spinstertheuncommon

[spinstertheuncommon]

actually the best part of the new superman movie is the fact that lois and clark have been dating for only three months because that means clark fell so hard he told her his whole ass secret identity in 90 days. fucking u-haul lesbian behavior.

[spinstertheuncommon]

Gothams Sewist - Second hand suits | Bruce Wayne x reader

Series Masterlist

Tim’s backstory and characteristics are pulling primarily from fannon and my own observations on cannon. It wont perfectly align with anything.

37, - reader is shocked and almost gutted when bruce rocks up with a 13 y/o tim, ready to be robin.

Warning: not proof read at all, discussion of death, cannon typical topics, alooott of cussing.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You haven’t heard from anyone since the funeral. Your little blow up at Bruce may have severed the ties a bit, but you at least thought Dick or Babs would show face, maybe even Jim. But no, nothing. Not even Alfred. Almost 7 months.

Nothing.

You feel lost. Despite your constant onslaught of commissions and odd jobs to complete, there’s no real motivation stirring in you. Seasons came and went, with no destination in your movements, only drifting to get…somewhere. Deep bags line your eyes, scrubbing away your crows feet and smile lines. You haven’t smiled in a while. Not properly anyhow.

Customers understood that someone close to you had his life taken unexpectedly, but no one knew who. A woman came in needing her vegetable patterned apron reinforced. You had to apologise when she came to pick it up and the pumpkin was covered in tear stains.

He was a lost boy seeking the comfort of his mum, only to be sold out to that monster.

I knew he should’ve killed that clown after Barbra’s accident. He’s such a coward.

A coward who came slinking into your shop.

+++

You were lost for words.

Or, more so lost for the beginning of your sentence, for you had plenty of things to say to him.

If this man thinks he can wander in here and ask me a favour then he better bet his ass I’ll-

“I need a favour.”

Oh this bitch.

You glare, longer than you should have. Bruce Wayne, dressed head to toe in your kevlar, hiding behind a cowl you made him, expects any kind of favour after ignoring you for months. It not even if you didn’t try to reach him. You came to the Manor, to the Wayne tower, to any and every public meeting he had, just to get a word with him. For five months you sought out to comfort him, but that worry formed rage, eager to bite and scratch and claw at the deafening wall Bruce insisted be built between you. A wall you became too tired to climb.

“No.” You respond. Sharp, succinct, and to the point. He needs to fight for your trust now, your done.

But then his cape shuffled.

And out popped a pre-teen, with black hair and violently blue eyes.

A ghost stood before you, several kids wrapped into one.

None of them remained who they saught to be, who the could’ve been. All altered through circumstance.

All because of him.

“Oh, hey kiddo,” your voice shakes, and you ignore B completely, scooting yourself fully inline with the kids view, “I know we haven’t met yet but I-“

“I know who you are.” The kid buzzes, speaking as if on the edge of his seat, “you made the Bat suits. And Robin, and batgirl and Nightwin-.”

“Okay, okay, you know me, that’s great. Can you do me a favour real quick? Can you face the street and cover your ears?”

“Umm…” the kid looks at Bruce, a way to ask permission. God you hate how you wanted to stop him, to grab the kid and tell him ‘no! Don’t trust him! You’ll end up dead!’ But instead, all you said was…

“Please.”

Tim didn't trust many adults. All the ones who attended the events his parents allowed him at were egos holding check-books, talking to him, a child, as means to an end; ergo, to get to his parents money. So he learnt to never take anyone's words at face value, even to a fault.

Everyone has ulterior motives, no one would willingly talk to a child.

But your words were weird.

You had motives, he was sure of it, but that pleading look in your face tells him your motivation was to protect him.

He's only seen that in two other people...

Maybe you're alright.

The kid moves, albeit with a small delay, over to the window and the couch underneath it. He crawls onto the couch, and sits down facing out onto the street, dramatically raising his hands to cover his ears in the process.

As soon as you were satisfied with his distance, you turn into something rage full, harnessing the anger he left with you, unexplained.

“Who. The fuck. Is this?” You seethe, pushing yourself up. Your cane swiftly meets your side, hobbling impatiently towards Bruce. “You can’t go a year without gaining another child soldier?!”

"I never intended to recruit anot-"

"Oh recruitment, is that what you call it? Are you kidding?" You still yourself, throwing your cane up to catch it further down the shaft. Handling it as a sword, you push Bruce's chin up with the handle, not letting his eyes slip from you. "This is child engagement, Bruce, you can't keep putting kids infront of guns and knives an- and bombs! I mean, God! Seven months, Bruce! Seven! Jason died in the suit I made for him! And you're gonna put another kid out there? Unbelievable."

Bruce breath shutters. Never have you looked so desolate, so tired. He shouldn't've shut you out, should've left his door open for you. Maybe things would have been different.

“God. I bet you’ve trained him already. You took 6 months to give Jason the go ahead so how long have you had him? Huh? 4, 5 months? Did you even give yourself time to grieve?”

“3 months.”

Mother fucker

“I’ve had Tim under my wing for 3 months. I didn’t search for him, he found me. He hacked the Batcave.”

You shook your head, “Fuck, really?”

“He wanted Dick to come back, saying Batman needed a Robin, but he…he refused, so Tim declared he’d fill the role.”

“Have you adopted him yet?” You scoff, arms folding.

“N-no, he has parents, the Drake family. They’re just… not observant.” It isn’t common to find Bruce stuttering. He only seems to stumble in your presence. Once upon a time you’d catch him, but right now, he’s just hoping you have the patience to let him get back up.

“God, Bruce, stop being so cadgey.” you flop down, perching back at your desk.

Holding eye contact has never been Bruce's strong point, you knew this, so you held it for as long as you could; make him squirm.

Then, you nodded towards the kid.

Bruce, breathless out of fear, goes over, cautionary glances thrown your way. You keep the stone cold demeanour, not showing your cards too early.

He climbs off the couch, caution evident in his face. He may be sneaky but you know what to look for in people who lightly their emotions on their face.

Your head tilts innately, mental-measuring the kid. He was broad for a 12 year old, obviously having had a growth spurt already. You could see the impact Bruce has had in training him, considering the bulk that sits in his calfs and biceps.

“Hey, kid. C’mere.”

With a deep breath of inhaled courage, you inch towards the bottom draw of your desk. Bruce was ready for anything; a baseball bat, knife, gun, hell, even for you to pull your hand out of the draw and just flip him off. But what he didn’t expect was a box.

A white box, closed with a velvet ribbon. You sit it on the desk, rip off the gift tag, and slide it towards Tim. He watches it like it’s gonna jump at him. He looks first to Bruce, asking for safety. But then, he looks to you.

He seeks comfort from you too.

A stranger.

You nod reassuringly, pouting your lips in the direction of the ribbon on top. Tim pulls on it, gentle as a fawn, as it falls delicately from the box. He feels silly, usually being confident and assure of himself. He was brave when hacking Batman, brave when confronting Bruce at a press event, but in front of this person, the one who gifts heroes their suits, he feels unassertive. As far as he knows they’re secure, but it’s different than trusting a vigilante. Trusting you is trusting a random civilian. He doesn’t know how to feel about it.

But when he lifts the box lid, those doubts rush off him like cold water.

That same cold water in turn floods your ears. You couldn’t look at the contents of the box. You thought, for his 16th birthday, that Jason deserved a new suit. One stylish and more grown than his bright colours. One with black leather accents, mirroring Jasons more recent choice of clothing. The gift tag sits crumpled in your hands, pumpkin sticker falling off with every folded edge.

You’ll keep that gift tag for years after.

Little do you know it’s future use.

"You'll take care of this, yeah?" You press, internally hushing your nervous breakdown. You're not going to cry infront of this kid. "There's leather moisturiser in the box, as well as care instructions. Agent A knows how to keep it clean, so he can teach you. But if anything is tight, loose, ripped or uncomfortable, come to me and I'll adjust it, free of charge."

"Thank you..." Tim's chin wobbles, disguising it by replacing the suit back in the box, and pulling it to his chest. He gives you a respectful bow, returning to the caricature of Timothy Drake.

Bruce sought your eyes,

Before he left, Tim turned around, and dashed back to your desk. You thought he was a different kid, one now dressed in blacks and blues. A kid who was so excited to spend more time with the man he looked up to, who now left a legacy no one has survived. You see a different kid in Tim, one desperate to be more than a street rat, one longing for a home. One ripped away from here not even 6 months ago.

You see Tim. Who put himself between a rock and a hard place to escape no mans land. Someone Bruce saw himself in, trapped in a lone home. Tim just wanted something to hope for.

The key moral of a Robin.

Kid did his research.

“I’m sorry to inconvenience you. I just… I just think I could be a great Robin, if given the chance.” He rolls from one foot to the other. Just like Jason would when he wanted a hug.

God he’s too much like him.

“Oh you goose,” you coo, pulling yourself to the edge of your chair, throwing your arms out in a guess. It was a right guess, as Tim barrels towards you, happy to be enveloped in your arms. To him, you were warm. Not like his mother, whose hugs fell too tense, no matter how relaxed she was, and not like his father, who rarely hugged him at all, just pats on the shoulder. You weren’t like bruce either, his hugs a fix for the problem rather than a promise of help. No, your hugs were special. Warm and welcoming. Both soft place to land and a way to bestow energy back into him. He digs his face in your neck, gripping your shirt with childish desperation.

“You’re not an inconvenience, m’k? Never think that in any way you, or the other robins, for that matter, are a burden to me, ‘cause you’re not. I am here for you, unconditionally. The mantel you want doesn’t get a lot of people to lean on, but know come hell or high water i am a person in your corner. Please,” you draw a shaking breath, pulling his face out of your shoulder, enough to see his eyes. His young, tired eyes. “If Bruce makes you feel even the slightest bit unwanted, unheard, or unsafe, you come straight here. If you ever have an issue you think you need to solve yourself, you come here. Even if I'm not home, no matter time of day. I have a kitchen, I have a couch, and I’m all ears, okay?”

He nods, and dives back into your neck for just a moment more of peace. You both seep it in.

He’s the one to pull away, gently jogging to your door, waving at you. You reciprocate the moment, finally looking up at Bruce. He has a pool of longing in his eyes, and you know it’s all eating him inside. But if he won’t let you in, you can’t open your doors either.

So, he’ll have to long a little longer.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I had no idea when to post this. I wanted to flesh out the drama b4 doing all the intros, but i adore Timmie and don’t have the guts or angst in me to write the funeral lmao

Next updates will be fleshing out the drama, promise

-spinster

[spinstertheuncommon]

Just intersex god. Don’t let them stop u 🤷

Taking my cis boy protagonist of a comic I'm planning and turning him into a non binary intersex person. I keep doing this. There is only one thing that can stop me from doing this and its GOD HIMSELF

[spinstertheuncommon]

Apple trend with my doomed Yuri ocs ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

[spinstertheuncommon]

fuck you *deconstructs your objection*

[spinstertheuncommon]

That causal "what am I doing with my life" moment when you're elbows deep in a web search on the 7th page of Google to research the etomology and historical synonyms for a phrase for your short film for uni despite the fact you said it was not going to be historically accurate in the slightest.

The phrase?

"Fuck you".

[spinstertheuncommon]

so yeah I watched that animated kpop movie

[spinstertheuncommon]

Huntrix + Bobby my precious 🤍🤍🤍

Mira is a black cat

Zoey is a bunny

Rumi is a husky with big ass eyes

And bobby is a golden retriever (but i needed someone to be the frog)

[spinstertheuncommon]

Homoerectus? Yeah I get pretty erect when I see my fellow homos

[spinstertheuncommon]

Split Seams and Stitch Pickers - Gotham's Sewist | Bruce Wayne x GN!Reader

Series Masterlist

Summary: After the whole babs was shot, dick confides in reader, saying he doesn't want to live as an extension of batman his whole life.

Reader is 31, Dick is 18/19

Cw: kinda angst, dick has a panic attack and reader helps him the way I am helped through attacks by my mum, so it will not apply to everyone, dad issues.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Never in your life would you have expected to be a parent. You didn't really see that in your plans for the future.

You never hated kids, but never were over consumed with baby fever either. You just made sure the ones around you felt safe in your presence and left it at that.

Most came and went, knowing you as someone to patch them or their clothes up if need be. And when they grew up, turning into teenagers, their angst claimed independence from all adults, including you. But you took it to no heart, knowing they'll come back as formed adults if need be. No harm no fowl.

But somedays, when the teenagers come to you for solace, you absorbed every drop of parental knowledge from every ancestor before you, just to help them.

+++++

"Richard, Hun, I need you to breathe."

Dick arived at your door in shambles. Half his Robin suit on, one shoe completely missing, and gloves definitely on the wrong hands. He was hyperventilating, shaking and crouched in the doorway to the alley, muttering something along the lines of 'needed to get out'.

"He... he doesn't want... he said I... he..." Dick couldn't stop, mind running a mile a minute while you try to assess and assist.

Okay, step one.

You grab under his arms, moving him quickly onto your carpet instead of the wood and metal edge of the door. You may not be as strong as him, but when adrenaline takes over you can throw yourself in their with the best of them. The tension in his legs gives out, resigning him to choked sobbing on the floor. You pull off his gloves, mask and cape, and bundle them in his arms for him to grip instead of pulling at his skin. He does.

Good, step two.

You grab a cup of ice from the kitchenette fridge, and a water with a straw. You hold both out to Dick, having him make the choice himself. He chooses the ice, taking a shaking hand full of cubes and putting them in his mouth.

You wait for a minute, for his breathing to even out, and for him to calm his nerves just enough to stop shaking. He does, just a little.

Okay, now step three.

You hobble up your stairs, grabbing the soft blanket and pillow off of the chair that sits just infront of the landing. You scoot back down to Dick who has now grabbed the water and is drinking it slowly through the straw. You kneal before him, pulling his head to your shoulder, wrapping the blanket around him, and stuffing the pillow behind. You lean him back over, his hand still grip the sleeve of your hood.

"Okay Hun, can you see the stairs?"

He nods, eyes blinking the tears away.

"Good good, can you see my shoulder?"

He nods again.

"Can you see your nose?"

"Yeah.." he gulps, putting the now empty glass on the floor, still gripping you with his other hand.

"Brilliant Hun, now can you see the big red dog?"

"No?" He chuckles, not sure if he should be seeing it.

"Ah, so I'm the crazy one. Good to know." You laugh.

+++++

After moving to the couch in your studio foyer, you and Dick talked about all kinds of bits and bobs, you consciously not bringing up any topic involving hero's or parental figures, having a gut feeling that won't go down well.

As his sniffles subside, the young adult that was hidden behind childhood tears emerged, leaving you to pick through to the rationality admits the emotions to talk through it.

"You ready to talk about it?"

+++++

Each breath keeps him going, expressing the torment he's been feeling towards his work for a while.

"I want to keep going, I-I like saving people...but... his status and serioisness, is like- I don't want that. I don't want to be him... I'm scared of loosing myself in that... suit. Batman is so different from Bruce it... it scares me sometimes."

You pull him closer, gently leaning his head on your shoulder.

"But I don't want to hurt him... maybe I should just stay Robin... take his mantle... keep quiet," He mumbles, hut you snap up.

"No. Kid, never reside yourself for what you think others want. You are not him, Hun, and no one expects you to be. You are his son, and he loves you, but that doesn't mean he want's you to be beside him your whole life. He may not see it, or say it, or fuck even know it, but it's good for both of you to have separate acts- split the seams, if you will."

Dick chuckles, whiping his tears on the back of his hand. He gently pushes his head into your shoulder, as you bring your hand to ruffle his hair.

"Thank you," he whispers, for you to hear or not. He doesn't need to say it loud, he just needed to say it.

He wasn't used to not taking instructions, but it felt good.

+++

Eight weeks later, you're sifting through your mail. It's not common you get anything other than business inquiries and utility bills, but a news paper isn't common. Especially one from a different city.

But there, on the front page of the Blüdhaven Press, was their new hero,

Nightwing.

He was even above the fold.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Lil newsies reference there lol

This took me so long to write for no reason oml

Also reminder that reader is disabled :))

Do not copy, steal, or repost my works!

[spinstertheuncommon]

《A bit of writing I did in a class the other day. It is written from an ocs perspective who is loosing her grip on reality.》

Prompt: the cave you fear houses the treasure you seek...

The cave I fear is long. It masquerades as a man made structure, but cries to be something unshiftable. The dark curtain covers the abrupt entrance; one step in and you're immediately swamped. If you walk in any further, there is a blinding pressure, leaving your ears ringing and sight bleeding white. It’s a cave where you can only go forward, the steep incline at its lip traps any daring escapee.

Many people have been told that the cave homes a frictionless ending, a white-wedding-picket-frence destination. But who am I to strive for it when the mouth of the cave is so desolate of any sunny disposition. Who am I to walk forward when I have never walked prior.

The cave is so different from the sun rays and bay windows they promised. It’s not something to crawl into, despite every urging spirit, dead or alive, compelling me forward. I don’t want to succumb to the fantastical nothing that lies ahead, even if I can't go back to the before.

I want to lay here numb, at the entrance of forever, and waste away without prospects.

I will die alone unrivaled by life.

A frictionless end.

[spinstertheuncommon]

Signal, Black Bat and Spoiler off duty °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

I wonder what they’re talking abt?

(Reference and easter eggs under cut)

Steph is knitting a gift for Damian.

Dukes cardigan and cass’ bag are both knitted by Steph

Cass is wearing Kuromi socks, Steph is wearing My Melody socks

Dukes talking about a stranger being awfully nice to him, while Cass and Steph know that they were flirting with him

Stephanies jacket was once Jasons, but she stole it

[spinstertheuncommon]

Media Melodramatics - Thunderbolts* Reader Insert

Follows the movie plot with slight cannon divergence and contains spoilers

No ship, just oc without a name who is, gender neutral, tall, and British (for some reason idk it just happened when writing this.)

It is a looooongg one today boys

cw: a lot of swearing, mentioning of dead parents and descriptions of death by stroke and cardiac arrest (involving throwing up and convulsing), cannon typical violence, cannon typical topics (mental health, depression, etc), Britishisms, cussing, I use 'gotta' a lot, but it means 'got to'

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

You begun your career as a youth marketing consultant for Brooklyn based politicians at 21 while studying your last year of political science in university. Your foster mums helped you into the field, recommending you as a candidate for the consultant job, and told you that you've gotta push your career from here.

They got your foot in the door, you've gotta open it.

And so, once graduating with your bachelors, you applied to help around the office with campaigns and public facing admin. It took about 4 months, but you were chosen for the job, being told your background in public speaking was what won them over.

Thank you, persistent English teachers.

After 3 years in the roll, your supervisor assigned you to aid the campaigning of an upcoming congressmen of Brooklyn in all things publicity. Being given a job you saw as far more involved than your usual background work, you decided this was your chance to go above and beyond. And boy did it pay out...

Kinda.

Because of your dedication, you were hired as Mr Barnes' personal assistant because frankly, he didn't trust himself not to misspeak and end up sacked.

And since working beside him for the last 6 months, you would agree.

He's horrible at public speaking.

Reporter shouted, "Representative Barnes! As a freshman congressman, any words about today's hearing?"

Mr Barnes, or Bucky, as he has asked you to call him since meeting, freezes, tripping you up and nearly launching you down into his left shoulder, nose first. Something that would've hurt like a bitch, as you've learnt from experience.

Vibranium doesn't offer a soft landing.

"Well, I'm not on the impeachment committee, but the rumours of wrongdoing are very concerning." He slowly stumbles through his words, while you desperately try to stop your face from reacting.

"They're very...uh, very concerning and troubling. A-and I think my constituents in Brooklyn deserve better, so we're going to get to the-uh- bottom of this concerning matter."

Jeeze.

"What Congressman Barnes is trying to say," you gently push forward, face to the microphones, your figure shielding Buckys, "is that while not here to participate in ruling for or against the impeachment of Ms Valentina, she faces numerous accusations that are very destressing, for both congress and the greater nation. If these accusations are proven to be truthful, then we desire for them to be investigated comprehensively, and for those fallen victim to her actions to be thoroughly compensated."

You ready yourself, tucking back behind Bucky, ready to fall into step beside him.

"No further questions, thank you." You push him lightly away from the press with a hand crossed over his back to his right shoulder.

"I've gotta admit, that was painful to watch. Do you want me to get you some coaching? I'm pretty sure your Thursday afternoons are free for the next few weeks," You're generally not one to tease, but Bucky's relaxed energy does leave open air for a lot of poking and prodding from you.

"No, thank you. I think an occasional save is fine with me." He punctuates this by flashing his ID and slipping through the door, you unable to follow with your press status.

"Occasional? Oh you bloody muppet."

* * * * *

"When I said covert I'm pretty sure I didn't say suspicious white van." Bucky says, after you arrived to picked up him and his merry band of key witnesses who could definitely kill you within 2 seconds.

Not that you were scared or anything.

"You wanted covert, and this is the best I could do with your 40 second turn around, you git,” you sneer, "I'm not exactly a super spy with government hookups!"

"Are you not appart of the government?" Yelena remarks, hanging her head over her shoulder with a light pout.

"Not the point.”

"You're sitting in shotgun, y/n, I'm driving."

"No, I call shotgun! Team leaders will have a talk, yes?" Alexi boomed, startling you and Bucky, you more than Buck.

"Okay... y/n, you'll ride in the back."

"Your putting me in the back with... them??"

Bucky shrugged, "He did call shotgun." He then turns, signalling the end to his participation in the conversation, unbolting the cabin of the van for you all to get in.

“Don't want to ride with us, huh? You scared or something?" Walker sassed, coming up to your side in some sort of intimidating power play.

“Or something. Look, Wanker-”

"Walker-"

"-That's what I said. You, along with your mates here, have made my job a whole shitshow right now, so shut your gob or I'll have you shipped off to knowhere, got it?"

John scoffs like you offended him or something, "We're not frie-"

"Don't care!" You yell behind you, stalking into the van.

* * * * *

Deapite your front, you wouldn't describe yourself as brave at any level. Evidently, you'll speak your mind when you see something underhanded or unjust, or have the bravo to ask for a rase when deserving, but sitting in the back of a van with assasins and trigger happy vets? That you definitely didn't make a good impression on? You can't say your skin didn't crawl.

Even so, you ended up in the corner of the van, pressed up on the bench and occupying yourself with admin work, mumbling stuff about ‘absolute tossers’ and ‘bell-ends’. A job's never done, especially when your client just attacked several government vehicles.

Typing and tossing documents, you're sucked into your own world, both fully aware and absorbing your surroundings, but not enough to comment on any of it. That's one of the reasons Bucky liked keeping you around. You can look so absent minded that people will freely speak of secret and or illegal information in front of you just because you're working. Your parents had taken bets on if you had hyperthymesia or not your whole life. Too bad they're both dead.

Your mum went to a stroke, and your dad went into cardiac arrest after the paramedics announced her dead. Quite a scene for a 12 year old, but your foster mums were who got you into your job now, so you're not complaining on that front.

"..and then I have these little widow things." Yelena draws on, each of them bored enough to got through their gear and explain it to each other.

"I remember," John muses, everyones heads bouncing as the van goes over a bumb. "And then I have this 19. The long barrel."

"Oh, wow," Ava ideates.

Yelena, trying to keep any semblance of conversation afloat, says "It's big, it's long."

"Yeah, it's a bit long."

God they're idiots.

You snort. They all turn to you, anticipating some sort of snide comment or something, but you continue on, typing away.

What follows is the most painful minute conversation over a helmet. You felt like exploding, honestly.

"You know, it's strange. I've never met an assasin who's good with words. You're all... horrible at speaking, holding conversations."

They all sit with your words, you included.

"No offence."

"We barely talked to you, how would you know?" Ava gets defensive real quick, you concur.

"I'm paid to listen. And I'm good at pretending I'm not. You're not the only ones, Barnes does it too. You lot are too isolated in yourselves that you're failing at basic human connections."

The mood settled for mere seconds, until Bucky is shouting about a 'plan'.

Drive through the fucking building.

* * * * *

Why were you here? You don't know really, but standing this high up with such a tall view, even from a few steps in makes your knees weak. Heights have never been your thing.

"Isn't it crazy. To think about all the Monumental battles that happened right here where you're standing?" Valentina creeps out, moscatto in hand, from behind the built in bar.

You think about turning around, but you feel the need to be here. A witness, if you will.

Bucky shouts, "Well, it's over, Valentina. This ends today."

"Wow, Congressman Barnes! You know, I never thought you'd have a promising political career, but less than half a term in. Jeez! Sucks to be apart of your political team, isn't that right.... you...tall person... why are you even here?" Her eyes squint, performative to high heaven, ridicule plaguing her eyes. You slink further back in your skin. You really don't know why your here too but it's stings to feel unwanted.

Supprisingly, Walker steps in to interupt your scrutiny, "We're taking you in."

Valentina scoffs with a smile, "Oh I dont think so, JV team, Captain America. Walker." She moves along the line, "Oh, good to see you, Ava. Yelena. You look terrible. Are you sure you're really ready for that Public-facing role you asked me about?"

"Eat shit, Valentina. Where's Bob?"

" Look at you. You're all so adorable. Just think, I send you down there to kill each other, and instead You do me a solid and form a team. Who's this old Santa?"

"I am Alexei Shostakov. The Red Guardian."

"What?"

Ouch.

"Where's Mel?"

You met Mel, briefly. Bucky was shmoozing her over at Valentina's party, more or less unsuccessfully, but as she was exiting the interaction, you slid up beside her. For the most part, you bonded over the strange bounds of your jobs, but you did exchange numbers for both business and personal meets. For coffee and bitching, you know?

"Mel? Oh, Mel, yes. Mel is having a bit of a loyalty issue. But I'm very grateful that she stayed long enough to lure you all In."

This lady is unhinged oh my god she needs that impeachment.

Bucky had the similar idea, walking up, taking her drink away and attempting to arrest her.

Attempt.

Valentina had a dome of energy around her, stopping Buckys hand from reaching her.

"I'm not alone," She brags, "Robert."

Down from the staircase, 'Robert' floats, head to toe in a gold suit.

It hurt your eyes that he had no contrasting texture to draw away from the bright ass reflective surface.

"That's Bob?" Bucky voices, very confused that this is who needed to be protected from everything less than 24 hours ago.

Ava clarifies, "Yes, he's changed a bit."

"It is my great honor to present to you: The Sentry."

"Hi, guys."

Despite towering in the suit he's still dorky as Yelena made him sound.

"All-powerful, invincible, stronger than all The Avengers combined into one, and soon To be known as Earth's mightiest hero.

With a dork-ass name like Sentry and a dork ass suit, you weren't picking up any of the mighty-ness.

"Did you dye your hair?" Ava seemed to also not be taking this so seriously as Valentina wanted.

"Yes, well, it was..."

"Yes, it was my idea. People love a classic hero."

Mmm no.

Bucky shuffles forward "Okay, I'll bite. What's the plan?"

"Haven't you figured it out yet, Bucky? Well at least you're kind and of cute."

"You're not going to hurt people." Yelena didn't ask, she demanded.

"Oh, no. No, I'm not going to hurt people. I'm going to hurt you. You see, the press is on their way up here now and they're going to witness the amazing power of Sentry as he takes out this ruthless group of Rogue agents, thus beginning a new era in which I decide how to keep the American people safe. Answerable to no one. I will be untouchable."

That's never going to happen.

"Sentry, your first mission is to take these criminals out."

Holy fuk it might happen.

Bob shuffles like a pixar nerd, "I don't want to hurt you, guys. Why don't you just surrender?"

"No, you don't want to do this, Bob." Yelena begs, the only one in the room who hasn't stanced up ready to fight. Other than you, I guess.

"You can call me the Sentry."

"Please, don't do this."

Valentina commands, "You don't need to listen to her, Robert. They don't think you're good enough."

God this woman's really getting on your nerves.

"That's not true, remember?" Yelena pleas, eyes fully welling with emotion, "You can trust me, I know you."

"I don't think you do."

Alexei, as long as you've known him, which is not long, is very much an impatient man. As fortold in him not reading the room, and absolutely bulleting towards Bob. "Enough talking! Nobody messes with West Chesapeake Valley Thunderbolts!"

Oh fuck

Chaos erupted and you had no where to go so you ran for the elevator.

Shitshithitshitshithitshit-

You smash the button, looking over your shoulder at everyone else. One by one, the "thunderbolts" get thrown aside, discarded like shoes being kicked aside. Never had you felt your heart race this fast before, but watching your bosses arm get ripped off and him being slamed into a wall would do that. You hold open the doors, as everyone files in, Ava grabbing your arm and pulling you behind her as you here Valentinas words,

"Finish the job, Robert."

You weren't made for this job.

You were gonna throw up.

* * * * *

After getting off the elevator, you immediately go around the corner to loose your lunch. Shaking and sweaty, you crunch over the glass to where Yelena was blowing up at everyone.

"Oh my God, stop! There is no us, there is no us. Look, Bob transformed into that thing and there's nothing any of you can do about it!"

"And what exactly did you do? Because I seem to recall you got your ass kicked way worse than mine."

Yelena throws her arms up, "Yeah, yeah, I suck! I'm terrible. We're all terrible. And you're not a hero, you're not even a good person."

Ava snaps, "Bitch."

Alexei moves between the women, blocking their line of sight of eachother, "Slow down."

Yelena keeps her roll going, "Alexei, I am not your little friend! I haven't heard from you or seen you in a year!"

You move to stand next to Bucky, both of you avoiding Yelenas targeted range.

Walker strides up, "Okay, be nice to him."

"Oh, now you're nice?"

"Is it my turn?"

"No, you know you're a piece of shit, Walker, your family knows it too."

"Jesus."

"We're all losers. And we lost." Yelena storms off, leaving everyone numb.

* * * * *

After Alexei ran off to comfort his daughter, you decided it's time to head home.

"Yeah, Barnes, I'm done for the day. I'll be at the office reporting what Valentina said to Gary, prepare my and your statement, and take a long weekend because I need it."

Bucky mumbles something along the lines of 'fair enough', and pats you on the shoulder as a goodbye.

Then a voice comes from the air.

"Are you tired of fighting?"

Bob- or er, Sentry, calls from the sky, a form absorbing all light. Your heart sinks, knowing you're not safe here, especially when this void creature begins messing with a helpecopter, sending it careening into a building and the building onto the street.

So you run.

You're scooping up civilians left right and centre, pulling them to their feet and away from the carnage.

Over your shoulder, the Thunderbolts rush around, catching falling rubble and stopping empty cars from hurting others.

A wave of saddened calmness washes over you. All these people putting their lives on the line for a world that doesn't respect or help them. Or so you thought.

Because as the dust settled, the surrounding civilians applauded. The Thunderbolts tensed, not used to praise, while the civilians disregarded that.

And they deserve this. Truly they do.

But all you could think was how much therapy this lot needed.

And then you disappeared.

* * * * *

When it started, you didn't realise you were alive. A cold breeze tickled your nose, forcing your eyes open.

You recognise this place, the vast English countryside, a town living on the horizon, just before the swooping hills. The smell of ducks and cows, all living in the paddocks behind you. The cottage house beside you.

You're standing under the car port, watching a lanky pre-teen, with a hill billy gap tooth and 3-size-too-big welly boots, stand on the portch of their home. They're hyperventilating, waving down the ambulance that comes flying through the cottage gates.

There you where, watching younger you in your childhood home, swarmed with sirens and paramedics, as your mum lays on the kitchen tile where she collapsed. The older you leans on the kitchen windowsill, as tween you tries to tell the paramedics what happened, all the while holding the house phone to your ear. You know whose on the other side, in fact, you can see him sprinting through the neighbours paddock.

Your dad bursts in the door, shouting and kicking a fuss. You spin on a dime and start yelling back, all teary and out of breath.

The older you turns around, sliding down to sit on the brick path outside. You lived this, you know what's gonna happen.

Your mums heart will stop.

She'll be pronounced dead.

2:37pm.

Your dad will then begin throwing up.

He will run to the bathroom, locking the door, telling everyone to get out of his house.

You'll be banging on the door when you here his head smash against the glass door of the shower.

His body will collapse infront of the door.

He will be convulsing.

You won't be able to open the door.

A paramedic will drag you way.

The last thing you'll see before passing out is the door opening to your dad,

Pale and dead.

2:46pm.

* * * * *

Coming out of the voids prison was quicker than going in, but had your head full of smoke. You look around, disoriented, but not alone. Down the street you see where the discount superheros were, all huddled around who you where sure was Bob.

Wait not huddled... cuddling?

Huh?

Your phone pulls you back to your body, ringing in your pocket.

"Yeah? Oh! Hey Mama,... yeah, yeah I'm okay. Are you and mum alright?.... yep, no, I'm with Bucky and the others I told you about.... um, uh I'll go ask... yeah thank you."

You hold your phone close to your chest as you jog down the road. Once close enough, you shout,

"Are you all okay? I have my mama on standby, she's a off-duty medic who's like, just around the corner..." You query, slinking towards the group. Bucky turns at your voice, happy to see you back in one piece.

"Yeah, that'll be great, y/n, we should get Bob here checked out."

"What do you mean? I feel fine."

"Even after all that?" Yelena queries

"After what? Wait, what happened?" Bob asks, almost stunned by trauma.

"Yeah... we'll have you checked out..." she trails off, catching the eye of what the rest of the group were looking at.

Or moreso, who they're looking at.

You watch as the ragtag team stalked up to Valentina, like a cat creeping up on a mouse. She escapes through a wall of tarps, and the rest run after her, where you're met with the familiar sounds of flashing cameras and press shouting. You hurry further down the side of the tarps, walking around to see Valentina announce them as 'The New Advengers'.

Holy fuck this is not good

You walk up beside them, standing just away from Bob, whose clapping his heart out. Other than him, no one looked pleased.

* * * * *

You were now stuck.

The only witness to Valentinas whole shitshow without being a new Advenger or appart of her payroll. While able to go to congress and tell them what you know, to anyone else you'd be seen as crazy, and none of the Thunderbolts could back you up. Valentina, with the underground power she now holds, could get you blacklisted from every government office in the country, and have time for lunch.

So, Bucky and Yelena, with their own ownership over Valentina, decided to hire you as the publicity manager and personal assistant for the team. To have you not stranded on the street, but also to hire you as their 'normal person' touchstone. Someone to ground them when they're getting too serious, I guess.

So, now you work as the manager of people who aren't interested in holding their tongue, under a woman who secretes snake oils for a living. Great.

It'll keep you entertained, that's for sure.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

☆☆☆

Hi!

I began writing this while waiting for the end credit scene and finished it quite literally a week later almost to the hour

I'm so bad at making dialogue heavy stories but I tried.

Also if I make a background character you better believe they're gay lol. I love me some lesbian mums that will drop everything to help their child. And the readers uncle from my last post has a husband and 3 kids, one wheelchair bound thank you very much. Do these characters have names? No but they're all gay ehehe.

☆Please do not copy, steal or repost my work!☆

[spinstertheuncommon]

Marvel/MCU Masterlist

♡ - Romantic

♤ - Platonic

♧ - Ongoing

♢ - Complete

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Series

Oneshot/headcannons

♤ PersonalAssistant!Reader x Thunderbolts* = reader was hired to basically help congressman Barnes with admin and public rep, but what happens when they're dragged into the thunderbolts mess?

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[spinstertheuncommon]

Dc Masterlist

♡ - Romantic

♤ - Platonic

♧ - Ongoing

♢ - complete

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Series

♡ ♧ The Gotham Sewist - Bruce x Reader = Who sews the batsuit? Who has the attitude to keep Bruce coming back?

Oneshots/head cannons

♤ ♢ Take me to war - Neglected!Batsis x Batfam = what if Bruce had a daughter he didn't want, that shares name and face of his mother? What if she uses that to fuel her petty revenge on his mistreatment of her?

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[spinstertheuncommon]

Spinster’s Landing Page!

All this is my art!

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Welcome!!!

I post anything i desire, from art to fanfics, random thoughts, poems, ect. I just follow the dopamine!

I am open for asks, comments, reblogs, ect, just know that i am a busy working person so I may take a week or more to reply!

My fic banner images are all sourced from pintrest

I do not write: smut, yandere, hurt no comfort, anything that’s considered a crime against another (exception would be cannon typical crimes and violence), self harm, male reader (im just not that good at it yet)

Please do not copy, steal, or repost* my works!

*meaning do not copy then paste my work to anywhere, not the same as rebloging.

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[spinstertheuncommon]

Media Melodramatics - Thunderbolts* Reader Insert

Follows the movie plot with slight cannon divergence and contains spoilers

No ship, just oc without a name who is, gender neutral, tall, and British (for some reason idk it just happened when writing this.)

It is a looooongg one today boys

cw: a lot of swearing, mentioning of dead parents and descriptions of death by stroke and cardiac arrest (involving throwing up and convulsing), cannon typical violence, cannon typical topics (mental health, depression, etc), Britishisms, cussing, I use 'gotta' a lot, but it means 'got to'

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

You begun your career as a youth marketing consultant for Brooklyn based politicians at 21 while studying your last year of political science in university. Your foster mums helped you into the field, recommending you as a candidate for the consultant job, and told you that you've gotta push your career from here.

They got your foot in the door, you've gotta open it.

And so, once graduating with your bachelors, you applied to help around the office with campaigns and public facing admin. It took about 4 months, but you were chosen for the job, being told your background in public speaking was what won them over.

Thank you, persistent English teachers.

After 3 years in the roll, your supervisor assigned you to aid the campaigning of an upcoming congressmen of Brooklyn in all things publicity. Being given a job you saw as far more involved than your usual background work, you decided this was your chance to go above and beyond. And boy did it pay out...

Kinda.

Because of your dedication, you were hired as Mr Barnes' personal assistant because frankly, he didn't trust himself not to misspeak and end up sacked.

And since working beside him for the last 6 months, you would agree.

He's horrible at public speaking.

Reporter shouted, "Representative Barnes! As a freshman congressman, any words about today's hearing?"

Mr Barnes, or Bucky, as he has asked you to call him since meeting, freezes, tripping you up and nearly launching you down into his left shoulder, nose first. Something that would've hurt like a bitch, as you've learnt from experience.

Vibranium doesn't offer a soft landing.

"Well, I'm not on the impeachment committee, but the rumours of wrongdoing are very concerning." He slowly stumbles through his words, while you desperately try to stop your face from reacting.

"They're very...uh, very concerning and troubling. A-and I think my constituents in Brooklyn deserve better, so we're going to get to the-uh- bottom of this concerning matter."

Jeeze.

"What Congressman Barnes is trying to say," you gently push forward, face to the microphones, your figure shielding Buckys, "is that while not here to participate in ruling for or against the impeachment of Ms Valentina, she faces numerous accusations that are very destressing, for both congress and the greater nation. If these accusations are proven to be truthful, then we desire for them to be investigated comprehensively, and for those fallen victim to her actions to be thoroughly compensated."

You ready yourself, tucking back behind Bucky, ready to fall into step beside him.

"No further questions, thank you." You push him lightly away from the press with a hand crossed over his back to his right shoulder.

"I've gotta admit, that was painful to watch. Do you want me to get you some coaching? I'm pretty sure your Thursday afternoons are free for the next few weeks," You're generally not one to tease, but Bucky's relaxed energy does leave open air for a lot of poking and prodding from you.

"No, thank you. I think an occasional save is fine with me." He punctuates this by flashing his ID and slipping through the door, you unable to follow with your press status.

"Occasional? Oh you bloody muppet."

* * * * *

"When I said covert I'm pretty sure I didn't say suspicious white van." Bucky says, after you arrived to picked up him and his merry band of key witnesses who could definitely kill you within 2 seconds.

Not that you were scared or anything.

"You wanted covert, and this is the best I could do with your 40 second turn around, you git,” you sneer, "I'm not exactly a super spy with government hookups!"

"Are you not appart of the government?" Yelena remarks, hanging her head over her shoulder with a light pout.

"Not the point.”

"You're sitting in shotgun, y/n, I'm driving."

"No, I call shotgun! Team leaders will have a talk, yes?" Alexi boomed, startling you and Bucky, you more than Buck.

"Okay... y/n, you'll ride in the back."

"Your putting me in the back with... them??"

Bucky shrugged, "He did call shotgun." He then turns, signalling the end to his participation in the conversation, unbolting the cabin of the van for you all to get in.

“Don't want to ride with us, huh? You scared or something?" Walker sassed, coming up to your side in some sort of intimidating power play.

“Or something. Look, Wanker-”

"Walker-"

"-That's what I said. You, along with your mates here, have made my job a whole shitshow right now, so shut your gob or I'll have you shipped off to knowhere, got it?"

John scoffs like you offended him or something, "We're not frie-"

"Don't care!" You yell behind you, stalking into the van.

* * * * *

Deapite your front, you wouldn't describe yourself as brave at any level. Evidently, you'll speak your mind when you see something underhanded or unjust, or have the bravo to ask for a rase when deserving, but sitting in the back of a van with assasins and trigger happy vets? That you definitely didn't make a good impression on? You can't say your skin didn't crawl.

Even so, you ended up in the corner of the van, pressed up on the bench and occupying yourself with admin work, mumbling stuff about ‘absolute tossers’ and ‘bell-ends’. A job's never done, especially when your client just attacked several government vehicles.

Typing and tossing documents, you're sucked into your own world, both fully aware and absorbing your surroundings, but not enough to comment on any of it. That's one of the reasons Bucky liked keeping you around. You can look so absent minded that people will freely speak of secret and or illegal information in front of you just because you're working. Your parents had taken bets on if you had hyperthymesia or not your whole life. Too bad they're both dead.

Your mum went to a stroke, and your dad went into cardiac arrest after the paramedics announced her dead. Quite a scene for a 12 year old, but your foster mums were who got you into your job now, so you're not complaining on that front.

"..and then I have these little widow things." Yelena draws on, each of them bored enough to got through their gear and explain it to each other.

"I remember," John muses, everyones heads bouncing as the van goes over a bumb. "And then I have this 19. The long barrel."

"Oh, wow," Ava ideates.

Yelena, trying to keep any semblance of conversation afloat, says "It's big, it's long."

"Yeah, it's a bit long."

God they're idiots.

You snort. They all turn to you, anticipating some sort of snide comment or something, but you continue on, typing away.

What follows is the most painful minute conversation over a helmet. You felt like exploding, honestly.

"You know, it's strange. I've never met an assasin who's good with words. You're all... horrible at speaking, holding conversations."

They all sit with your words, you included.

"No offence."

"We barely talked to you, how would you know?" Ava gets defensive real quick, you concur.

"I'm paid to listen. And I'm good at pretending I'm not. You're not the only ones, Barnes does it too. You lot are too isolated in yourselves that you're failing at basic human connections."

The mood settled for mere seconds, until Bucky is shouting about a 'plan'.

Drive through the fucking building.

* * * * *

Why were you here? You don't know really, but standing this high up with such a tall view, even from a few steps in makes your knees weak. Heights have never been your thing.

"Isn't it crazy. To think about all the Monumental battles that happened right here where you're standing?" Valentina creeps out, moscatto in hand, from behind the built in bar.

You think about turning around, but you feel the need to be here. A witness, if you will.

Bucky shouts, "Well, it's over, Valentina. This ends today."

"Wow, Congressman Barnes! You know, I never thought you'd have a promising political career, but less than half a term in. Jeez! Sucks to be apart of your political team, isn't that right.... you...tall person... why are you even here?" Her eyes squint, performative to high heaven, ridicule plaguing her eyes. You slink further back in your skin. You really don't know why your here too but it's stings to feel unwanted.

Supprisingly, Walker steps in to interupt your scrutiny, "We're taking you in."

Valentina scoffs with a smile, "Oh I dont think so, JV team, Captain America. Walker." She moves along the line, "Oh, good to see you, Ava. Yelena. You look terrible. Are you sure you're really ready for that Public-facing role you asked me about?"

"Eat shit, Valentina. Where's Bob?"

" Look at you. You're all so adorable. Just think, I send you down there to kill each other, and instead You do me a solid and form a team. Who's this old Santa?"

"I am Alexei Shostakov. The Red Guardian."

"What?"

Ouch.

"Where's Mel?"

You met Mel, briefly. Bucky was shmoozing her over at Valentina's party, more or less unsuccessfully, but as she was exiting the interaction, you slid up beside her. For the most part, you bonded over the strange bounds of your jobs, but you did exchange numbers for both business and personal meets. For coffee and bitching, you know?

"Mel? Oh, Mel, yes. Mel is having a bit of a loyalty issue. But I'm very grateful that she stayed long enough to lure you all In."

This lady is unhinged oh my god she needs that impeachment.

Bucky had the similar idea, walking up, taking her drink away and attempting to arrest her.

Attempt.

Valentina had a dome of energy around her, stopping Buckys hand from reaching her.

"I'm not alone," She brags, "Robert."

Down from the staircase, 'Robert' floats, head to toe in a gold suit.

It hurt your eyes that he had no contrasting texture to draw away from the bright ass reflective surface.

"That's Bob?" Bucky voices, very confused that this is who needed to be protected from everything less than 24 hours ago.

Ava clarifies, "Yes, he's changed a bit."

"It is my great honor to present to you: The Sentry."

"Hi, guys."

Despite towering in the suit he's still dorky as Yelena made him sound.

"All-powerful, invincible, stronger than all The Avengers combined into one, and soon To be known as Earth's mightiest hero.

With a dork-ass name like Sentry and a dork ass suit, you weren't picking up any of the mighty-ness.

"Did you dye your hair?" Ava seemed to also not be taking this so seriously as Valentina wanted.

"Yes, well, it was..."

"Yes, it was my idea. People love a classic hero."

Mmm no.

Bucky shuffles forward "Okay, I'll bite. What's the plan?"

"Haven't you figured it out yet, Bucky? Well at least you're kind and of cute."

"You're not going to hurt people." Yelena didn't ask, she demanded.

"Oh, no. No, I'm not going to hurt people. I'm going to hurt you. You see, the press is on their way up here now and they're going to witness the amazing power of Sentry as he takes out this ruthless group of Rogue agents, thus beginning a new era in which I decide how to keep the American people safe. Answerable to no one. I will be untouchable."

That's never going to happen.

"Sentry, your first mission is to take these criminals out."

Holy fuk it might happen.

Bob shuffles like a pixar nerd, "I don't want to hurt you, guys. Why don't you just surrender?"

"No, you don't want to do this, Bob." Yelena begs, the only one in the room who hasn't stanced up ready to fight. Other than you, I guess.

"You can call me the Sentry."

"Please, don't do this."

Valentina commands, "You don't need to listen to her, Robert. They don't think you're good enough."

God this woman's really getting on your nerves.

"That's not true, remember?" Yelena pleas, eyes fully welling with emotion, "You can trust me, I know you."

"I don't think you do."

Alexei, as long as you've known him, which is not long, is very much an impatient man. As fortold in him not reading the room, and absolutely bulleting towards Bob. "Enough talking! Nobody messes with West Chesapeake Valley Thunderbolts!"

Oh fuck

Chaos erupted and you had no where to go so you ran for the elevator.

Shitshithitshitshithitshit-

You smash the button, looking over your shoulder at everyone else. One by one, the "thunderbolts" get thrown aside, discarded like shoes being kicked aside. Never had you felt your heart race this fast before, but watching your bosses arm get ripped off and him being slamed into a wall would do that. You hold open the doors, as everyone files in, Ava grabbing your arm and pulling you behind her as you here Valentinas words,

"Finish the job, Robert."

You weren't made for this job.

You were gonna throw up.

* * * * *

After getting off the elevator, you immediately go around the corner to loose your lunch. Shaking and sweaty, you crunch over the glass to where Yelena was blowing up at everyone.

"Oh my God, stop! There is no us, there is no us. Look, Bob transformed into that thing and there's nothing any of you can do about it!"

"And what exactly did you do? Because I seem to recall you got your ass kicked way worse than mine."

Yelena throws her arms up, "Yeah, yeah, I suck! I'm terrible. We're all terrible. And you're not a hero, you're not even a good person."

Ava snaps, "Bitch."

Alexei moves between the women, blocking their line of sight of eachother, "Slow down."

Yelena keeps her roll going, "Alexei, I am not your little friend! I haven't heard from you or seen you in a year!"

You move to stand next to Bucky, both of you avoiding Yelenas targeted range.

Walker strides up, "Okay, be nice to him."

"Oh, now you're nice?"

"Is it my turn?"

"No, you know you're a piece of shit, Walker, your family knows it too."

"Jesus."

"We're all losers. And we lost." Yelena storms off, leaving everyone numb.

* * * * *

After Alexei ran off to comfort his daughter, you decided it's time to head home.

"Yeah, Barnes, I'm done for the day. I'll be at the office reporting what Valentina said to Gary, prepare my and your statement, and take a long weekend because I need it."

Bucky mumbles something along the lines of 'fair enough', and pats you on the shoulder as a goodbye.

Then a voice comes from the air.

"Are you tired of fighting?"

Bob- or er, Sentry, calls from the sky, a form absorbing all light. Your heart sinks, knowing you're not safe here, especially when this void creature begins messing with a helpecopter, sending it careening into a building and the building onto the street.

So you run.

You're scooping up civilians left right and centre, pulling them to their feet and away from the carnage.

Over your shoulder, the Thunderbolts rush around, catching falling rubble and stopping empty cars from hurting others.

A wave of saddened calmness washes over you. All these people putting their lives on the line for a world that doesn't respect or help them. Or so you thought.

Because as the dust settled, the surrounding civilians applauded. The Thunderbolts tensed, not used to praise, while the civilians disregarded that.

And they deserve this. Truly they do.

But all you could think was how much therapy this lot needed.

And then you disappeared.

* * * * *

When it started, you didn't realise you were alive. A cold breeze tickled your nose, forcing your eyes open.

You recognise this place, the vast English countryside, a town living on the horizon, just before the swooping hills. The smell of ducks and cows, all living in the paddocks behind you. The cottage house beside you.

You're standing under the car port, watching a lanky pre-teen, with a hill billy gap tooth and 3-size-too-big welly boots, stand on the portch of their home. They're hyperventilating, waving down the ambulance that comes flying through the cottage gates.

There you where, watching younger you in your childhood home, swarmed with sirens and paramedics, as your mum lays on the kitchen tile where she collapsed. The older you leans on the kitchen windowsill, as tween you tries to tell the paramedics what happened, all the while holding the house phone to your ear. You know whose on the other side, in fact, you can see him sprinting through the neighbours paddock.

Your dad bursts in the door, shouting and kicking a fuss. You spin on a dime and start yelling back, all teary and out of breath.

The older you turns around, sliding down to sit on the brick path outside. You lived this, you know what's gonna happen.

Your mums heart will stop.

She'll be pronounced dead.

2:37pm.

Your dad will then begin throwing up.

He will run to the bathroom, locking the door, telling everyone to get out of his house.

You'll be banging on the door when you here his head smash against the glass door of the shower.

His body will collapse infront of the door.

He will be convulsing.

You won't be able to open the door.

A paramedic will drag you way.

The last thing you'll see before passing out is the door opening to your dad,

Pale and dead.

2:46pm.

* * * * *

Coming out of the voids prison was quicker than going in, but had your head full of smoke. You look around, disoriented, but not alone. Down the street you see where the discount superheros were, all huddled around who you where sure was Bob.

Wait not huddled... cuddling?

Huh?

Your phone pulls you back to your body, ringing in your pocket.

"Yeah? Oh! Hey Mama,... yeah, yeah I'm okay. Are you and mum alright?.... yep, no, I'm with Bucky and the others I told you about.... um, uh I'll go ask... yeah thank you."

You hold your phone close to your chest as you jog down the road. Once close enough, you shout,

"Are you all okay? I have my mama on standby, she's a off-duty medic who's like, just around the corner..." You query, slinking towards the group. Bucky turns at your voice, happy to see you back in one piece.

"Yeah, that'll be great, y/n, we should get Bob here checked out."

"What do you mean? I feel fine."

"Even after all that?" Yelena queries

"After what? Wait, what happened?" Bob asks, almost stunned by trauma.

"Yeah... we'll have you checked out..." she trails off, catching the eye of what the rest of the group were looking at.

Or moreso, who they're looking at.

You watch as the ragtag team stalked up to Valentina, like a cat creeping up on a mouse. She escapes through a wall of tarps, and the rest run after her, where you're met with the familiar sounds of flashing cameras and press shouting. You hurry further down the side of the tarps, walking around to see Valentina announce them as 'The New Advengers'.

Holy fuck this is not good

You walk up beside them, standing just away from Bob, whose clapping his heart out. Other than him, no one looked pleased.

* * * * *

You were now stuck.

The only witness to Valentinas whole shitshow without being a new Advenger or appart of her payroll. While able to go to congress and tell them what you know, to anyone else you'd be seen as crazy, and none of the Thunderbolts could back you up. Valentina, with the underground power she now holds, could get you blacklisted from every government office in the country, and have time for lunch.

So, Bucky and Yelena, with their own ownership over Valentina, decided to hire you as the publicity manager and personal assistant for the team. To have you not stranded on the street, but also to hire you as their 'normal person' touchstone. Someone to ground them when they're getting too serious, I guess.

So, now you work as the manager of people who aren't interested in holding their tongue, under a woman who secretes snake oils for a living. Great.

It'll keep you entertained, that's for sure.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

☆☆☆

Hi!

I began writing this while waiting for the end credit scene and finished it quite literally a week later almost to the hour

I'm so bad at making dialogue heavy stories but I tried.

Also if I make a background character you better believe they're gay lol. I love me some lesbian mums that will drop everything to help their child. And the readers uncle from my last post has a husband and 3 kids, one wheelchair bound thank you very much. Do these characters have names? No but they're all gay ehehe.

☆Please do not copy, steal or repost my work!☆