#Sorry Henny

[pinesheep-png]

Took a break from writing in order to practice my Sütterlin (Alte deutsche Schulschreibeschrift) - Spatort edition

[dailyanimatronics]

[ID: a drawing of avenger helen henny wearing the green tux sweater with a smile. one wing is on her chest. her hair is a blonde gradient. there's a filter over the drawing, and it's in soft tones. /end ID]

aannndd were back!

[stimtfil]

commission and sketch for this fic of my friend (henny, staig + trishia)

another her trilogy fics in series (staig, heikyman in bg)

my rusreal staig fic for birthday of my other bestie

[zlataisawsome]

I finally got my lazy ahh to do something 🤩

[sillycatsilly]

“ game on ! “ 👾💛

[vonlipvig]

so I’ve been a drag race fan for awhile and I finally watched conclave and all I can think of is one of those repressed cardinals doing the sasha velour rose petal reveal with that tiny little red hat they all wear

BELLINI'S BALD ASS WOULD. OK MAMA YOU BETTER WORK!

[huffle-dork]

IF you are taking requests... could I get a sick Henny Schneeplestein/silent actor Schneeplestein. Maybe with the stomach flu. It can be a sickfic or a drawing. Which ever you'd prefer! Or both. 😄

(I’m working on some Henrik and Dr.jj related stuff! Mostly how Henny first found himself in this time! So this was before Dr. J meets Alt, and before Henrik meets Bro and Alt! Dr. J doesn’t know that magnificent exists either or the existence of magic- well except whatever the well brought Henrik to this time. so wahoo! Also I got a lot of sick fic requests for Henny so I just lumped a bunch together and then made it worse~ >:3c)

Dr. J had his phone pressed between his head and neck as he bent down next to the actor’s bedside. “Yes… Henrik is poorly again-“

“Again?” The surprised voice of Jackie echoed on the other line. “Damn… that’s been like what… 3 times already? It’s only been a few months since you found him, right?”

The good doctor frowned as he draped a cool wash cloth over Henrik’s forehead. The brunette’s eyelids fluttered and he mumbled something incoherent out in German but he seemed to relax some.

“I suppose the poor boy just has a weak immune system…” Of course, Jameson knew it was a bit more than that… Henrik came from a different time… he was more prone to sicknesses and Dr. J was still scrambling to get him records and vaccines and shots… but he wasn’t going to spill that out to Jackie. He didn’t know- and well… Jameson always kept his patients’ secrets.

“Poor guy…” Jackie sighed. “What do think it is?”

“I think it’s the flu this time unfortunately…” Jameson checked the actor’s pulse then temperature then frowned more. He was very warm… “I’m worried I might need to take him to hospital… but maybe if I’m early I can just take him to the urgent clinic…”

“I mean- how out of it is he?”

“…this morning he tried to make coffee and help me make breakfast for Alice… but he poured milk in the stainer and coffee grounds in her cereal.”

“… maybe urgent care is a good idea-“

Jameson gave a weak chuckle but then sighed, pushing Henrik’s damp hair away from his eyes. “I suppose… I’ll keep a close eye on him… if his temperature rises anymore I’ll take him straight away.”

“Sounds good, dude. Just- if it’ll cheer him up, tell him the kids miss him. They keep asking when they can see Uncle Henny and his puppets again!”

Dr. J smiled and nodded, “That would make him very happy… thank you, Jackie.”

“Anytime Jem! I’ll catch you later.”

Jameson hung up the phone then looked back to check up Henrik.

He was still so pale and thin… thick bags under his eyes and veins so stark they looked almost… purple. Especially around his wrists and neck. If Jameson didn’t know any better- he might could say they even glowed. But, that was impossible.

Henrik’s eyelids fluttered again and he finally opened them enough to see Jameson. He smiled dazedly, despite his fatigue.

“Oh… hullo doktor…” He muttered weakly.

Jameson smiled weakly. “Hello, Henrik. How are you feeling?” He signed to him.

Henrik looked up at the ceiling and knit his eyebrows together as if trying to think.

“Not… good- mmm weak and… and… wackelig-“ He pressed his eyes shut and bit back a whimper. “Is hot… and- my head is super hurting and my… Mein Magen…”

Damn the hardest part of Henrik being delirious was him switching to German… Jameson knew some but he had to rack his brain to remember. “Okay… shaky and- and your stomach hurts-“

Henrik nodded, “Ja.”

“Alright… anything I can get you?”

Henrik slowly shook his head. “I am… just tired I think… thank you, my friend.”

Jameson smiled and nodded, “of course, Henrik… if you need anything just shout and I’ll be there.”

————

It was only about an hour later when Jameson was startled from his paperwork, hearing screaming coming from Henrik’s room.

He raced down the hall and threw open the door- finding Henrik tossing and turning in the bed, sobbing out in German.

“nicht mehr! nicht mehr! Ich möchte nach Hause gehen!”

Jameson’s heart sank as he quickly walked in and then gently tried to rouse the actor awake. It took a second but slowly he started to quiet, breath coming out in shaky weak bursts. He struggled to open his eyes to look at Jameson. His irises were glazed with fever.

“Doktor…” He wheezes, “careful- Vorsicht mit den Saiten…” He gritted his teeth then gripped at his head. It was pounding so bad- it felt like his skull could break in half. “…hurts… s’hurts…!” He quietly sobbed, curling up in the bed.

The good doctor just watched Henrik thrash with worried eyes. He has no idea what to do…! He quickly went to take his temperature but… it wasn’t worse.

He hummed in thought then resigned to do what he did best. He found Henrik’s hand and started to lightly tap a steady rhythm as he pulled out his pocket watch. The actor’s tear filled eyes looked up and caught onto the sight of the watch almost instantly. He relaxed quickly… maybe too quickly. That was also concerning him. But, the least Jj could do was try to calm Henrik down.

“It’s okay Henrik… you are safe… just breathe with me and try to relax okay? I won’t let anything hurt you…”

———

The rest of the night went by in a flash. Always busy, the good doctor was. The nanny brought home Alice and they made dinner together. Alice helped him take in some soup to Henrik- but he didn’t seem all there. Jameson was just glad he ate… then Jj spent the night with his little one, reading her stories and sending her to bed. Shawn was out at a gig so- the house was quiet as the tired doctor flopped onto the couch and leaned his head back. He felt exhaustion weighing down on his limbs- and that force pulled on his eyelids before he could even fight it.

He woke up in a dark living room to the sound of a huge crash. Thunder. Jamie started awake and then fumbled for his phone- turning on the flashlight.

Caught in the light, like an animal caught in infrared was the ragged body of Henrik. Even his eyes seemed to glow green in the dark. The sight sent shivers down Jameson’s spine, especially as lightning crashed behind them, lighting him even more in an eerie glow.

He fumbled for the lights and then looked at the sick actor. “Henrik… what are you doing out of bed?”

Henrik didn’t answer. He was still in his sick clothes, hair ruffled from sleep, glasses missing, barefoot. He stared blankly at the doctor as if he couldn’t understand what he said.

Then, Jameson could just faintly hear a sound. It sounded like… static. Something Henrik wouldn’t be able to hear. He could hardly hear it himself over the distant sounds of rain and thunder.

He walked closer and spied something in Henrik’s tight grip. A… a phone- showing nothing but the offending static.

“Henrik- where did you get that? I… I hadn’t gotten you one-“

Again, the actor didn’t answer- but this time he pushed past Jameson, roughly clipping his shoulder. He staggered slightly but then continued on, despite his shaky limbs and ragged feverish breath. Jameson was thrown off guard and was about to shout out- just as Henrik threw open the door to the storm outside.

He walked out without even hesitating, shambling mindlessly through the rain.

Jameson’s feet moved quickly as he dove after him, pausing just briefly to guard his face from the harsh falling droplets. But then he’s roughly grabbing Henrik and struggling to get in the actor’s face, trying to get him to read his lips.

“Henrik! This- this is insane! You need to get inside right now!”

Henrik blinked sluggishly at the doctor then tried to move out of his grip. “Got… to… h-have… have to….” He’s mumbling, almost too quiet to hear.

Jameson lashes out, going to grab both sides of the taller man’s face so he can focus on him. His eyes burn with concerned anger. “No! Henrik please- wake up! You’re only going to make this worse!”

For a scary few seconds, Henrik’s expression remains blank and empty. But, slowly, that sickly glow seems to fade and his bright blue eyes gain some clarity.

“…d…doktor… Jackson…?” He slurs in confusion. Jameson slumps his shoulders slightly in relief. The actor pushes himself out of Jj’s grip to look around- noticing now where they are.

“We are… outside…” he breathes, as it confused. Then he looks up at the sky and laughs distantly, “it is… raining-“

He shivers and then shuts his eyes. “Mmm… it… fühlt sich gut an…” He sighs. Then, he starts to pitch forward, face and body suddenly falling limp- making Jameson scramble to catch him. They fall into a heap on the wet grass.

Henrik almost immediately starts to wheeze again as his head falls against Jameson’s legs, painful gasps of air coming from his throat. His face is scrunched up in pain. Jameson fumbles to feel his forehead- and even with the cooling rain he startles back from the burning warmth. Jameson frowns then sighs and starts to load up Henrik into his car. It was time to see Dr. Doom again…

Henrik briefly stirred and blearily looked out at Jameson as he was sat up and buckled in. “Doktor… juwel?“ He mumbled.

For a second, Jj smiled. He adopted Jackie’s nickname for him it seemed. “Yes, Henrik… I’m right here.”

Henrik reached out and Jameson was quick to find his hand and give it a gentle squeeze. Through, his fuzzy vision and soaked bangs, Henrik found Jameson’s eyes. He looked terrified, which sent a spike through the good doctor’s heart.

“Bitte, Juwel-lass nicht zu, dass er mich mitnimmt…”

His grip in Jameson’s hand then fell limp again as he slumped back against the window in the car. Jameson’s heart spiked- because he now knows that phrase too well… Henrik had mumbled it over and over in moments like these.

‘Please… don’t let him find me…’

The strange phone that Henrik held was left in the rain- the static flickering with green light.

[henneseyhoe]

also a heads up, maybe one or two more bakery requests after this will be actual one shots, everything after that from the bakery will be headcannons. i feel it’d be easier for me to write it faster that way and get them to yall <3

A Lieutenant's Daughter and a Soldier's Heart

Terry Richmond x BLACK!FEM!reader

Order: Tea (Angst), Coffee (Smut), Smores (Virginity), Red Velvet Cake (Romantic style(at first)), Chocolate Wafer (Forbidden Love)

SUMMARY: You’ve been getting close with a new friend lately, a little too close for Terry’s liking, someone who shouldn’t have even known of your existence in the first place.

🍰 ˚～Henny’s Bakery!

✮✮✮✮

If there was something you knew how to do, it was to attract what you needed to keep away the most, the latest secret from your father being one of his officers. As a lieutenant, your fathers job was to protect and keep things in line. It was a dangerous job regardless if he was in contact with the danger directly or not and because of that, people barely knew you existed.

The stone cold lieutenant with a daughter? No, surely not! He could never love anything; This is what he liked everyone to think.

It wasn’t until you were caught in his office by Terry that the cat was out of the bag (for him at least).

You were no assistant! Not sitting there looking exactly like lieutenant's wife with a younger face, And you definitely weren’t the same party girl he saw at the club last night, not in that uniform.

You two spent half that day bickering, the other half with you begging him not to tell anyone who you were, not to let your father know that you slipped up and told someone, and absolutely not where he first knew you from. The white flag you raised along with a handshake in solidarity and agreement that he scratch your back and you scratch his (blackmail, really) sprouted an unlikely and unruly friendship…And something more you couldn’t yet explain.

I mean, it wasn’t like you two were fucking…you just hung out, kept company. Maybe kissed a little here and there, but Terry was too emotionally unavailable for you to go any further. You wanted to be with him, to give yourself to him, but he was stubborn as a mule, so why force and beg for what you knew you couldn’t have?

So, you tried to move on. Key word: try.

You hadn’t even known Terry was the jealous type until the recent incident.

When he saw you with someone else, going the places you two went, making the jokes you two made together, it ticked something off in him. The way he made you laugh alone had him salty.

“nigga is not that damn funny..” He’d think as he heard your laugh across the room.

He wished he could get away from the both of yall, but unfortunately for Terry, the guy was a private, small fish, and the man who adored you the most was his boss.

Was he better than Terry? Did he make you feel the way Terry knew he made you feel? All different questions that went through Terry’s mind that had him spinning, practically wishing death on a man he didn’t know from a can of paint, to his grandmother's dismay if she knew.

Terry was sick. Even sicker when flowers started to show up.

It led him to start with you all the time, it felt like you two weren’t even friends anymore, if you could even call y’all’s relationship that.

“Why do you care who I hang out with?” You squint at the man, Terry rolling his eyes in response.

“I don’t. I'm just saying. You don’t know this nigga, yall just met and you drinking with him and shit. Since when you start doing all that?”

You stare at him, patience wearing thin. Did he invite himself over just to piss you off? He didn’t care, he was gonna plant whatever seed he could to get you away from him, unfortunately it was just making you hate him a little more.

“It’s illegal to get drinks with a friend? Where was this energy when I didn’t know you and we was chilling?”

“Exactly though! That just shows how irresponsible you are, we shouldn’t even be friends right now! I could have been crazy or some shit”

It was a bit humorous to you, but you couldn’t even crack a smile or else he’d think you weren’t serious.

Licking the inside of your cheek, you huff. “You are crazy. Now move from in front of the door so I can go! You making me late nigga!”

“No. I said no” He repeated.

“What is your issue? Since when did you give a fuck about who I hang around? Since when did I become a top priority to look after? I’m grown”

“I know you are, I never said you couldn’t hold your own-“

“Then MOOOVE!” You nearly sounded like an irritated cow, but you were over the antics. If you had to fight to get out, you would at this point.

“No!”

“Why?!”

“Cause I don’t trust him! I don’t like you being with him or around him, he’s bad for you”

“Oh please, spare me from the lecture, *dad*. You’re just jealous”

He scoffed “Of what? He’s not better than me-“

You smirk bitterly. “See? You can’t even admit it, yet you wanna make a point that you’re better than him... You have a really sick attachment to me, but don’t wanna do shit about it. I’m not about to sit around and wait for you to make the moves I want you to, Terry, find somebody else to do it. Get help, and cope”

Adding salt to injury is all you did. Nothing you said made what he felt better, but it wasn’t like you were trying to comfort him either.

Your expression made Terry move to deflect as a defensive mechanism, but he couldn’t even do that. He didn’t have the heart to gaslight or fight about it, you were damn right.

“I don’t want you to wait, I never asked you to postpone anything for my own personal reasons”

“Then what the fuck do you want from me, Terry? You’re standing in front of the door like you got something to say but shit is coming out of your mouth. You wanna say something? Say it and leave the ego behind”

Thick silence fell upon the room as you gave him the ultimatum of the night, but as he stared with those eyes you admired on nights it was just you two, it only heated you even more. He didn’t care about the ultimatum. He didn’t care to have you stuck, he was too stuck in his own ways.

He stood his ground, quiet like you expected. You chuckle with no humor and shake your head.

“Right. Move so I can go”

“I told you already, you ain’t going”

He took authority like it was already his, and it wasn’t.

“You told me??? Move out the fucking way”

“No”

“Move!”

He shook his head like a bad kid refusing to eat broccoli, a childish gesture that had you halfway ready to use the army knife in your chanel purse.

You squint. “I’m finna move you myself in a minute…”

“Move me? You?” He looks you up and down, kissing his teeth. “You couldn’t move something with wheels”

“You’ll need two pairs of wheels when I'm done. Let’s see if I can move the chair with them by yourself when you get out the hospital”

Terry’s eyes darkened, his face reading an expression you didn’t expect from your threat.

“And this is the part where I’m supposed to be scared?”

You stepped closer with no fear, determined to make it out that door without folding, one of your hands flying up to push him before he caught it in his large hands.

Holding tight, he yanked you closer to him, so close you could feel each others breath.

“Let go of me, Terry” Your voice shook.

“Back up out my face and sit down before I sit you down”

“Sit me down, I don’t care!”

You said that with the initial plan to get back up, but Terry had already cemented in his mind that he’d leave your legs shaking before you could.

✮✮✮✮

Lord knows how many times you wondered how fucking would feel. As vulgar and nasty as you felt thinking about it sometimes, nothing you thought amounted up to how you were feeling right now.

You could only stare blankly into the distance as Terry pinned you down to your own bed and slid into you from the back. You had already been wet from the borderline torturing he did on your clit before hand, strumming the little pearl until your thighs shut around his hand and your sheets got soaked.

You couldn’t even hold a proper arch for him, hips flat on the bed because of leg exhaustion thanks to all the shaking, but that didn’t stop Terry. That just made it easier to keep you from running as he rolled his hips into you slowly, kissing up your neck as if he had loved you for years.

Your moans fell softly from your lips, lipgloss long gone and wiped off somewhere on your good linens. He even talked sweet to you and held your hands while he was in it.

It was like he forgot you were about to go out with someone else before this. He didn’t.

“Could you imagine him doing this to you? Fucking you this good? Cause I can’t” Even now his obsession and jealousy shines through like a jewel in dirt, one pound following each sentence. Your lungs were deprived of oxygen every single time.

“He couldn’t fuck you like this, baby. Say it!”

“He ca-can’t—Ouuu fuck!”

What he was doing to you was straight voodoo, the type dick you could feel deep in your stomach, the type that had you looking stupid in the face, and that you did look.

You felt the tip of him reach the deepest part inside you, pushing further and further until he physically couldn’t go any further. Your poor walls knew nothing better than to hold his big dick tighter inside of you, milking him for all he had.

“Fuck! Don’t wanna let me go, do you? Tight ass pussy” He grunted, expecting no response from you, and none he got as you drooled all on your sheets.

Was this a dream? This was too good. You had no time to think about how your father would kill you if he knew what was going on in your bedroom at this very moment. His best man on the field digging his beloved daughter out like a slut. That’s what was going on.

He left you heaving, begging to be shown mercy after all that shit talking.

“Uhhh! Fuck! you gonna make me cum, Terry!”

“That’s all I want, baby. I wanna see it, give it to me” He spread your cheeks open and watched himself dip in and out of you, your cream sticking to the base of him and coating his trimmed pubic hairs.

“Yes, yes, yesss!” White flashed behind your eyes as you squeezed them shut harshly, your toes curling as you came around him again, flooding your thighs.

“Give it to me!” His hips jackhammer into yours as he pulled your tired hips back up to force an arch and leaned into you, the force of his thrusts sending you up toward the headboard with small nudges until you clutched onto the fitted sheet below you, the fabric slowly being pulled from the edges of the bed.

The sounds you made heightened and your head spun like blue birds were chirping around you to show you had not a thought left.

You could barely hear the string of “I love you”s above your head as he came, shooting ribbons of milky white cum on your back.

✮✮✮✮

💌~AND WE BACK, AND WE BACK! 🙂‍↕️ idk if i got these rankings right, nor do i care either tbh ngl 💀 i hope anon enjoyed tho, sorry for the wait, boo 🩷 and sorry for any mistakes too it’s late lmao <3

[thehoney-queen]

Glamrock Helen henny

My first post sorry if blurry

#helenhenny #chuckecheese #animatronics

#secuitybreach

[baxndaid]

helloooo! can i request nezha x female!immortal reader and their love is frowned upon? (maybe something to do with classes or with his backstory?) thank you!

nezha x reader (most versions apply)

short asf bc im sick and i have so much work to catch up on ☹️

- being a servant to li jing, you often bumped into his son, nezha

- while he was now a lot more constrained, in his younger days he was very disobedient, often dragging you into whatever mess he’s gotten himself into

- you were less of a servant to him, more of a friend - and eventually, something more

- the prince absolutely insisted on hiding any of your interactions from his father since he knew the heavenly king would go mad

- like the third lotus prince courting one of his MAIDS??? dawggg he’s going to strangle nezha so bad

- due to the whole “inferior, superior” situation, nezha tries not to initiate anything, sorry henni it has to be you💔

- due to the monkey king being captured and contained, nezha had a lot of free time, which is rare for him

- he’s using it all to spend time with you WBKK

- erlang would figure out that you two were a unit due to his third eye (and the fact that nezha gets uncharacteristically nervous when youre around)

- he won’t tell, only because he thought you two were good for each other and he doesn’t get paid enough to gaf

- also blackmail purposes

- to conclude, it’s a pretty secretive relationship, but it’s super fulfilling, it gives you something to look forward to after work

lmk masterlist

[agendabymooner]

newsflash ! pierre g. x ofc (singer!ofc)

“i ain’t interested in being a pretty name on your list.”

summary: somebody’s got to humble pierre gasly; enter ensley soleil, a musician who happens to be a friend of a friend of a friend. OR ensley has already written a line or two in songs about a boy like him, but pierre wants to prove to his crush that being ‘liked by pierregasly’ also means that he’ll pursue her like a man she never knew existed.

content warning: willne and rich brian appearance, middleman!lando, “liked by pierregasly” 🤓, use of explicit language, mentions of cheating/past relationship (unnamed ex)

note: talking to a guy so here’s a content hehe (also i noticed you guys liked the sebastian vettel one… good because i would have cried tbh. might update colour me your colour next, then i’m gonna try to update the daniel ricciardo wedding mini series).

masterlist

liked by pierregasly, wroetoshaw, brianimanuel

view 3102 more comments

willne you should come back to uk tbh 🙈 liked by ensoleil

ensoleil i’m quite happy here thx :)

user1 WELCOME BACK TO LONDON ENSLEY !!!!

user2 ok but that man fumbled real hard though 🚩

user3 that man bagged a baddie and cheated on her??? a shame smh

user4 “liked by pierregasly” 💀

user5 as a henny and f1 fan, wtf pierre

user6 pear noticed her post??? bruh. landonorris ain’t that your friend?

user7 how are henny and lando connected?

user6 ensley is friend’s with willne, who is lando’s friend. she’s made an appearance or two in a quadrant video before.

user7 ok but like she lucky tho

user8 she and many girls alright.

liked by willne, charles_leclerc, estebanocon

view 21039 other comments

user1 how far out*** OOOH YOU FUMBLED THIS ONE PIERRE

charles_leclerc i am so sorry for the chances that you will never have after messing up her lyrics

user2 the tote bag, the booktok and LANA DEL REY??? mans down bad fr liked by pierregasly

user3 you’re really working hard huh pierre 😭 liked by pierregasly

pierregasly take every shot you are given, am i not right? 👌

yukitsunoda0511 you’re working too hard pierre 👎

maxverstappen1 because you’re already her favourite 🤣 pierre isn’t even allowed to breathe in her direction

user4 it’s true; i was the glass of daiquiri whenever henny sent him a death glare. mans v persistent tho so mad respect to him

ensoleil you really won’t stop will you, you baguette? liked by pierregasly

pierregasly that’s the least stereotypical shit i’ve ever heard from you and you called me remy from ratatouille

ensoleil sorry 🤓 do u want me to kiss it better

pierregasly no 😊 a date would be really nice though

user5 NAW THIS MAN THINKS HE SLICK

[oddsconvert]

My brain: make friends! Send asks! Exist in more then just your blog!

Me: but what if I'm scared of friends!?!?!

Anyway, can I request Ronan catching Issak hurting Henley?

Flowers for author. 💐💐💐💐💐

Friends!!! It's official! No being scared! <3 I am so sorry for the delay with this but I hope this ticks your boxes! :D

---

“How do you sleep at night?”

Henley stirred awake, his world a blurred mess of throbbing pain. Crusted sleep clung to his lashes, he blinked fiercely to chase away the haze. He could only just about make out a hulking silhouette looming over him. When his vision finally sharpened, he instinctively clutched his scratty blanket closer to his heaving chest - his futile shield.

Cold dread flooded Henley as he saw Izaak, free of the chains that usually rattled with every twitch of a muscle. The chains that kept Henley safe and sound, out of harm's way. Far from Izaak’s reach.  Izaak's fists were clenched so hard his knuckles were white, his face contorted in a feral snarl. Panic squeezed Henley’s chest like a vice. He was a rabbit trapped in a fox's den. 

“Wha-?” Henley’s voice was a hoarse rasp. He’s half-convinced no sound left his lips at all. 

"Oh, did I interrupt your sweet dreams, Henny?" Izaak's voice was a low growl, sending shivers trickling down Henley's spine. That nickname. The way it dripped with mocking familiarity, but years of ingrained fear hid within it. It made all the hairs on Henley’s arms stand on edge. 

Izaak suddenly lunged forward. One massive hand clamped around Henley's throat, squeezing every last drop of air from his lungs. Henley's wrists burned in protest against his chains, straining as he fought for a sliver of slack, a desperate inch to reach his throat and fight Izaak off. "You," Izaak spat, barely containing his rage, "are the reason for my suffering. The cause of my anguish. Every scar on my body has your name written on it.."

Tears pressed from beneath Henley’s eyelids, and he shook his head furiously. Passionately. No. It’s not true. He’s not responsible for this. He didn’t land them here, he didn’t start all of this. This is all Izaak’s doing. This is the price he has to pay. 

“So answer the question,” Izaak demanded, now nearly crushing Henley’s windpipe as he choked and wheezed, “How the hell do you sleep at night? No. Scratch that shit. Better yet. How do you live with yourself? After what you’ve done to me?”

“I-Izaak, pleas-”

Izaak’s fist came at Henley with such speed it was like a cannonball. It connected with a sickening crunch as Henley felt his nose cave in, and hot-white pain erupted. The force of the blow sent him sprawling, the floor rose up to meet him with a jarring thud. He lay helpless. Cool blood dripped from his nose and pooled on his lips, he could taste the metallic tang. 

“You dare call me that again, and I’ll put you six feet under this fucking cement. Understand?” Izaak seethed through gritted teeth, with spit spraying and a vein pulsing from his temple. Izaak didn’t even give him the second to respond, Henley was still reeling and seeing stars. “I SAID, “DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!” he roared. 

“Yes!” Henley wailed miserably. Tears mingled with blood and dirt. He sniffed pathetically and whimpered as new pain flared through his obviously broken nose. He stayed glued to the floor. Too afraid to move, to even dare lift his head up. Henley didn’t see Izaak reaching for his long curls of hair and wrenching them in his fist. Yanking his head back, Henley’s Adam's apple bobbed against his collar as he gasped and gulped back the fear.

“‘Yes’, what?” Izaak whispered. It was hard to miss the element of enjoyment in his voice. It sounded like old times. Must feel like it to him too. 

But Henley immediately knew what he was looking for.

“Yes, sir!” Henley gasped out. There’s not a beat of hesitation. Izaak can say many things about Henley. A bad pet, he is not. 

Henley’s head smacked to the ground, his forehead banging against cold, unforgiving cement as Izaak threw him out of his hand. He’s on a warpath. He paced back and forth, contemplating what to do next. 

Izaak's foot then swung into Henley's gut. The air whooshed from Henley's lungs in a strangled scream that ripped free from his throat. The world lurched sideways, a wave of nausea crashing over him. Bile rose in his throat as pain lanced through his abdomen. Izaak unrolled Henley from his cocoon and straddled his hips, slamming his palm over Henley’s mouth, “Shut the fuck up! Don’t you dare make a sound.”

Henley obeyed. He forced himself to seal his lips, now sobbing silently and huffing through the pain. 

“You got us into this fucking mess. You deserve everything you’ve got coming to you. I’m going to make you wish you were never born-”

“I already do-” Henley croaked.

Izaak doesn’t hold back anymore. He unleashed a flurry of punches, raining blow after blow down on Henley. Henley’s already-battered body convulsed with each hit - he twisted and flailed in a desperate bid to shield himself from the onslaught. It was no use. Darkness cornered his vision, and ringing screeched in his ears. His entire body was slowly growing limp.

Henley squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the sweet relief of unconsciousness. He waited for the next punch. And waited. But it never came. Confused, Henley cracked open a swollen and purpling eye.

Izaak was no longer looking at him, and a flicker of raw terror replaced the unhinged rage that had plagued his eyes before. Henley groaned as he lifted his pounding head, and turned to follow Izaak’s petrified stare.

A shadow shifted at the top of the stairs, a tutting sound emanating from the darkness.

“What are you doing to my boy?” Ronan asked, cool as a cucumber on the surface, but fury bubbled below. The calm facade didn’t last. Ronan flew down the stairs, and pulled that oh so familiar remote from his pocket. In the blink of an eye, Izaak was a quivering, jittering wreck as his shock collar lit up and shocked him stiff. He collapsed from Henley’s body like a tonne of bricks. His screams pierced the sound barrier - his fingers scrabbled and ripped at the collar, kicking his legs and bucking his entire body. Ronan punched the button again, and again until the screaming stopped. It’s just silent gargles, with drool dribbling down the edge of Izaak’s blue lips. 

Ronan threw Henley a single, and quick look as he bolted past. It wasn't a look of reassurance, but a quick flicker up and down to acknowledge him. Reaching his locked cabinet, Ronan fumbled with the combination and finally, the cabinet swung open, and he snatched a vial and syringe, and a length of rope.

He wastes no time in racing over to where Izaak is heaving and panting on the floor, and stabbing the syringe in his neck. Izaak roared, a sound that curdled the blood, but it was cut short by a weak gasp as the muscle relaxant began to take hold.

“There, there. That should settle you down, big-un,” Ronan chuckled, patting Izaak on the chest.

“F-ffuc- fuckk y-yoou,” Izaak slurred, his eyes rolled like pinball machines in their sockets. Henley watches as all the tone in Izaak’s muscle depleted and he flopped lifelessly. Izaak lay sprawled on the floor, a pathetic mew escaping his lips as the muscle relaxant coursed through his veins. His previously violent thrashing had dissolved into a pathetic trembling, his limbs heavy and unresponsive.

Henley's cry echoed through the basement. Now that the threat was neutralised. "You didn't tie him tight enough, sir! He almost—!" His voice choked on the rising panic, his gaze locked on Izaak's slack form. “He was going to kill me.”

Ronan paid no mind to Henley, the shivering wreck that he was. Instead, he focused on yanking Izaak’s arms behind his back. With rough rope, he bound Izaak's wrists together with a vengeance, the knots pulled tight, drawing a choked gasp that did little to faze Ronan. Next, he secured Izaak's ankles with another length of rope, the slack yanked out until Izaak's legs were splayed uncomfortably wide. Finally, with a cruel twist, Ronan bound Izaak's ankles to his secured wrists, hog-tying him in a position that screamed discomfort. Izaak's gasps faded to choked moans as his body contorted in a way it wasn't meant to, forced into an arched bow.

Ronan left Izaak on the ground and approached Henley slowly. With a touch that could have been gentle or cruel, he cupped Henley's bruised and bloodied cheek. Henley flinched at the contact, a hiss escaping his lips. Ronan’s eyes flickered over the damage and he tsked, disappointed. Then his eyes met Henley’s and locked in. “Do you really think I’d let him break one of my favourite toys?”

“He - He got pretty close, master.” Henley snivelled. He flinched as Ronan’s arms moved, expecting another blow, but instead, his arms wrapped around Henley’s tiny frame in a sudden and suffocating embrace. Ronan’s grip was tight, possessive, leaving no wiggle room. Defeated, Henley sagged into the hug and rested his head on Ronan’s chest, letting his eyes flutter shut. It was always easier to give into this than brave the pain. Ronan began to stroke Henley’s hair, twirling it in his fingers. It wasn’t a gesture of genuine affection and Henley was never under the impression that it was. It was Ronan’s sense of ownership. Like Izaak’s claim was the bruises and scars. Ronan’s was more inside than out. For Henley, at least.

“Shh Shh. Come with me. I’ll get you patched up, little one”. Grunting with effort, Ronan hoisted Henley to his feet, a hand wrapped under his armpit to guide him up the creaking stairs.

Ronan turned at the very last step, leering at the sight of Izaak, bound and subdued. "That little temper tantrum of yours was cute, pet" he called down, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "But playtime's over. Now, you get to lie there, nice and quiet, and contemplate all the fun things I have planned for you when your little cocktail wears off. I want you to feel every second.”

----

Taglists!:

Henley taglist: @livelaughwhump @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @sorrowful-hyacinth

Ronan taglist: @kira-the-whump-enthusiast

Izaak taglist: @emmettland @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @sorrowful-hyacinth @whumpsoda

Drabble taglist (which I forgot existed and have recently rediscovered assdfghjkl so will be using from now on unless you would like off it <3 ): @whatwasmyprevioususername @whumpsday @sparrowsage @whumperfully @wolves-and-winters @canislycaon24 @happy-little-sadist @darkthingshappen @whumping-in-the-dark @vagabouund @turn-the-tables-on-them

[skwangmbyul]

rusted [pжавый] - avengers (2012) pt 2 - bucky barnes x tony stark's daughter

summary: tensions arise at SHIELD's helicarier

rusted masterlist

cross posted on archive of our own, ongoing work

warnings: if sometimes the lines are not the exact ones of the movies, it is because i write this fic in portuguese and follow the pt script, then i just translate it, so a few words may be mismatched.

We'll be following the movies, and I'll do everything in my power to keep this story as faithful as possible to the main Earth-616 canon. The goal is to integrate the character convincingly, so in some movie scenes, she’ll only be mentioned.

Henny approached the table where the most unlikely group on Earth was gathered, discussing the motivations of the Asgardian god who was now locked up in the most secure containment cell in the world. Bruce Banner argued that his mind wasn’t the issue because he was insane, while Thor, the other Asgardian god, was trying to find a way to defend his brother.

— He’s not insane, Dr. Banner — she said cautiously, drawing the group's attention.

Natasha stared at her, but Henny knew her trainer’s mind was struggling to focus due to Clint’s alarming situation.

— In fact, everything about his actions shows that he’s not shaken enough to be imprisoned. You need to stay alert. He doesn’t plan on staying here for long.

— And who are you? — Thor asked, intrigued by the sudden arrival of the woman.

— Agent Stark — she smiled but didn’t dare extend her hand to the man. — I’m in charge of the cognitive models department here at SHIELD.

The god frowned at her explanation, a clear sign that he had no idea what she was talking about.

— I study brains, you know, that thing we use to think. I suppose some Asgardians have one?

She didn’t realize the teasing tone in her voice until she saw Steve cough to stifle a laugh and Dr. Banner smiling awkwardly at her.

— Stark, huh? — Thor didn’t seem to take it personally. — You’re more pleasant to look at than your father, but you have the same sharp tongue.

— Anyway — Bruce shook his head, redirecting the conversation. — I think it has to do with the mechanics. Iridium—why do they need iridium?

— It’s a stabilizing agent.

Everyone turned toward Tony’s voice as he entered, whispering something to Coulson.

— That way, the portal won’t collapse like it did at SHIELD.

He walked over to Hennessy, kissing her cheek before moving on to tease Thor, throw sarcastic remarks about the entire base, and, as expected, mention the Hulk to poor Dr. Banner.

Hennessy Stark glanced around to see if she was the only one who had noticed the device her father had planted on one of the computers.

***

— Excuse me — Hennessy asked, entering the laboratory where Tony and Bruce were working, receiving a smile from the latter.

— Miss Stark — Bruce greeted her, but the uniform seemed to remind him of a detail. — Agent Stark? Sorry, I’m not sure how you prefer the formalities. — Doctor works — Tony said without taking his eyes off the computer.

— Oh, really? — Bruce’s look was one of admiration. — I see genius runs in the family. Did you also graduate in physics from MIT?

Hennessy blushed.

— That’s very kind, Dr. Banner. But this field, I leave it to you radical scientists. I’m a Ph.D. in Molecular Neuroscience and Neural Activity Cognitive Processes.

— Which is a fancy way of saying she wants to know who’s crazy and who’s not — Tony now moved closer to the two.

— I didn’t need any training to figure that out about you, Tony — she said to him but winked at Dr. Banner, who laughed, enjoying the interaction between the two.

— Tony? — he made an offended face. — Why are you calling me by my first name, Henny? What did I do?

— I’m working — she shrugged. — It’s Agent Stark to you, here.

— You sound like Pepper when you go into business mode.

— Well, someone has to take things seriously. Dr. Banner — she moved closer to the man, who had turned his eyes back to the computer to avoid looking at them. — I’m going to interrogate Loki now. Do you have any more information for me?

— I’m sorry, Agent Stark — he genuinely seemed sorry. — Not yet.

— Hey, hey, what’s this about you interrogating Loki? — Tony said, exasperated, and Hennessy sighed at the man’s outburst.

— Come with me — she asked him, nodding toward the door. — Dr., can I borrow your assistant for a few minutes?

— Of course.

— Assistant — Tony followed her, irritated. — You’re going to mess with that murderer, Hennessy?

— Lower your voice — she stopped abruptly and turned to face him, causing the older Stark to almost bump into her. Henny looked around and, when she replied, her voice was almost a whisper. — I told you I was developing interrogation techniques.

— Yeah, but I thought you’d let other people apply them, not that you’d do it yourself. That’s not what I agreed to.

— I know — she ran her hands through her hair, trying to remind herself it was just the man’s concern talking. — But we’ve had better results when I do it myself. I’m good at it, Dad — she said the word even quieter, afraid someone would hear and it would sound unprofessional.

— Henny — Tony called, mimicking her tone of voice. — I don’t care what results you’ve had. If you don’t want to do it, just say the word and I’ll take you out of here. Fury can lick my...

— No — she cut him off, very quickly. — I want to. I like my job, and we’ve been having great results. I want to go.

— I can go with you — he made an attempt, anything to not leave her unprotected near Loki.

That earned a small laugh from the girl.

— I don’t follow you every time you put on the suit and go out to fight, do I?

— I just want to protect you.

— I know, Dad — Henny managed to smile at him. — And I know that device will make sure you get alerted if anything goes wrong with the cell containment.

— What? How? — Tony’s eyes widened at her, and Hennessy pulled his wrist, pleased to see that the watch she had given him displayed ‘Surprised.’

[creative99writer]

A Meeting in New York (Part 2) - Jack Draper

Part 1

Part 3

here is part 2 :)

Warning: it's a bit (or very) long

New York City, September 2024.

US Open Championships 2024.

Her first attempt to 'escape' that same day had failed. She felt a bit like a criminal as she tried to get away. The second she stepped out on the floor and tried to get past her hawk of a mother's room, her mom was already out, asking where she was going. Jen had made something up on the spot, telling her mom that she wanted to check out the terrace. Her mom had believed her - but insisted the security go with her. "It's safer this way." her mom had told her and Jen had internally groaned and declined. She'd rather stay alone in her room than be spotted on the terrace with security, looking like she was Michael Jackson reincarnated.  

So that was a bust.

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Her second attempt had failed too. This time, the security had spotted her and demanded to know where she was going. "Just to the lobby, I want to ask them something." So they demanded to go with her, and arriving at the reception, she stupidly asked them where the toilets were. Thankfully, the security hadn't listened in.

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The next day, her first practice was supposed to be on Arthur Ashe - in full public view, without any chance to adjust. Jen wasn't exactly happy about that. "Is there no way to change the courts? At least a smaller one?" she pleaded with the guy who was her contact person of the US Open for her practice sessions. "Please? I don't really want to have my first practice back in front of people, I need a little time to adjust." 

Thankfully, the guy understood her predicament and was sympathetic to her situation. "Sure, I can move you to a private one, so you can have all the privacy you need." he told her, and she smiled at him, grateful. "Thank you so much... Ken." she said as she squinted at his name tag. "That is really nice of you to do that. I can do with a bit of privacy." Ken nodded, and typed away on his laptop while Jen and Sophie patiently waited until they got a new schedule.

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It was a hot August day in New York City and Jen and her entourage were waiting for the player's shuttle to pick her up and take her to Flushing Meadows. She was chilling in one of those engulfing big and comfortable chairs in the lobby. The AC  was not only cooling to her bones but also her mind, which was racing with thoughts about everything that had been going on in the past days. Her comeback, her injuries, her escape attempts - and this one guy that she hadn't been able to find out who he was. To be fair, she had refrained from scouring many Instagram pages or even the draw, but she had looked at the US Open Instagram page and unable to find anything about him. She hadn't seen a picture or anything. So who was he? She couldn't know which nationality he was because he hadn't spoken and she literally knew nothing more than the fact that he made her insides feel fuzzy when he looked at her with this intensity that he had had in his eyes. Jen played with the string of her bag and her phone chain that spelled 'jenny henny', her nickname from childhood her close friends still called her when they wanted to tease her. It was a testament to her cackling laugh when she let loose, which had been a rarity in recent months. 

She was deep in thought and didn't hear as Sophie called her name. "Hey, Jen!" she suddenly heard her voice loud because Sophie had sat down right next to her to nudge her. "What's up, you were completely zoning out!" Sophie laughed. Jen was grateful that Sophie wasn't just her agent but also her friend, because that made working together that much easier and fun. Jen looked up, slightly startled before her face relaxed into a smile. "Yeah sorry." she squared her shoulders. "I was a bit lost in my thoughts there. What's going on?" 

"I just said that I'm going to see where the shuttle is. It should have been here by now." Sophie stood up and Jen nodded. "Yeah, okay." she looked down at her watch and realized the shuttle really should have been here by now. 'Get yourself together, Langfort.' she told herself, took a deep breath and closed her eyes - when she heard someone entering the lobby and she looked up - her heart suddenly not doing what she told herself and did exactly the opposite of getting itself together. 

It was the guy from the day before. He was speaking English with a British accent, she noticed, as he spoke to a guy who was just as tall as the Disney Prince. 'Of course he is British.' Jen internally rolled her eyes. Someone who literally looked like a Disney Prince ought to be British - them's the rules.

He also was as tall as a skyscraper. The day before he was sitting and so she hadn't been able to make out much of his build, other than the fact that he looked fit and like a tennis player (and handsome). But now she noticed he was extremely tall and strong - and definitely a tennis player as he carried a typical Nike tennis bag and two rackets in his hands. "My serve was quite good today." he told the other tall guy who resembled him quite a bit. 'Maybe his brother.' she thought as she watched from her slightly hidden position. He walked past her and stopped as he put his bag down, and she thought she was hidden enough beneath that weird plant that adorned places in the entire lobby - and weirdly blending in with the chairs in her beige brown sports attire from Adidas. But for some reason, he noticed her. Maybe he had felt her eyes on him because he looked to the side where she sat - and soon enough, his eyes locked on hers. She blinked slightly, not knowing how to react. Sometimes, eye contact was awkward - but especially, when it was intense like this. She hadn't really expected this, but didn't look away.  Neither did he. Maybe it was her mind playing games but she have sworn a slight smile crossed his otherwise serious face. It was so brief that she wasn't sure if it had really happened. He didn't look away, and maybe there was a moment of recognition in his eyes - not just at her, but at that feeling he and they both got when their eyes met. Otherwise, his facial expression told her absolutely nothing, it was a perfect poker face, except his eyes that were burning with an intensity that made her insides scrunch up once again. Somewhere, in a completely different universe the tall guy next to him was talking to him but Disney Prince didn't react - or maybe he didn't hear. It didn't really matter, though. Jen and him were both completely transfixed, and she willed something to happen - that he would come and talk to her. However, her manifestation manifested itself in something completely different - her agent.

Once again, her agent interrupted this weird moment. "Come on, we gotta get going before the reporters catch sight of you again. The shuttle's here." Jen, though startled, nodded and broke the eye contact with Disney Prince before she gathered her things and hurried after her agent, the security following her like a wanna-be shadow - it was pretty clear that they were her security. Internally, she wanted to scream - at her security, and Sophie, who once again proved to be completely immune to things that were happening outside her job because she was interrupting a moment. Jen didn't know what that moment met, but she knew it meant something. And as she walked out of the lobby she could have sworn that his eyes were following her. Though she was usually strong with much willpower, her willpower didn't seem to exist in this instance because she couldn't resist turning around - sure enough, there he was, standing with the other tall guy and a slightly shorter older one, watching her, a perfect and annoyingly symmetrical, handsome poker face. She resisted the urge to smile at him - what would she smile at him for - and turned around, placing her bag in the car, before getting in. And only then she realized she had been holding her breath for way too long. 

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"So what was that about?" his coach's voice, James, interrupted his train of thoughts. Jack shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Don't know what you mean." 

"Oh come on. You both couldn't look away from the other." James laughed and Ben next to him raised his eyebrows at his little brother. "Mhm, I'll say. Looked rather hot." 

Jack rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smile at the playful banter. "It was nothing." he played it down, though they all knew it wasn't. "Yeah, definitely, that was absolutely nothing." Ben rolled his eyes. "If that girl hadn't interrupted her, you'd still be looking at each other." he laughed, and James chimed in. "Yeah, at one point I thought maybe you'd man up and go talk to her - but I doubt it. You looked way too comfortable staring at each other like two loons." 

Jack playfully grumbled before picking up his things, mumbling something about 'two bloody idiots' which only elicited a round of laughter from Ben and James. They decided to let the topic rest for now, but Jack knew he wasn't going to get off that easily. First, though, he had to figure this out himself because for the second time in two days he was completely beside himself. 

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The private court was a dream. Jen did love the spotlight - sometimes. When she was at her best and number one, and embracing her star status, she didn't mind it. In fact, she even liked it. It came with the territory, so she had embraced it. But now, she wasn't sure of her level and she wanted to figure it out without the world watching her. They were going to watch her soon enough when she played her first match back on freaking Arthur Ashe. She did get. Her comeback match was huge, so of course they were going to put her on Ashe. But it also meant immense pressure. While she had learned not to define herself and her self worth by her tennis and tennis success, she did think it would be embarrassing to crash out in round one as defending champion. 

'Give yourself some grace. Be nice to yourself.' she repeated to herself - something she had learned in the clinic with a sports and a trauma psychologist. She had learned to be nicer to herself instead of talking down on herself all the time and being her own worst critic. In many ways, she still was her own worst critic - she still expected perfection from herself - but she wasn't mentally beating herself up anymore, if she didn't achieve it. Jen had come a long way.

Practicing felt good. Of course, Jen had practiced quite a lot in recent weeks but she knew it wouldn't be easy and she couldn't for the life of her tell how high her level currently was. Only the first round match could tell her that.

"You nervous?" her coach approached her as she sat on the bench after an intense drill. He could read her like the back of his hand, having known her since she was four years old and professionally coaching her since she was fourteen. "No." she shook her head, but did it with a smile that told him, of course she was nervous. "You know, you don't have to be." Chris, her coach, told her. He was a man in his late forties with a sympathetic and soft look on his face - which was quite a disguise because he was a tough coach, but exactly what Jen needed and never out of line or abusive, like was sometimes the case with WTA coaches and their players. They knew each other inside and out, and they knew what the other could take. In all her years being coached by him, she had developed a good and balanced friendship with Chris, his wife and his two kids. It was good to have these sort of people around and she knew she was lucky. He, in turn, was good friends with her parents, and that mutual trust was definitely part of the reason why they worked so well together. They sometimes brought in new impulses with new coaches, because they both knew that trying something new was a good thing, but it never happened to the extent of her replacing him with someone else. Currently, they were working with Nicolas Massu who had coached Dominic Thiem before and it worked really well, she felt like. The new impulses were good, but she was still nervous. "You can't expect perfection of yourself yet, Jen. Seriously, not yet. You just came back. This is your first tournament in six months, after basically putting your body back together. You can't expect from yourself to be everything you were before." Chris told her earnestly. 

And Jen knew he was right. But they both also knew her thinking pattern. "I know that, I do." Jen sighed. "But it's still hard. I'm always expecting myself to be the best - why else am I here then?" she asked him, and Chris took a seat next to her on the bench. "I know, kid." Chris interjected and smiled as she rolled her eyes, knowing she hated - but secretly loved - the nickname. "I know you always expect yourself to be the best. But you know what? Maybe you should just walk onto the court on Tuesday and do the best you can. If the best you currently can do is getting a double bagel from your opponent, then so be it. You're already extremely brave to come back here and walk onto Arthur Ashe, completely cold turkey basically, at a Grand Slam, not knowing where you stand. You had to start completely new, do you remember that? Four months ago you were learning how to walk again." he reminded her, and Jen sighed at the memory. It had indeed been a long and winding road on the way to her comeback. "So do me one favor: just do your best. When you play the best you can, when you give your best come Tuesday, you know you've given it your all and that's all anyone - but especially you - can expect given the circumstances. And another thing: fuck what anybody else expects. Even me. I don't expect anything from you except for you to have fun and feel comfortable, okay?" Jen swallowed hard, feeling sudden emotions creeping up on her. She couldn't resist the urge to hug him. "Thank you." she whispered, not knowing what else there was left to say.

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Coming back to her room, Jennifer sighed. She really wanted to explore New York on her own a little. She had asked her mom, but her mom had told her "only with security. I'm not letting you get yourself into any danger again." And Jen knew why her mom was like this. She had nearly lost her only child - she could understand where she was coming from. But still, it didn't give her the right to keep her locked up like this. Either way, she had to rest up. She had a match of a lifetime to prepare for.

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It was loud. That much he could tell as he watched the big TV screen in the player's lounge. Several other players - male and female - had gathered round to watch the possibly biggest comeback in tennis in recent times. It had only been six months, but it really wasn't so much about the length of her absence and rather the way it had happened. That terrible car accident. The public didn't really know much about what had happened, or the extent of her injuries. They just knew it was a driver that had run  her over, and that she had suffered horrifying injuries. Jack had to admit, though, as much as he pretended to be unimpressed with the commotion around her, he was extremely curious. Jennifer Langfort had been world number one at the time of her accident, and suddenly she was just ... gone. As an up-and-coming player, of course he knew the landscape of tennis, even women's tennis even if he didn't play with them. And Jennifer Langfort had been a defining figure in the past years as he was battling injuries and playing Challengers, making his way up the rankings. 

He knew he should have been preparing for his match. Jack had gotten a good practice in, he had eaten well and he had all his things in order. He had to focus on himself. But still, curiosity had gotten the better of him. In many ways, it was sort of the event of the year in tennis - her comeback. He was early, and his match wouldn't be on for another few hours, especially considering that the other matches before his were all seemingly going to five sets. Jack knew it would be a long day. And so he settled in the player's lounge, Ben and James and his dad there with him as well, relaxing - and watching tennis matches. There were screens everywhere and they were all showing her match.

The camera didn't leave her for even a second. She wasn't wearing headphones anymore, she had taken them off, so she knew what was going on around her. He wondered what she was thinking in that moment. Jack couldn't really tell, she was keeping a straight face, just like she usually was. Jennifer Langfort wasn't exactly known for her powerful outbursts of emotions, preferring to keep a poker face on court. Only when she was finally winning a match, she would have this big, lovely smile crossing her face, and then sometimes even emotions, like a shout. So here she was, completely straight-faced, in her zone. The people in the stadium could be heard, it was extremely loud. And players were curiously watching her comeback match - Jack was no exception. And then the announcer called out her name, and she walked out onto the court, seemingly calm and confident.

Jack had seen her twice in the hotel lobby, so her sight wasn't exactly unfamiliar. It had been two strange encounters - two that he couldn't really explain. When their eyes had locked, he felt something tugging inside him, as if something told him to walk up to her, to talk to her. But he hadn't dared. Not with that security surrounding her. And he had felt a bit sorry for her too. Jennifer had looked uncomfortable with the obvious attention she was getting, and with the security around her, as well. She looked like she wanted to disappear and he understood why. The attention must be all-consuming at this level. And she looked like a genuinely nice person who just wanted to be treated as a normal human being. Anytime he had seen her interact with someone, she had been polite, quiet and friendly, offering a shy smile to people. The duality intrigued him: this superstar with the dazzling smile on court and the shy, polite girl off it. He wanted to get to know her, two instances with intense eye contact weren't enough to do that. And he couldn't explain those two instances, even if he wanted to. He had wanted to talk about it to his brother Ben, but what could he say? 'I've seen her twice, we held weird eye contact, for much longer than people normally would, and now I really really want to get to know this girl?' No. That was not it, exactly. So what could he do apart from watching from afar? Jack knew his brother was onto him. He had seen it in the way Ben had watched him with a secret smile as if to say 'I see you.' but he wasn't completely ready to speak about his weird sensation he experienced whenever she looked at him. Not yet, anyway. He usually spoke to his brother about everything, but since he hadn't been able to figure this out and because it rattled him to his core, he couldn't talk about this out loud yet. "Hey look, it's the girl you couldn't take your eyes off of." Ben whispered next to him and Jack resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he didn't say anything and just crossed his arms. "What? She got you tongue tied through a TV screen?" Ben continued teasing him. "Shut up." Jack protested weakly, and it wasn't exactly the tough response he wanted to give his older brother. Ben knew he got Jack. "Wow, not so mean, tough guy." Ben's teasing elicited a small chuckle from Jack. Nudging his shoulder, Ben clapped his back. "You know, you can talk to me, right?" his voice softer this time, and Jack just nodded, not knowing what else to say.

"Oy, Drapes." Jack heard someone greet him and he realized it was a fellow British tennis player as he turned around to see who it was. "You watching Langfort play, too? Exciting, innit?" 

"Yeah. Figured I don't have much else to do because it's still gonna be a few hours until my match." Jack shrugged and the fellow Brit didn't notice jack trying desperately to come off as cool and nonchalant about Jennifer - even though he was anything but, and Ben raised his eyebrow at his little brother. "Yeah, no other reason." he whispered and Jack kicked his shin childishly. "Shut up!" Jack whisper-yelled back, but the other Brit thankfully didn't really notice the playful argument going on between the Draper brothers. "Anyway, better get going - I'm gonna get something to eat and watch the match. See you around!" he pat Jack on the back back and disappeared to where the food was, leaving Jack alone with his brother, coach and dad. He turned back to the TV, willing them all to just stay silent and leaving him alone on the matter, but he could definitely make out his brother's slight grin out of the corner of his eyes. 

Jennifer Langfort walked with a purpose, her big comeback ahead of her. Jack watched along with a few other players in the lounge, who were strewn around the various TV screens, as she greeted the crowd briefly, a barely there smile crossing her face. He wondered if she even registered the sheer volume of the cheers. She placed her bag on the ground next to the bench, grabbed her water bottles, a few bananas and then sat down. It was a completely normal pre-match procedure, yet people were eating it up, and once again Jack felt sorry for her. He hoped for her sake that she was in her own world and didn't register the madness around her. The coin toss and warm up followed, she got rid of her jacket, revealing a special kit just for her comeback which made the crown go even wilder. And then the match started.

It was tense right from the beginning. Nobody really knew what to expect. The other professional tennis players in the lounge were quietly discussing the match, expressing their respect for Jennifer's level after her six months absence from the tour. She was fighting, her usual confident and elegant stride carrying her all over the court. But her opponent was strong, and took the first set 7-5. Jennifer took it with a straight face, not letting the world in on her emotions. Jack wondered how she could remain so calm in those circumstances. But maybe it was just a mask. Maybe, he wondered, there was a passionate, emotional girl beneath the layers of calmness and confidence. He did admit to himself that he would have loved to see this passionate, emotional version of her.

The second set was just as tense. She was moving well, finding her stride and looking more comfortable than in the first set. Players were whispering about how there were definite strong glimpses of the Jennifer Langfort from before. Her signature shots down the line were booming, and the rate of her winners went up in the second set. Soon enough, she broke her opponent and it was as if something had opened up inside her, because suddenly she started to visibly push herself, showing a fist and becoming more aggressive. She won the second set 6-4 and immediately broke her opponent for the first game in the third set, setting herself up to win this match. As unimpressed Jack was with the commotion around Jennifer Langfort, as impressed he was with the way she carried herself and how she played, especially after everything that had happened. 

Jennifer Langfort won her first match in six months 5-7, 6-4 and 6-2 with an incredible performance. The moment she won the last point, a beautiful wide smile crossed her face and she raised her arms. Her smile made Jack's insides churn again and he tried not to react outwardly because he knew Ben was watching him like a hawk. The applause in the lounge was loud, it was clear people respected her for her fighting spirit. 

Jack respected her even more for her attitude and her on-court interview after the match. Sure, she would have a press conference after the match - she had apparently requested to have no presser before her match - but it was an entirely different thing to speak to a huge audience in a full stadium. She walked up to the interviewer with a slight smile on her face, the same smile he had seen her with when she spoke to her team in the hotel lobby. "Hello Jen." the interviewer greeted her with a bright smile and the nickname she was known by. 

Jennifer smiled somewhat shyly, twisting her hands behind her back before she leaned in to speak into the microphone. "Hi." she said, and with a simple word, the crowd erupted into loud cheers. 

It was insane, Jack thought. Just a simple 'Hi' and people were literally fawning over her. The effect she had on people with her demeanor fascinated him. If he had been completely honest, though, he would have admitted even to Ben that she looked adorable. It didn't look fake, the way she looked slightly shy, standing there in front of the interviewer - it looked endearing and sweet and honest. Maybe that's why people liked her so much. He watched closely as Jen laughed quietly as the crowd cheered, and she seemed to look back to her box. Jack wondered what she was thinking. His brother nudged him, as he pointed to the screen. "Look at this. That's actually really sweet, isn't it?" Ben asked, and Jack agreed. "Yeah. I hope she doesn't get too overwhelmed though. I can't imagine having to deal with this level of popularity." 

"Hmm... I don't know, I think she was able to deal with it quite well before her accident." Ben had more experience with this topic than him, but to a certain extent it was his job to know these things. "But after what's happened? Wouldn't that throw off anyone?" Jack interjected, and looked back at the screen, furrowing his eyebrows. "Maybe. But she looks quite confident." Ben mused, then added with a teasing tone, "and lovely, don't you think?" Jack gave him a look, but didn't say anything.

Jennifer and the interviewer were still waiting for the cheers to die down a little, which they eventually did. "So, what's up?" the interviewer asked her mock casually and Jen laughed, a sound Jack hadn't heard before. "Nothing much, nothing much." she teased and the interviewer laughed. "How does it feel to be back?" 

"It's nice, could have been faster though." The dig at herself for losing the first set made the crowd laugh, too, and Jack couldn't help himself but smile. It was contagious, her calm voice and her smile coming together to make him realize that he was quite smitten with this girl, even if he didn't really know her. Maybe he should speak with Ben, after all. She chatted to the interviewer with an ease that made him slightly envious. He wasn't a bad speaker at all, but she had the quiet confidence of someone who was used to doing this a lot. Entertaining people, making them laugh and smile. Jack wondered if she was like this off court with friends and family too. 

When she was done with the interviewer, Jack watched as she walked back to her bench and signed patiently for the fans, took pictures with them and talked to them in a friendly manner. He could seen she genuinely enjoyed the contact with fans - and he decided for himself that he liked her. Maybe not in a romantic way, he didn't know her that well for that to happen - but he liked her for the way she seemed to treat people with kindness and a genuine appreciation for them, as well with patience. 

"You've got a crush." Ben deduced, having watched his brother as he watched the screen. "Ssshh, no I don't." Jack's response was weak. "I don't have a crush on her." he doubled down, trying to sound more convincing. "I am interested, okay? I'm definitely interested." It felt weird, admitting this out loud. "But I don't have a crush - I don't even know her." 

"Yes, you do. Maybe not in the traditional sense of knowing someone, but you don't have to know someone to feel drawn to them." Ben told him. "And you're clearly drawn to her. Not just 'interested'. 

"Okay, okay, fine." Jack held up his hands. "I am drawn to her, like you put it. But what should I do about it? Walk up to her? Out of nowhere?" 

"It wouldn't be out of nowhere. You've been watching each other like these weird couples in rom coms." Ben rolled his eyes. "Do it like you said. Walk up and talk to her. You're not normally this shy." 

"I'm not being shy." Jack rolled his eyes. "I just don't want to embarrass myself in front of her. And her bulls of a security. Seriously, I've never seen this much security around a tennis player. Not even Roger, Rafa or Novak." 

"Yeah, well, I've talked to someone from the US Open staff about this, because I was wondering myself. Apparently, it's her mom that has arranged that - not her agent, and definitely not Jennifer Langfort. To me, she always looks extremely uncomfortable with them." Jack looked at his brother with wide eyes at this new information. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, that's what they told me." Ben shrugged. "Seems to me like she'd rather not have them, but her mom is incredibly over-protective. Didn't use to be like this, but after what happened..." Ben trailed off. It was clear what he implied. "That's her daughter and she wants to make sure she's okay and that there is always someone ready to help her, I guess. I can somewhat understand where she's coming from. But it can't be easy for Jennifer."

Jack hummed in agreement, turning back to the TV as Jennifer just walked off court, accompanied by a big applause. Soon enough, her press conference was going to start.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So, tell us everything." one journalist told Jen and she laughed. "Everything? I'm not sure that's a good idea." she teased and the room laughed. People were in a good mood. Jen was in a good mood. For some strange reason, she had missed this - the press conferences, even the sometimes stupid questions. It had been her routine for years, and she had been used to it. So it was strangely good to be back. But not only that - it was so good to be back and winning. She had missed tennis so much. The rush, the crowds, the problem solving, the strategic thinking, the moving around the court, the atmosphere. Suddenly, she was grateful that she had been forced to play on Arthur Ashe. She had nearly forgotten how much she loved playing in front of big crowds and putting on a show for them. Now, however, it was time to get a little more serious. She knew the people expected answers. 

"So, you really wanna know everything, huh?" Jen cleared her voice, her eyebrow slightly raised. "Well, then, I will tell you everything." she pushed her chair slightly back and made herself more comfortable. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

People were curiously watching Jennifer's press conference. It was her first in over six months. Finally, everybody would know what really happened that night in Indian Wells. Jennifer looked relaxed, but slightly apprehensive, Jack thought. As if she tried to stay calm but really wasn't. But maybe that was because what she was about to say would have made anyone emotional - even if they weren't necessarily the emotional type.

"So..." she started, "the night of the quarterfinal match in Indian Wells, I decided to take a walk - unfortunately on my own, at night, in the darkness. I had nearly made it back to the hotel, and there was nobody really in sight around me, when I suddenly heard this screeching sound... like screeching tyres." Her voice was calm, and she nearly told the story in a conversational tone. Jack guessed that maybe that was her way of trying to keep her voice from shaking. 

People were leaning forward, trying not to miss even a word of Jen's explanation.

"I didn't really have time to, you know, react. I'm a tennis player, my reflexes are quite good normally." she chuckled, but it was without humor. "But this time, I didn't have a chance at all. The car was way too fast. I barely had time to look up before I ... went." the rooms were quiet - both the press conference room and the lounge. Nobody dared to say anything. "I don't really remember much, except an excruciating pain all over my body, and that the car was obviously quite... sturdy. It's not exactly fun to feel a car in your side." she chuckled again, maybe trying to loosen the tension or to keep her voice steady. Nobody laughed. Nobody said anything. What could they say? "As I said, I don't really remember much about what really happened, except for the car that ran me over and the pain, and that the car didn't stop after it hit me..." 

The last piece of information elicited shocked gasps from some of the journalists and the players - even Jack and his brother. 

"That's bloody insane." Jack breathed as he watched the press conference and shook his head. His brother Ben next to him nodded. "I know. Imagine completely minding your own business and suddenly out of nowhere a drunk driver runs you over and then drives off, leaving you there to die basically." 

A hit-and-run? Jack's long frame, leaning against the back of the couch, matching his brother's moved up, so he stood tall, as if that was a better way to digest that information. "My God. I can't even begin to imagine what she went through. If someone hadn't found her..." he drifted off, not daring to voice out loud what this implied.

If Jennifer hadn't been found at the side of the street, she would have been dead. Lying there like a piece of trash. 

What Jack hadn't dared to say, Jennifer did - "I was lying there at the side of the road for... I don't really know how long, I was unconscious, at least after a while. A local woman found me lying there and called an ambulance. The doctors later told me that if she hadn't found me, I would have died." 

Her words were calmly spoken, almost clinical, without much emotion. There was a certain hesitance in her voice as she spoke, and she talked slowly as if to carefully measure her words. Jack felt his heart speed up, feeling for this girl who had so much to carry on her shoulders. Maybe she was able to fool the world, but he could see she was trying to keep emotions in check by deflecting with humor and nonchalance. She went into the details of her injuries and the long list made Jack's head spin. Considering that list, wasn't it basically a miracle she was here? 

"They found the driver who hit me after a few hours, but I was in a coma by then." Jennifer continued and Ben drew in a breath next to Jack. "A few hours?!" Jack didn't say anything. It seemed to him that he had lost the ability to comment anything on this because it just more terrible anytime Jennifer opened her mouth to tell her story. 

"He was severely intoxicated." Jennifer went on, and finally Jack let out a "Bloody hell."

"I know, right? What the fuck is going on with people?" Ben fumed. He was clearly as pissed off as Jack was. 

Jennifer continued with her story. "I was in a coma for two weeks because my injuries were too severe. I woke up and couldn't really move for about the next two months. I had to relearn basically living my life." Jennifer's voice was calm, the rooms were eerily quiet. "The guy who had hit me had been extremely drunk and claimed that he hadn't even noticed hitting someone. The police and the courts didn't believe him. And I don't believe him either. You're bound to notice a body smashing into your car. At least I would." Jennifer said with a dry laugh, and once again Jack noticed her tendency to deflect. "He was sentenced to seven years."

"Fuck." Jack breathed out shakily. "That's even worse than anything the media has written about this." Nobody had mentioned a drunk hit-and-run, or the sentencing. The media was for sure having a field day with this. 

"Anyway, enough about me. What happened while I was gone?" Jennifer sat up straighter, trying to lighten the mood and the journalists chuckled slightly. 

Jack wanted to go to the press conference and tell her to stop trying to deflect with humor - everything that she had been going through entitled her to be emotional. But he knew that being vulnerable in front of the whole world was scary, and so - just maybe - he would have liked to hug her tight and try to comfort her.

The press conference went on, with a few bits about her injuries and time away here and there, as she spoke about Aryna Sabalenka and Paula Badosa visiting her, her treatment and her way back. Jack couldn't - or wouldn't - lie, it was impressive, the way she had fought back. 

His train of thoughts got interrupted by his dad who told him it was time to get ready. Jack told his mind to stop thinking about Jennifer Langfort and get into the zone for his match. 

[ronandreams]

🥝

hi jeff!!

i'm sorry i keep doing this, but first i have to recommend @trainingseasons 😊 my dash has been so pretty and funny ever since i followed you. if you guys like pop girls and movie content, you must follow jeff!! jeff also is a meme machine and i am always laughing at your posts 😂 you are also very sweet-hearted and you care about people, and i love this about you.

and i recommend @aredhels !! if you aren't already following hennie, here's your sign to do it! her blog is a long-time favorite of mine. if you love book content, lotr, and star wars, her blog is literally the place to be. she had made sooo many good edits as well, which i'm obsessed with. you should also take a look at her sideblogs, they are SO good omg.

for every 🥝 i get, i’ll recommend a blog i love

[in1-nutshell]

Hello again, I would like to request a continuation of the story of Henrietta Pam and James Van Dyne

Maybe something about their daily life at the base.

Or about their interactions with their new team members and other superheroes.

The insect duo is back! Time to see what little misadventures and activities they have been going through.

Hope you enjoy!

Henrietta and James: Slice of Life

SFW, Platonic, Human reader

YJ

With all the hero’s work around, Henrietta was backed up a bit on her work for the university.

She didn’t know how this new scheduling was going to work out in the long run.

She was already running on fumes with her late-night projects and work at the cave.

James on the other hand seemed to be taking everything in stride.

He was the happiest that she had ever seen him, now to think about it.

Being a hero now meant that he was barely around the lab anymore.

Instead, James opted to stay around the mountain and flying around.

As much as Henrietta cared for her friend and covered for him in his duties, she couldn’t help but feel ignored.

James was one of her only friends around her age, so his absence was much more noticeable.

Henrietta gets a call from James. She eagerly answers it. Henrietta: “James?” James: “Hey Henny, just calling to let ya know I’m staying with the guys a bit longer today.” Henrietta deflates a bit. Henrietta: “James you can’t keep doing this. I keep on doing your work—” James: “Which you are doing a great job at, by the way. You know you’re the best at this Henny.” Henrietta sighs. Henrietta: “James…” James: “Please! Just one more time Henny! Please! Next bookstore and food run is on me!” Henrietta: “…I’m too good for you James. Go on, I’ll handle things here.” James: “Yes! You are the best Henrietta Pym!” Henrietta: “But this is the last time—” James: “Thank you Henny! Again, you’re the best!” The phone hangs up.

A few minutes later the door to her lab opened.

Without looking up, she politely asked whoever was there if they had an appointment.

Batman’s voice snapped her out of her concentration.

She banged her head on the table before hurriedly standing up straight to face the Dark Knight.

He shortly stated that she was needed at the Watch Tower.

Henrietta simply nodded and followed him while hurriedly grabbing her equipment.

If Batman told you to go somewhere, you just go.

Next stop, the Watch Tower.

This would have been Henrietta’s first time up there.

She couldn’t help but let her excitement spill out seeing the advanced technology and get a front row seat to the planet through the giant window.

Henrietta missed Batman’s little smile.

After the little moment of excitement, the two got to work on the issue.

The issues that was…

… There were ants in the Tower.

…A tower in space had been infected by regular Earth ants.

…

Batman stated that no matter how much the team and cleaning staff had cleaned somehow the ants had managed to make some sort of nest.

Henrietta looks at Batman absolutely baffled. Henrietta: “So let me get this straight. You came to get me from my job… to solve your ant problem?” Batman: “Is that a problem?” Henrietta: “Not at all! It’s just… not something I expected honestly.” Batman: “And I didn’t think I would have ants in space.” She snorts a bit before composing herself. Henrietta: “Let me see what I can do—WOAH!” A blur passes by her nearly making her fall if someone hadn’t caught her. She had been around Wally enough to know when a speedster was around. The Flash gave an apologetic look before setting her up straight. Flash: “Sorry about that. Wait your that ant hero aren’t you?” Henrietta: “I go by Ant Girl sir.” Flash: “Oh, there’s no need for that formality with me kid. But you are here for the ant problem, right?” Henrietta: “Yeah, but I don’t think—” Flash: “Oh thank goodness! My granola is saved!” Meanwhile with the rest of the Young Justice… The team is at the beach having a blast. James is sunbathing. M’gann and Kaldur walk over. M’gann: “Where’s Ant Girl? Did she not want to come?” James waves her off. James: “Don’t worry about it. Henny’s fine. She’s having one of those lab days. As long as she doesn’t stay there for more than 3 days it’ll be fine.” Kaldur: “Surely that isn’t healthy. And what happens after 3 days?” James shrugs. James: “Don’t know. Maybe she turns into an ant?”

Back at the Watch Tower.

Turns out the problem was a bit more… complicated than originally thought.

After shrinking down, Henrietta had taken Antony down into the cracks of the Watch Tower.

She was surprised at how many nests there were down there.

Thankfully the ants were nice enough to hear negotiations.

They were surprisingly very polite as well.

Henrietta had the ants’ words and grew back to size.

Henrietta: “I have their demands.” Wonder Woman: “The ants have demands?” Batman: “They want demands?” She just shrugs. Pulls out her notebook. Henrietta: “First off they want some—" Green Lantern: “You actually took down their demands!” Henrietta: “Are you going to continue to interrupt me?” Some leaguers blink in surprise at the girl’s sudden talk. She clears her throat. Henrietta: “Top of the list, granola. They want the sweet granola bites Flash keeps on dropping near the trash bin. Only the brand Flash gets, and I quote ‘Flash gets the honey bites with the big walnuts in them. Under no circumstances will you get Green Lantern’s. Hal Jordan only gets the off brand one’s. Bret ate one time and lost 2 of his legs.’” Green Lantern blinks. Green Lantern: “How—How does the ant know—” Henrietta: “The ants know a lot of things Mr. Jordan. And for the record, yes, I did meet Bret.” Flash to Batman: “What do you think Bats?” Batman: “… Is there more?” Henrietta: “There is actually. A whole list, sir.” Batman: “Read it all.”

The ants demands mainly revolved around extra food and a safer place to nest.

Henrietta was asked to take the ants home, but she mentioned her housing situation was currently at the base since her apartment was no longer an option.

After a few more hours of negotiations between the Leaguers and ant colonies, peace was made.

The ants would not wander in restricted and crowded areas if they were given a bigger and safer home with plenty of food.

Specifically with Flash’s sweet granola be stockpiled.

And one more demand that had to be made.

That Henrietta would come and visit weekly.

At the Cave… The team is walking in from their day at the beach. There is a bundle on the couch covered with a blanket. Artemis: “What’s that?” James looks over and chuckles a bit. James: “Its probably Henny. That’s her blanket.” Connor: “I can take a look—” James runs over and leaps on the pile. Artemis: “Or just jump on the pile.” James: “Geez Henny did you forget to eat? Why are you—AAAAHHHH!!!!” The team runs up to James who jumps back from the couch. There is a human sized ant on the couch. James: “SHE TURNED INTO AN ANT!” M’gann: “I thought you said she would be fine before 3 days!” James: “So did I!” The ant starts raising its mandibles in defense. Robin: “Sheesh, you weren’t kidding about her liking ants so much.” Henrietta walks in with more blankets and some cookies. Henrietta: “Bret I tried finding more nuts, but I only found—” She stops seeing the team and the giant ant. Henrietta: “Oh! You guys are back. See Bret, I told you they’d come.” James: “Henrietta Pym why did you make one of your ants big again!?” Henrietta: “First off James von Dyne, I don’t think you are in the position to lecture me. Second, he wanted to come back to earth after being in space.” Connor: “Space?” Kaldur: “Again?” Wally: “…You did not just name the ant Bret.” Henrietta: “That’s his name Wally. If you have a problem with that bring it up to him.”