#Just a fucked up kid and his three fucked up dads
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iamleesi ยท 3 days ago
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๐‚๐”๐‘๐ˆ๐Ž๐’๐ˆ๐“๐˜ ๐Š๐ˆ๐‹๐‹๐„๐ƒ ๐“๐‡๐„ ๐‚๐€๐“ โ˜ ๏ธŽ
๐๐š๐ข๐ซ๐ข๐ง๐ : ๐๐ฎ๐œ๐ค๐ฒ ๐๐š๐ซ๐ง๐ž๐ฌ ๐ฑ ๐…๐ž๐ฆ!๐‘๐ž๐š๐๐ž๐ซ
๐’๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐š๐ซ๐ฒ: ๐€๐Ÿ๐ญ๐ž๐ซ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ ๐›๐จ๐ฒ๐Ÿ๐ซ๐ข๐ž๐ง๐'๐ฌ ๐๐ž๐š๐ญ๐ก, ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ ๐ฆ๐จ๐ฏ๐ž๐ ๐ฌ๐จ๐ฆ๐ž๐ฐ๐ก๐ž๐ซ๐ž ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ ๐ฐ๐ž๐ซ๐ž๐ง'๐ญ ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ฉ๐ฉ๐จ๐ฌ๐ž๐ ๐ญ๐จ.
๐–๐š๐ซ๐ง๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ฌ: ๐Œ๐ž๐ง๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐๐Ÿ‘๐š๐ญ๐ก, ๐ ๐ซ๐ข๐ž๐Ÿ, ๐œ๐ซ๐ž๐ž๐ฉ๐ฒ ๐ฌ๐ญ๐ฎ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ. 18+
๐€/๐: ๐“๐ก๐ข๐ฌ ๐จ๐ง๐ž ๐ข๐ฌ ๐›๐š๐ฌ๐ž๐ ๐จ๐ง ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐ฆ๐จ๐ฏ๐ข๐ž '๐‚๐Ž๐‘๐€๐‹๐ˆ๐๐„' ๐›๐ž๐œ๐š๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ž ๐ฅ๐ž๐ญ'๐ฌ ๐›๐ž ๐ก๐จ๐ง๐ž๐ฌ๐ญ, ๐ข๐ญ'๐ฌ ๐ ๐ซ๐ž๐š๐ญ. ๐€๐ฅ๐ฌ๐จ ๐ˆ ๐ฌ๐ญ๐š๐ซ๐ญ๐ž๐ ๐ญ๐จ ๐ฐ๐ซ๐ข๐ญ๐ž ๐ญ๐ก๐ข๐ฌ ๐›๐ž๐Ÿ๐จ๐ซ๐ž ๐‡๐š๐ฅ๐ฅ๐จ๐ฐ๐ž๐ž๐ง. ๐ˆ ๐ฐ๐š๐ฌ ๐ข๐ง ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐ฆ๐จ๐จ๐, ๐ˆ ๐ฅ๐ข๐ค๐ž ๐œ๐ซ๐ž๐ž๐ฉ๐ฒ ๐ฌ๐ญ๐ฎ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ ๐š๐ง๐ ๐๐ฎ๐œ๐ค๐ฒ ๐๐š๐ซ๐ง๐ž๐ฌ... ๐š๐ง๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐ข๐ฌ ๐ก๐š๐ฉ๐ฉ๐ž๐ง๐ž๐. ๐“๐จ๐จ๐ค ๐ฆ๐ž ๐š ๐ฐ๐ก๐ข๐ฅ๐ž ๐ญ๐จ ๐Ÿ๐ข๐ง๐ข๐ฌ๐ก ๐ข๐ญ. ๐ข๐ญ'๐ฌ ๐ง๐จ๐ญ ๐Ÿ๐ŸŽ๐ŸŽ% ๐š๐œ๐œ๐ฎ๐ซ๐š๐ญ๐ž. ๐‡๐จ๐ฉ๐ž ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ ๐ž๐ง๐ฃ๐จ๐ฒ!
-> [ ๐— ๐—”๐—ฆ๐—ง๐—˜๐—ฅ๐—Ÿ๐—œ๐—ฆ๐—ง ] [ ๐—ฃ๐—”๐—ฅ๐—ง ๐Ÿฎ ]
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๐ถ๐‘‚๐‘…๐ด๐ฟ๐ผ๐‘๐ธ: "๐‘Šโ„Ž๐‘’๐‘› ๐‘ฆ๐‘œ๐‘ข'๐‘Ÿ๐‘’ ๐‘ ๐‘๐‘Ž๐‘Ÿ๐‘’๐‘‘ ๐‘๐‘ข๐‘ก ๐‘ฆ๐‘œ๐‘ข ๐‘ ๐‘ก๐‘–๐‘™๐‘™ ๐‘‘๐‘œ ๐‘–๐‘ก ๐‘Ž๐‘›๐‘ฆ๐‘ค๐‘Ž๐‘ฆ, ๐‘กโ„Ž๐‘Ž๐‘ก'๐‘  ๐‘๐‘Ÿ๐‘Ž๐‘ฃ๐‘’."
๐“ƒ 
She swears she can still hear his laugh sometimes. It's faint, just a shadow of sound in the back of her mind, but it's there. Fucked up, maybe, but that's how things were going. And more often than not, when she picks up her phone, her first instinct is still to call him. Just to hear his voice. Just to make sure he's okay. But he isn't okay. He isn't anything anymore.
Bucky is dead.
She remembers that last day as if it were yesterday, even though four months have passed. She woke up in his arms like she had every morning for the last three years, his warmth surrounding her in a way that made her feel like nothing in the world could touch them. After everything he had been through, after all the years of pain and fighting, he had finally retired. He was done trying to save the world, done putting his life at risk for someone else's battles. And he was happy with that choice.
They'd bought a little house far from the Avengers Compound, tucked away from the chaos. Not that they didn't love their friends - because they did - but the distance gave them peace. A chance to breathe, to live, to just be themselves, without the constant shadow of war hanging over their heads.
Alpine had come into their lives one afternoon when Bucky was walking home from therapy. A scrawny little white cat, mewling from the edge of a dumpster, had caught his attention. He didn't hesitate, scooping her up and bringing her home like it was the most natural thing in the world. He'd been so proud of that, of finding her, of giving her a safe place to heal. She loved that cat almost as much as she loved him and he loved calling himself a 'cat dad'. Because he always loved having the 'cat mom' by his side - just a thought that made him happy.
He'd been doing so well. Going to therapy not because someone told him to, but because he wanted to. Because he wanted to heal. And he was healing. He smiled more, he laughed more. He even let himself dream about the future - their future. He was starting to open up to the idea of having kids.
But then the call came.
Steve.
It was always Steve.
An emergency, he said. Something about a Russian organization - one that had picked up where Hydra had left off. They had created a group of genetically modified soldiers. Monsters, Steve called them, failed experiments with claws and fangs and things Steve hadn't even been able to describe over the phone.
Bucky didn't want to go. She didn't want him to go. But it was Steve. His best friend. The man who had fought for his freedom as fiercely as he could, and both her and Bucky knew that he would still be with Hydra if it wasn't for Captain America. He was the man Bucky trusted with his life, even now. Steve wouldn't have called if it wasn't absolutely necessary. And so, reluctantly, Bucky packed his things and left that morning, kissing her on the forehead as he promised to come back.
He didn't come back.
Not really. Surely not alive.
By the end of the night, he came back in a coffin.
Steve had been the one to tell her. He showed up at the house, his face pale and his shoulders heavy with a grief that almost matched her own. Almost. But when he started to speak, she couldn't hear him. She felt as though part of her soul had already been ripped out, and the words he said barely registered. The details of the mission, the sacrifice Bucky made to save Steve's life - it all blurred into a hollow roar in her ears.
What she couldn't ignore, though, was the ring.
Steve had handed it to her, his voice cracking as he explained what Bucky had planned. He'd been going to propose. That Sunday, just a few days after the mission, he'd planned the whole day. It was supposed to be the start of something new for them - a new chapter, a new promise.
Instead, it was the day of his funeral.
She didn't cry. She couldn't. The weight of it all was too much, pressing down on her chest until she couldn't even stand. Couldn't breathe. As the casket was lowered into the ground, all she could think about was crawling in there with him. Laying beside him, just one last time. Letting the earth close around them so they could be together forever - exactly as they planned, right? So there was nothing wrong with it.
Steve apologized, over and over, his voice cracking with guilt. "It should have been me." He said, again and again. And of course it should have been him, because Bucky had died to save him. But she couldn't bring herself to say it wasn't his fault. The words wouldn't come. Because deep down, some part of her - a small, bitter, angry part - blamed him.
What if Steve hadn't called? What if he had called someone else? What if Bucky had stayed home where he belonged? If it was selfish to think it, she didn't care. Her mind was full of what ifs - a constant, unrelenting loop of the life they could have had if only things had gone differently.
The condolences came after that. The pity.
Natasha showed up at the house, trying to get her to eat, to move, to live. Wanda also came often, trying to help with her grief, but she couldn't even bear to listen. Sam invited her to the boat, said it might be good to be around people, to get out of the house. But none of it mattered. She didn't want their help. She didn't want their understanding.
She wanted Bucky.
But Bucky was gone. Forever.
So she packed her things, took Alpine and left without telling anyone. She didn't know where she was going, and she didn't care. She just needed to be somewhere else. Somewhere far away.
That's how she ended up at the Pink Palace.
The landlord had called it that with a strange sort of pride, even though it was immediately followed by: "the last family who lived here moved away." He said. "Their kid disappeared. She was never found."
She hadn't cared about the story. It wasn't fancy, it wasn't welcoming, and it wasn't home. But it was cheap, isolated, and far, far away.
That was all she needed.
It was almost the end of November when she finally moved. She hadn't packed much - just the bare minimum. A few clothes shoved haphazardly into a bag, Alpine's golden carrier that took up most of the car's backseat, and a couple of books she wasn't even sure she wanted to read. Everything else she left behind, like she was shedding a life she didn't want to live anymore. She told herself it was enough. It had to be. For now, at the very least.
The inside of the house didn't make her feel any better. The previous owners had left everything: the scuffed furniture, the old kitchen with its peeling cabinets, the faint smell of something sour that no amount of scrubbing could erase. She didn't bring much to make it feel like hers, either, so it just sat there, hollow and untouched, as if waiting for the family that had abandoned it to return. Or their kid. Poor soul.
She thought maybe that was why she hated it so muchโ€”the emptiness. Every room felt like it was holding its breath, waiting for her to do something, and she couldn't. All she could do was drag herself out of bed when Alpine meowed for food or when her stomach twisted painfully enough to force her into the kitchen.
Alpine, at least, was always there. She never left her side, trailing her through the house like a small, silent shadow. She'd curl up beside her on the bed at night, or perch on the armrest of the couch when she finally managed to sit down. The little cat had always been attached to her, but now it felt different - like she was waiting for someone, too. She'd catch Alpine sitting by the front door sometimes, staring at it as if she expected Bucky to walk through it at any moment.
It made her chest ache. She'd lean down, scratch behind Alpine's ears, and whisper, "I miss him too." The cat would purr softly, pressing her head into her hand, and for a moment, she'd feel like someone understood. It wasn't much, but it was all she had left.
She told herself the move was a good idea. That leaving was the only way she'd ever get out from under the weight of her grief. Back home, everything reminded her of Bucky: the friends who couldn't look at her without apologizing, the apartment they'd picked out together, the diner down the street where they used to go to all the time. Here, no one knew her. No one looked at her with pity in their eyes or offered their sympathy with awkward smiles. She thought that would help.
It didn't.
Every day felt worse than the last. Maybe it was because she hadn't spoken to another person since she got here - her phone was constantly buzzing, full of texts and calls she wouldn't answer. She ignored all of it. Talking felt impossible, like a mountain she didn't have the strength to climb. Alpine was the only one who heard her voice anymore, and even then, it was barely more than a whisper.
Or, maybe, it was the house itself. The Pink Palace was old, worn-down in a way that no fresh coat of paint could hide. The windows rattled when the wind picked up, and the floorboards creaked no matter how carefully she walked. At night, the noises were worse: the faint scratching of rats in the walls, the groan of the pipes settling. Sometimes, she thought she heard whispers - soft, almost imperceptible - but she always told herself it was just her imagination.
The landlord had warned her about the neighbors, but she hadn't thought much of it at the time. There was the old man upstairs, a veteran who talked to rats like they were his comrades, and two old women who lived down the hall. She hadn't met any of them, and she didn't plan to. Their voices filtered through the thin walls often enough, though - his low muttering at night, their loud bursts of laughter and show tunes during the day. They annoyed her in a way she couldn't quite put into words. It wasn't just their presence; it was the reminder that life was still going on around her, that the world hadn't stopped just because hers had.
She told herself it was fine. That she just needed time. Time to grieve, to heal, to figure out how to keep going without Bucky. But the truth was, she didn't know how to move forward. She didn't even know if she wanted to. Every breath felt like a betrayal, every day another reminder that he was gone and she wasn't.
Now, she was in the kitchen and it was cold. Not unbearably so, but just enough that she rubbed her arms absentmindedly as she poured herself a bowl of chocolate cereal. It was one of the only things she could stomach these days, simple and sweet. The carton of milk was already sweating from how long she'd left it out, but she couldn't bring herself to care. The house was quiet except for the clink of her spoon against the bowl, the kind of silence that wasn't peaceful but heavy, like it had weight to it.
Alpine's eyes were on her back. She could feel them, even without turning around. "Baby, you already ate." She said, glancing over her shoulder at the little cat perched primly on the counter. "Don't look at me like that. You know I might give in."
Alpine tilted her head, her expression perfectly calculated to elicit guilt. Little fucker, she thought, even as the corner of her mouth twitched into something close to a smile. She knew exactly what she was doing - always did. But it was winter, and cats ate more around this time, so maybe she couldn't entirely blame her.
"Fine." She muttered, reaching up to scratch under Alpine's chin. "But not now. Later. Your dad spoiled you too much, I fear."
Alpine blinked, and the look she gave her felt suspiciously like victory.
She leaned against the counter, eating her cereal slowly. Her outfit didn't help with the cold - just an old pair of sweatpants that might have been Bucky's once, back when things were new and stealing his clothes was her favorite habit, and a faded One Direction t-shirt that clung a little awkwardly now. She'd run out of clean clothes two days ago and hadn't yet worked up the energy to deal with it. The laundry, like everything else, could wait.
She was vaguely aware she should care more about the mess she'd already made of the house. The sink was piling up with dishes, and the laundry basket was overflowing in the corner of the bedroom. She hadn't even checked if the washing machine worked - hell, she hadn't gone near the basement where it was only supposed to be. Every time she passed the stairs that led down there, her eyes would catch on the picture hanging on the wall above it: an old, ugly framed photo of a boy holding an ice cream cone. It wasn't creepy in a traditional sense, but there was something about it that unnerved her. She kept telling herself to take it down, but every time she tried, her hands faltered halfway there. Overreacting? Probably. But it didn't stop her.
She was halfway through the bowl - her last clean one, naturally - when she heard it.
The scratching was faint at first, just a tiny noise against the wall or maybe the floor, but it was enough to make her freeze. Alpine noticed it, too; her head jerked toward the sound, ears twitching. For a long moment, they both stayed perfectly still, listening.
When it came again, louder this time, she tossed her spoon onto the table with a little too much force. The clang it made was sharp, startling in the quiet room. Alpine shot her a look, her wide green eyes unimpressed but resigned, used to her mood swings by now. It had been four months and she still had a lifetime to go.
Her immediate thought was rats. It had to be. The man upstairs with his weird rat obsession was starting to drive her insane. She'd kept her mouth shut because, honestly, what was the point? If they stayed outside, she could deal. But clearly, they weren't staying outside anymore.
Her frustration mounted as she stalked toward the living room, bare feet cold against the hardwood. It was a mess of unused furniture, the kind that looked like it had been here forever, all draped in white sheets that made the room look like a graveyard. She flipped the light switch, and the old bulb overhead flickered a couple of times before settling into a dull, yellow glow.
She scanned the room, her eyes darting to every shadow and corner, but there was nothing. The scratching had stopped the moment she stepped in.
"Great, am I going crazy?" She muttered, crossing her arms. Alpine padded into the room behind her, her little white paws silent against the floor. The cat stopped a few feet away, head tilted up, watching her with an expression that bordered on curiosity - maybe even concern, if cats could feel that. After a moment, Alpine glanced around the room herself, eyes scanning the corners like she was also checking for intruders.
"Unless there's a secret door around here..." She said, her voice dry. "We have no rats. Maybe we both are going crazy, Al. We need friends. I saw a black cat outside earlier - maybe you'd like him? But then again, you don't like anyone, do you?"
Alpine blinked at her, slow and deliberate, as if to say, I tolerate you, don't I?
"Right. You do." She said, sighing as she gave the room one last look. "You could do your cat things, you know? Go find the rat or the squirrel or... whatever was making that noise. Isn't that, like, your job?"
Alpine, ever the queen of unbothered, blinked slowly at her before leaping onto one of the covered chairs. She circled once, twice, and plopped down in the dead center like she owned the place.
"Oh, I see how it is." She said, gesturing vaguely toward the corner of the room. "I'll just go check it out myself, then. You stay there, Your Majesty. Don't strain yourself."
There were no rats around, no weird animals sneaking through the house - just the occasional spider in the corner. Sure, they were unsettling (spiders were spiders, after all), but they didn't scratch walls or skitter across floors loud enough to wake her up. She was still absolutely convinced one of her neighbor's stupid rats had managed to crawl into her house, but those little guys knew how to hide. She didn't have any traps, didn't feel like running to the hardware store to get some, and frankly, she couldn't bring herself to care enough to chase them down.
So, she went to bed. Or rather, she tried to.
Her body felt heavy with exhaustion, but her mind refused to shut up. It was like that most nights - crying herself into something halfway between sleep and pure misery. She wasn't sure what time it was when her eyes shot open. 2 a.m.? 3 a.m.? It didn't matter. The house was silent except for the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears.
And then, there it was again. The scratching.
She tried to ignore it, rolling onto her side and pulling the blanket up to her neck. But now it sounded like two sets of paws scratching. Or maybe three. A chorus of little claws, just loud enough to make her want to scream into her pillow.
That was it. She threw the blanket off and got out of bed, Alpine letting out a disgruntled mrrp from her spot at the foot of the mattress. The cat yawned and stretched like she was coming off a twelve-hour shift and had no intention of working overtime, then promptly curled up again.
"Thanks for the backup, Al." She muttered under her breath, her steps loud against the creaking floor as she headed for the stairs.
The house was mostly in the darkness, the moonlight spilling through the windows just enough to see by. She didn't bother flipping on the lights - she didn't need to. Her legs carried her straight to the living room, and her hand reached out for the switch before she even had to think about it.
And there they were.
Two rats, scratching at the wall right behind the couch, their little bodies half-hidden by one of the white sheets still draped over the furniture. She stared at them, her lips pressing into a tight line.
"I knew I wasn't crazy. Not yet, anyway."
The rats didn't even flinch at her voice, too busy clawing at the wall. She frowned. Clearly, she hadn't thought this through: no traps, no plan, just righteous indignation and a pair of rats that didn't seem to give a single damn about her existence.
"Okay." She mumbled, taking a step back. "Fine. Stay there, little guys, don't move. I'm going for Plan B."
The kitchen. Maybe there was something useful there. She left the rats to their scratching and marched down the hall, pulling open cabinets and drawers with a single-minded focus. She wasn't entirely sure what she was looking for - maybe some old traps left behind by the previous owners. The smell of mold hit her first, making her wrinkle her nose as she dug through the shit that had been left behind.
Nothing. Nothing but useless, stupid junk.
She opened another drawer, and that's when she saw them: keys.
Dozens of them.
She stared down at them, her hand hovering over the strange collection. They were all different sizes and colors, most looking as old as the house itself. Some were rusted beyond repair, others shiny and new, but none of them made sense. There weren't enough doors in this house to justify half of these keys, let alone all of them.
One caught her eye, standing out from the rest.
It was different - heavier, more ornate, with a handle that curved into an odd shape. The other side of the key wasn't jagged like the rest but smooth, and there was something unusual about the tip of the handle. It was round, like a small button.
"Particular. Particularly ugly." She muttered, turning it over in her hand. Maybe it was a toy? Some part of a playset the previous owner's kid had lost and forgotten. It wouldn't have surprised her; the house was practically a time capsule of neglected junk. Herself included.
She felt Alpine brush past her leg, but before she could think more about the strange key, the sound of scratching came again. This time louder, more insistent. The rats.
"Stay here, Alpine. Mama has work to do." She mumbled to herself, shoving the key absentmindedly into her sweatpants pocket and leaving the drawer open behind her. She followed the noise back to the living room, muttering under her breath about how tired she was of this nonsense.
The two culprits were still there, busy clawing away at the wall behind the couch. She stopped in the doorway and folded her arms, glaring at them like they might actually respond.
"I'm not even sure I have edible food anymore." She said aloud, her voice as dry as ever. "So if you're looking for that, you're in the wrong house. Go annoy someone else."
The rats didn't flinch, still focused on whatever had their attention. She tilted her head, studying them. They weren't looking for food, not really. They weren't sniffing the air or scurrying around. They seemed fixated on something - like they were trying to get to it.
She took a cautious step forward. "Alright, Ratatouille." She said, her tone edged with exasperation. "Move. Let me see what's so important to you. But then you have to leave, this is not some hotel for wild animals."
The moment she approached, the rats scattered, darting away with tiny squeaks and disappearing into the shadows. Typical. She sighed, shaking her head, and turned her attention to the wall.
The couch was pressed tightly against it, but there wasn't anything unusual about the spot - at least, not at first glance. She stepped closer, gripping the edges of the sheet-covered furniture and giving it a hard tug to drag it out of the way. Dust puffed into the air, and she coughed, waving a hand in front of her face.
And then she saw it.
At first, she thought it was just another patch of peeling wallpaper, but the more she looked, the clearer it became. There was a faint outline in the wall - small and rectangular, no bigger than a cupboard door. It blended into the faded wallpaper almost perfectly, as if it wasn't meant to be noticed.
"What the-." She whispered, her brow furrowing as she crouched down. She reached out, her fingers brushing over the edges. It felt solid beneath her touch, though her nails caught on the subtle grooves around the frame. A door.
The realization sent a chill down her spine, though she didn't know why. It was just a door, wasn't it? Probably a storage compartment or something for the plumbing. Nothing out of the ordinary.
But if it was nothing out of the ordinary, then why did her heart rate accelerate? She knelt there, staring at the faint outline, her fingers brushing over it again as if to prove it was real. It was small - just enough for a child to walk through without ducking.
The edges of her mind filled with half-formed theories she didn't want to entertain. What if this door had been here all along, hidden under layers of wallpaper? What if that kid had found it first? Stop it, she told herself firmly, shaking her head. The story didn't matter. What mattered was that it was here, and now so was she.
Her hand drifted to her pocket, fingers brushing against the cool metal of the key she'd shoved in earlier. She frowned, her chest tightening. What if it works?
The thought made her hesitate. Opening the door felt like crossing a line she couldn't uncross, but curiosity stirred inside her anyway. That curiosity - it was something she'd always had, even when it got her in trouble. Bucky used to tease her about it all the time, it was something he loved about her.
And so, before she even knew it, she pressed the key into the faint hole at its center. Her heart thudded in her chest as she twisted. It caught for a moment, then turned smoothly, like it had been waiting for her all along.
The faintest click echoed in the silence. It worked.
She didn't exactly know what to expect. Her mind cycled through possibilities, each one more ridiculous than the last: a family of rats scurrying around like they paid rent, a skeleton tucked away like some dark secret, or maybe just bricks sealing off the passage altogether. A tunnel? That wasn't even on her radar.
But there it was. A tunnel, impossibly strange and bathed in shifting lights - purple, blue, magenta - all swirling together like something out of a dream. She blinked hard, then again, just to make sure her exhausted brain wasn't playing tricks on her. The colors didn't fade. They seemed to ripple against the walls, smooth and alive in a way that made her skin prickle.
She looked over her shoulder at the living room. It sat there, ordinary and lifeless, the same sad space it had been since she'd arrived one week ago. She glanced back at the tunnel. The air inside seemed thicker somehow, shimmering faintly like heat rising off asphalt. She squinted, trying to see where it led, but the light bent strangely, making it impossible to tell.
She should've closed it. She knew she should've closed it. Slam the door shut, throw the key into the nearest lake, and maybe burn the whole house down for good measure. Whatever was inside that tunnel didn't belong in any version of the real world she understood.
But then again, what part of her life ever had?
Her chest tightened as she thought of her friends - if she could even call them that anymore. A witch, a talking raccoon, the god of thunder, and a billionaire with a good heart. Her world had been full of strange, impossible things for years. Magic wasn't just real; she'd seen it firsthand. Aliens existed. Some Guardians of the Galaxy also existed. People flew and moved mountains and bent reality to their will.
Strange doesn't always mean bad, she thought, swallowing hard.
That reasoning didn't stop her palms from sweating as she reached out, fingers brushing the edges of the opening. Crawling into it felt ridiculous and dangerous all at once, but the longer she stood there, the more her curiosity pulled at her - fuck it. It surely couldn't be worse that the grief she was feeling.
She winced as she leaned forward, testing the space, her shoulders brushing the sides. It was tighter than she liked, but manageable if she stayed low. The tunnel smelled faintly of damp stone and something else she couldn't place.
She couldn't stop now, not with how close she felt to... something. What, she didn't know. Crawling forward, her knees and palms scraped against the hard surface, her muscles starting to ache. The tunnel felt endless, and the air was so still it made her ears ring. She had no idea how far she'd gone, and when she tried to glance over her shoulder, the tight space made it impossible to look back.
She groaned under her breath, cursing herself for crawling into a place she didn't understand, but just as the panic started to creep in, her head bumped into something solid.
Her hand shot forward, feeling the cool, grainy surface of wood. She froze, her heart thundering in her chest as her fingers fumbled until they found the faint outline of a handle. For a moment, she just knelt there. Did she really want to know what was on the other side? Probably not. But she was here now, so what else could she do?
Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open.
The smell hit her first - warm and familiar, like cinnamon. She blinked, stunned, as she crawled out and stood, brushing off her pants. For a second, all she could do was stare.
She was in the living room again.
But it wasn't her living room. At least, not the one she remembered crawling away from. The place looked new, like it belonged in a magazine. The furniture wasn't covered in old sheets anymore, the floors gleamed like it had just been polished, and the walls (painted in colors she loved but never had the energy to pick out herself) looked clean and bright. The TV was on, playing a cooking show she didn't recognize, and the whole room felt warm, like someone had been living there all along.
Her chest tightened as she took it all in. This had to be some kind of dream, right? It was too perfect. She rubbed her arm hard, trying to snap herself out of it, but nothing changed. She pinched her skin next, just to be sure. Still nothing.
She drifted toward the kitchen, her legs shaky beneath her. And that's when she saw him.
Her breath caught in her throat.
It was Bucky.
His back was to her, but she'd know him anywhere, in any shape or form or lifetime. His shoulders were broad, his hair tied back in a low bun like he used to wear it when they stayed in together. He was at the stove, cooking something - probably whatever smelled so good - and he was humming. She could hear him clearly, the tune instantly recognizable: It's Been a Long, Long Time. Her hands clutched at the doorframe as her heart hammered in her chest.
It didn't make sense.
It couldn't make sense.
But he was there. Breathing and alive.
She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but no sound came out. She just stared, watching him as he moved like he belonged there, like he hadn't been gone for months. Like nothing had ever happened.
He spoke without turning around, his voice warm and familiar, the sound of it wrapping around her like a hug. "Took you long enough to find me, doll."
Her legs almost gave out.
"Bucky?" She whispered, barely able to get the word out.
He chuckled softly, turning to face her. "Who else?"
Her heart lurched in her chest - then stopped entirely.
Because when he turned, it wasn't his warm blue eyes staring back at her.
It was two shiny black buttons.
She squeezed her eyes shut, her breathing ragged as her hand flew up to cover her mouth. She didn't know if it was to stop herself from screaming or from throwing up, but the nausea hit her in waves. Those buttons were sewn into his eyes: thick, uneven stitches held them in place, and the skin around them was raw and red, like it hurt just to exist.
Her entire body shook as she backed up a step, then froze when he took one toward her.
"Hey, hey." He murmured softly, his voice like velvet, so familiar it made her chest ache. His hand reached out, brushing against hers. His touch was light, gentle, and for a second she softened.
Her lips trembled as she avoided looking at him, tears pooling under her lashes. This was him, wasn't it? The man she loved. The man she'd lost. The way his fingers slid against her skin, the way he leaned in like he wanted to shield her from the world -ย  it was all so painfully familiar.
"I know what you must be thinking." He said, his other hand brushing against her chin, tilting her face up toward him. His thumb traced her jaw, soft and deliberate, the way it always had when he wanted to comfort her. "I'm dead, technically. In the other world. Here, now, I'm here, baby. And here I am meant to stay, with you. Open your pretty eyes for me."
Her breath hitched, and she dared to open her eyes again.
And he was there. He looked just the same, apart from the obvious absence of the blue eyes she'd fallen in love with. The messy stubble on his jaw, the faint scar on his cheek, the way his lips curved into the softest smile - it was all him.
"I..." Her voice cracked, and she had to swallow hard before trying again. "How is this possible?"
"Does it matter?" His smile widened, but it didn't reach those dark, empty... well, buttons. "Touch me. Feel me. This is real, I'm real, my love. Doesn't matter how, we can have our second chance."
Her knees felt weak, like her body was fighting against her own disbelief. She wanted to collapse, to wake up from this nightmare, but instead, she found herself reaching for his face. Her hand trembled as she hovered just short of his cheek, afraid to touch him, afraid to feel if he was real.
He leaned into her hand anyway, guiding her fingers against his skin. It was warm. Soft. Real.
"It's okay." He whispered, his voice dripping with reassurance. "I know it's weird, I know it's painful, but you'll get used to it if you wish to stay. With me, forever. As we planned, do you remember?"
Her throat felt tight, like she was swallowing glass. "I... I do, but your eyes-"
He cut her off gently, his hand moving to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Shh. Don't worry about that. You don't have to think about anything now. You're home, sweetheart. That's all that matters."
He took her hand in his, brushing his lips softly against her knuckles the way he always had. It was such a simple gesture, yet her lower lip trembled despite herself. She was stupid, she knew that. Stupid for letting her guard down, for leaning toward him like this. It was fucked up - completely, utterly fucked up.
Four months. Four agonizing months of endless crying, of sleepless nights consumed by thoughts of him. She'd wanted him back so desperately that she'd prayed to gods she didn't even believe in, hoping for one of them - if they existed - to bring him home. They didn't need him, she did. And when that didn't work, she had begged Death herself, tempting fate one reckless night after another, daring her to take her too.
But no one answered.
And yet, here he was.
It wasn't her Bucky, not really. She knew that. Deep down, she knew. But it was something. And the broken, yearning part of her - by far the loudest - shoved aside every concern, every alarm, and clung to the scraps he offered. She followed him as he led her to the table, where all her favorite foods waited, the centerpiece being those cinnamon rolls only he could make.
Because despite everything, Bucky Barnes had always been an incredible cook.
"I've been waiting for you for a long time." He said, his voice warm but edged with something she couldn't quite place. "In this... other world." He paused, letting the words hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "I took my time to make everything perfect for you. For us. So we could keep living our life the way we always wanted. Before... you know. The mission."
She swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to the table. Her heart clenched painfully at the memory, but she forced herself to look at him. And his plate, which was empty.
Not his eyes - she couldn't. Those black, unblinking buttons unsettled her in a way she couldn't articulate. Instead, her focus drifted to his lips, to the familiar curve of his smile, trying to anchor herself to the parts of him that still felt like him.
"How... how does this even work?" She asked, her voice unsteady. "Is this a parallel universe? Doctor Strange said something about a multiverse once but I didnโ€™t pay attention.โ€
He tilted his head slightly, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "No, not a multiverse. But call it a parallel universe if that's what makes sense to you." He said, his tone light, like they were discussing the weather. Then his smile widened, his expression softening. "I call it the Other World. I'm the Other Bucky."
Her chest tightened at his words. Other Bucky? The phrase sounded so wrong. She bit her lip, her hands curling into fists in her lap as she tried to process it.
"You're... not my Bucky?" She whispered, her voice trembling.
โ€œNot quite.โ€ His smile faltered for a fraction of a second before he leaned closer, reaching out to take her hand in his again. His touch was so familiar, so gentle, it sent a shiver down her spine. "I'm still your Bucky, sweetheart." He said, his voice dripping with sincerity. "Maybe not the one you lost. But I love you just the same. Isn't that enough?"
Her throat felt tight, and tears blurred her vision. She wanted to scream that no, it wasn't enough. That nothing could ever replace the Bucky she'd lost, the one she'd loved more than anything in the world. But when she looked at him again, at the way he held her hand so tenderly, the way he spoke with so much conviction, the fight drained out of her.
"Do you... do you remember our first Christmas together?" She asked, her voice hesitant, almost fragile. Her thumb traced the back of his hand, an old habit she had when she felt nervous. "When I told you I wanted a Christmas tree, and you got one by the end of the day?"
A soft chuckle escaped his lips, the sound so achingly familiar that it sent a pang through her chest. "How could I forget? You were so determined to make it perfect. I stole it, by the way. From Tony's personal collection at the Compound."
She smiled. "I know. Tony told me a couple of days later."
"Yeah, well..." He raised an eyebrow with a sly grin. "He caught me hauling it out and almost blasted me. I think he only let me keep it because he knew it was for you. Though he made me suffer for weeks after."
She couldn't help the small, genuine smile that crept onto her face. It sounded so much like the man she'd loved - his mischief, his stubbornness. "That sounds exactly like something he would do." She said softly.
Encouraged, she pushed forward, testing him. "And... do you remember when you brought Alpine home? You got her that little blanket. Do you remember which one?"
His button eyes seemed to glint with something she couldn't name, if that was even possible, but the smile on his lips didn't waver. "The Captain America one." He said without hesitation. "She hated it at first, but you swore it made her look cozy. I remember everything, doll. Every little detail."
She felt her throat tighten again, nodding. He was telling the truth.
"You're testing me, aren't you?" He asked, tilting his head, his voice carrying no edge of offense, only understanding.
"I... yes. I'm sorry." She whispered, dropping her gaze.
"No, baby, it's perfectly fine." He reached across the table, his fingers brushing hers lightly, sandwiching her hand between both of his. She flinched, but only slightly. His touch still felt so warm, so human. "I understand. I'd do the same if I were in your shoes."
She risked a glance at him, and his smile softened, becoming something almost unbearably tender. "I don't blame you for doubting this." He said, his voice low. "For doubting me. You've been through hell. You've lost more than anyone should ever have to. And yet, here you are, strong enough to sit across from me and look for the truth."
Her hand trembled slightly beneath his. "Bucky-"
"I'm not just saying this because I want you to believe me." He interrupted gently. "I'm saying this because I need you and I love you. I loved you then, I love you now, and I'll keep loving you, no matter what world we're in of what choice you made. No matter what it takes. I didn't wait all this time just to lose you again."
His words hit her like a blow to the chest, raw and piercing. Tears stung her eyes, and for a moment, she let herself lean into the illusion, into the hope that maybe this was real, that maybe she'd been given another chance in that weird way. Maybe that was the answer from the Gods she was waiting for.
"Bucky." She whispered again, her voice breaking. "I've missed you so much."
"I know, doll." He said, leaning closer, pressing his forehead against hers. "But I'm here now. That's all that matters. You don't have to carry the pain anymore. Let me do that for you."
Tears pricked her eyes again as he talked, his voice like a balm she hadn't realized she'd missed so much. He told her how long he'd been waiting for her, how lonely he'd been in this perfect world he claimed to have created just for her. His words wrapped around her like a warm blanket, even as a sliver of unease twisted deep in her chest.
She could only squeeze his hand tighter. She sat with him, eating as he poured her wine, laughing softly at his jokes even though she barely heard them. It was so easy to fall into this rhythm, to let herself believe him.
But that small, stubborn voice in the back of her mind was screaming at her. Begging her. Pleading with her to see. To crawl back through that door to the real world, to grieve, to heal, to move on. Because whatever this was, it wasn't normal. It wasn't right. It was dark and twisted, and somewhere deep inside, she knew that.
But then he smiled at her again.
And just like that, she smiled back.
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brunettemarionette ยท 3 days ago
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๐ˆ๐ฆ๐š๐ ๐ข๐ง๐ž ๐›๐ž๐ข๐ง๐  ๐–๐š๐๐ž ๐š๐ง๐ ๐•๐š๐ง๐ž๐ฌ๐ฌ๐š'๐ฌ ๐๐š๐ฎ๐ ๐ก๐ญ๐ž๐ซ
โ†  female reader. no description of features. no mentions of size.
a/n: pictures made by me, spoilers I guess if you haven't watched Deadpool? No warnings just fluff and dumbassery.
Some time after Deadpool & Wolverine, they get back together, and you're a total surprise for them despite the two wanting a baby before Vanessa died.
"So... are we having a Sonny or a Cher?"
Not being called either of those names and definitely not being called anything 'strippery'... or Wade Jr, Wada, Darth Wader and definitely not Todd, either.
No matter how much Wade worried about being like his dad, all that went out the window when you were actually born.
"I've only had a daughter for a day and a half, but if anything happened to her, I'd kill everyone in this room and then myself... come back to life fuck shit up and die again. Rinse and repeat."
Wade leaving you with Blind Al as a babysitter (sometimes she wouldn't even realize you're there).
"Wade, you can't just leave the baby with a blind person." *Surprise Pikachu Deadpool * "...ableist..."
I feel like Wade, at some point, either dropped you or you fell when you were a kid, but it's for the best since that's how he and Vanessa found out that you're a chip off the ole' block when you heal super fast.
Despite what Vanessa thought when they first agreed to make a baby, they did, in fact, make a 'super baby.'
Always following your 'Uncle' Logan around no matter how much he tries to get rid of you.
"'Babypool' go-... play or something, okay kid?"
Growing up surrounded by mutants means you never think you're different or a freak but instead becoming very protective of your mom. After a talk with your dad about your mom dying, you realize just how fragile people are.
Surprisingly, Wade makes a great girl dad. He does the tea party thing and, of his own accord, puts on the dress and clip earrings; he serves tea to the plush bears and scoffs when others mock him.
"Clearly, you people have no class."
As you got older, you started to look more like your mom, but no matter what situation you found yourself in, you could stop the snark, so much so that it earned you the nickname 'Mini mouth' โ€“ Wade was so proud.
Wade took you to the roof of the building to 'bond,' which Vanessa knew was him teaching you how to fight โ€“ something she was okay with until you both fell off the roof... more than once.
Them both knowing that despite wanting to give you a normal childhood and life you were going to be some kind or 'hero/antihero'. So they roll with the punches, and Wade makes sure you know exactly what you need to know about it.
"No, spermpool, red is my color. Just ask your mom when we-"
"Ew, Dad... and don't call me that."
On that note, investing in headphones was something you picked up the older you got, asking the store which ones cancel noise the best and then buying earbuds to go with them.
"Minipool, Girlpool, not-as-good-deadpool, Wishpool... ow... okay! We'll think of a better name for you!"
Despite you and your dad both being mercs who have been killed or hurt in every which way, your mom still rules the house. That's how you two find your katanas confiscated when you started playing 'Star Wars' during Thanksgiving.
Your dad makes a lot of Batman and Robin jokes when you're working together, only after he made a weird Batman and Catwoman joke until he realized why that was gross. So you became his Robin.
For someone so laid back about love and sex, Wade is very protective when it comes to you. Seeing the bad guys flirt with you, his deadpan snark reaches a few levels higher than his norm โ€“ it doesn't help when your mom hypes up your catsuit.
"I told you we should have gotten her a costume like what the lady three floors down wears."
โ€œRed, that's a Muumuu.โ€
Being impulsive is like an inherited trait from both of them, which just makes up a chaotic household, and yet you all love every minute of it.
"One of the best things my dad ever gave me, not by choice, are these two gold-plated 50 caliber desert eagle pistoleros...."
๐—ง๐—ต๐—ฒ๐—บ๐—ฒ ๐—ฆ๐—ผ๐—ป๐—ด๐˜€
The Nights by Avicii
GDFR by Flo Rida
X gon' give it to ya by DMX
๐—ฅ๐—ฒ๐—น๐—ฎ๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๐—ถ๐—ผ๐—ป๐˜€๐—ต๐—ถ๐—ฝ ๐—ง๐—ฟ๐—ผ๐—ฝ๐—ฒ๐˜€:
Chaotic parents x Inherited Chaos (you)
Matching Family Energy
Dumbasses (wade, you) x Oh, those are my dumbasses (vanessa)
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majoryeager104 ยท 2 days ago
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You + Me = three pt 2
Summary: headcannons of Touya as an official dad
warnings: Language, mentions of murder (โ˜๏ธ๐Ÿ’€) and Touya needing to be protected at all costs (as usual ๐Ÿ˜ฉ)
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Itโ€™s a daughter
And heโ€™s never been more happy
He canโ€™t really explain why he wanted a daughter so bad
But he was beyond ecstatic when he got to hold her for the first time
As said before, if he could cry, he would
Heโ€™d definitely be a protective dad
Like besides you NO ONE can hold his little princess ๐Ÿ™…โ€โ™€๏ธ
Because โ€œno mf youโ€™ll DROP HER, or sheโ€™ll get ANXIOUS, or ILL GET ANXIOUSโ€
But at the same time
Yk those memes that are like โ€œdad vs momโ€ and the mom is cuddling the baby, and the dad is like treating it like a ragdoll? Slinging it over his shoulder and stuff?
Yeah thatโ€™s him too.ย 
A year in you walk into the living room
And heโ€™s got your daughter upside down
Walking on her handsย 
While he holds her ankles
โ€œShe wanted to do a hand standโ€
And heโ€™d shrug like it wasnโ€™t an ACTUAL BABY
Like everyone else would treat her irresponsibly but him
And that mindset of his never goes away
Can you imagine when his daughter is a teenager?
Bringing a boy home?
I think the fuck not ๐Ÿ˜ค
Heโ€™ll either threaten the kid
Or like actually burn him.ย 
Like fr
Heโ€™s a villain okay
But heโ€™s got his priorities straight at least
Bc the boy was probably gonna try and use her anyways ๐Ÿ˜ค
At least according to Touya
So he deserved it ๐Ÿงย 
Moving on from child murder
Back to baby hcโ€™s
Heโ€™d totally steal naps with the baby when he can
Heโ€™s not even tiredย 
But holding his baby
And having her fall asleep in his arms?ย 
An elevated experience for him
ESPECIALLY if it means you can catch a break
Buuuuut
Nap time with baby AND you?
Heโ€™s in heaven.ย 
His two favorite people
The two people in the world he would protect at any cost
And he gets to cuddle with them ๐Ÿฅนย 
I think on a serious note though
The experience of being a dadย 
And raising a kid with you
Definitely made him think about a few thingsย 
Like
Revenge didnโ€™t feel worth it anymore.ย 
If it meant heโ€™d die in a few months
And leave you two behind?
Nah
Bc having you twoย 
Was the best thing to happen to him
Because
He didnโ€™t want to die for you
He wanted to live for you
So what was the point in dying in such a terrible way?
So his daughter could grow up without her dad?ย 
Absolutely not.ย 
So
Should he have a family with youย 
That revenge heโ€™d been working towards would be obsoleteย 
All that energy that he stored up
For the moment heโ€™d destroy the lives of his father and those who wronged him?
That energy is being put to better use now
Now heโ€™s making time to take his daughter on walks so you can rest
And making her and you pancakes every morning
Every single dayย 
As his daughter gets older and older, he definitely opens up about the things heโ€™s doneย 
Heโ€™d been in a shell for so longย 
Hiding himself from people
That he never wanted to do that again
At least not with you or your daughter
And once again
Another moment where if he could heโ€™d cry?
Is when his daughter smiles
And says she understands
Just like you did all those years ago when he told youย 
Because now he had a family
Anย actualย familyย 
Who loved and understood him
And heโ€™ll be holding onto these moments
That he considers ever so sacred and precious
Till the day he finally drops dead
Ughhhh Dad Touya has my heart I fear ๐Ÿ–๏ธ๐Ÿ˜ญ having a whole redemption arc for the sake of his family bc Enji never did that for him ๐Ÿ’”๐Ÿ’”๐Ÿ’”
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rahleeyah ยท 3 days ago
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I am so so intrigued by the alternative universe in which olivia fucks carisi. what are the vibes there (besides deeply unwell in a way that to me is deeply interesting and also hot). what's your vision?
Ah yes, the alternate universe in which Liv fucks Carisi.
So in the actual universe Amanda has picked a job that involves her traveling all the time, constantly away from home, leaving her husband alone with three children, one of whom is an infant, while he is in the midst of a full blown existential crisis about Being A Dad, where he sees danger lurking around every corner and is flipping out about protecting his kids.
All of that is actually happening, but in the alternate universe the characters acknowledge that this is happening. In the alternate universe Carisi admits his wife has abandoned their family after she promised him that she wanted to settle down and keep herself safe for their kids - he admits that he's lonesome and struggling and it's a bad thing that he isn't able to spend any time with his wife. That he spent what a decade pining for this woman and now that he's finally got her they're both miserable. But he's got these kids to take care of and really it was the kids he wanted most; he wanted to have a family he wanted to be a father and now he is and he's coping with his less than ideal circumstances but in the alternate universe he does at least admit that it's not ideal.
In the alternate universe Olivia allows herself to feel hurt by Amanda, instead of swallowing it all down. Amanda who ran away from her - just like Liv knew she would - Amanda who made her husband lie to Liv and hide the pregnancy from her, ducked Liv's calls for no reason other than that she just didn't seem to want to deal with Liv; in the alternate universe Liv lets herself say hey this is all a little fucked up.
In the canon universe and the alternate universe both it has been too long since Liv last saw Elliot and she's got to be wondering if she blew it. Maybe it's for the best that she blew it. She doesn't think she's allowed to have nice things, anyway.
So in the alternate universe, where Carisi and Liv have both the self respect and the self awareness to acknowledge the fuckedupedness of their situation, Carisi calls Liv for help. He's so tired. The baby's barely sleeping. The girls are bored and they miss their mom. Please help, Liv. Save me, Cap.
So Liv comes. Liv helps. Noah plays with Jesse (side bar it has always irked me that the show spells her name Jesse, which is generally accepted as the masculine spelling, instead of Jessie, which is commonly used for girls. Why did they do that) and Billie and they fall asleep. Liv cleans the kitchen, helps Carisi find some balance in the chaos. Nicky (funny, that, he'll think later, how Amanda said she wanted to name their son after Sonny, but somehow managed to name the baby after Amaro, instead) falls asleep, Liv and Carisi fall into the couch with their wine glasses.
At first it's just talking. Carisi cautiously admitting he doesn't like the set up with Amanda's new job but what's he gonna do, you know? Maybe there's a couple of nights, maybe at least once every time Amanda's out of town, where they talk like this. Start getting more and more honest. Both of them admitting that having the thing they always wanted isn't really everything it's cracked up to be.
I think I made a mistake, Carisi says, wondering if maybe he'd have been better off if he walked out of SVU ten years ago and met a nice girl who actually wants to be with him, who doesn't always have one foot out the door.
I think I made a mistake, Liv says, thinking about that night in her kitchen with Elliot, wondering if that was the last chance she's ever gonna get to kiss him. Maybe she should've just done it. Maybe -
They're sad, they're lonesome, they both need something to hold on to. Liv's technically single and Carisi might as well be, he's getting so little time with his wife. They're just sad, really, all the way down to their bones, and it's about comfort, more than anything else. They both just want to hold someone; they both just want to be held. They never speak of it in the daylight. In the daylight they work as well together as they ever have, and never give anything away. At night they cling to each other, whisper secrets in the dark. They don't really want each other; they both know they're just placeholders. Waiting for the ones they love to come back to them. If they ever do.
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subcultureblues ยท 20 hours ago
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Nobody asked but soon after she died, his Dad got arrested and he moved in with Uncle Wayne he could hear Eddie strumming that song all the time, through the closed bedroom door. In a bid to connect with this scrappy, angry kid Wayne tried to find it on cassette. The best he could do was Zepplin 1, they did a cover apparently. He hoped this would be good enough at least.
He hadnโ€™t expected it to have as profound of an effect as it did. Eddie fell in love with that casset. It was that album that really sent him down the road of heavy metal. He started coming out of his room more, sitting on the couch near Wayneโ€™s old stereo, just listening to that tape over and over. God, was Wayne sick of that fucking tape. But it got Eddie out of his room. Brought the spark back to his nephew, one he hadnโ€™t seen in a long while.
Eddie started asking Wayne to drive him to town so he could check out the record store. Wayne was stretched thin with a new kid to take care of so couldnโ€™t afford much, mind. But Eddie liked just going in and listening to what they had in stock. Liked switching through radio stations on the drive over. It was on these long drives into town Wayne finally got the kid to open up a little. Tell Wayne about the stories heโ€™d been writing about knights and dragons and kind, benevolent queens that lovingly watched over their kingdoms. He told Wayne about this game he heard of Dungeon Dragon, or something. Wayne managed to find a copy of the DM manual in a used bookstore near the record shop while Eddie was inside one of their listening booths going through to half their heavy metal albums. He got Eddie one of those too.
He gave Eddie that book and that tape on their first Christmas together. See when Eddie was a toddler, he could never really seem to stop smiling, or laughing. It was the first time in a long time Wayne got to see his face really light up like that again. And those big, happy grins finally started coming back over the next few years.
Heโ€™s worn out three different copies of Zeppelin 1 since then. He always went back for a new cassette when the last wore down because Babe, Iโ€™m Gonna Leave You is still his favorite song.
The singular headcanon I hold as gospel in my heart of hearts - Eddieโ€™s mom was the most lovely woman youโ€™ve ever met and she died when he was around 10-12 years old. One thing not a lot of people knew about her though? She was brilliant with a guitar.
Her father taught her how to play folk and bluegrass when she was young. She was a natural. She taught Eddie too. He was not a natural. He was actually pretty goddamned awful to listen to, for a while. Like, a while. But she was always patient with him. Proud of every small improvement.
When she got sick, and her hands were too frail to hold down the heavy strings, she asked Eddie to sit by her bed and play for her. She said she preferred listening to him over the radio, and of course he thought she was lying to be nice, but she really, really wasnโ€™t.
He was determined to learn to play her favorite song, an old folk song. Babe, Iโ€™m Gonna Leave You. It was a complicated one, thereโ€™s some pretty technical finger picking, but she talked him through every note. And little Eddie kept practicing and practicing. It was still rusty but he was getting there and he wanted more than anything to play it for her perfectly all the way though.
She died before he got the chance.
And secretly that will always be Eddieโ€™s biggest regret. That he never got to play his mom her favorite song, not perfectly. Not like he wanted to. He can probably play that song backwards and forward in his sleep these days - but itโ€™s too late now.
(What he didnโ€™t realize is that having her son by her bedside, keeping her company as they sang along to her favorite song again and again while he practiced - those were some of the most cherished moments of her entire life)
Dead Mom Club Eddie Munson, my beloved.
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warning-heckboop ยท 16 days ago
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I like to think in the Gifted au, Peri legitimately blames Dev for everything going wrong in his life until Irep or someone slaps some sense into him like "my guy, that is a barely ten year old child"
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polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup ยท 2 months ago
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Part of mes like wondering about yuta nanami bonding time and my minds settled on yuta (plus second years) bake nanami a loaf of bread or something and yuta gives it to him in a very clear i wish to run away now way and it freeze frames nanami for like five minutes
No one told him it was for Yuuta specifically to give to Nanami until they were shoving it in his hands and kicking him through a door. Sometimes Yuuta reconsiders this friends thing.
Nanami had to go lie down after.
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geee-three ยท 3 months ago
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here's my overly complicated shinonomes/hanasatos/tonos/hayakawas headcanons. btw.
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diangelodork ยท 3 days ago
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HERE IS LOUISโ€™ E3 COMMENTARY!! (i warned him thoroughly going into this episode i promise)
also, if yall have any questions as to what heโ€™s referencing, feel free to ask me bc i always have to ask for clarification ๐Ÿ˜ญ๐Ÿ˜ญ
Dead Boy Detectives Episode 3, Initial Notes:
Suicide disclaimer, bouta get real
I still love these title cards
Picture of Dorian grey reference does not go unappreciated
What do you mean there were never meant to be this many people? As in not this many ghosts in the land of the living? Orโ€ฆ bad vibes Edwin
Holy shit Charles is wearing suspenders
K so ghosts can just do that
Is there meaning behind the snake in the title sequence? I can connect a lot of the other shit but not that
Jenny. Jenny episode. Jenny arc. Lesbian butcher backstory
Oh he big time jelly
Niko what are your other three favorite buildings??
Also how do you fuck ghosts asking for a friend
Jenny is so real
Well observed Niko, well observed (best character)
โ€œBack in the 1990s when people could afford shit like thatโ€ lmao
Lilith Adams first wife in the apocryphal texts I believe
Spits alt reality Conan Gray
Would.
Monty honeypot goes crazy
SHE HAS YAOI LMAO
Whyโ€™s it always gotta be bureaucracy I just wanna have a good time man
The Scotch(?) cop vs vaguely American notary truly a match up for the ages
The music here is always on point
Dad smashed tape with hammer (early 1900s British Dad)
OH MY GOD THEYRE GONNA SHOW US THE MURDER OH MY GOD
OH MY LORD
HOLY SHIT
MEN WILL DO LITERALLY ANYTHING TO AVOID GOING TO YOU KNOW WHAT NEVER MIND HOLY SHIT GOD JESUS CHRIST
itโ€™s the kids that get me ๐Ÿ˜–
Yes itโ€™s a loop Edwin congrats
Giving me Slaughterhouse-Five vibes I.e. trauma makes you unstuck in time, here itโ€™s a loop though. Which also tracks. Iโ€™m reminded of โ€œwhenever I close my eyes, I find myself back in Stalingradโ€ type shit
Niko living her best life
Also domestic abuse, trauma, themes et cetera et cetera (gas mask guy at the beginning)
God Charles you know this shit is my weakness
Ahh โ€œyou will never leave meโ€ dissolution of suburbia or some shit, male need for love and intimacy expressed through the need for control, et cetera
The Bell Jar is my favorite book! I donโ€™t think this is a reference thoughโ€ฆ althoughโ€ฆ voices in the headโ€ฆ
No Niko you could have had such a comfy evening damn it
OH GOD IS HE PART OF THE LOOP NOW
Yep.
His personal emotional pain sinks him into the cycle of trauma and suffering?
Themes effect of emotional pain and trauma on the mind
Control, always watching
Feeds off of negativityโ€ฆ something themes connection
Also โ€œIโ€™ve seen them sulking around hell is metal as fuck and deeply upsetting
GET OUT OF THERE GANG
And Brandon goes to hell
โ€œItโ€™s not what you did itโ€™s what you doโ€
Hell yeah Niko scare those evil things
Also Nikoโ€™s fit is eating????
The honeypot twink gives you the astrology book instant smash
The old โ€œI love those dudes tell me all about emโ€ maneuver
GUYS I ANNOYED ONE OF MY FRIENDS WNOUGH TO WATCH DBDA!! im gonna be posting his live updates in the reblogs HEHEHEHEHE (the score is what got him to cave ๐Ÿ‘น)
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werepuppy-steve ยท 8 months ago
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had my stepdad's funeral today (not my current stepdad) and hoooooo boy the abandonment issues are in full swing :)
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goblins-and-gloves ยท 4 months ago
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Angry at parents hour!
Undiagnosed autistic fuckers are delulu.
#headline descriptor plus rant in tags#oh yeah sure sibling could have#sat down and studied for his finals#if only he wanted to#bitch you sent him to a school that did not have a special education program#you have been told he has learning difficulties#you didnโ€™t get him diagnosed#you failed at providing him adequate help and tutoring#and yes that was on you because you sent him to a school that wouldnโ€™t do that proactively#on purpose#so they wouldnโ€™t bother you#oh but he is so smart and holds enceclapidic knowledge of d&d and Pokรฉmon in his mind#that doesnโ€™t translate to studying skills and ability to write out his thoughts and you know it#fuck you some things are your fault#and your responsibility as a parent#and now you couldnโ€™t adequately provide education support to your youngest child for three years in a row#even though itโ€™s your fourth autistic kid#you knew the signs damn well#and donโ€™t get me started on dad#he just straight up doesnโ€™t contribute anything to the conversation unless itโ€™s about something that interesting to him#I donโ€™t think you get to do that as a parent?#in the 21 century at least#why the fuck do I never know this manโ€™s opinion on anything except music and fantasy series?#the kicker is those two know damn well you need support to grow in a meaningful way as an autistic child and young person#they were autistic children and young people#they have had support#they have had other peopleโ€™s input#they had support beside irrelevant literature presented without explanation and advice to check the web#where the fuck did they get the idea that a person related to both of them is able to sit down and study without external support and#or a meaningful structure
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limelocked ยท 7 months ago
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Things Iโ€™m currently working on against my better judgement
- dcxdp fanfic where I donโ€™t know any of the components only the crossover fandom
- isekai erased now in round 5 of revisions to the structure/planning thatโ€™s gotten to the point that Iโ€™ve forsaken the spreadsheet Iโ€™ve been working in and am writing in a zine-like booklet instead
- volleyvolleyball, donโ€™t worry about it
- straight up legitimately new norse myths
Backburner;
- like 4 different gay isekai stories in the same universe (solen and his duke, accidentally married the archduke and duchess, I was reincarnated into another world as the northern duke in an adoption story, and a 4th one thatโ€™s just kinda brewing)
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hauntingblue ยท 8 months ago
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YAMATO NEW NAKAMA PLEASE ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿป๐Ÿ™๐Ÿป๐Ÿ™๐Ÿป๐Ÿ™๐Ÿป๐ŸงŽ๐Ÿปโ€โ™€๏ธ๐ŸงŽ๐Ÿปโ€โ™€๏ธ๐ŸงŽ๐Ÿปโ€โ™€๏ธ๐ŸงŽ๐Ÿปโ€โ™€๏ธLUFFY PLEASE!!!!
#do kaido and big mom end up in the same hole??? lmaoo yamato get luffy!!! hell yes!!!#now a military trial for all the beast pirates come on!!! everyone to udon jail#APOO IS STILL ALIVE???. FUCK OFF!!!!!!!#i understand law is not on a state to be a medic but marco.... pick up some slack....#toko :((( no fucking way they are coming out of the hole..... they aren't.... the better not....#HIYORI!!!! no reunion??? :((#tama first girl to adopt a mother... also why do they have the same eyes... also is nami not enough for you.... or luffy.... your uncle...#hiyori girl dont kneel.... thats your 8 year old brother.... tama backstory omg.... tama dont cry omg.... she's gonna make me cry too...#izo is dead for real.... he was shown on the dead people highlight reel.... omg.... kinemon looking like a proud dad...#that hiyori and momo reunion.... i need more... what was that....#episode 1078#talking tag#watching one piece#who tf is that talking to the cp0...#hawkins is alive.... oh now he regrets it.... now he is dead... well.....#can't believe izo is dead... marco saying he cant believe he is alive... WELL YOU FOUGHT TWO TIMES AND THEM DID FUCK ALL WHILE IZO DIED????#i am so mad at this man you dont understand. HIYORI DROPKICKED MOMO AJSHAJA YEAHHH!!!#luffy and zoro waking up at the same time... it started with them too... oof#in my bliss of luffy winning and gear 5 and all i hadn't realised my pink haired samurai hasn't appeared in a while... i fear the worst....#i love how luffy having a meal is animated like a fight... omg zoro too... using his three head technique...#nami being the first to hit momo akdjaks. well deserved also#yamato not bathing or eating for zoro and luffy and hiyori bathing zoro ajdhskjs. omg this looks like sanji is jealous FA-#nami having to think hard about who bathes where lmao sanji and brook need an execution#OTAMA WHAT ARE YOU DOING AJDHSJSHSJ ME ASF ALSO SORRY. also where tf is robin. DID THEY TAKE HER??? oh nvm there is another group...#kid you are so right he is annoying. kill him. come on!!! SAKAZUKI DIE!!!! they just wanna make me mad atp... ALSO WHERE IS ROBIN??#episode 1079#why is there a country with a giant picture of sabo in their clock tower lmaoo#luffy looks so little beside yamato omg.... omg soul king brook ft kozuki hiyori rock version.... AND I DONT GET TO HEAR IT????#robin with her poneglyphs of course.... AND BROOK OWES HER TWO MORE!!!!#MOMOS GRANDFATHER???? AND HE TOOK CARE OF TAMA WHO HAS ORICHIS LAST NAME!!!
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magdaclaire ยท 1 year ago
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someone tell me i don't need to write the father!jamie tartt fic that just sprung into my head whole cloth
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iliveinprocrasti-nationn ยท 1 year ago
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i hate going โ€œhey i might not be up to hanging out im just not doing well mentallyโ€ but also i know if im either constantly panicking or completely out of it while weโ€™re hanging out then it wonโ€™t go well
#got into a fight with my mum because she was like โ€˜well why r u still scared when weโ€™re not seeing massive waves and hospitals arenโ€™t#overrun and this 80 year old family friend has had it three times and is fine every time#and do you look at what people who donโ€™t have the same opinion of you are sayingโ€™#my response to this was โ€˜no I do look at the scientific articles that come out though and most of the ones about covid are finding it does#damage to multiple parts of the bodyโ€™#like. i already have fibromyalgia. weโ€™ve removed the cancerous tumor but i still have iodine radiation and have to hope the cancer cells#they found in my blood vessels didnโ€™t go far enough to spread and if they did that the iodine destroys them#like. is a kid with fibromyalgia not enough. im not doing chemo so itโ€™s fine right just get me sick#does she not fucking remember how it destroyed her husband. she watched it we all fucking watched for weeks as he withered away from this#fucking disease#and then everything we didnโ€™t see we got in twice daily calls from the hospital as they told us how his kidneys failed and they were excited#when he could breathe on his side for two hours instead of just on his stomach and then it killed him#am i the only one in the household who remembers seeing my dad as a barely breathing corpse when we forced him to go to the hospital because#he couldnโ€™t say three words or walk a few steps without panting like heโ€™d just done a sprint#im tired of her making me feel crazy for not wanting this disease im not irrational or insane for this i promise i promise im not#im tired of her coming in 5 minutes after i leave an argument going โ€˜donโ€™t be angry with me. itโ€™s just that-โ€˜ and then making my only safe#place in this house a part of the argument too#fuck it itโ€™s fine Iโ€™m out in a few months anyway#vent tw#sittin g in a corner rn so that the only open space is in front of me and i can pull my legs up to my chest and my fan is on and my windows#are open and im tired of being called crazy and paranoid and irrational#covid tw
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hobisexually ยท 2 years ago
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#hello itโ€™s your weekly scheduled trauma dump on tungle dot com!#I never knew how to explain why I donโ€™t like the holidays right#because yes! Iโ€™m full of love and warmth and want to celebrate nice times with the people I love! absolutely#and I like the coziness and the everything#but Monday it was Sinterklaas and it used to be my favourite holiday of them all#it truly makes me feel like a kid and I used to hold on to this holiday with my tiny fists SO tightly because it was just. pure joy.#minus the racism re: piet obviously thatโ€™s a whole other can of worms I wonโ€™t get into rn#but this Monday it all exploded because of my dad and it was truly a throwback to my entire teenage years#and how it was all about appearances and pleasing anyone but me only to sit in a car and think about how fake it all is and how#that love isnโ€™t. felt. not really. itโ€™s always been about unspoken pain hรจ projects onto everyone else without respecting your boundaries#and I just canโ€™t do it anymore and this time I set a firm hard no and his temper tantrum led to my mum choosing him over me EVEN THOUGH#THEY ARE LITERALLY DIVORCED??????????#โ€˜amber hes crying itโ€™s heartbreaking youโ€™re comingโ€™#yeah well I was also crying at WORK by myself where it is of the UTMOST importance to me they donโ€™t know about any of this#but no no this whole grown man who is in a fucked situation with his family OF HIS OWN UNDOING is who weโ€™re choosing instead of your child#I went! I put on my big girl pants and went and said hi to his family and was more than civil and celebrated with the kids#but it cost me so much. and for the first time ever I saw exactly how much it really cost me#I spent three whole days trying to set a boundary and stand up for myself only for it to be discarded because my No doesnโ€™t matter ever#then I was so stressed i broke my own body in an attempt trying to be civil like my entire cheek is swollen from biting it I literally#havenโ€™t been able to eat properly since Tuesday. my stomach hurts. my headache hasnโ€™t gone. and I am so so so tired I fell asleep at 7pm#and Iโ€™ve been white as a sheet everyone at work could tell something was wrong but they didnโ€™t know What exactly#and just. the contact with this man. I canโ€™t keep doing it not when it does /this/ to me#I canโ€™t even properly explain what itโ€™s like or what happens. just that I canโ€™t do it anymore because itโ€™s tearing me apart and it actively#holds me back? I spent the past four years in therapy talking about and trying to fix everything he instilled in me but is holding me back#in my life. in my relationships. in my work. in the way I look at /myself/#I canโ€™t keep surviving I have to start living#and itโ€™s ALWAYS worse around the holidays. the worst fights and nights of my life have been during the holidays#I am thirty years old and I was suddenly a fifteen year old this week who desperately needed help but wasnโ€™t getting it#and I refuse to live like that ever again. Iโ€™m done. Iโ€™m done!#and itโ€™s deeply sad and upsetting but we canโ€™t fix this. we just canโ€™t.
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