve been doing these past couple of days hahah I’m just really excited, It is so amazing to think that so many of you took the time to draw or write something for me, I got more art of a character of mine yesterday than I did in all my life together and to see all of your interpretations and styles is the best thing. I’d love to reply to all the messages individually but it would take very long and sadly my birthday was in a busy week, and I also would like to keep them, reading that you find my art inspiring or motivating is also inspiring and motivating for me, I hope this year I will learn so much more and improve my art so I can share more with you, maybe by the time DA4 comes out I’ll be able to paint all of my crazy ideas much better and faster and spam you all with them 😊 thank you so much again for all the support and also!! happy birthday to all my fellow fishes!! hahah so many of you have birthdays on the same day or in a few days difference, I hope you all had great days too!! 💕
Summary: (College!AU) In which you do something for Bucky that brightens his bad day.
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Word Count: 1,923
A/N: An anon requested “reader does something spontaneous and romantic for Bucky that she doesn’t even think of as romantic! And he is just floored by her thoughtfulness.“ This takes place between “The Little Things (Part Two)” and “The Get Together”. Here’s a track list for the CD mentioned in this part.
@avengerstories - thank you for existing and being my very best friend/editor
You’re stuck in the middle of a heated debate between Bruce and Helen Cho about gamma radiation when Steve walks by. He scans the dining hall, letting his gaze fall from one table to the next, before balancing his tray in one hand so he can rub his forehead. As he does, he discreetly scans the room for a second time, reminding you of a lost child desperately seeking out his mother.
"Steve!” You call out, making sure your voice is loud enough to be heard over all the chatter. He turns around immediately, a relieved grin overtaking his features as he walks towards you.
What about omega Steve going into the ice pregnant with alpha Bucky's baby. And they survives with him?
Oh my goodness!
Can you imagine, Steve coming out of the ice in a world that doesn’t make sense and he’s alone, missing Bucky, to find that he’s pregnant. With Bucky’s child. His Alpha. But Bucky’s not here, he’s lost in time, far away and as far as Steve knows, he’s dead.
But then, when he meets the Winter Soldier on that bridge and finds Bucky staring at him. And maybe, Steve’s child, their daughter, happens to be at the bridge too, maybe the timeline is a little different and they were ambushed. But Steve’s not with Natasha and Sam, and he was dropping little Sarah off to stay with Clint (let’s say Natasha and Clint have a safe house together), but got stopped by this strange man.
But as soon as the mask comes off, it’s Sarah who squeals, because she knows her dad, she knows and she runs up to him, “papa! Papa!! You came back, look dada, papa came back, he’s here!”
And Bucky looks down at her and then he sees it all. He sees blond hair, blue eyes, he remembers a man’s skinny body and loving him. He remembers everything before the war, during it and after.
And it’s all by Sarah’s big doe eyes and her scent, the smell of baby powder and Steve’s sweet omega smell, he feels like a key is being put into a lock and suddenly everything is set free.
“Papa!” Sarah smiles, big and dopey, and Bucky stoops to her level and brushes some of her curly hair back, “papa?”
And Bucky’s resolve breaks. He drops his gun and hugs her tightly and he’s crying, and he’s saying, “yeah, I’m your papa, baby girl. I love you so much.”
When he pulls back to get a look at her, she wipes his tears away and kisses her father’s nose and says, “dada’s been really sad without you.”
Bucky looks up and stands, Sarah clinging onto one of his hands, the flesh one, seeing Steve standing there, looking lost and torn.
And Bucky opens his arms and smiles, “yeah, Stevie. It’s me, sweetheart.”
Steve’s walls crumble and he staggers into Bucky’s open arms and sobs. Bucky wraps his arms around Steve and holds onto him, keeping him close and kisses his face all over, their bond mark and then scoops Sarah up and they hug, the three of them. Finally, together.
When my grandfather came home from World War II he had nightmares. He dreamed he was still fighting the Japanese, but in the trees behind our farmhouse. He was only 17 when he enlisted and had never been out of the county. Six weeks later in was in the middle of the wild blue Pacific on a destroyer in the Battle of Midway. He fought on through Okinawa and the dropping of the atomic bomb.
Years later, my father woke us up screaming. I ran into my parents’ room. My dad was twisted up in the bedsheets, on the floor, sobbing wildly like a lost child. He was gone by breakfast time. Mom said he was sick. That’s when she told us about Vietnam and how dad dreamed, just like his father had, of fighting the enemy in the woods behind our house. I remember walking in those trees later, clutching my BB gun. I eyed the old rusted farm equipment and wondered. We visited dad in the VA until he eventually came back home. Only to awaken us again and again.
I never had to go fight in a war. I went to college, moved to the city and got a decent job. A few years ago dad had a stroke and passed away. Last summer mom broke her hip and we moved her into an assisted living facility. We sold the farm so there was plenty of money to see that mom had her own little apartment and was well taken care of.
Before I left, I went back to the farm and buried my father’s and my grandfather’s guns in the grove. A few were probably worth some real money, but I wanted to put them to rest. I was tired of guns.
Burying them became a strange comforting ritual. There is a rhythm in digging a grave. I dug the hole deep and began to imagine and slipped into a dream. I was planting a new kind of crop for a new kind of world. We’d found an alien machine and used it the wrong way. The technology wasn’t for destruction and killing, but for creation. It was all one big mistake. It was well after midnight when I finally covered the hole and lay on top of it, exhausted. I was overcome as I looked up at the silent giant trees and imagined my father’s and grandfather’s fear and horror. It was so peaceful now. I hoped they’d found peace. And perhaps that something wild and new would grow.
The farm’s new owners cut down most of the trees. They built a giant orange storage facility for people to hoard all their excess junk in.
Last week mom fell again and had to have surgery on her hip. I drove out to the old farm. The house is still there but covered with shitty looking vinyl siding. There are two long rows of storage units. It looks like a factory farm. All but a small bunch of trees in the very back corner had been cut down.
I parked and walked around the back. There was a young mom with her child. She was trying unsuccessfully to squeeze a large cardboard box into her little Toyota while wrangling her 3 yr old. “Here, let me help,” I said and grabbed the box. The child made its escape into the underbrush of leftover trees.
“Jacob!” the mom yelled, chasing after him. I folded the flaps of the box and slid it snugly into the back seat.
“Oh put that down,” the woman said. I turned around. The child emerging from the bush, holding an odd large red flower. It was probably the wind but the petals seemed to flutter like wings and for a second I thought it was a bird trying to fly away.
The limousine driver stopped in the middle of the Island’s main square. You sat in the back with your tablet, setting up important meetings and rearranging things the King wanted to have done by the end of the day.
So Hell's Studio Bendy goes out in disguise, generally gets taken for a kid a lot because adults don't usually have those proportions. What if he's trying not to break his disguise (idk he's in a crowded area and doesn't want mass panic or mobs at the living toon/actual demon), but also this person is determined to drag him back to their church to wait while they call his "parents" to come get their lost child and he remembers what happened last time
I kinda really like this idea a lot
It’d certainly be A Situation™. On one hand, He’s surrounded by a bunch of human stranger people, on the other hand this person is trying to take him, a demon, to a church, on the third metaphorical hand said person could potentially notice he only has four fingers in a small cartoonish glove while dragging him to said church. He could probably try to bolt the heck outta there when the person is distracted i guess but wheres the fun and suspense in that.
Edit: on the FOURTH theoretical hand, he doesn’t love being treated like a child and this person is probably kind of pissing him off
(Two things: let it be known that I know nothing about hacking, and that this is canon divergent…but I’m a fanfic writer, so that should surprise no one. :P)
Okay, fiddle with a code here, enter a new algorithm there–whoa, seriously? Someone was trying to trace him? Really?
Louis snorted and ducked through another digital backdoor, leading the tracer astray with a false IP address. Once that was done, he continued on with his work, smirking all the while. This was way too easy at this point–either Louis had gotten way too good at what he does, or his targets just kept getting dumber and dumber. Either way, this was basically child’s play now.
There was a small tap to his arm, and Louis paused.