New Ocs!!!

new ocs!!!

hi gang!!!!!!!!!!!! i've been hinting at more characters for a bit and HERE THEY ARE!!! i might try to use the whumperless event to intro them a bit more, but if anyone has any drabble requests until then feel free to send em in! and if you have any clarifying questions, PLEASE ask them!!!

as you can tell, i love westerns. i love cowboys. i NEEDED a cowboy/wild west setting to whump in so i made these guys (yes i am aware their color palletes are just simon and archie in a different font. i am a one trick pony.)

sidenote: rdr2 fans, you're gonna love this (these two are practically rdr2 ocs) (′ꈍᴗꈍ‵)

onto the boys (men?? we'll go with men.) this post is embarassingly long. strap in guys.

picrew here (though i couldn't find one that captured their looks the way i envisioned.... sigh i need to start drawing again. anyways, i included some outfits to go along with them!

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eugene (gene) delaney

age: 28

height: 6'2

occupation: deputy sherriff (his town is called Whiteridge)

description: gene is. well, for lack of better words, he has a stick up his ass. that is to say that he is very particular about things, namely the safety of his town and the activities that go down in it. he cares very much about keeping the streets safe from gangs and criminals because his mother was killed by a gang when he was just a child and he knows the dangers of having bad people run around unrestrained. also, the sherriff he works under is crooked and useless, so gene is left with a lot of responsibility in terms of managing Whiteridge. he's strong-willed and intelligent, but very morally conflicted about many things. he wants whats best for his people, but is controlling everything with an iron grip really the best way to go about it?

here is his outfit that you'll usually see him in!

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cassidy "silver" mccoy

age: 27

height: 6'0

occupation: outlaw/one of "montana's boys"

description: cassidy gets his nickname "silver" from his silver tongue. he's been known to talk his way out of death more times than he can count. he runs with a gang lead by a man named welles montana, and he is one of montana's most respected men. he was taken in by montana when he was very young, and believes he owes him his life. he trusts him blindly and is convinced evetything he does is for a good cause, even if sometimes it's questionable. he greatly enjoys his job and loves seeing the fruits of his labor in the form of hungry kids getting to eat for the first time in weeks, or single mothers able to afford a new dress. he did not grow up wealthy, so what he does is very personal. despite wanting to appear smooth and charismatic, he is a deeply feeling person that sort of lets his emotions rule him.

here is his typical outfit!

a bit about montana's gang: they lead robin hood-esque type heists where they exclusively take from the wealthy to give to the poor, but their methods are often violent and destructive. also, montana himself is not a very good man but cassidy doesn't necessarily know that. montana is sort of leading a double life where he spends part of his time with his gang and the other part with the wealthy assholes they're trying to take down. none of his gang know he is getting the best of both worlds and betraying them all. he's very manipulative and acts as a whumper in this story. cassidy is at his beck and call, and follows orders often without question.

also, there is a rival gang lead by a man named o'malley. they are your typical old western gang with no strict morals, sort of just trying to get the most money they can. members of o'malley's gang act mostly as whumpers as they are much more harmful and destructive than montana's boys, and have it out for cassidy specifically.

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their relationship/more background info:

cassidy and gene have a bit of a cat and mouse thing going on. cassidy often pulls heists with his boys in plain sight and since gene is the deputy, he's the one sent to bring him into custody. the two spend quite a bit of time together because of it. (cassidy is an escape artist. he is never locked up for more than a few days. gene hates this.) to gene, cassidy is infuriating. he believes you can't fight fire with fire and that cassidy is just causing more problems with his violent approach to "helping others"

cassidy on the other hand, loves to tease and provoke gene. when they first meet, it's while cassidy is locked up in a jail cell. he clocks how "stuck up" gene is, and sees it as a challege to try and piss of gene as much as he can and get away with it. he knows and he and gene actually have very similar goals: protect the people that can't protect themselves, but gene's approach feels too slow and ineffective to cassidy. still, he respects his dedication and never actively wants to cause him harm. regardless, cassidy's loyalty to montana is stronger than any respect he has for gene (AT FIRST), so the two have an enemies-to-friends-to-lovers type thing going on

as for a silly detail, even though the two men are less than fond of eachother, their horses are infatuated with eachother. they seriously have the biggest crushes on eachother, and make it known that they are upset when they have to be seperated.

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BONUS here are their respective horses:

this is calliope, gene's mare. she is sweet as sweet can be, very gentle and extremely, totally spoiled by gene.

this is scotch, cassidy's gelding. he is opinionated and stubborn and only answers to cassidy (and even then, it's only about half the time)

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thank you so much for listening to be ramble! i plan to have at least one fic of these guys during the event, maybe more, but i'm honestly so excited for them. i've been wanting to make ocs like them for a LONG time and here they finally are!! i hope you all enjoy!

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HI KIA! ok so. i know you didnt post the ask game but i was just wondering if i could ask one question from it to your darlings... /nf

for both morri and jj, 12) does your oc enjoy a particular gesture of affection? does it calm them?

completely no pressure!! if you dont wanna answer dont worry about it!! i just saw the question and the gears started turning about your sillies....

HIYA BUG!!! no worries I am always glad seeing you in my askbox do not fret. i am happy to answer. enthused, even. /gen

JJ: He finds physical affection a bit stifling or claustrophobic at times, so having Morri around is a good way to mitigate that as they don't seem to register it much. However. There's just something about hands to him. Holding hands, covering their hand with his for comfort, that thing where you both grab each other's wrists--it's just immediately grounding, and it's easy for him to feel comfortable with.

Morrigan: Well, they're not programmed to enjoy things, they're programmed to do things. So they find any contact or gesture entirely neutral, especially when they were first made. But JJ has an endearing habit of asking before doing. "Can I touch your arm?", "Can I check your bandages?", "Can I see your hand for a sec?", all these little moments that treat Morri as something more than a machine. The contact itself doesn't do much. But the constant reassurance that JJ cares to ask first? That makes them feel more human than anything.

thank you for the ask!!!! you are the best bug :D

ok THIS IS MY LAST REQUEST OF THE NIGHT so please take your time if you can’t do it rn but i’ve genuinely LOVED seeing your prompt fills this is so so so fun and im so happy

okay this time it’s jj’s turn to be whumped because he has had it far too good for far too long (for 2 fics)

a scenario that immediately comes to mind is jj with a NASTY fever. i’m talking an utterly debilitating fever that he has to push past for some reason, and morri only notices/realizes when they find him asleep at his desk/wherever makes sense, looking absolutely exhausted and practically delirious because his body just… couldn’t keep up anymore

preferably fluffy if you’re in the mood, but it it takes angst to get to that fluffy ending it’s a sacrifice i’m willing to make

my deepest apologies bug it turned out more angst than fluff. however. you are totally right and JJ needed the worst fever known to man.

here you go!!!

--

The worst part about it all, is that he's alone.

Journey is a team player, usually. Especially before he was iced. JJ was a confident leader, a warm director, he knew people's strengths and how to protect them. He always had someone to fall back on. But the Cages were stretched thin, and they needed information, desperately.

Breaks aren't common when you're the Hero of the City. So Journey persists, and JJ shivers uncontrollably in his jacket.

He walks as quick as his legs will let him through the halls, pleading the forces that be to keep everyone else away from him--he wouldn't be any good at acting like he's meant to be here.

Morrigan would be better at this. Morrigan would be unbothered by the heat trapped between his jacket and skin, and how it does nothing to soothe the wracking shivers down his spine. Morrigan would be in and out, no problem, like they've done a thousand times before.

But Morrigan had a different mission. So JJ is alone.

Terribly, horribly, alone.

His breath hitches. God, he wishes he was at home right now. But he takes a left, scurried down a hall, and meets the first door.

He pulls up a stolen keycard from the guard he knocked out on the way in, and it buzzes. He pushes through into a connecting room, with plain white chairs like waiting rooms.

JJ moves onward and to the right, and pulls out a burner phone. The next door opens when he presses the fake code of an eye into its lense--something Morrigan cooked up on their own--and he swings it open, pulling the jacket tighter around him and shaking his head against the sudden onslaught of dizziness.

Glancing around, he finds the desk.

Perfect.

This is a science officer's desk. There's a diploma hung on the wall, signed with scribbly writing, and there's several papers and clipboards sprawled about the poorly lit and moderately cramped room. He stalks over, and begins snapping photos of as many pages as he can.

Morrigan would just be scanning them. They'd have the information downloaded.

God, he's fucking useless.

"Keep going," their voice whispers. "The only way out is through. You're almost through."

He wants to cry. His hands are shaking. He can't take a breath. Everything's too cold and too warm and he's dizzy and he just wants to go home, go to Morrigan, go to sleep.

He snaps the last photo.

"Okay. Out. There's a service elevator."

If it weren't for the fear pressing against his throat, JJ would be worried about hearing voices. But he can't help the wave of relief he gets and the thought of maybe, maybe not actually being alone.

Service elevator. Check. With raw and desperate strength, he pries it open and carefully grabs the cables, wrapping his legs and arms securely. The journey down is a long one. But he's never one to shy away from something difficult.

Even if he really, really wants to.

By the time he's sitting on top of the elevator car, there are tears in his eyes, his limbs are completely numb, and he nearly collapses when his legs give out. But somehow, he pulls the emergency door open. Somehow, he slides down into the car.

"Almost there," someone whispers, and he can't tell if it's him or Morrigan.

He presses the ground floor button. The rocketing of the car makes him want to vomit, but he grips the handles as tight as he can, and waits it out.

The doors open. JJ tries to put on a brave face.

Marching through, as quick as his wrecked limbs carry him, he keeps his head down and takes gulping breaths. Fresh air would be so nice right now. So would being at home. So would...

"Sir, are you alright?"

It's the lady at the front desk. She's standing, watching him approach with concern.

He nods shakily, not stopping. "Peachy."

"Wait, hey! You look really pale, you should sit down, I can call someone--"

"I, uh, live not far from here, I'm fine," he tries to reassure through the thick tongue in his mouth, "I'm going, I'll be out of your hair soon."

"Sir--"

JJ picks up speed and throws open the doors to the big city. The fresh air is nice, pushes away some of the vertigo, but the horrible trembling that takes over his body is much, much worse.

"Left turn on 17th," Morrigan's voice urges. "You're out of the hard part. Now you need to get home."

The walk to his apartment is arduous. It's long. Chicago is not a small city, he knows this, but he'd give anything to be living in some bullshir farm in South Dakota again, where the market is three blocks away from his house, where his brothers could carry him, where home is.

When he finally stands in front of the door to his apartment, he doesn't know where he is.

A scramble for his keys, a few more steps, and the warmth of his living room finally catches the cold off guard. For a small, brilliant moment, he is finally warm.

The exhaustion hits him. His legs give out.

"Morrigan," he whispers. He clutches the side of his couch, eyes fluttering shut against the sudden spinning of the room. "What do I do now?"

Something inside him reminds him--he has to report back on the mission. He's not done. God, when can he be done?

JJ furrows his brows, grits his teeth, and forces himself up off the floor. His feet drag. He places both hands firmly on his desk, and collapses into his chair, pulling out the burner phone and locking it away in the drawer.

He grabs a pencil. His eyes blur. He begins to write.

--

Morrigan has blood on their cheek. It's not a big deal, certainly not theirs, but it's quiet obvious and hard to hide. They'd wipe it off, but JJ has a sink they can wash their face in.

They're closer to his apartment than their own underground room. And they have a key, anyway.

The door is unlocked.

Morrigan shifts their posture into something defensive, and gently pushes into the room. Their eyes dart quickly around, cataloging the untouched mess of clothes on the couch, the handful of dishes drying on the rack--

Oh, JJ.

"Hey. Jace. Wake up." They're by his side in less than a second, shaking his shoulder, hot to the touch.

He moans, and shifts, but doesn't wake, instead revealing the notepad on the desk. Written in messy handwriting, repeatedly, is, "I want to go home."

Oh, Jace. What did you do?

Morrigan throws open the bedroom door and shoves off a pile of clothes, pulling the covers back. They find a glass and fill it with water, and grab a bottle of Tylenol to set on the nightstand.

Returning to the living room, they hoist JJ up into their arms in a fireman's carry.

Jace is warm. Too warm. They can feel the muscles twitch in an attempt to reorient himself, help Morrigan carry him, but all it does is send a wave of trembling down his body.

Morrigan tucks him in. "Journey, report."

It's a cruel way to wake him. It works nonetheless. JJ's eyes snap open, and the dilated pupils blow wide. He glances around. "Sir."

"Tell me what happened."

"Mission successful. One witness post-seizure. Burner phone protected. No injuries, or property damage. One guard neutralized, no fatalities." His eyes are glazed over, and he mutters it with slurred words, like he's said these things half a million times.

Even five years asleep can't get rid of thorough training. Morrigan's chest hurts.

"JJ, you're home safe. You don't need to be Journey right now."

"Mmm?"

The sound is heartbreaking. It's partially a whimper, like he thinks it's too good to be true. Like it's a test.

Morrigan threads their fingers through his hair, as gently as they can manage through the sweat-soaked strands. "It's me, Jace. Come back, okay?"

JJ leans his face into their hand and whines. "Not here. You're not 'ere. Just imagining it."

"I'm right here. You need to take some medicine, okay?"

"'Kay, Morri." JJ starts to get up.

"Hey, no, I have it here--" Morrigan pushes his chest back into the pillows, and grabs the pill. "Here. Open?"

His jaw drops. He looks up at him, dumbstruck. "Morri?"

They hum, grabbing the water too. "Yes, JJ?"

"You're really here?"

"In the fabricated flesh."

There's a hitched breath. Morrigan glances over, and sees a tear fall down his cheek.

They nearly drop the glass, reaching over to take his face in their hands, looking them over. "Jace, what's wrong?"

"Don't feel well," he mutters. It's as honest as he's ever been. Which is deeply concerning.

"I'm here," they soothe. "I'll take care of you."

He grabs their hand, tightly. "'Kay."

"Now take your medicine, and then you can go to sleep."

"Won't leave?" he asks, looking up through already half lidded eyes. "Please?"

"I'm not going anywhere," Morrigan promises. "Not for the world."

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i don't usually do POV switches but this one felt necessary. this was so fun to write. i love my guys!!! i love them so much!!!!

thank you for the asks bug!!! always feel free to send more, it's so much fun to trade guy rambling with you! :DDD i am sorry it wasn't as fluffy. but JJ seems to be very sad when he's sick. morri cuddles him later. i decree it so

oh heck I love her so much

I don't know if you've talked about this yet, but what is the significance of JJ's strawberry earrings?

great question!!! they're a gift from his sister, the youngest in the family, to remind him of her while he's gone. i wrote a teensy drabble on this because I adore them.

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JJ finds her under the Kingtree.

It's not hard to know when something's wrong with her. She deflates like an overmixed macaroon, curls into herself, and then runs to watch the sky move above her head, to remind her the world still turns. So he's patient, and lets her breathe, before taking a seat beside her.

"Hey."

Sera doesn't look right away. She's not crying. Just watching the clouds cover the stars. "Hi."

"Everything okay?"

A soft grin. "Remember when you fell out of this tree?"

He's still got the click in his knee to prove it. "I thought we moved on from that?"

"And Ma said we can't play King of the Hill with it anymore?"

"So Holden called it the Kingtree to make fun of me, yeah, I know, it's not my finest moment." He's grinning though, especially at the light in her eyes.

It dies slowly, and she finally looks at him. "You remember when your friends built us a swing on the old barn for me, because I wanted one?"

"Yeah, Berry, I do," he reassures. "What's this about?"

"And when you taught me how to make lasagna, but misread the sauce jars and accidently learned that pizza sauce makes a great addition to pasta?"

"It's a staple. I meant to do it, surely."

"When you put me on your shoulders to run through the fields? When we danced in the street, you twirled me so I could see my skirt spin? When Holden and Luke and I surprised you with a car on your birthday?"

He takes her hand, threads her fingers through his. "Yeah. I remember."

"Good." She stares him down. All fight, all fire, all the sweet and spice of cinnamon cookies. "Cause you better not forget about us."

"Of course not--"

"You're moving," Sera says matter-of-factly. "When Luke had a kid, he lost contact for months. Holden still won't text me back. You can't forget about me."

"Berry, I won't," he promises, tucking her into his shoulder. "And if I do, home will remind me."

"Here."

Sera opens his palm, and presses something into it. She closes his fingers around it, keeping it hidden even in the barest hint of the sunrise.

"What's this?" JJ asks.

"A gift. So you know home is waiting for you. We all are."

"You didn't have to give me a gift, Ser--"

"I wanted to," she says firmly. "Because you're my brother. And you're the best of us. So you're going to do great things, and then you'll call me and tell me what happened. Okay?"

She's fierce. Her voice is threaded with a strength built on love, on the stable, steady growth of her family around her. On how the sun rises on the farm, and everything turns yellow, turns gold.

"Okay," JJ whispers, and it's hard to say more.

"I love you, Jace."

She throws her arms around him. He buries his face in her shoulder and breathes the cinnamon.

Around them, the sun rises, and the grass turns to gold beneath their feet. And when he opens his fist, he finds a pair of earrings--red like her hair, gold like the sun. A pair of little strawberries.

It's the first time he cries before leaving.

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sorry she is very important to both me and JJ so I hope this is satisfactory!!! i really wanted to write a little bit of his siblings. you get names for them now too!!!

no one asked nor requested this but. i had to. i promised a sickfic and i had to deliver because i am finally feeling vaguely ok enough (-｡-;)

please enjoy this little fluffy moment between my boys that are definitely totally just friends and nothing else

whumpee: Simon

caretaker: Archie

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The catalyst had been Simon’s shift in the pediatric unit.

Contrary to what most people might think, Simon actually really loved kids. He found working with them to be very entertaining, and they tended to bring out a softer side of Simon.

It’s just that, well, he was assigned to the pediatric unit in January, the height of flu season.

Now, Simon prided himself on being a very healthy man despite some of his unhealthier habits. He may not sleep as often as he should, but he drank lots of water and ate well and got his flu shot every year.

So when he came home from his shift feeling a little more run-down than usual, he chalked it up to skipping a cup of coffee in the morning and moved on.

He made himself a hasty dinner (a leftover bowl of microwave mac ‘n cheese from the night before) and settled into the couch, content to nap the rest of the day away in preparation for his shift tomorrow, when suddenly his phone chimed.

It was a text from Archie.

[Hey Simon! Just checking to make sure we’re still on to go see that movie tonight? I just emailed you your ticket!]

Fuck.

Simon had completely forgotten about his plans with Archie. Plans that had been in place for nearly two weeks now. Plans that took place in thirty minutes. Flaking was out of the question. No, Simon couldn’t do that to Archie, not after he finally agreed to take a day off of patrol to do this with him.

Simon dragged a hand across his face and groaned lowly. He shot Archie a quick reply of confirmation and let his phone slip from his hand.

He could sleep when he was dead. He could power through a few more hours, surely.

He got up and reluctantly made his way to his bathroom to get ready. The reflection in the mirror looked.. off. His hair was mussed and his entire face was paler than he’d seen in a while, save for the red splotches high on his cheeks. The dark circles that were ever-present were somehow even darker and more pronounced. He looked terrible.

Simon blinked dazedly at the mirror before spurring into action. He doused his hair with water and combed out all the tangles. The wet hair on his neck made him shudder. Then, he quickly splashed his face with cold water to eke more color into it and changed out of his scrubs and into his shirt. 

Once he deemed his appearance acceptable, he texted Archie that he was on his way and locked his door behind him.

••••

Simon arrived at the theater feeling even worse than he had before.

It was with great shame that he silently admitted to himself that he may have picked something up from work.

Now, to go along with the exhaustion, was a vicious chill that clamped around his body and had him pulling his knit sweater even tighter around himself. He also had a splitting headache that made it hard to think and he felt vaguely nauseous, but he elected to ignore that particular symptom.

Just a few more hours, Guevara. You can do this.

He straightened and put on a brave face before finding Archie standing outside the theater and walked right up to him.

“Simon! You made it!” Archie chirped, practically bouncing over to him. “God, I’m so excited. I’ve been wanting to see this movie for months!”

Simon smiled, and despite everything, it wasn’t forced. They were going to watch some new murder mystery movie-- not necessarily a movie Simon would have picked out himself, but seeing Archie so riled up made it worth it.

“Well what are we waiting for? Wouldn’t want to miss those trailers, would we?” Simon managed, leading the way for Archie. He walked in front, mostly so he could hide his sickly appearance from Archie until they were in the dimly lit theater.

Soon, they were situated in the fold-up seats with a big bucket of popcorn. Archie was practically vibrating with excitement, and as much as Simon wanted to match the energy, he could feel himself deteriorating.

He was regretting not washing his hands more often with those kids.

His entire body was hurting now. His headache was raging on, even when the lights shut off for the beginning of the movie. His eyelashes felt like they had weights on them.

Simon tried to stay awake, he really did. Archie had been looking forward to this little outing for so long, and the last thing Simon wanted to do was make his illness known and ruin the evening.

He tried various methods-- biting his tongue, digging nails into his palm, adjusting his position every five seconds-- but he found that his efforts were in vain.

Soon enough, his eyes drooped shut and his head lolled forward.

He hoped Archie would be too enthralled in the movie to notice.

••••

The first thing Simon registered when he woke up was someone shaking his shoulder, and the blurry silhouette of credits rolling on the movie screen in front of him.

“Simon? Hey, wake up. Are you okay?” Archie’s voice filtered in.

Simon groaned softly and scrunched his eyebrows together at the disturbance. He felt a hand settle on his forehead, then slide down to his cheek, and finally his neck. He couldn’t help but lean into the cool touch.

“Oh Simon.. You’re burning up,” Archie cooed, smoothing some hair away from Simon’s sweaty brow. “Why didn’t you say anything..?”

Simon’s head slumped forward as he groaned again. He was having trouble focusing on Archie’s voice, let alone what he was saying. He felt so groggy. Usually he could bounce back from a nap with no problem, but presently, every muscle in his body was screaming at him to curl up and go back to sleep.

He whined lowly. Not only did he feel so miserable, but he had knocked out for the entirety of the movie Archie waited months to see. He had to be the worst friend ever. He hoped Archie would forgive him.

“Hey, it's okay! We can rewatch it another day! Lets just get you home, okay? I’m going to carry you,” Archie declared, adjusting himself a bit.

Something about this didn’t compute. Simon knew he was taller than Archie. There was no way he would be able to carry him all the way to the parking structure where he parked. It couldn’t be possible.

“I have super-strength, silly,” Archie whispered with a soft laugh. “Carrying you feels like carrying a carton of milk to me.”

Oh right. Super-strength. Made sense.

Simon didn’t have too much time to dwell on it before his center of gravity suddenly tilted and he was pressed close to a warm body.

Instinctively, he curled up against it. He let his head fall on Archie’s shoulder and draped his arm around his neck. Archie was so warm and he felt so cold. It was heavenly to be so close to him.

“Someone’s clingy,” Archie mused, beginning the gentle walk to the car.

The process of getting to the car went by in a blur, but Simon was eventually settled in the passenger seat, his own sweater draped across his legs and Archie’s pulled up to his chin.

“Get some sleep. I’ll carry you into the apartment when we get there.”

Simon slept.

••••

The next time Simon woke up, he was laying on Archie’s couch with a thick Darth Vader print blanket. Despite this, he was somehow still shivering. 

“Oh, you’re awake!” Archie smiled as he crouched next to Simon and brushed a knuckle over his brow. “Still warm. I wanted to wait until you woke up to give you medicine.”

Simon blinked. Something felt wrong. Archie shouldn’t be the one doing this. This was one of his rare days off where he let himself just be a person. He shouldn’t be stuck looking after a med student who failed to take the proper precautions during his residency.

Simon couldn’t allow it.

He sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. His arms shook as he pushed himself up.

“No. I’m fine.. Archie.. you should be relaxing.. it’s.. your day off,” Simon managed, yanking the blanket off his legs, only to be met with a ferocious shiver that overtook his entire body.

Archie didn’t react. He only calmly guided Simon back to the couch and covered him with the blanket yet again. Simon couldn’t help but be grateful.

By the look on Archie’s face, Simon had a vague idea that in his previous feverish hazes, he had tried to escape as well.

“Respectfully, if anyone needs to relax here, it’s you. You can hardly even stand,” Archie said firmly, running a hand through Simon’s sweaty hair.

Simon shuddered at the touch and melted, letting his eyes fall closed once again to avoid eye contact. Damn it Archie. Stop making this harder than it needs to be.

“Simon.”

Archie’s voice was more intense than Simon had heard it in a long time, and he forced himself to meet his gaze.

“I truly can’t think of a better way to spend my day off. Let me take care of you. Please? You always do it for me,” He half-whispered, the intensity replaced with a quiet plea.

Simon didn’t respond. Instead, he pulled the blanket tighter and leaned into Archie's hand as it combed through his locks. 

Fine. If that was how it was going to be, oh well.

Archie smiled at Simon’s silent acceptance, and leaned over to kiss the top of his head.

“Get some rest. I’m going to go warm up some soup and get you some ibuprofen.”

Simon sleepily watched him disappear into the kitchen, looking nearly as excited as he did at the start of the movie.

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I love her with my heart and soul

I was talking to @thedustyleaves about bnha OCs and we came up with this gal, who’s well, a pillbug. don’t really know anything else about her yet. it’s not a very useful quirk, all she can really do is bunch up into a ball and roll around really fast :V oh and the plates on her back are hardened enough to deflect most blades.