#because SOMEONE didn't return their equipment

[kessielrg]

If you are a student athlete and take a class that requires borrowing video equipment, don't effing lie about where you are if that place is still within a day trip from where you are to campus.

Bro, we talk to your coach. We can get you off the team because you're hording thousands of dollars in that plastic, metal, and glass vessel. We can even go to ACADEMICS and get you suspended.

We can make your life hell.

[mariamlovesyou]

tuned into Plestia's live with Rahma Zein's second account (she got shadowbanned). key moments:

plestia talked about her adjustment to living in australia. "it's 1:30am now and it's normal for me and many palestinians who live abroad to be awake hours into the morning. i am scared of sleeping. because of the time difference, i'm scared if i sleep i will wake up to bad news. in gaza i was scared of the sound of the bombs, here i am scared of the quiet."

contacting family and friends in gaza is near impossible. "sometimes i feel like a crazy person, calling 20 times in a row hoping that on the 21st time the call might go through."

on the destruction of entire communities and neighbourhoods: "i'm scared when i go back to gaza i won't recognise it anymore. someone sent me a picture of my neighbourhood, and i couldn't tell it was mine at first. all my favourite places, cafes where the aunties used to give me extra food and ask about my day, have been destroyed. i dread looking at my gallery or seeing snapchat memories because most of these people in the pictures are no longer alive."

rahma asked plestia to talk about one story that stuck with her. plestia said "i remember walking one time on the 'safe corridor', that's what they called it anyway, and i saw an older woman clutching onto a donkey cart where her son's body was, refusing to let go of it. i asked my colleague what the smell was, he said it's dead bodies under the rubble. it was the first time i familiarised myself with the smell. the son's body was decaying and the woman told me about cats and animals eating away at it. i've had children talk to me about birds eating away at their parents' decomposing bodies and not being able to chase them away."

"it seems so silly to go to hospitals for minor sicknesses now. i can't even think about how many palestinian children are going to be terrified of hospitals now. there was a girl who was taken to the hospital to get treatment for injuries by one of the bombs, and while she was in the bathroom another bomb landed nearby. the impact from that sent the ceiling crashing down on her.. she got another injury while getting treated for her first one."

"i hate how people talk about our resilience - as if it's okay that this is happening to us. we are only surviving because we have to, because we have no other choice."

rahma brought up the way family homes are set up in palestine and asked plestia to elaborate. "basically, there are floors. someone will live on the ground floor, and then their married son lives with his children on the floor above them, and then their successors above them and so on. so when family homes are targeted, they wipe out entire families. many families officially no longer exist."

"i used to wear my journalist helmet and vest all the time, felt naked without it, even slept with the vest on sometimes until i realised it only made me more of a target. they didn't give me any protection, only headaches and back pain."

"i am an optimistic person, i loved covering sweet sentimental things, like at my graduation asking parents of top graduates how they feel about their children graduating. that's what i love reporting on. i wanted to cover things like that when i came back to gaza, show the beautiful side of gaza that the media didn't really show, but i didn't have the chance." "do you think they'll give you right of return?" "i can only hope."

plestia mentioned how hard it was being a journalist with limited access to the internet, charging facilities, no mics, lack of equipment and how difficult it was uploading things. rahma asked her what's one story that wasn't really recorded or posted due to these constraints; plestia said "the evacuations. sometimes they informed us about them, sometimes they didn't. you have no idea how hard it was, everyone looking for their family members, making sure every one was there, taking to the streets in 5 minutes and not knowing which way to go. i remember i went to my friend's house for shelter for 30 minutes before the first evacuation was announced and we ran to another family's house, stayed there for 2 days before another evacuation was announced. me, my friend, and that family all evacuated together to another family's house. there were already so many people there seeking shelter, it wasn't just one family staying there. none of us knew how long we had in any place."

before october 7th, palestinians were used to limitations on electricity. plestia used to plan her day's tasks around when the electricity was working. "for example when the electricity was on from 12 to 4, i would say i will do my laundry and charge the phones during this time. life wasn't exactly 'normal', but all of us pray to have those days back in comparison to what we are experiencing now." plestia also said that cars are running on cooking oil now because there is no fuel.

on hygiene: "many pregnant women have to give birth without any pain medication or medical attention. once we ran out of medicine, that was it. women who had to get C-sections couldn't stay to recover or get followup treatments because someone else needed the bed. we have no water, no tissues, no pads, barely any bathrooms. in the shelter schools you have to wait an hour before even getting to use the bathroom because of how many people are there."

"something you don't hear about is how many people die because of sadness. there's so many ways to die in gaza, because of the bombardment, because of starvation, the lack of resources, but i also know many elderly people who died because their hearts couldn't take it anymore. i have been in gaza before and lived through 4 aggressions, but nothing compared to this one."

a recurring sentiment that was echoed in the video: "sometimes i thought to myself: who am i recording this for? because we've already shown everything, we've already talked about everything. everything has already been said, the proof is everywhere, nothing i talked about today is new." rahma said the first video posted about what's happening in palestine should've been enough.

she is 22 today. plestia's closing words: don't stop talking about us, don't stop boycotting, don't stop protesting, please don't get bored of fighting for palestine.

[tomhardysprostate]

x

[hannieehaee]

Thinking about doting woozi awakened something in me hnnng something about a tsundere man being soft is so fucking cute like you just KNOW he'd be so awkward abt it at first but as soon as he knows that you like it and even WANT IT from him he'd be the softest man on earth

content: bf!woozi, established relationship, pure fluff, woozi is starving for affection and doesnt know how to react to it!!

wc: 610

a/n: i know this wasnt a request but i had to turn it into a little drabble bc im so obsessed with him and wanna take care of him so badly i just need to manifest that need into writing</3

masterlist

the first time you took care of jihoon was subtle. it barely went noticed by him at first, but when he realized, he couldn't help but recoil to himself. it was odd, really, to have someone care for you in subtle ways. it wasn't expected.

in reality, it had been quite simple. walking into his home studio, he almost missed it due to his organizational habits, but upon closer inspection it was obvious. you had cleaned up.

not only had you done the usual superficial upkeep that he was accustomed to doing, but you'd dusted! you'd moved every figurine, every bit of equipment, every movable object, basically, and dusted it before placing it right back where it belonged. the air smelled clean too, courtesy of your good taste in cleaning products.

the cleanliness gave him a newfound energy, especially due to knowing it had been your act.

next time he saw you, he was a bit embarrassed to thank you, but still managed a hug and a suspicious 'love you' murmured against your lips without any further explanation.

~

cleaning his home studio became a more common occurrence after a while. jihoon had at some point formally expressed his gratitude for it, but also added the lack of need for it. he felt badly having you clean for him, so he shyly stumbled his way into telling you that it was okay! he wouldn't want you to tire yourself with such a task!

this was met with a squeeze at his hip and a giggle as you let him know that you didn't mind. he was rarely at home while you worked from home, so cleaning just became a natural part of your day.

he accepted this with warmth in his stomach. it was nice that it didn't feel like a responsibility to you. you just did it because you wanted to help him. he liked being helped.

this came along with various other acts of service you'd do without question. acts which continued to make jihoon's heart flurry with a mixture of gratitude and bashfulness.

the list was quite long, once he took a minute to really think about it.

you'd drop in with lunch for him and his bandmates every so often (which was quite a feat considering the number of friends he had), you'd brush his hair any time he let it grow a little more (claiming you just had that magic touch — which, granted, you did), suddenly he'd have socks on his feet when he woke up on a cold night, would find a brand newly knitted scarf on his way out the door in the morning, his kitchen would be stocked with his favorite coffee mix. there were too many tiny details to count.

jihoon always tried to return the favor, but would always feel like he lacked. no one in this world could compare to how doting you were, he'd decided.

worst of all was the viscerally embarrassing way in which he'd react at your acts of service.

he'd always known himself to be bad at receiving love, but he had thought that being with you would teach him a thing to do. the reality was, though, that the stuttering and the blush on his cheeks would just become a staple every time you so much as removed an eyelash from his cheek.

he sometimes wondered to himself, did you realize? how affection-starved he was? how much he truly appreciated your affections despite being the worst at verbalizing this gratefulness?

but the answer was found in the kiss pressed to his cheek any time he'd stutter his way through a 'thank you, i love you.'

[3liza]

here's what I've learned to never pay full price for, because people are giving these items away for free or almost free on Craigslist, Nextdoor, Facebook, at Goodwill, and on eBay (which has a local pickup section) in every sufficiently populated location in the USA.

cost of acquiring these items ranges from "carrying it home from the sidewalk" to "getting a friend with a car to help you pick it up" which is the same amount of effort as going to IKEA for worse quality that costs more, with the notable exception of it being a pain in the ass to coordinate with craigslist sellers, and you often have to wait and watch for what you want to actually show up. it took me about a year to find an acceptable gamer chair left out on the sidewalk, for example. but they cost $100+ new, so I chose to wait.

a lot of this stuff is the kind of thing you don't necessarily intend to keep, just to use in transitional housing or until you can afford a better one.

1. printers of any kind. basic office inkjets are free. ink is easily refillable or has generic ink cartridges way cheaper than brand name for any inkjet up to about 2015, not sure how difficult the newer smart printers are to hack but there's no reason to own a newer one because printing technology has not improved since about 2005. you want a color laser for making zines and wheatpastes? it's on Craigslist RN and someone's mom is desperate to get rid of it

2. bedframes

3. desks

4. tables

5. chairs

6. bookshelves, nice oak bookshelves that don't bend like al dente spaghetti when you put books on them, are rotting on sidewalks rn because they didn't fit in someone's house. go get them

7. scanners. I find a working scanner by a dumpster at least once a quarter, and I don't pick them up because I already have one that I picked up from a dumpster years ago

8. hot tubs. everyone thinks they want a hot tub and that the maintenance and upkeep will be worth it, and they are wrong. Craigslist.

9. sofas, with the caveat that if you are in a bedbug region like New York State you need to be very confident in your bedbug screening skills

10. quality leather shoes. these last forever and are expensive new. eBay is best for these

11. plates, glassware, silverware. all of these are able to be sterilized to whatever standard you feel comfortable with but if you eat in restaurants you've already put a fork in your mouth that hundreds of people have drooled on so try not to fool yourself

12. televisions and computer monitors

13. houseplants. similar to the bedbug warning above, you need to screen these for pests like fungus gnats and mealybugs

14. dressers, wardrobes, china hutches, cabinets, chests of drawers, etc

15. mirrors

16. clothes hangers

17. moving boxes

18. mattresses to a certain extent. I don't like secondhand used mattresses but unstained, unused mattresses are surprisingly common, especially since the foam mail order mattress boom started and people keep getting told by the mattress companies to just get rid of/keep any mattresses they want to return for flaws or wrong sizes or whatever. bedbug warning on this obviously

19. sheets and towels. you gotta launder them obviously

20. basic clothing, especially for kids. normie type clothing is so numerous people often just throw them away because they can't get anyone to take them

21. kitchenware like cooking utensils and pots n pans. don't use chipped or scratched Teflon/nonstick if you can help it. everyone needs one basic steel chef knife, which can be sharpened and maintained indefinitely. people throw these away CONSTANTLY

22. household consumables like laundry soap and dish soap. people often accidentally buy the wrong brand, scent, or develop allergies and want to get rid of extra

23. pet supplies like collars, leashes, dog crates, litter boxes, litter itself, dog beds, toys, carriers, etc

24. medical equipment of all kinds. people who take care of all kinds of patients end up with tons of leftover, sealed, miscellaneous stuff when that person recovers or dies, and they often give it away. adult diapers, hospital beds, IV stands, crutches, walkers, wheelchairs, fracture boots and splints, knee braces, canes, catheter packs, ice packs, heat packs, sterile paper sheeting, gauze, slings, over-the-door stretching and rehab pulleys, mattress protectors, etc

25. washers and dryers, both the basic household cube type and the small twin tub or rock tumbler type. people upgrade these when the old ones are still working, just squeaky or a little weird or sometimes just old

26. vacuum cleaners. secondhand ones are sort of icky but you can get rid of the ickiness by wiping them down with a rag and isopropyl alcohol inside and out. use an exacto or utility knife to slice off the hair and string wrapped around the roller. buy a new filter on Amazon. people throw away vacuums that work perfectly all the time because they don't actually know how to clean them out or do maintenance. bedbug and pet hair warning obviously

27. microwaves

28. refrigerators

30. lamps

31. any kind of exercise equipment including stationary bikes, ellipticals and weights/weight benches

32. any kind of piano. there's a grand on my local Craigslist for free rn

33. scrap wood and lumber

34. pallets

35. wood shipping crates

36. newborn, toddler and baby equipment like breast milk pumps and storage, bottles, bottle racks, diapers, etc. anything a little guy will grow out of fast will end up being given away

37. air conditioners, humidifiers and dehumidifiers. these will be most numerous during their respective off seasons

list updated 2/13/24 based on recent Craigslist trawling

38. jars, both canning type jars and clean food jars like from pickled or jelly bought at the store

39. rugs. most of my rugs are sidewalk finds. rugs will almost always be dirty. a decent consumer grade rug cleaner costs under $100, it's cheaper to just buy one if you have the space to store it. flushing the scavenged rug with soap, hot water, vinegar, alcohol, etc will clean almost anything but huge bedbug and allergen warning on this item

[thevoidstaredback]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

Dick had to give it to the kid, he'd somehow thought of everything. It was a little concerning, actually, but the kid had brushed off every attempt had probing for answers. Who trained him? If he was trained at all. ...had the kid gone into vigilantism alone? Oh, dear. THat's not good fro Dick's current worries.

Reading the file Danny had handed him, Dick had to wonder how long it had taken him to put together this cover story. Also, where he'd managed to get the equipment to do it. At a glance, the kid didn't seem to have much on him. Not even a phone!

He closed the folder and set it back down on the table. "Really?" he asked, "'Congratulations, it's a boy'?"

Danny's cheeks turned a bit red as his gaze shifted to the folder. "Well, yeah. You're stuck with me now until I can get you into good habits and a healthier schedule."

"That implies that you're planning on leaving."

Danny shrugged, all his confidence now fading away. Is this what he's really like? "Well, I mean, I'm sure you don't want me sticking around at all, let alone for a while."

Dick frowned and looked back at the black folder and the binder sitting on his coffee table. God, his apartment's a mess! He smiled at Danny. "My name's Richard, but everyone calls me 'Dick'. You can stay in the guest room."

Danny lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. "Really?"

"Yep. You went to all this work, it'd be a shame if it all went to waste."

The grin on Danny's face was more than worth the security risk that he now posed. "You won't regret it, Mr. Dick!"

Dick smiled back at him, "Please, drop the formalities. We're cousins, apparently."

Was he attached? No. He wouldn't allow himself to get attached. Sure, maybe he was letting this kid - he really needs to start calling him Danny - stay with him for a while, but he wasn't going to get attached. Getting attached meant losing him. Dick wasn't sure he'd be able to survive if he lost someone again.

...damn it.

***

First order of business, now that Danny was officially Dick's - why would he willingly go by that nickname? - ward/cousin, Danny was going to make sure he got some sleep. Today was Dick's day off, so Danny had sent him to his room to take a much needed nap. The man was basically dead on his feet and Danny would be damned if he let him wander around this mess of an apartment with blurry vision.

The second thing he did, once he was sure Dick was asleep, was start to clean up. The place was a stereotypical bachelor's pad, complete with questionable stains in the carpet, rips in the cushions, dishes piled up in the sink, and old take-out on every table and counter. Gross.

He made quick work of the old take-out by throwing it all away and hitting it with a very small and controlled ectoblast. He was so glad Dick had disposable gloves on hand.

The dishes were the next thing he handed. The water was cleaner than in Gotham, so he didn't worry about washing the dishes by hand when they all didn't fit in the dishwasher. He dried the ones he'd hand washed before putting them away. Dick had no organisation in his cupboards, so Danny fixed that, too.

The fridge and freezer weren't too bad. Sure, the dairy products had all expired and most of the food was freezer bitten, but none of it was moldy yet and the appliance itself was in perfect working order. He'd have to go shopping later.

Danny had never liked cleaning, but he'd had to when his parents refused to follow any OSHA laws or Lab Safety courses. So, when he found the cleaning supplies, he took a deep breath and began scrubbing the bathroom. It wasn't too bad, thank god, and was already fairly clean. It was quick and he was able to move on very quickly.

The counters, tables, walls, and tile and wooden floors were all easy to clean with a wet rag and a broom. He wasn't going to even try saving the rug because it looked well beyond the point of no return. The couch and chair cushions could be sticked up, but he didn't have a sewing needle and thread with him.

The last thing he did before taking his backpack into the room he'd been given was to write down a shopping list and leave it on the counter. It wasn't a lot, just food and some dishes and toiletries. He'd have to figure out with Dick a way to pay rent, too, but that was a later Danny problem. He'd tired himself out and was still running on pretty much empty. So, he allowed himself to fall asleep. He'd check on Dick when he woke up.

Part 4 Part 6

Tag List:

@flame-343 @ghestie93 @anarinette @aglmry @peachtreewriter @evix-syne666 @loudlypanickinginvenezolano @lumosfeather18581

[yourmomsawh0r3]

storm chasers

pairing: tyler owen’s x f! reader

warnings: NSFW, 18+

theme: enemies to lovers

During a particularly intense storm chase, Y/N's equipment malfunctions, putting her in a dangerous position. Despite their rivalry, Tyler spots her struggling and makes a splitsecond decision to help. He navigates his stormchasing vehicle through treacherous conditions to reach her.

"What are you doing here, Owens?" Y/N shouts over the howling wind, a mix of surprise and relief in her voice. "I thought you'd be halfway to Kansas by now, chasing your precious tornado!"

Tyler's jaw clenches as he helps her into his vehicle. "Even I'm not heartless enough to leave a colleague in danger," he retorts, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "Besides, someone needs to show you how real storm chasing is done."

As they speed away from the approaching tornado, the tension between them crackles like the lightning illuminating the sky. Y/N finds herself studying Tyler's determined profile, seeing him in a new light for the first time.

Y/N crosses her arms, her eyes narrowing as she watches Tyler navigate through the storm. "I didn't ask for your help, Owens," she says, her voice sharp but with a hint of vulnerability. "I had it under control."

Tyler scoffs, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. "Right, because standing in the path of an EF3 tornado is the epitome of 'under control.' Face it, princess, you needed me."

Y/N's cheeks flush with a mix of anger and embarrassment. "Don't call me princess," she snaps. "And I don't need anyone, especially not some adrenaline junkie with a God complex."

Despite the tension, Tyler can't help but admire Y/N's spirit. Her fiery attitude matches the storm raging outside, and he finds it oddly captivating.

"You know," Tyler says, a smirk playing on his lips, "for someone who claims to hate me, you sure spend a lot of time thinking about me."

Y/N rolls her eyes dramatically. "Don't flatter yourself, Owens. The only thing I think about is how to prove I'm better than you at storm chasing."

As they continue their banter, the storm intensifies around them. Tyler's expert driving keeps them safe, but the close calls have them both on edge. In a particularly heartstopping moment, Y/N instinctively grabs Tyler's arm, her fingers digging into his skin.

Their eyes meet for a brief second, electricity crackling between them that has nothing to do with the lightning outside. Y/N quickly pulls her hand away, clearing her throat awkwardly.

"I... um, thanks," she mumbles, looking anywhere but at Tyler. "For coming to get me, I mean. Even if I didn't need it."

Tyler's expression softens slightly. "Anytime, Y/N. We storm chasers have to stick together, right?"

As the tension in the vehicle shifts from hostility to something more complex, Y/N finds herself reevaluating her feelings towards her rival.

Y/N shifts uncomfortably in her seat, her eyes darting between Tyler and the raging storm outside. The silence between them grows heavy, filled with unspoken tension. Finally, she breaks it with a sigh.

"Look, Owens," she begins, her voice softer than before, "I... I may have misjudged you. A little."

Tyler's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Is that your way of saying thank you?"

Y/N rolls her eyes, but there's no real heat behind it. "Don't push it. I'm trying to be nice here."

"Well, it's a start," Tyler chuckles, his eyes briefly meeting hers before returning to the road. "You're not so bad yourself, when you're not trying to outdo me at every turn."

Y/N feels a blush creeping up her neck. "I don't try to outdo you," she mutters, then adds with a smirk, "I just naturally excel."

Tyler laughs, a genuine sound that makes Y/N's heart skip a beat. "There's the sass I know and lo— uh, tolerate."

The almostslip hangs in the air between them, neither willing to acknowledge it. Y/N clears her throat, desperately searching for a change of subject.

"So, uh, where exactly are we headed?" she asks, peering out at the stormravaged landscape.

Tyler's grip on the steering wheel tightens slightly. "There's a motel about 20 miles ahead. We'll hole up there until this storm passes."

Y/N nods, trying to ignore the flutter in her stomach at the thought of being alone with Tyler in a motel room. She tells herself it's just the adrenaline from their close call with the tornado.

As they continue driving, the silence becomes more comfortable. Y/N finds herself sneaking glances at Tyler, seeing him in a new light. The determined set of his jaw, the confident way he handles the vehicle through the treacherous conditions, it's all suddenly very... attractive.

As the tension in the vehicle eases slightly, Y/N decides to make herself more comfortable. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she slowly lifts her feet, clad in wellworn cowboy boots, and props them up on Tyler's pristine dashboard.

Tyler's eyes widen in disbelief. "Hey! What do you think you're doing?" he exclaims, his voice a mix of annoyance and surprise.

Y/N smirks, wiggling her bootclad feet. "Getting comfortable. Got a problem with that, Owens?"

Tyler's jaw clenches as he tries to focus on the road. "Knock it off, Y/N. This isn't your beatup truck. I just had this vehicle detailed last week."

"Aww, is the big bad storm chaser afraid of a little mud?" Y/N teases, but there's a hint of fondness in her voice that wasn't there before.

Tyler reaches over with one hand, trying to swat her feet off the dashboard while keeping his eyes on the treacherous road. "I'm serious, Y/N. Feet. Off. Now."

Their playful struggle continues for a moment, the air between them charged with a new kind of energy. Y/N finds herself enjoying this lighter side of their usual banter, and Tyler can't help but appreciate her playful defiance.

As the storm chaser vehicle comes to a complete stop, Y/N's eyes light up with excitement. Without warning, she flings open the door and leaps out, camera in hand.

"Y/N! What the hell are you doing?" Tyler shouts, his voice barely audible over the roaring wind.

But Y/N is already sprinting towards the storm, her hair whipping wildly around her face. She raises her camera, desperate to capture the perfect shot of the swirling vortex.

Tyler curses under his breath and jumps out after her. "Are you insane? Get back here!" he yells, but Y/N ignores him, lost in her pursuit of the perfect storm footage.

In a burst of speed, Tyler reaches her. Without hesitation, he throws her over his shoulder, eliciting a surprised yelp from Y/N.

"Put me down, Owens!" she protests, but Tyler's grip is firm as he carries her to a nearby sturdy post.

Setting her down, he quickly ties a safety rope around both of them, securing them to the post. Y/N struggles against him, but Tyler's face is a mask of anger and concern.

"What part of 'dangerous storm' don't you understand?" he growls, his face inches from hers. "You could have gotten yourself killed!"

Y/N glares at Tyler, her chest heaving with adrenaline and frustration. "I had it under control! This is the shot of a lifetime, Owens. You of all people should understand that!"

Tyler's grip on her arms tightens, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and something else – fear? "No shot is worth your life, Y/N," he says, his voice low and intense. "Do you have any idea what it would do to m— to the storm chasing community if something happened to you?"

The wind howls around them, tugging at their clothes and hair. Y/N's anger begins to fade as she realizes the genuine concern in Tyler's voice. She looks up at him, really seeing him for the first time. His jaw is clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek, and his eyes... they're filled with an emotion she's never seen before.

"I... I'm sorry," Y/N says softly, her voice nearly lost in the storm. "I didn't think—"

"No, you didn't," Tyler cuts her off, but his tone has softened slightly. "You never do when it comes to chasing the perfect storm. It's what makes you brilliant, and also incredibly frustrating."

Y/N can't help but smile at that. "Sounds like someone I know," she teases, nudging him gently.

Tyler's lips quirk up in a reluctant smile. "Yeah, well, maybe we're more alike than we thought."

As they stand there, tied to the post with the storm raging around them, something shifts between Y/N and Tyler. The rivalry that has defined their relationship for so long seems to melt away, replaced by a new understanding – and perhaps something more.

As the storm continues to rage around them, Tyler's eyes soften, his gaze lingering on Y/N's face. The wind whips her hair wildly, and he finds himself reaching out to tuck a stray strand behind her ear. The touch sends a jolt of electricity through both of them.

"Y/N," he says, his voice barely audible over the howling wind, "I... I can't lose you. Not to a storm, not to anything."

Y/N's breath catches in her throat, her eyes widening at the intensity in Tyler's voice. She opens her mouth to respond, but before she can, a deafening crack of thunder startles them both.

Tyler instinctively pulls Y/N closer, his arms wrapping protectively around her. In that moment, pressed against his chest, Y/N realizes that the rivalry between them has been masking something far more powerful.

The ride home is tense, filled with an awkward silence as Y/N and Tyler sit in their soaking wet clothes. The only sounds are the squelch of their damp attire and the occasional rumble of distant thunder. When they finally arrive at Y/N's house, Tyler pulls up to the curb and cuts the engine.

"Goodnight," he says curtly, not meeting her eyes.

Y/N stares at him incredulously. "That's it? Goodnight? Tyler, what was all that about back there?"

Tyler's jaw clenches as he grips the steering wheel tightly. "I don't want to talk about it," he mutters, his voice low and strained.

Frustrated and confused, Y/N gets out of the car, slamming the door behind her. She starts walking towards her house, her wet boots squelching with each step. Tyler watches her go, conflict evident on his face.

Suddenly, as if pulled by an invisible force, Tyler jumps out of the car and rushes after her. He catches up just as she reaches her front door.

"Y/N, wait!" he calls out.

She turns, surprise etched on her features. Before she can say anything, Tyler closes the distance between them. His hands cup her face, fingers tangling in her damp hair, and he crashes his lips against hers in a passionate kiss.

Y/N freezes for a moment, shocked by Tyler's sudden action. Then, as if a dam has broken, she melts into the kiss, her hands gripping his soaked shirt. The rain continues to fall around them, but neither seems to notice.

When they finally break apart, both breathless, Tyler rests his forehead against Y/N's. His eyes, usually filled with competitive fire, now shine with vulnerability and warmth.

"That's what it was about," he whispers, his voice husky. "I've been fighting this for so long, Y/N. Fighting us. But I can't anymore. Not after today."

Y/N's heart races, her mind reeling from the intensity of the moment. She opens her mouth to respond, but before she can, a loud crack of thunder makes them both jump.

The sudden thunder reminds them of their rainsoaked state. Y/N shivers slightly, her wet clothes clinging to her skin. Tyler notices and gently cups her face, his thumb tracing her cheekbone.

"We should get inside," he murmurs, his eyes never leaving hers. "You're freezing."

Y/N nods, fumbling with her keys as she unlocks the door. As they step inside, the tension between them crackles like the lightning outside. Y/N turns to face Tyler, her heart pounding.

"Tyler, I..." she starts, but words fail her. Instead, she reaches out, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the slight stubble there.

Tyler catches her hand, pressing a soft kiss to her palm. "I know," he says softly. "We've wasted so much time, haven't we?"

Their eyes lock, years of rivalry and unspoken attraction culminating in this moment. Without another word, Y/N pulls Tyler close, their lips meeting in another passionate kiss. As the storm rages outside, they lose themselves in each other, finally giving in to the feelings they've denied for so long.

Tyler's hands roam Y/N's body, his fingers tracing the curves hidden beneath her damp clothes. Y/N gasps as he presses her against the wall, his lips trailing hot kisses down her neck.

"God, Y/N," Tyler groans, his voice husky with desire. "Do you have any idea how long I've wanted this?"

Y/N's response is cut off by a moan as Tyler's hand slips under her shirt, his calloused fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake. She tugs at his wet tshirt, desperate to feel his skin against hers.

"Off," she demands breathlessly. "Take it off, Tyler."

Tyler obliges, pulling back just long enough to yank his shirt over his head. Y/N's eyes rake over his toned chest, her hands exploring the muscles she's admired from afar for so long.

Their lips crash together again, the kiss deep and hungry. Y/N's legs wrap around Tyler's waist as he lifts her, carrying her towards the bedroom. They stumble slightly, laughing against each other's lips, the tension of years finally breaking.

As they fall onto the bed, clothes are shed hastily, hands exploring newly exposed skin. The storm outside fades into background noise, drowned out by their gasps and moans.

Tyler hovers over Y/N, his eyes dark with desire. "Are you sure about this?" he asks, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

Y/N pulls him closer, her nails raking down his back. "I've never been more sure of anything," she breathes.

Tyler's eyes light up with a mischievous glint. He reaches for his bag, pulling out an old Polaroid camera. "You know," he says, his voice low and seductive, "I've always wanted to capture you in a different kind of storm."

Y/N raises an eyebrow, a mix of curiosity and excitement dancing in her eyes. "Oh? And what kind of storm would that be, Owens?"

Tyler's gaze travels appreciatively over Y/N's body. "The kind that involves you, some lacy lingerie, and this camera. What do you say, storm chaser? Up for a different kind of thrill?"

The tension in the room shifts, electric with anticipation. Y/N bites her lip, considering the offer. The idea of Tyler capturing her most intimate moments sends a shiver down her spine.

Y/N's lips curve into a seductive smile as she sits up, the sheets falling away to reveal her bare shoulders. "Well, well, Owens. I didn't take you for the artistic type," she purrs, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "But if you think you can handle it, I'm game."

Tyler's breath catches as Y/N saunters towards her dresser, her hips swaying enticingly. She rummages through a drawer, pulling out a delicate, lacy black lingerie set. "How's this for your little photoshoot?" she asks, dangling the garments from her finger.

"Perfect," Tyler manages, his voice husky with anticipation. He watches, mesmerized, as Y/N slips into the lingerie, the sheer fabric clinging to her curves.

Y/N strikes a pose, one hand on her hip, the other running through her tousled hair. "Ready when you are, storm chaser," she teases.

Tyler raises the camera, his hands slightly shaky with excitement. "Show me what you've got, Y/N," he says, a grin spreading across his face.

The room fills with the soft whirring and clicking of the Polaroid camera as Tyler captures Y/N's alluring poses. Each flash illuminates her curves, accentuated by the delicate lace lingerie. Y/N's confidence grows with each shot, her poses becoming bolder and more seductive.

"Damn, Y/N," Tyler breathes, lowering the camera for a moment. His eyes roam appreciatively over her body. "You're even more stunning than I imagined."

Y/N smirks, sauntering towards him. "Oh? So you've imagined this before, have you?" she teases, her fingers trailing down his chest.

Tyler swallows hard, his voice husky as he admits, "More times than I care to count."

As the Polaroids develop, Tyler carefully selects the most captivating one. With a mischievous grin, he slips it into his wallet. "Something to remember this night by," he murmurs, pulling Y/N close for a passionate kiss.

Y/N breaks the kiss, her eyes sparkling with a mix of desire and playfulness. She gently pushes Tyler onto the bed, straddling him as she reaches for the Polaroid camera. "My turn," she purrs, her fingers tracing the lines of his muscular chest.

Tyler's breath hitches, his hands settling on Y/N's hips. "What did you have in mind?" he asks, voice rough with anticipation.

Y/N grins mischievously, raising the camera. "Let's just say I want my own little memento of the great Tyler Owens," she teases, snapping a photo of his flushed face and tousled hair.

The air between them crackles with tension as Y/N continues to capture intimate moments, the roles now reversed. Tyler finds himself both nervous and thrilled under her intense gaze.

As Y/N lowers the camera, her eyes lock with Tyler's. The playful atmosphere shifts, charged with an electric intensity. She sets the camera aside, her hands splaying across Tyler's chest.

"You know," she murmurs, leaning in close, "I never thought I'd say this, but you're not half bad, Owens."

Tyler's lips quirk into a smirk, his hands sliding up Y/N's thighs. "Just not half bad? I'm hurt, princess."

Y/N's eyes narrow at the nickname, but there's no real heat behind it. "Don't push your luck," she warns, but her voice is breathy, betraying her arousal.

Tyler suddenly flips them over, pinning Y/N to the bed. His eyes darken with desire as he takes in the sight of her beneath him, still clad in the lacy lingerie.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" he growls, his lips ghosting along her jaw.

Y/N arches into him, her fingers tangling in his hair. "The feeling's mutual," she gasps, pulling him down for a searing kiss.

Tyler's lips trail down Y/N's neck, leaving a path of fiery kisses. His hands roam her body, fingertips tracing the delicate lace of her lingerie. Y/N arches into his touch, her breath coming in short gasps.

"Tyler," she moans, her nails raking down his back. The sound of his name on her lips sends a shiver through him.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with desire as they meet hers. "God, Y/N," he breathes, "you're incredible."

Y/N smirks, her confidence growing. She hooks a leg around his waist, pulling him closer. "Show me just how incredible you think I am," she challenges, her voice husky with want.

Tyler grins, accepting her challenge with enthusiasm. His hands slide under the lacy fabric, eager to explore every inch of her.

Y/N's breath hitches as Tyler's skilled hands explore her body, his touch igniting sparks of pleasure wherever he caresses. She arches into him, craving more contact.

"Tyler," she gasps, her voice breathy with desire. "Don't tease me."

A wicked grin spreads across Tyler's face as he looks up at her, his eyes dark with lust. "But teasing is half the fun, princess," he murmurs, his fingers tracing tantalizingly slow patterns on her skin.

Y/N's eyes narrow at the nickname, a mix of arousal and annoyance flashing in her gaze. "I told you not to call me that," she growls, suddenly flipping their positions so she's straddling him.

Tyler's eyes widen in surprise, then darken with appreciation as he takes in the sight of Y/N above him, her hair tousled and cheeks flushed. "Feisty," he comments, his hands coming to rest on her hips. "I like it."

Y/N leans down, her lips barely brushing against his as she whispers, "You haven't seen anything yet, Owens."

With a mischievous glint in her eye, Y/N begins to rock her hips slowly against Tyler's, eliciting a low groan from him. Her fingers trace the contours of his chest, nails lightly scraping against his skin.

"You think you can handle me, Owens?" she purrs, her voice husky with desire.

Tyler's hands grip her waist tighter, his eyes locked on hers. "Bring it on, storm chaser," he challenges, a smirk playing on his lips.

Y/N leans down, her lips ghosting along his jaw. "Remember," she whispers, her breath hot against his ear, "I always get what I want."

As the tension between them builds, the storm outside seems to fade away, leaving only the electricity crackling between their bodies.

Y/N's movements become more passionate as she rides Tyler, her body undulating in a sensual rhythm. Her lips find his neck, trailing hot, openmouthed kisses along his skin. Tyler groans, his hands gripping her hips tighter as the sensation sends shivers down his spine.

"God, Y/N," he gasps, tilting his head to give her better access.

Y/N smirks against his skin, her tongue darting out to taste him. She peppers kisses all over his neck and jawline, occasionally nipping gently. The combination of her movements and her lips on his skin drives Tyler wild.

His arousal intensifies, and he suddenly flips them over, pinning Y/N beneath him. His eyes are dark with desire as he looks down at her.

"You're driving me crazy," he growls, before capturing her lips in a passionate kiss.

The air around them is thick with the scent of desire a heady mix of Y/N's light floral perfume and Tyler's musky cologne with notes of amber. As Tyler's lips trail down Y/N's neck, he breathes in her intoxicating scent, a mix of rain from their earlier adventure and something uniquely her.

Y/N arches into Tyler, her skin tingling wherever he touches. His hands roam her body, exploring every curve and dip. When his lips finally meet hers again, the taste is intoxicating a hint of sweetness mixed with the saltiness of sweat.

"You taste amazing," Tyler murmurs against her lips, his voice husky with desire.

Y/N responds by deepening the kiss, her tongue dancing with his as she savors his taste a mix of mint and something distinctly masculine. Her hands explore his broad shoulders and muscular back, feeling the strength beneath his skin.

As their passion builds, every touch, every taste, every scent becomes more intense. The room fills with the sounds of their pleasure, punctuated by the occasional rumble of distant thunder.

Tyler's hands glide down Y/N's sides, tracing the curve of her waist and hips. His touch leaves a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Y/N's breath catches as his fingers dance along the lace edge of her lingerie.

"Tyler," she gasps, her voice thick with desire. Her nails dig into his shoulders, urging him closer.

He responds by pressing his hips against hers, the friction eliciting a moan from both of them. The scent of their arousal mingles in the air, heightening their senses.

Y/N's lips find Tyler's neck again, leaving a trail of hot, openmouthed kisses. She breathes in his scent a intoxicating mix of amber, cologne, and the earthy smell of rain still clinging to his skin.

"God, Y/N," Tyler growls, his voice low and husky. "You're driving me wild."

Y/N's fingers tangle in Tyler's hair, pulling him closer as she arches into him. The lace of her lingerie creates a tantalizing friction against their heated skin. Tyler's hand slides down to her thigh, hitching her leg up around his waist.

"Tyler," Y/N moans, her voice breathy with desire. "I need you. Now."

Tyler's eyes lock with hers, dark with passion. "Are you sure?" he asks, his voice husky and strained with restraint.

Y/N responds by pulling him into a searing kiss, her body pressing urgently against his. The last vestiges of their rivalry melt away, replaced by an allconsuming need for each other.

As they finally join, the storm outside seems to crescendo, mirroring the intensity of their passion. The room fills with the sounds of their pleasure, punctuated by whispered endearments and gasps of ecstasy.

Their bodies move together in a passionate rhythm, the intensity building with each passing moment. Y/N's nails rake down Tyler's back as she loses herself in the sensation. Tyler buries his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in her intoxicating scent.

"God, Y/N," he groans, his voice muffled against her skin. "You feel amazing."

Y/N can only respond with a breathy moan, her mind clouded with pleasure. The storm outside seems to fade away, leaving only the sound of their ragged breathing and the creaking of the bed.

As they approach their peak, Tyler lifts his head to look into Y/N's eyes. The connection between them is electric, filled with a mixture of lust and something deeper, something neither of them is ready to name yet.

"Tyler," Y/N gasps, her body trembling on the edge of release. "I'm so close..."

Tyler's movements become more urgent, driven by Y/N's breathless plea. He captures her lips in a searing kiss, swallowing her moans as he pushes her closer to the edge. Y/N's body arches beneath him, her legs tightening around his waist.

"Let go, Y/N," Tyler whispers against her ear, his voice rough with desire. "I've got you."

With a cry of ecstasy, Y/N tumbles over the edge, her body shuddering with waves of pleasure. The intensity of her release triggers Tyler's own, and he groans deeply as he follows her into bliss.

As they come down from their high, Tyler collapses beside Y/N, pulling her close. Their bodies are slick with sweat, hearts racing in tandem. For a moment, they lie in silence, basking in the afterglow.

Y/N turns her head to look at Tyler, a mix of satisfaction and wonder in her eyes. "That was..." she trails off, unable to find the right words.

Tyler grins, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder. "Yeah," he agrees, "it was."

The room falls into a comfortable silence, broken only by their gradually steadying breaths. Y/N's fingers trace lazy patterns on Tyler's chest, her mind still hazy from their passionate encounter. Tyler's arm tightens around her waist, pulling her closer.

"You know," Y/N murmurs, her voice still slightly breathless, "I never thought I'd end up here with you, of all people."

Tyler chuckles softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Life's full of surprises, isn't it?" he replies, his fingers playing with a strand of her hair. "Especially in our line of work."

Y/N props herself up on an elbow, looking down at Tyler with a mixture of curiosity and lingering desire. "Speaking of work," she says, a mischievous glint in her eye, "what do you say we make the most of this storm?"

Tyler's eyebrow quirks up, a slow grin spreading across his face. "What did you have in mind, storm chaser?"

Tyler's expression softens as he gazes at Y/N, his hand gently cupping her cheek. "You know," he begins, his voice low and tender, "I've got a confession to make."

Y/N tilts her head, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "Oh? What's that, Owens?"

Tyler takes a deep breath, his thumb brushing softly over her cheekbone. "I've been in love with you since we were kids," he admits, his voice filled with emotion. "I love the way you furrow your eyebrows and pace when you're confused. I love how you bite your lip when you're anxious. Even those days when your hair is all crazy especially those days."

Y/N's eyes widen, her lips parting in surprise. Tyler continues, his words tumbling out faster now. "I know we're on different teams, but baby, I notice everything about you. I fucking love you, Y/N. I always have."

The room falls silent as Y/N processes his words, her heart racing. After what feels like an eternity, a smile breaks across her face, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Tyler," she whispers, "I love you too. I think I always have."

Tyler pulls her close, capturing her lips in a kiss that's both tender and passionate. As they break apart, both breathless and grinning, the storm outside begins to calm, mirroring the peace that's settled between them. Their rivalry has transformed into something beautiful, something neither of them expected but both now cherish.

[blackbirdsblackberries]

I HATE THE NEW HERO

Pt 4: No luck today

Engineering is probably one of your good subjects - mainly due to the grades you get and the equipment you get to create for your second life.

That being said, your luck isn't very high right now because just as you enter the classroom you're called up to the office. Over the loud speaker. In front of everyone.

This is your last straw. You're going to actually break down and cry.

Taking a deep breath you head to the office and stand in front of the receptionist.

"Uh, hi.. I was called up?" You state to the distracted receptionist. "Huh? Okay. Go into the principal's room I guess." She waves you off dismissively and you hold back a retort.

You make your way to the room and knock on the door. It opens with the principal on the other side. "Ah, There you are. I was worried you wouldn't show! Please, have a seat." He opens the door wide enough for you to get in.

You enter and your eyes fall onto a boy with spiky black hair and tanned skin. His back is to you. Next to him is a taller, more bulkier man in a pressed suit.

Your stomach lurches, feeling ill all of a sudden. Your senses go off and you fight the urge to run away. You can't tell who these people are but something isn't right.

Slowly you make your way to a third chair that was placed at the desk. You glance at the two males and have to swallow the bile - it was none other than Damian al Ghul-Wayne and Bruce Wayne. Your eyes immediately snap forward and you clench your fists slightly.

There's no doubt Tim had said something horrid about you to them, maybe he snitched on the fights you two had, whatever it was now you're in deep shit.

You try to get a read on them but it was near impossible, they were both stoic. It didn't help that you refuse to look at the two. The principal sits down at his desk and crosses his arms.

"So, I have been made aware of some things that you have done recently, (Reader). According to numerous anonymous reports you have cyber bullied someone, picked fights, had plans to build dangerous weapons and had hit animals... Listen, you're a good kid but with what I have here I might have to expel you."

Fuck. You can't get expelled your parents would throw you out or something! You can't! You didn't hit animals! The most you hit was a fly! Dangerous weapons? There's nothing like that at all, besides the plans for you superhero weapons. Those aren't dangerous though. You cyber bullied your vigilante persona to make it more realistic! You never pick fights - you don't want to risk hurting someone with your increased strength!

Though, something makes you freeze. If you were called here for that then why are the two Wayne's here?

You think the principal is a telepath because he speaks up.

"You're very lucky Bruce Wayne and his son are kind enough to vouch for you though they said they wanted a favor in return." Oh. Manipulation. You scrunch your eyebrows, they probably reported me alongside Tim. They're doing this so they can hold it above my head and make me complacent or subservient to them.

Maybe it'd be best if Aranea faked their death. Started a new identity or something... You probably wouldn't go through with it but it's a nice thought.

Well, you don't have much of a choice. You can still silently make your hate known towards the vigilante and it's not worth losing a scholarship over. Especially with parents like yours.

"... Fine... Thank you for this offer, Mr Wayne and Mr al Ghul-Wayne" you mutter. God it's shameful, you want to crawl into your skin and die. Was it worth putting your dignity on the line? You're not too sure. What you're sure of though is that you will get to eat tonight. If your family has the money...

Bruce nods his head in affirmation and puts on his Brucie smile, one that even you struggle to see past. "Of course, what kind of person would I be if I would overhear something so tragic and not do anything about it. We can go over the favor later." He states. You hold back a grimace though you're sure everyone can see the effort.

You don't know what to respond with, humiliated enough by this clear manipulation. You just give him a double thumbs up. Damian stares at you weirdly and the principal raises a brow. Bruce however chuckles, though it's forced.

The principal ushers you out of his office and tells you to wait out the front with the receptionist for Bruce and Damian while they chat some more with the principal himself.

After waiting for a bit the door opens and the two males walk down the hallway to where you are. Damian scowls and glares at you while Bruce looks to you blankly, detached.

You stand and awkwardly rub your hands on your uniform. Something they clearly don't miss as their eyes snap to the motion.

"uh, thank you for this opportunity... What's the favor?" You managed to work up the courage to speak without stuttering like a madman. Something you believed you should get a pat on the back for because the two guys were terrifying.

"The favor is simple really," Bruce starts his Brucie personality back in play "Stop speaking badly of Aranea and don't pick fights with my ward, Tim. Easy right?" You nod. You expected this. Honestly you should be a detective or something you think to yourself.

Nah, that's Batman's job.

You pick up your bag and head to the door, Bruce however had moved while you had seemingly zoned out while in thought and was standing in front of the door while talking to the receptionist and in your haste to leave you bumped into his side.

He automatically puts his arm on your shoulder to steady you and your mind connects the dots.

Bruce has the same build as Batman. Batman seemingly adores Aranea, or at least you think so, he's hard to read - like Bruce (for both being hard to read and adoring Aranea to a weird point). Same amount of kids. Plus Batman had to be rich if he could have a plane and a new looking suit after gruesome nights.

God, how did you not see this before...

Amidst your freaky reality check you fail to notice Bruce trying to get your attention until he snaps in your face - like how your dad does. You hate that.

Your head shoots up and you take a couple steps back while muttering an apology while Bruce stands there with a raised brow, confused while Damian looks at you with disdain as if you soiled a good outfit.

Feeling humiliated and terrified you quickly move around the two men and out of the door. You're in deep shit now... Even something as simple as secretly knowing the identities of the vigilantes that watch over Gotham is a death wish.

This is going to be the worst day of school, so, you decide to leave. You go to the sick bay and get a slip to leave school and you do.

You run home as fast as possible and get to your room. Your mother is out cold in her room with some man she met from the bar so you shouldn't have to worry about her.

You take a couple deep breaths and contemplate on what to do now that you left school, you could catch up on assignments, you could take a nap, or you could go on patrol...

It's daytime and you're pretty sure Signal will be patrolling today, you like Signal, he's a chill guy. Now though, now you don't really want to be near any of the vigilantes.

You decide to check your phone to see what area Signal is patrolling, it comes up in the GC, Westside Gotham at the Midtown area.

Okay. You can do East Park Side then. It's not your favorite area but at least you won't be confronted with one of the vigilantes so soon. Plus, the park is nice.

You suit up and head out. East Park side wasn't far away from you due to the lack of money your family has you are stuck in downtown.

You spend a majority of your time on patrol, helping people and just hanging around. Soon, much to your surprise, you get a call from Batman.

"Aranea. What are you doing patrolling without your comm on and without informing us?" He sounds as serious as ever, usually you'd roll your eyes but right now you're struck with fear. His voice holds maliciousness and anger deep under it. The very same way that Bruce Wayne had spoken to you. You don't want to admit it but knowing the identities of these heroes makes it more suffocating to be around them.

It also meant you had to be much more careful around them.

"Uh... I was bored at home so I went out on patrol?" You respond, trying to keep the energy in your voice, even if it felt like you were going to explode.

"That doesn't answer my question." He responds, you're sure he's picked up on the fakeness of your cheerfulness. "Right! Ha! Forgot about that. I didn't wanna disturb you all! Plussssss, Signal is patrolling so it's all good!" You laugh it off.

Batman isn't laughing. When does he ever?

"That's no reason to not inform us or at the very least turn on your comm. What if something happened to you? What if you died? You aren't invincible. You'll die in that stupid suit if you don't work with us!" You wince slightly. Fuck him. Does he really think you need him and the others to survive? Not to mention him calling your suit stupid, sure it's not perfect but stupid is just overkill. He only even thinks it's stupid because it isn't made with his money!

You honestly couldn't find the effort to continue talking to him, so with your faux cheerfulness you decide to end the call. "I get it. I'll know better next time! Bye bye!"

Sometimes you wish you were old enough to drink.

[himasgod]

Kinich x Reader

(0.6k words. I hadn't dared to write about Kinich, but after reading his story and playing with him, I felt like it! Remember that I appreciate every comment, like or repost, they make my day! Also, I accept requests! Enjoy <3)

Where he realizes that you are more valuable to him than the Mora

The air in the mountains of Natlan was harsh and wild, like Kinich. The silence between the two of you, after weeks of roaming those inhospitable places, had become almost comfortable. You both knew the other was there without the need for words, but that day something was different. The tension was felt in every step, in the way his hands tightened the straps of his equipment.

"Why do you always accept the most dangerous missions?" You dared to ask as you followed his determined walk. Kinich, with his gaze fixed on the horizon, did not answer you right away. You usually received direct, raw answers, but this time it seemed that he was meditating on the words.

"Because it is what will bring me more Moras." His answer finally came, as simple as you had imagined.

You stopped, feeling a lump in your chest. Of course, he always talked about Moras, about the tangible rewards he longed for. It was his way of seeing the world, of understanding value. But you knew there was more behind those words. The Kinich you knew, though sometimes cold and calculating, had shown himself to have a much deeper spirit, one that perhaps he himself did not fully understand.

“Is that all that matters? The Mora?” You tried to keep your voice calm, but you couldn’t stop a hint of frustration from creeping in.

He stopped as well, his green eyes meeting yours. A spark of something indecipherable crossed his gaze before his expression returned to that familiar hardness. “What else should matter? We are not born heroes, and no one gives anything in return for nothing.”

You moved closer to him, each step driven by a mix of need and curiosity. He had been by your side in battles, had saved you more times than you could count, but you had never been able to fully decipher what drove him beyond that desire for material rewards. You were so close that you could see the tension in his jaw, the slight flicker in his eyes as he lowered them, perhaps avoiding your scrutiny.

“And me?” you asked quietly, your heart pounding. You weren’t just an adventure partner to him, and you both knew it. But sometimes, Kinich kept you at a distance, as if the price of letting someone get close was too high, even for him.

Kinich raised his head, surprised. For a few seconds, his usual composure seemed to waver, but he quickly regained it. He took a step toward you, his presence as strong and overwhelming as ever, and held your gaze intently. “You’re not a transaction,” he murmured. “You’re…” He swallowed, as if the words were a heavy weight to bear. “You’re important.”

The confession hit you hard, harder than you’d expected. In his own world of Moras, bounties, and contracts, you had found a special place. You weren't just another job, you weren't a goal to be fulfilled. You had gone from being a simple spectator in his life to becoming someone who could break through his defenses, even if it was just for a moment.

"Does that mean you're staying by my side for more than Moras?" You gave him a half-smile, one that Kinich only reserved for you in special moments.

He didn't respond immediately, but instead of words, he let his actions speak for him. With a calculated and agile movement, like the hunter he was, he enveloped you in an unexpected, but firm hug. It wasn't soft or delicate, but it was real. Like everything Kinich did.

"I'm staying because you're someone worth fighting for," he whispered, his voice rough but sincere.

You felt the warmth of his body next to yours, the weight of everything unsaid between the two of you. In the silence of the mountains, you knew that the future of both of you was far from easy, full of challenges and dangers. But at that moment, it didn't matter.

You were with Kinich, and for him, that was more valuable than any reward.

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3

[ateliersss]

Blooming Family Part 2 - He Is Here

Pairing: Yautja x Fem!Reader Summary: After Akail freed himself and then you from your captors, you both had only one thing on your mind — to return home where his father and your mate was waiting for you. Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: English isn't my first language Word Count: 4.768 Part 1: here Masterlist

⇨ I started making it, tried my best, had a break down, then I listened to Lana Del Rey and my brain started working again. This is the result. I hope I didn't fail your expectations and you like it anyway.

⇨ Also, did you ever actually listen to their clicking/purring noises? Because I DID!

⇨ Want to join the tag list?

Fresh air, the rustling of leaves on the surrounding trees, the moonlight, even the hooting of an owl — you never thought you would appreciate these things the way you did right now.

Especially now as your son was holding you tightly in his arms, running away, leaving the facility site behind. You had already put quite a distance between here and there and yet you could still hear the blaring alarm of their security system.

To distract yourself, you focused on the safe embrace of Akail's strong arms, watched the surroundings passing by, and listened to the sounds he made. He tried to calm you down, but since you couldn't understand any of his words, this attempt failed.

The one thing you didn’t want to focus on was the blood.

The alarm went off while you were still stuck in this awful white room with that strange woman, announcing that your son had broken free. Immediately you were yanked out of the room and into the corridor, not caring that moving was difficult for you. The woman had tried to persuade the two men to be more careful, but they just ignored her and didn't stop dragging you roughly with them.

The grip they had on you was painful, the flickering lights and the alarm agitated you even more, and the fact that you didn't know what they were going to do to you, now that an angry alien was on the loose, frightened you.

You thought about the consequences of what you were about to do. Since you couldn't imagine anything worse than what you had already experienced, you just did it. You screamed. You screamed for your son in hopes he would hear you.

One of the men holding you pulled your thrashing body towards him to have a better hold on you, to silence you. You didn't stop fighting and even bit his fingers to stop him from restraining your voice.

You both stopped struggling with each other when suddenly a bloodcurdling roar erupted from behind you.

The small group turned around and encountered the looming figure of Akail. He had found you, like the clever boy he was.

Admittedly, it had been quite a sight. His body trembled with fury, his back arched and his mandibles flared. The armor and equipment that had been taken from him were now back in his possession and on his body. Even from this distance, you could see the blood as if he had bathed in it.

Blood, that was now also on the hideous white suit you were wearing.

Out of fear, and maybe it really just had been a reflex, the man holding you pushed you away.

Luckily — more or less, depending if you were either the big, enraged alien or the tiny, terrified human — you landed on your knees and the hand outstretched trying to catch you, the other hand wrapped around your swollen belly as an instinctive protective mechanism. The impact hurt, but at least your pup remained unharmed.

It had been the wrong thing to do, really. Watching someone hurt you and thus possibly his unborn brother drove him feral. All it took was one tearful look from you and he charged for your captors.

You scrambled to the wall and out of his attack zone. Closing your eyes, you only listened as one by one died in one painful way or another.

You were used to the most obscure, disgusting, and repulsive corpses as you and your mate occasionally went on hunting trips at home. However, the whole situation — from you being captured, the imprisonment, you not knowing what had happened to your son and how he was doing, to the present moment — had pushed you to your limit.

When the helpless pleas and painful screams finally died down, you felt two big hands picking you up. You buried your face into his strong chest, preventing you from catching even a second's glimpse of the bloody masses around you.

It was over, you tried to compose yourself.

Akail was still running, not faltering once. His mind was set on one thing and one thing only — getting you to the safety of your Scout Ship.

Soon you reached a familiar river and a clearing. Your tensed shoulders relaxed when you saw the huge outline of it. The human may have said that they had found the ship, but it was still there where you had left it. Apparently, they had made no move yet to transport it to their base.

You sighed happily. It meant one step closer to home.

Although you were now in safe surroundings, Akail did not put you down and carried you until you reached the belly of the ship where he kept his weapons and gear such as his masks and armor. You smiled up at him when he seated you on top of the huge workbench occupying the middle of the room where he normally repaired or worked on his equipment. The glass surface cooled your adrenaline-heated skin.

Akail exited the room while you settled into a more comfortable position, legs dangling slightly as you looked down at your baby bump and stroked it. You closed your eyes and listened to your inner voice. There was no pain, no other feeling close to discomfort that should worry you. In fact, you felt your sweetling kick against your hand.

You heard the well-known clicks of Akail, announcing you weren’t alone anymore. He was back, holding familiar gadgets in his hands. One of them were two earpieces that translated every spoken word of a Yautja in real-time. They were created especially for you and practically disappeared when you wore them, making your ears appear perfectly normal as if they weren't even there. The other gadget was a tight-fitting necklace made out of black metal with silver accents that translated your words into the Yautja language.

Their technology did wonders. The way both things worked was way beyond your comprehension.

The moment the earpieces were in your ears and the necklace was around your neck, Akail asked, “Mother, how you feeling?”

Thanks to the workbench, you were more or less at eye level so you could put a hand on his cheek, your thumb stroking the scale-like skin, as he nuzzled into it. “I’m fine, my little warrior.” You reassured him.

You felt his clawed hand gently press against your stomach.

You chuckled. “Yes, your little mei’hswei is fine, too.” As if to confirm your words, your pup started to kick against his brother's hand. “See?”

Akail shook his head, the clicking sounds growing urgent.

You sighed. “I promise, as soon as we arrive home I will go to Cahrein. He will survey me to confirm that everything is fine.”

That seemed to soothe him as he nodded. “Good.”

You smiled up at him and cupped his cheeks to pull him closer so you could reach his forehead to place a gentle kiss there. He immediately started making a purring noise. You had to suppress a laugh at that reaction. Instead, the smile on your lips widened.

No matter how many trophies he owned, demonstrating he was a killing machine, no matter that he was the son of a clan leader, no matter that he was Blooded, showing his level of maturity — he was still your little boy who sometimes longed for the comfortable and safe embrace of his mother’s arms.

At this moment, Akail felt like he was set back into the time when he was just a pup. It actually happened every time his mother showered him with affection.

When he was a Youngling, barely reaching your hip, some of the Un-Blooded — all still immature and not yet careful with their words like teenagers in their puberty on Earth — had harassed him about his non-Yautja part even though he was the pure image of his father, no indicator that he was partly human.

Already in his young years, he had developed a need to protect you. As soon as even one of them mentioned either your name or the word ooman, he landed the first punch which had degenerated into a fight which he mostly lost with his smaller size and his little combat experience compared to theirs. He lied to you about how he got the injuries when you tended to them. He didn’t want to worry you, didn’t want to tell you how those stupid, thoughtless Un-Blooded had disrespected you.

As he grew older and bigger, his father training him hard, the harassment stopped and turned into more friendly, harmless teasing coming from his friends and those with whom he had trained for the initiation hunt. They didn’t dare to treat you any other way than the mate of the Clan Leader deserved to be treated — with respect, obedience, acceptance, and appreciation. You were who you were, but with the things you've done in your years since arriving on Yautja Prime, you'd proven yourself.

From his friends, he had learned that Yautja mothers stopped pampering their pups the second they touched a weapon to train to be hunters.

“Too much coddling and spoiling love made you soft.”

That’s what every Youngling grew up with, but here he was. He was one of the strongest, one of the most determined, and one of the most promising Yautja in his clan, maybe even on his planet. Expectations were high considering who his father was and he would one day be following in his huge (figurative) footsteps, which he hoped to eventually fill.

And all that with a human who never stopped showing him her motherly love since the day he was born.

He was proud you were his mother, thankful, never ashamed. He would never dare to feel any different about you, not when you had stood against all odds to carry him in your belly and fought against death to give birth to him. That made you stronger than any other Yautja mother and he would never think about trading you to be pureblooded.

While his father forged him into a great and powerful fighter, showed him to be strong-willed, hard-working, and brave — the typical journey for Yautja to become hunters and respectable members of a clan — you had taught him mercy, thoughtfulness, and compassion. You tried to teach him at least a few things that were of great value on Earth, things that demonstrated that his mixed genetic heritage made him much more diverse than others.

“I’m going to contact your father to tell him we will be home soon.” You suddenly said.

Akail stepped aside to make room for you to get off the working bench. He offered you a hand when you started to struggle with the height of it and gently helped you to get your feet on the solid metal ground of the ship. While you waddled to your quarters, he turned to the door leading to the cockpit to start the engines and finally get off this damn planet.

The ship was built in such a way that you didn't even feel it take off a few seconds later while you pressed the right buttons to reach your mate. With one hand on your stomach, you turned around and encountered the holographic image of Mi'ytiar being projected into the center of the room by a device built into the ceiling.

You let out a shaky but happy breath. “My love.” You greeted him with a relieved smile as he reached out to place his large hand on the side of your face, the palm on your cheek and his clawed fingers in your hair.

Normally you would lean into his touch, but since that hand was only a projection, you kept your head still to at least give him the illusion that you were standing in front of him.

You wished you were standing in front of him. You longed for him. You missed him so, so much.

You watched his beautiful eyes dart over your face and then to the strange cloth you were wearing, looking for any signs that indicated the blood on it was yours.

“Yawne, what happened?” He demanded, his voice hard but concerned.

You bit your lower lip, already anticipating his reaction.

Mi'ytiar was calm and composed when it came to sticky situations, but his temper quickly overwhelmed him when it came to you. Last time he had challenged an Elder of all people who simply had handled you with more strength than necessary, completely forgetting that humans were far frailer than his kind. It had been merely an accident, but it had turned into a disaster.

So the first thing you wanted to do was to reassure him as you said, “I’m fine.”

His mandibles flared, a hiss escaping his lips. “What happened?”

You sighed. “Humans. They captured Akail.” You wrapped your arms around yourself. “They used the control on his arm to find the ship.” You paused for a moment and sighed. “I left it for some fresh air. They found me outside and brought me to the same facility they took our son to.”

Predicting his answer, you forestalled him before he could even open his mouth. “No! Don’t say it.” You hissed.

Mi'ytiar straightened his slightly bent position towards you in surprise. He looked at you with his head cocked to his side, not breaking the intense eye contact.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally relented and lowered his head. The gesture always made you feel powerful. It meant submission; only with you, never others.

Proud of yourself, you squared your shoulders and held your head high.

Sometimes there were small disagreements between you and your mate, but instead of arguing, you both only looked at each other while a silent battle was fought between your gazes. Mi'ytiar always backed down first, secretly loving your dominance, but also cursing your stubbornness.

You were his Life Mate, the human female he treated as his equal. Completely fascinated and smitten by your softness and loving nature, he was wrapped around your finger and would bend to your will. You had a certain power over him and you loved it, knowing that a being like him was capable of acting this way.

“I know I should have listened to you. You told me to stay within the safety of the ship and I should have listened to you. But I didn’t and I put our pup in danger. I’m sorry, tanhì.” You admitted, looking up at him with wide, apologetic eyes.

“Akail?”

“He freed himself and then me.” You answered, before adding in a whisper, “He killed everyone.”

His mandibles clicking, he said, “Good.” before eyeing the suit sullenly.

Mi'ytiar didn’t mind seeing you bloody. In fact, there had been times when the prey the two of you had been hunting together had bled all over you, which had aroused him to the point where he had just grabbed you and fucked you on the forest floor.

But he didn’t like this, not at all. The color wasn’t right. It was too red, too human. The possibility that it could be yours worried him far too much.

But it wasn’t yours. You had told him so and deep down he knew that, but it made him feel unsettled nonetheless.

In the meantime, you watched him and the hardly noticeable change in his eyes. He was very caring, something you loved the most about him, so you planned on putting him at ease when you reached behind you to open the suit. The light fabric slipped down your body and gathered at your feet. You stepped out of it and kicked it away with your foot.

Now you stood in front of him in all your naked glory. Your plan must have worked, because he didn’t hesitate to step forward and engulf your now much more visible stomach with his clawed hand. His infatuation with your pregnant body was beyond you.

Three months into your first pregnancy, a neighboring clan visited yours for feasts and a hunt. There you got to know a woman named Vulpine, the first human you ever met on Yautja Prime. She was soon to be mated with her Yautja who had only recently decided to commit himself fully to her, thus renouncing any sexual or even romantic relationship with other females. That’s how the concept of being Life Mates worked, after all.

You pestered her with questions. Not only how long she had been here, how she was coping with life on this strange planet and who her Yautja was, but also how he treated her in a pregnant state. Turns out, the only Yautja who was that infatuated with his mate being pregnant was Mi'ytiar.

Another thing was that he had been over the moon when you had finally voiced out your wish to carry his pup. He had taken such great care of you during your pregnancy, coddling you, literally hovering over you, not letting you out of his sight.

You had always wondered why he had been acting this way — maybe it was due to the fact that you were human and therefore you and your body were just different — but you never thought it was necessary to actually question him about it.

After a while you said, “We’ll be home soon, my love.”

“Good.” Mi'ytiar replied, nodding. “I will await you.”

And that’s what he did.

As soon as the ship landed, the ramp extended and the door opened, you saw Mi'ytiar standing there, waiting. You didn’t even hesitate to rush to him. He responded by lowering himself to one knee and reaching out to you, catching you when you threw yourself into his arms.

His mandibles clicked happily when he finally could touch you again and feel his unborn pup. He had missed you both so dearly. To be closer to his little one, he made himself even smaller, almost sitting on the floor, and pressed his forehead on your stomach while one hand rested on your hip and the other on the back of your thigh. Purring, he enjoyed the familiar closeness to his sweetling.

You were a mess, bursting with emotions — those goddamn pregnancy hormones — as you ran your fingers through his dreadlocks, felt their warmth and fleshy texture, and played with one of the golden rings Mi'ytiar used to style it, as you liked to call it.

While the two of you were completely engaged with each other, not caring what happened around you, you hadn't noticed how your son had also eventually left the ship to join the both of you.

“Father.” Akail greeted, announcing his presence.

Mi'ytiar lifted his head before pulling away from you to stand up. As was customary for Yautja, he placed a hand on Akail's shoulder in greeting and shook it slightly. Then he grabbed his son’s upper arms with his hands, Akail did the same, and they both put their foreheads together. They stayed like that for a moment before pulling away to talk.

You didn’t feel like you had to listen to them, so you didn’t, but you watched them with a smile. There stood your favorite people in the universe, your family, your whole world.

Soon, Mi'ytiar turned around and made his way back to you. Before you could say anything, he put one arm under your armpits and one under your knees, lifting you up. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he carried you away, knowing him to Cahrein, the healer.

You liked Cahrein and the feeling was mutual. He was responsible for tending to the wounded and sick, helped the females during their pregnancies and birth, provided ingredients, and maintained tools for the Medicomp when Yautja went on off-world hunts.

He was rather serious and professional, but you could see the curious excitement when Mi'ytiar first had brought you to him. You were a whole different species to him, something new he could learn about.

It was nothing unusual for your mate to accompany you on your check-ups, so Cahrein thankfully didn’t ask any questions, only saying a word when he confirmed what you had already told both, the father and brother of the pup — everything was fine.

That was all Mi'ytiar needed to know before he dragged you away and to your home where he shed you of your clothes and fucked you like a wild animal that was starved of your touch, sating his needs.

It felt like hours had passed when your sweaty and naked body slumped back against Mi'ytiar's torso, exhausted and fully satisfied. Mi'ytiar nuzzled into the hair on the back of your head.

While you were still trying to catch your breath, he regarded the bite mark he had left on your shoulder out of the corner of his eye. The sharp tips of his mandibles had broken into the skin on the front and back of your upper arm, your shoulder blade, and the spot of your chest where your heart was still beating frantically. Meanwhile, his teeth had dug into the edge of your shoulder, making it bleed.

You squirmed in his lap when he licked the dried blood to clean you.

When he was done, he gently took a hold of your hair to put it over your shoulder and out of the way. His eyes fixed on the second bite mark. This one he had placed on the nape of your neck. When he was done cleaning you there too, he chattered happily, proud that he had so evidently marked you as his own.

You tilted your head back to look at him. “What?”

“It never was able with other female.” He said, “Marking.”

You tensed at that before you lowered your head with your lips pressed together. You knew you were acting like a child when he placed his index and middle finger on your cheek to turn your head to look at him, but you stubbornly refused to do so. You even leaned forward to break the skin contact between your back and his torso. You had to bite your bottom lip to stifle a moan as his cock was still inside you, keeping his seed where it belonged. Even in its now soft state, it was still able to send pleasure down your spine.

Although you knew that only some Yautja were permanently bonded to each other and most of them had several mating partners, you had totally forgotten that he, of course, had been with other females before you. In fact, you had never really thought about it. The thought had never occurred to you as he had always been completely devoted to you.

Irrational jealousy took hold of you. Of course, it was completely normal for one’s partner to have been with others before you. That's how it worked on Earth, too. Nothing special, nothing unusual, and yet you hated it.

You had been 26 when Mi'ytiar took you with him. A year earlier you had broken up with a boy you had been dating for two years, and you had a few one-night stands before and after that. You had never cared about their former partners.

Now you did.

“What is it, yawne?”

“Nothing.” You mumbled, your lips twisted into a defiant pout. “It’s just… I never thought about other females having you like this.” You were still facing away from him as you continued, “It makes my blood boil knowing someone else has had you before me.”

A strange possessive feeling surged through you as you turned around to look him straight in the eye. “You are mine, only mine.” You said before turning back around, resulting in you not noticing him almost bursting with pride.

You were lost in your thoughts, completely missing his low, rumbling laugh. He thought you were adorable like this, secretly wallowing in your possessiveness. It made him happy, knowing he was able to elicit such feelings from you.

The next thought you voiced out was one you had back in the days when you still felt unworthy as the Life Mate of the great Mi'ytiar. “It makes me question why you chose me of all people to be bound to you forever and to bear you pups, something I never even thought would be possible. They easily could have given them to you.”

Now that you said it out loud, you realized one thing in horror — pups.

Pups with other females. His pups with other females. His pups with someone that wasn’t you. How did you never think about that too?! He never had mentioned them, not that you knew, but if…

“They could not.” Mi'ytiar interrupted your panicking thoughts.

“What?” You turned your upper body to look at him, his honest eyes looking back.

With his help, you fully turned around in his lap to face him without losing the closest, most intimate connection you both still had; between your legs. He placed his hands on your waist to pull you as close as your stomach would allow.

“I provide for clan in many ways. I am leader. I lead, I protect and I care for them. It is honorable to strengthen clan with pups. Only my seed never took. No female carried my pup. It was shameful to not provide clan with pups. Especially as leader.”

He paused to play with a loose strand of your hair. His fascination with it wasn’t something you couldn’t quite understand, but you didn’t mind.

“When you and I met, you was what I wanted. Objections were made when I dedicated my being to you, but I did not care. I could not provide with pups anyway.” He told you. “I forgot about them. I only wanted you, yawne.”

“I only wanted you, too.” You replied, smiling up at him. “Do you remember when we became Life Mates and you introduced me to a group of females so they could teach me more about the planet, the clan, the dynamics in it, and such? They taught me all the things the mate of a clan leader needed to know.”

One of those had been the mating act. You laughed quietly when you thought back to your reaction as they told you that fighting for submission was something like foreplay to them. First, the male had to succeed before the mating act could start. It certainly explained why Mi'ytiar had been confused the first time you had sex.

The affection and trust you had for him had been finally big enough that you decided to get involved with him in a more intimate way. Until then he had waited for you to give him permission to mate with you. You would never have credited him with such patience, but you hadn’t been the only one who had learned about his kind. While you took your time to get used to your new life, he had also learned about humans.

Not enough apparently because he had looked at you in astonishment like you were broken when you had just let him take off your clothes — clothing that was based on the Yautja style, made of leather, fur and, after a short trip back to Earth, thankfully also soft cotton — and you let him manhandle you.

But you did snap at him when he had been too rough and you had needed more time to get used to this new feeling. After your first time together it was your turn to teach a Yautja about you; about the female body and what it needed before he could ravish you, how he could pleasure it and take care of it.

“One of the females was pregnant at that time.” You continued, “And I wanted that, too. I wanted to carry your pup.”

“And you did, yawne.” Mi'ytiar purred. “Made me so happy when you told me you wanted my pup.” He turned your body to sit sideways on his lap, so he could pull you in with one hand for a cuddle while the other rested on your belly. “You gave what no female could. Proof I am not failure.” He nuzzled into the side of your head. “You are parul, my miracle.”

You opened your mouth to tell him that of course he wasn't a failure, but you closed it again, deciding to let him have his moment. Instead, you put your hand on the back of his head and pulled him closer to you.

You both fell into a comfortable silence, only his purring filled the air.

continue with the third part He Shan't Lose

[urlocaldesertdweller]

His Ego (Stanford x Reader, PART 2)

(PART 1)

(Suggestive/borderline smut)

By request of an anon for a hate sex continuation of the link above! Also, this is a different ending from the first part!!!

(I tried rlly hard to make it something close to hate sex so I hope you can enjoy it either way)

You only can take so much from an egotistical asshole who thinks so highly of themselves. It frustrated you all the more that Stanford seemingly deemed you unworthy of his time from the say he came out of the portal.

You always had your own ways of fighting back, though, from "evidently" disturbing his private studies in the basement to inviting yourself to his outside adventures. You did this for many reasons, one to annoy him and two to discover why he hates you.

So, of course, when Dipper and Mabel told you that he was planning to return to the buried UFO behind town for further investigations. An idea of yours had struck your mind.

Self-invites were already a common thing between Ford and you. He would only tolerate you because the rest of the family would never let go of this odd, one-sided rivalry. He would mainly avoid you at all costs, even his own life, just to keep away from his own research.

But this time, you thought confidently to yourself on the hike. Things were going to be different, and that was a promise.

He handed you an extra magnet gun without making eye contact, so you'll live on the way down. He knew how much the twins and Stanley loved you. He knew that they would never forgive him if he let you die on purpose.

By the time you both finally landed in the large and dark hallways of the ship. You quickly followed behind him since he didn't care to bring a second light source for you. He had his limits, and you were, for some reason, at the top of the list (next to Bill).

A thick tension sticks between you as he stops in the room with the control room, setting his equipment, and starts to get to work. You watch him for a moment sucking a breath and gaining the courage.

As you step up next to him, you open your mouth to speak. But the moment catches up to you, and you make an awful mix of quiet screech and squeal, which makes Ford glare at you and sidestep away, still staring at you. You cover your mouth, close your eyes, cough, and gather your thoughts. You open your eyes as they harden on Ford.

Before he steps away, you grab his wrist. He is clearly confused, as you now have his full attention, and he turns his body towards you instead of the console.

"If you don't mind, can you let go of my wrist? Surely you have your own reasons for being here than to bother me."

Ford snarkily comments on your odd behavior. He looks at your hand, almost disgusted, and attempts to wiggle his lim away. But your surprising strength keeps him there. You finally speak up quickly, hushing Ford before he can comment on you again.

"Ford. You are nearing your 60s."

You grit your teeth as you think about how such an intelligent man like Ford can act bitterly to someone like yourself for some petty reason.

"What's the point of keeping up with this whole... Hate thing for me? Like, I'm actually confused about you! Why spend so much time and effort to hate on one person and have it be me?"

You are trying hard to shout as you break into a rant about all of the times he has treated you differently and how much it has affected you negatively. Your grip on his wrist goes into both of your hands on the lapels of his coat, nearly shaking him.

Ford is growing irritated not only by you putting your hands on him but also by you asking why he hates you so much. He roughly grabs your arms.

"Get a hold of yourself! You will activate something hazardous; it will all be your fault because you can't bear the fact that I strongly dislike you!"

He steps close, pushing a finger into your chest, and makes you step into the console. You chuckle as his response feels more like an excuse than anything. Your face hardens as you laugh, even in between the console and Ford. You push closer to Ford in an attempt to at least win by making him uncomfortable.

"Oh, it's going to be my fault? Of course, to you, everything is my fault when a small inconvenience happens to you!"

You are chest to chest, having to look up at Ford with his height. A finger raises to push to the tip of his nose mockingly.

"Because you think nothing bad ever comes from you, doesn't it? Isn't that right, little Mister Perfect?"

He pulls back as your finger lingers on his nose, his cheeks dust a warm pink.

"You always make assumptions about me. It's insane!"

Perhaps it's something in the aged air, but it only brings you more confidence. You stomp on his foot, and before you let him react, you take fistfuls of his coat, sweeping him to the console. He groans in pain and gasps at the suddenness of everything.

"What is it, Ford? Do you think that you are too good to even give me an answer to my question?"

He coughs as you push yourself against him. A determined look paints your expression, and he stares into your eyes, unsure of what to do. He does the occasional shift and shuffle, but your iron grip keeps him pinned and leaning comfortably on the console.

"It's anything but that! God forbid I can't be unrealistically nice to everyone on this doomed planet!"

He moves enough to leave him heaving. Eventually, it seems that the tension churns between you as you stare into each other eyes with an odd passion. You smirk until you peek at his lips; if force doesn't get the answer out, maybe being unpredictable could.

The silence speaks for itself as you roughly mash your lips into his. He gasps into the rough kiss, and he keeps his eyes open. You know how little experience Ford has in kissing and other spicy stuff, but you are more than willing to let him take on the challenge.

After a long minute or three, you tempt them to pry his soft lips with your warm tongue, and he resists, but with a hand to push his jawline, he becomes putty.

He can't help but gasp and feel his hips naturally move into yours as he steps into new foreign territory, making out. His reactions make you smirk; it encourages you to push him more as a hand rubs tenderly into the fat of his hip through his pants.

He pulls away, desperate for air; you chuckle, watching his turtleneck stretch and shift with his heaving chest. You don't wait for him; a sneaky finger finds its way to drag the turtle's neck down to reveal his delicious neck. You peck his skin from his shivering lips and strong jaw to, finally, his pale neck.

He mutters through his breath, asking you to be careful. You start with soft kisses to rough bites, making him yelp, which you shoot up, covering his mouth; you lean in close to his ear in a ticklish whisper to his ear.

"Who's going to activate something now, hm? Better hang on, Know it All, because I'm just starting."

He hums in slight confusion into your hand as he isn't prepared for your hand going from his hip to his growing bulge. You message it, pressing, twisting, poking it. His cock quickly wets the fabric making a notable stain.

He gasps and bites down on your hand. You keep it there for him; his reaction is worth every tooth mark on your hand.

He wriths under you, spitting out your hand. You expected a more suitable expression, but you were pleasantly surprised when he glared at you; he leaned to you in a raspy growl.

"I hate you... So much."

You giggle with evident delight enjoying him being pissed off. That is until you feel a hand snake around your back and push you into his hips. Catching you off guard and yelp.

Now, he is the one to smirk, and he starts to fall into an addicting rhythm between you and him. You are not happy to be caught, so off guard, your eyes twitch, and you feel your pride falter just a little.

"Don't make an old man like me all riled up and expect me to finish the job all by myself."

You sit up in one more attempt to roughly kiss him, hands, tongue, and all. He isn't surprised this time. He is a quick learner, after all. And a mix of tounges and saliva as Ford fights against you again, even during the long kiss.

He lasts longer, leaving you to pull away. You catch your breath, and listening to his comment makes you click in your brain.

"I thought you hated me. But don't you hate me nearly enough to keep me from being pushed away during intimacy?"

He stays quiet and stares at you unamused; his silence is up to you whether he truly feels about you.

Nevertheless, this is progress between you and Ford. Besides, you had a long "investigation" session with Ford in the UFO.

[halfagone]

I would love to see Pariah Dark utilized more often in DP x DC crossovers. And not as a reason for why Danny gets pulled in summoning circles, or why he becomes Ghost King, but Pariah Dark himself. Can you imagine that?

Picture this: Cultists find a way to release Pariah Dark into the mortal realm, the Justice League get wind of this. And you know what happens? He frickin' crushes them. They have powerful members, yes, and powerful magicians too. But he is the King of an entire Realm for a reason, and it is a burden and a crown not gifted to just anyone.

And yet he's been defeated before. These 'superheroes' don't compare to the boy that fought him once before, another one of these so-called heroes. He cannot decide if he is hellbent on revenge, or intends to make the boy a vassal, a replacement for Fright Knight who clearly failed in his duty to the King. The boy was young, he could be taught, molded- with the right pressure and a guiding hand, of course.

However, Amity Park is heavily protected by shields and other anti-ecto equipment. Assuming he even knows where and how to get to Amity Park in the first place. The portals have been shut down, either purposefully or because they crumbled under the pressure that's required to rip open a tear in reality. So where does that leave Pariah?

He gives the Justice League an ultimatum.

The Justice League brings him a whelp named Danny, who once defeated him in battle, or the planet burns.

Eventually, the JL figure out the last time Pariah was released, and how a small city called Amity Park was caught in the middle of it all. It's never confirmed who defeated him, but if Pariah's words to them hold any truth, someone with the name of "Danny" is the first place to start.

Oddly enough, there's exactly one person in Amity Park that goes by the name of "Danny".

Who just so happens to be a teenager.

So now the JL have to decide to either turnover a literal child, or let the planet be destroyed.

Only, Danny has not been told anything about what is going on, and is just mildly concerned about why all these superheroes are suddenly being so fussy when they never cared about Amity Park before?? And why are they being so nice to him? He's pretty sure he caught the Flash going a little teary eyed the other day, and he overheard Superman trying to convince Batman not to kidnap him, lock him in his basement, and forcibly adopt him??

He never took Batman for a Fruitloop.

The Justice League don't tell him what's going on. And it's for the best, really. Because if they did, he'd go with Pariah in a heartbeat if the world would be saved.

Even if he didn't like the person monster he'd return as.

[communicationthroughlyrics]

There's No Hope In Endless Winter

Natasha has been gone on a long mission, so when she comes home, she just wants to spend time with you. But, you have news for her.

A/N: Yeahhhh, sorry bout this one- I also couldn't seem to come up with a decent summary sooooo...yeah. It's angsty and not really happy at all. Just kinda sad, all the way around.

TW: Panic/Anxiety, Depression, Reader has a medical emergency

Word Count: 4.5k

With a ghost-like silence, Natasha Romanoff floated into the bedroom of her shared New York apartment. It had been three long months since she had been on her no-contact S.H.I.E.L.D. mission, jetting her across the world to track and assassinate a major drug kingpin after infiltrating his cartel for vital information. She could hardly contain her excitement to see your face again, to feel the warmth of your body in her arms. The room was pitch-black, but even in the darkness, she could make out the familiar outline of their bed. You must have fallen asleep hours ago, presumably exhausted from your work as a personal trainer.

Natasha's muscles ached from the long flight and the countless hours of physical exertion during her mission. She stripped off her clothes, revealing her toned, scarred body, and crawled under the sheets. The bed's softness and the sheets' coolness felt like heaven after so many nights spent on hard mattresses, back seats, and cold floors. She snuggled in close to you, breathing in your familiar scent, and let out a contented sigh. Nat buried her face into the crook of your neck, causing you to sigh. Even though she knew that you were fast asleep, she couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and belonging in your shared space. 

Natasha being gone always sent your emotions in a spiral. The anxiety and panic that she felt on any given day only worsened as time went on. Your constant worry for your wife would typically result in you holed up in Natasha's room at the compound, drowning yourself in Natasha's clothes, burrowed into her bed until she returned. It was actions like this that had Wanda and Clint checking in with you regularly when they weren't on their missions.

It was one of these check-ins that finally forced a hand for you. Wanda had stopped by, worried because you, her best friend hadn't been responding to her messages or calls. When Wanda went to your gym, the manager said you had been canceling all your appointments. This was highly unlike you, as you had been known as a reliable, punctual trainer. Wanda's attention was piqued. 

"What do you mean, she's been canceling?" an incredulous tone came from the brunette.

"She hasn't shown up for any of her clients for the last week and a half," the manager said, shrugging helplessly. "I've tried calling her, but she never picks up. She left a note on her desk, and has called all her clients herself, telling them they can schedule with someone else."

"When was her last session?" Wanda probed further. 

"Monday," he stated flatly, as he was walking around wiping down some of the equipment. "She was training with one of her regulars and passed out. We sent her home after she refused to take an ambulance. We asked her to stay home for a couple of days, rest, and relax. Apparently, she needed more than that."

This concerned Wanda, so she decided to check on you. She thought you had been doing better in Natasha's absences. As she approached your room, she could hear the soft snores coming from within. Taking a deep breath, she carefully opened the door, revealing you curled up in a ball on the bed. Your usually neat hair was a messy tangle around your head, and you were wearing one of Natasha's oversized shirts. Seeing her friend like this tugged at Wanda's heartstrings.

"Hey Y/N," she whispered, stepping into the room. "You okay?"

You let out a soft groan but didn't stir. Wanda walked over to the bed and gently nudged you awake. "Hey, wakey, wakey. It's me, Wanda. Honey, what's wrong?"

You mumbled something incoherent before burying your face into the pillow, trying to block out the world. "I can't do this anymore," you finally manage to get out. "I miss her so much." 

Wanda sighed, rubbing your back in a comforting manner.

"I know you miss her, Y/N. We all do. But you can't let it consume you like this. You're not being fair to yourself. Natasha would want you to take care of yourself and be strong." Her voice was soft and gentle. "Look at you. You're not eating right, you're not sleeping, and you're not working out. You're not the Y/N I know."

You sighed, looking out the window to avoid the green orbs that were looking straight back at you. "I know," you curl into yourself further. "But, I need her here Wands. I'm scared and alone."

Wanda frowns, sitting down on the bed next to you. "You're not alone, Y/N. You've got all of us. We're your family. We're here for you." She reaches over and takes your hand, squeezing it. "You know that, right?"

You look over at her, your expression softening slightly. "Yeah, I know." You take a deep breath and wipe your eyes. 

"Now, Y/N. When was the last time you ate more than a protein bar or a banana?" Wanda asked, looking at the fruit peels in the trash and the wrappers on your nightstand. "Your boss told me you fainted at work."

You shrugged, "I'm not sure. A few days ago?"

Wanda rolled her eyes. "Okay, that's it. You're coming with me. We're going out to eat. You can't keep living off of protein bars and bananas. You need real food." She helped you up off the bed and led you to the bathroom to wash your face. 

"Wanda?"

"Yes?"

"I don't feel right."

"You're not feeling right because you're not eating right," Wanda replied, giving you a reassuring pat on the back. "Come on, let's get some food and then we can talk about how you're going to get back on track with your training. You're better than this, Y/N." She stops when she realizes that you're standing firm in the middle of your room. You look pale, eyes sunken in, and like you haven't been sleeping. 

"That's not what I mean, Wanda."

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. "I feel...off. Not just because I'm not eating right. Something...else. It's like..." You trailed off, struggling to find the words.

Wanda placed a hand on your shoulder, her expression concerned. "Y/N, do you think you might be coming down with something? You seem to be feeling under the weather lately."

"Maybe," you mumble, rubbing your arm. "I don't know. It's just...weird."

"Tell me what your symptoms are, Y/N."

You sigh, trying to wrap your head around how you've been feeling of late. "It started when I was in the middle of a training session..." you started.

Wanda's eyes widened, "What? You kept going even when you didn't feel right?" You nodded, and her frown deepened. She led you back to the bed, so you could sit down.

"Do you have a fever?" she asked, feeling your forehead. You shook your head. "What about chills?" She glanced at the air conditioner, which was blowing cool air. "No, I guess not."

"Not a fever, but I've been getting terrible night sweats."

Wanda raised an eyebrow, "Night sweats? That's not good."

You shrugged, feeling uncomfortable under her gaze. "I'm just not myself, Wanda. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"What else have you been feeling?" she asked further, rubbing your knee comfortingly.

"My muscles ache all the time. And I'm just...tired." You yawned, rubbing your eyes. "Even when I sleep, I don't feel rested."

Wanda frowned. "This doesn't sound good. You should probably go see a doctor." She paused, looking at you with concern. 

"I'm scared, Wanda."

Wanda took your hand and squeezed it. "Hun, it's just a doctor's visit. It'll be ok." You shook your head, just wanting this conversation to be over. "You probably just caught a bug or something."

The next day, the two of you made your way to the doctor's office, where Wanda sat with you through the entire vitals process. The nurse turned to you after gathering some information and asked you if you wanted Wanda there during the following line of questioning.

"No, that's fine," you mumbled, feeling a little embarrassed. 

"So, what brings you in today? Your notes on the check-in sheet are pretty vague."

You took a deep breath, not sure where to begin. "Well, I've been feeling really tired lately. Like I can't sleep, even when I want to. And my muscles ache all the time. It's been going on for a few weeks now, and it's starting to get to me." the nurse jotted some things down, before allowing you to continue. 

"I have been feeling sluggish and sore for 2-3 weeks, I just thought it was me pushing my workouts too far at first."

The nurse nodded sympathetically and continued her questions. "Have you noticed any changes in your appetite or weight?" You hesitated for a moment, not wanting to admit to Wanda that you hadn't been eating right. "Well, I haven't been eating as much as I should have, but I don't think I've lost or gained any weight." The nurse made some more notes. "Well, Y/N, it does look like you have lost some weight since your last visit 4 months ago. Have you been experiencing any night sweats or fevers?"

You shook your head. "Just the sweats, but not as bad as they used to be." You glanced over at Wanda, who was looking at you with concern. "I've been feeling...off, you know? Just not myself."

"Is there anything else?"

"Yes," you stutter. Wanda's eyes shot up at this admission. "I was helping one of my clients use the pulldown machine, demonstrating what I wanted them to do." the nurse continued to take notes, indicating for you to go on. Wanda shifted in her seat as you continued. "I felt a grab in my underarm like I was using the machine wrong," you sighed. "The pain continued throughout the day, and wouldn't go away. I didn't think anything of it till I got home."

"And when you got home, what happened?" the nurse prompted.

"Well, I felt sore all over, but especially my chest, for some reason," you started, Wanda covering her mouth as you recounted what happened. "So, while I took a bath to try and loosen up, I checked both armpits to see if there was something I was missing. I kinda probed and kneaded at my underarms, and felt a large bump, here." you lifted your arm, indicating where you felt the lump.

"And what did the lump feel like?" the nurse asked, scribbling more notes.

"It wasn't hard or anything, but it was...different," you said, struggling to find the words. "It just didn't feel like the rest of my skin." You glanced at Wanda, who was looking at you with a mixture of shock and concern. "At first, I thought it was just a knot or something, but it's been there for days now, and it's not going away."

The nurse nodded, making some more notes. "I see. Well, I'm going to have the doctor look at this when we're done with your vitals. Just give me a call if there's anything else you think might be important."

As the nurse left the room, Wanda grabbed your hand and squeezed it tightly. "Oh, hun, I'm so sorry. I had no idea this was going on. Why didn't you call me?"

"I didn't want to worry you," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "I thought it was just a knot or something. I didn't realize..." Your voice trailed off as you fought back tears.

The examination room door opened, and the doctor came in. "Y/N, hello," he said, offering his hand. "I understand you've been experiencing some discomfort. Why don't you tell me about it, and we'll see what we can do."

You related the story again, feeling embarrassed but relieved to have someone who seemed to take you seriously. The doctor listened carefully, nodding along, and then asked to feel the lump in your armpit. "Hmm...I'm going to need to get some tests done to determine what's going on here. In the meantime, I want you to rest as much as possible, and avoid any strenuous activity until we know more. Okay?"

"Okay," you replied, feeling a mix of relief and fear. 

The doctor gave you a reassuring smile. "We'll get to the bottom of this, don't worry. We're running your blood and plasma panels, and took a sample from the lump in your underarm." He stood, reaching out his cold hand for you to shake. "We'll run these preliminary tests, and call you with the results."

You nodded, still feeling a little uneasy. As you stood, the weight of the situation began to settle heavily in your chest. You glanced over at Wanda, who was rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms, clearly upset. "Are you okay?" you asked her.

"Honey, I should be asking you that," she offered you a weak smile, helping you out of the doctor's chair.

As you made your way out of the clinic, Wanda wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close. "I'm going to be right here with you, okay? No matter what it is." You nodded, grateful for her support. 

"Wanda?"

"Yeah, sweetie?"

"Is there really no way we can get a hold of Natasha?"

Wanda sighed, resting her head against yours. "I've been calling her all morning, but she hasn't answered. I even sent her a few texts, but when she goes no contact, that means no contact."

You nodded, understanding the unspoken rule. Even though you knew it was for her safety, it still hurt that you couldn't talk to her. You felt so alone like you were the only one going through this.

"I'm terrified, Wanda. I've never felt like this before."

Wanda hugged you tighter, her warmth offering some comfort. "I know, hon. I'm scared too. But we're going to get you through this. We'll find out what's wrong, and we'll fix it. You hear me?"

You nodded, forcing a small smile. "Yeah, I hear you. Thanks, Wanda."

**

The sun was starting to peek through the blinds when Natasha finally stirred. She pulled you in tighter, realizing you felt considerably thinner than she remembered. You were seemingly dead to the world, breathy snores coming from you as you tossed and turned. Natasha decided she would surprise you, so she quickly rose, kissing your forehead before running to the shower to clean up.

She knew she'd have to tread carefully when she emerged, but the anticipation of seeing your face light up was too much. As she dried her hair, she slipped on her tank top and shorts before padding over to the bed. You were still fast asleep, so she decided to head down to the kitchen, starting breakfast so you both could enjoy each other's company over a warm meal.

Coffee brewed, she laid out a spread of fruit, toast, and eggs. The scent of food wafting up the stairs drew you out of your slumber, unfortunately making your stomach churn. You wondered why Wanda was making you some food so early in the morning.

You padded into the kitchen, still half-asleep, and were greeted by the sight of Natasha, your Natasha, wearing nothing but a tank top and shorts, her hair still slightly damp from her shower. She smiled at you, a warmth spreading through your chest. "Good morning," she purred, leaning over to kiss your cheek. "I missed you, babe."

You returned her smile, albeit with an empty one. "Missed you too," you mumbled, reaching for the coffee pot. "Smells great." Natasha frowned at the lack of emotion from you, immediately becoming concerned.

She poured you a cup of coffee and set it in front of you, then sat down at the breakfast bar, watching you carefully. "Are you feeling okay, sweetheart? You don't look so well." You shrugged, not wanting to talk about it. "I'm just a little tired, that's all."

Natasha frowned, not quite convinced. "You're sure you don't want to tell me what's wrong? Maybe I can help." You looked up at her, feeling instantly guilty once you saw her expression.

"I'm sure it's nothing, really," You started. "I just...I had some tests done while you were gone."Her face softened as she reached across the counter to take your hand.

"What kind of tests, sweetheart?"

"I don't want to spring this on you right now, Nat. You just got home."

Natasha squeezed your hand gently. "You know you can tell me anything, babe. I'm here for you, through thick and thin." Her eyes pleaded with you to confide in her, and despite your best efforts to keep her out of the loop, you found yourself wanting to tell her everything.

"Okay," you finally said, taking a deep breath. "It's not something I want to talk about right now, but I will. Just...not today, okay?"

Natasha nodded, understanding that you needed time. "Okay, hun. Take your time. We can talk about it whenever you're ready. In the meantime, why don't we enjoy breakfast together? It's the least I can do while you're going through this."

"That's okay, Nat. I'm not very hungry. But you can have whatever."

She smiled, giving your hand a squeeze. "Are you sure? I made plenty."

You nodded, forcing a smile. "It looks great, though. Thanks, Nat." You worked your way slowly to the confines of your bedroom, stopping to look at your washed-out appearance. You were pale, your cheeks somewhat hallowed. The dark rings and bags under your eyes made you look like a member of the Addams family.

Natasha followed behind you, still in her tank top and shorts, concern etched into her features. "Do you want me to help you get ready for bed? Maybe take a nap with you?" she offered, her voice soft and gentle. You shook your head. "No, I just want to be alone for a bit. I'll be okay." She frowned, but nodded, knowing that these long missions were always rough for the both of you, and you often needed your own space. As you lay in bed, awaiting the call from your doctor, Natasha called Wanda.

"Hey Wands, it's me."

“Nat! Oh, my goodness it’s good to hear your voice, darling!” she started. “I bet Y/N is so glad to have you home.”

“Actually, Wanda, that’s why I’m calling.”

There was a slight pause on the other end of the line before Wanda replied, "Oh? Is everything alright?"

"Well, I wanted to check with you," Natasha began, taking a deep breath. "Y/N and I have been together for a long time, you know that. And we've been through our share of ups and downs. But something is going on right now that I feel she's not telling me, and I'm really worried about her."

There was a moment of silence on the line before Wanda spoke. "What makes you think that?" she asked, her voice gentle.

"I just know her," Natasha replied, her voice tight with worry. "She's not herself. She's distant, and I can tell she's not eating. It's like she's carrying a weight on her shoulders that I can't even begin to understand. I just want to help her, you know?"

Wanda was quiet for a moment, considering her words. "I understand where you're coming from, Natasha."

"I feel like there's a 'but' coming, Max."

"Because there is, Romanoff."

Natasha winced at the use of her last name. She knew Wanda could be annoying that way, but it still hurt sometimes. "I know Y/N doesn't want me to know or worry right now, but I need to help her. I'm her partner, her support. I can't just stand by and watch her suffer in silence."

There was a long pause on the line before Wanda finally spoke. "I understand that, Natasha. You're a good friend and a good wife. And I know you'll do whatever you can to help her through this." Her voice softened. "But I also want you to understand that this might not be the best time to push her. She's been through a lot, and she needs some time to process everything on her terms."

Natasha sighed, a deep pit forming in her stomach at the thought of what could be going on. "Wanda?" A silence followed before a hum indicated Natasha to continue. "What happened while I was gone?"

"Oh, you know," Wanda replied lightly, her tone belied by the worry in her voice. "The usual. Just the constant threat of nuclear war, a power-hungry megalomaniac with delusions of grandeur, and a team of highly skilled operatives trying to keep the world safe while balancing their personal lives."

"Wanda, that's not what I meant."

"I know, Nat. I'm just trying to make light of a very serious situation. Y/N's been keeping a lot of things bottled up. She needs time to process everything, and I think she's afraid that talking to you will make it all real. She needs you to be supportive, but she also needs her space."

There was another silence on the line before Natasha spoke. "I understand. I'll give her time, but I'm here for her whenever she's ready."

"That's all you can do, Natasha. That means a lot to her, I know it. And if there's anything I can do to help, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Thanks, Max."

Wanda's voice was soft, bidding Nher a good day. Natasha could hear the genuine concern behind it. She knew that Wanda would be there for her and Y/N, even if she wasn't always the most subtle about it. They were both so different, but they had been through so much together. They had become a family of sorts, even though they were all from different worlds.

Natasha took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. She couldn't help but feel a sense of helplessness, like she was floating in the dark, searching for a lifeline. But she knew that she had to be strong for Y/N, even when she felt like she was about to crumble herself. Setting her phone on the counter, she put away all the food before heading towards the living room, sitting on the sofa with a cup of coffee, contemplating what you could possibly need to tell her. After what felt like hours, she went to the bedroom, gently knocking on the door.

"Hun, do you mind if I come in?" Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. There was a pause, and then she heard the click of the door opening. Natasha stood in the doorway, taking in your eyes red and puffy from crying.

"I, uh... I was just about to take a nap. Do you want to join me?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. She walked over to the bed and sat down gently beside you.

"I would love to, sweetheart," she breathed deeply, reaching her arm around your shoulders. "But first, I need to know that you're okay." The statement makes your heart clench, knowing that you are worrying Natasha after such a long and strenuous mission when she should be relaxing and enjoying her time with you.

"I'm... I'm as okay as I can be, I guess," you mumble, your voice still hoarse from earlier sobs. "It's just... a lot, you know? A lot to process." Natasha nods, pulling you closer as she wraps both arms around you.

"Darling, what is a lot to process?" Natasha's voice was soft, almost tentative, and you could feel her heart beating against your back as she held you close. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves before speaking. You were spinning your cell phone in your hands, nervous to tell your wife what happened while she was gone. 

"Let me start at the beginning, Nat." you lay your head on Natasha's shoulder, ready to detail all that led up to your phone call this morning.

As you speak, Natasha holds you close, occasionally kissing the top of your head or running her fingers through your hair to offer comfort. She listens intently, her expression shifting between surprise, confusion, concern, and anger as you recount the events that unfolded while she was gone.

When you finish, there's a long silence as Natasha processes the information. You can feel her heart racing in her chest, and she seems to be struggling to find the right words. Finally, she takes a deep breath and says, "Oh, sweetheart." Her voice is full of empathy and understanding, but there's also a note of worry. "What did the doctors say was the result of your tests?"

Your eyes tear up, as your lip quivers. You get up and go to stand across the room from your wife, afraid to let her see you so vulnerable, so weak. "I have breast cancer, Nat."

Natasha's face falls, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Oh, Y/N," she whispers, taking a step toward you. "My baby, I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you." Tears begin to stream down her face, and she reaches out to hold you, but you flinch, taking another step back. "I'm here for you. No matter what. I love you, and I'm here to help you through this. In sickness and in health, remember?"

You shake your head, feeling overwhelmed. "I just... I don't know how to do this. How am I supposed to fight this? And what about us? What about our future?" Your voice breaks on the last word, and you sink down to the floor, buried in a ball, unable to hold back the sobs that have been building inside you since you first heard the news.

Natasha rushed to your side, quickly scooping up your body and holding you impossibly close. "Honey, our future isn't in question. I'm not going to let anything happen to you," she whispered into your hairline, kissing it.

"But, what happens if you get sent out on a mission again? What happens if you don't come back to me, Natasha? I can't do this without you."

Natasha's arms tightened around you, holding you as close as she possibly could. "Y/N, you are my whole world. I would never abandon you. You are my priority, now more than ever. We will get through this together. No matter what. I promise." She paused, taking a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. "I know it's scary right now, but we'll find the best doctors, we'll get the best treatment. And we'll fight this together. You're stronger than you know, and I'm right here by your side, supporting you every step of the way."

You sniffled, wiping your nose on your sleeve, and leaned into her embrace. "I'm scared, Natasha. I don't want to leave you. I don't want to leave us."

Natasha pressed her lips to your forehead, her breath warm against your skin. "I know it's hard, baby. But you're not going to leave me. You're going to fight this, and we're going to fight it together. We're going to beat it, okay? She held you there for what felt like an eternity, rocking you gently back and forth. "We're going to fight this together, you and me. We're going to be strong, and we're going to get through this. I promise you, Y/N.“

READ PT. 2 HERE

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: Wally might've been preoccupied with Field Day but that hadn't meant he didn't plan on getting answers. Thankfully, the universe was on his side because there you were, right where he wanted you.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

as promised, here's PART SIX, no wait necessary! 🫶😅

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.6

Wally grinned from ear to ear, eager for Maddie to accept the gesture Mr. Martin offered in the length and shape of a golf club. He'd spent a great deal of the morning figuring out how to coax Maddie to join in their shenanigans, proud Field Day enthusiast that he was, and was pleased as punch that she seemed to be getting into it.

He'd been there, filled with pent-up aggression and bitterness, and grief for a life that had been snatched away from him before he'd understood what it meant to live.

Contrary to what Maddie thought of him, Wally hadn't always been an upbeat, ultra-positive member of the afterlife. In fact, he'd wallowed a whole decade away, trudging the tiers of the stadium seats, seeking answers or forgiveness or enlightenment; something that would help put his world back to rights.

It never happened. He'd simply moved on. Matured, maybe. Ajay and Bernie—the autoshop pancake and gym rope-climbing tragedy, respectively—had encouraged him to open himself up to Mr. Martin's brand of therapy, and then, slowly, he'd started to relax into his place in the metaphysical world.

He hoped he could be there for Maddie the way they'd been there for him.

Which is why he hadn't made an excuse to slip away and find you. Oh, he'd tried to catch you at your locker before your first class, waited for twenty minutes after the bell had rung, but you hadn't shown up. So, he'd gone to Group in a funk that had lingered until Mr. Martin had announced his decision to proceed with Field Day.

Yet, as joyful as Wally had been to partake, something inside him had ached. The strong, honeymelt tug of the connection between you extended outward from his chest as if reaching for you through the ether. Demanded he ignore everything in the interest of finding you, took your head in his hands and made you look him in the eye—he longed so badly for you to see him.

The feeling hadn't subsided. Rather, it had burrowed deeper into his brain and challenged his thoughts, the feeling like he had somewhere he needed to be but couldn't recall the address. And it only seemed to worsen the further away he got from the main school building.

The sound of exploding glass forced Wally back to the present. Maddie swung the golf club again, shattering another window, which Wally applauded with exuberance and congratulated Maddie on another impressive attack.

"Told you you're a natural!" Wally encouraged, beaming a supernova smile that Maddie couldn't resist returning.

Charley hummed thoughtfully from his perch on the picnic table behind them and slanted a conspiratorial grin at Wally, "A real natural." He commented, "Totally sane."

"The sanest." Wally agreed and turned back to watch Maddie as she trudged around the corner of the equipment shed, gearing up to unleash her violence on the vending machines.

And then, like lightning on the breeze, Wally sensed it. You. Static down his spine, heartbeat ratcheting up, cinnamon spice on his tongue. Automatically, his gaze shifted from Maddie to a figure in the distance, clad exclusively in black, head down, features obscured by the shadow of a hood.

Wally sucked in a deep breath as subtly as he could, tasting the crispness on the air and dull notes of burnt vanilla. He could hear every step you took, the rustle of fabric as you fished your phone from your back pocket. He felt your desperation as if it was his own, how you needed to find someone right fucking now, where had he gone?

Glass erupted, sprayed the ground at Maddie's feet, crunched under her boots as she moved onto the final vending machine. Wally wasn't going to waste an opportunity when it presented itself perfectly.

"Ooh-hoh! Yes! That was—" He smacked a kiss to his fingertips, "—beautiful!" He turned to Charley, praying he wasn't demonstrating too much gusto that it raised questions. "I'm going to find more shit for us to break. Best Field Day ever!"

He took off, sprinting up the slight hill and onto the path that circled the field. Once he felt he was a safe enough distance away, he twirled on his heel to check that Charley and Maddie weren't watching. Maddie had joined Charley at the table, both now engrossed in a conversation, paying no mind to Wally.

Good.

He didn't need to seek you out, his gaze finding you easily as you marched across the grass toward the front of the school, staring at your phone like it held the secrets of the universe. Maybe it did, Wally had no idea, too intimidated to try using one of those things.

"Hey." He called once he was close enough, trailing you as you made your way into the parking lot. That feeling that had been with him all day intensified as the proximity between you lessened, white-hot and smoldering beneath his flesh.

Although you didn't answer, your back stiffened, almost imperceptible if Wally hadn't been paying such close attention, and your stride shortened marginally.

"I missed you." He confessed, breathing heavy from exertion, "Didn't see you this morning. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to avoid me." He glanced at you cheekily, settling into step beside you.

You ignored him, focus fixed on your phone, though the screen was blank.

"I had things to do, anyway." Wally said, shrugging it off. "You know how it is; a lot to keep a guy busy in the afterlife."

He noticed you'd changed direction, leading you both out of the parking lot and onto the walkway that looped around to the side of the school where the bus stop stood. Part of him buzzed at the thought that you'd done it on purpose. To avoid crossing the invisible barrier that would catapult Wally straight to the 5-yard line.

Wally licked his lips, leaned into your space so his arm pressed against yours as you walked. Pinkies brushed, skin on skin, sparking electricity up his arm that burst in his chest.

He pressed on despite your resilience, "It's Field Day today. Or, Destroy the Field Day, really." He snickered at his own joke, figured he'd do it for you. "It's fun. You should try it sometime. You know, when you stop pretending you can't see me." He spun around to walk backwards, preferred to see your face even if you refused to look at him. "I could show you the ropes like I did for Maddie. I'm sure Mr. M wouldn't—"

Suddenly, you stopped in your tracks, chin lifting, eyes spiking up from your phone as you pulled down your hood in one motion. Wally froze. His pulse hammered a chorus in his ears—boom clap, boom clap—wind knocked from his lungs as slowly, so so slowly, your eyes glided to meet his.

The intensity in them pinned Wally in place. Time receded. The noise of afternoon activity dimmed. You saw. him. This was more than acknowledgment, this was proof. Proof that he took up space in your world as you did in his. He was witnessed, real, a l i v e.

Wally uttered so quietly, terrified to break the spell that bore you both in its palms, a soft and reverent, "Hey..," the weight of it catching in his throat.

As if fighting against yourself, you brought your phone to your ear in small, measured increments, gaze unwavering. Wally was enraptured by the marbling colors in its depths and couldn't help but wonder if your eyes did that whenever you peeked through the veil, or if it was a reaction unique to him.

And then that didn't matter because, for the first time, unmistakably and with intention, you spoke to him.

"What did you just say?"

💀___________________________

PART FIVE - PART SEVEN

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

[fastcardotmp3]

I'm not usually the audience for most kid fic content HOWEVER the idea of Eddie falling into a circumstance where he becomes the Uncle Wayne to some other kid who has nowhere else to go has me by the throat today

like. circular narratives.... hear me out....

maybe Eddie did have a sibling, a sister ten years older than him who was out of the house and as far away as she could manage before he even ended up in Hawkins with Wayne. maybe he and his sister didn't keep in touch because by the time she had her footing in the world well enough to come back and see him, Eddie was long gone already.

maybe she ends up in worse situations than he does by nature of not having a Wayne of her own to teach her what it feels like to have someone stick around for you and maybe one of those situations is ending up with a kid she's not equipped to take care of, no matter how much she tries.

she needs help, needs backup, needs someone to take this 10-year-old in and give her safety while her mother gets healthy and tries to learn what it means to be stable.

And hey, listen, Eddie Munson is 27 at this point, he's had seven years to heal from the bullshit Hawkins put him through and he's still working hard every day to keep that momentum going, but a child?

he's not a father, not an uncle, take her to Wayne for fuck's sake, he begs of his sister even though he knows deep down he doesn't mean it, not when Wayne has finally retired, finally has some stability of his own.

what other option do I have? I need you, Ed, is begged of him in return, and he hears her, he does, but what does he have to offer in this situation?

he's a mechanic with PTSD and a one-bedroom in Bloomington who's been pining for his best friend the former jock-turned-part time student for the past two years.

he's a wreck and a half who has nothing but lateral moves to make in his future and has to set three different alarm clocks to wake himself up in time for work every morning and he's just-- Eddie. That's all he is. That's all he has to offer.

It can't possibly be enough.

What's her name? he asks despite himself, out here on the sidewalk in front of his place of work where he'd been ambushed, where he knows Steve will be pulling into the spot across the street to pick him up any minute.

Naomi, is the answer, and she will be, even if Eddie doesn't see it yet.

There's no part of Eddie Munson which has ever dreamed of trips to the park and helping with homework and drives to the mall to buy presents for birthday parties.

There's no part of him which has ever sought out parenthood to anything other than the stray cat who likes to beg for treats at his back door.

There's no part of him which is built for this, Eddie knows, as he sees the familiar shape of a familiar car parking across the street and idling.

Naomi, he breathes anyway, looks down at the photograph being pressed into his hand, the untamed curls and missing front teeth.

She's sitting on the front steps of a trailer, sun shining down on her and pinking up the bridge of her nose and it's him for a moment. It's him, loved unequivocally by a guy who never planned to have kids, never wanted them, and loved Eddie with everything he had to offer despite it.

It's him, the little boy that still lives in Eddie's chest, just asking not to be forgotten.

You're all she's got right now, Eddie.

Well, shit.

He's gonna need to put a call into Wayne, isn't he?

[theaceace]

I know that canonically (show-wise, at least) St Hilarion's worked to cover up Charles' death, and nothing was ever really done about the disappearance of Edwin and the other boys, but even so, do you think the school has a reputation for being haunted??

I'm imagining Niko following various ghost-hunter groups online, especially when the agency doesn't have many cases going on, and occasionally the boys will mirror hop over to an interesting-sounding location, and they'll even get a real case as a result

So when she tells them that one of the teams is planning to investigate St Hilarion's (either it's been closed for a while or they have special permission to go during the summer holidays), Edwin and Charles steel themselves and decide to go, in case there are other ghosts there that need help ('can't imagine a worse place to be trapped for the rest of my afterlife' says Charles, who has been to literal hell. Edwin, who spent 70 years in literal hell, agrees)

So they go, with Niko and Crystal as moral/emotional support, except when they get there they realise they've fucked up and are there on the same day/night as the ghost hunters. They could come back some other time, but what if there really are ghosts here that are suffering? No one wants to take that chance, so Crystal uses her powers to convince them that she and Niko are there for work experience, or are friends of a friend, or are here to replace one of the tech guys who called in sick

Both Charles and Edwin are tense and uncomfortable returning to the place they died - Edwin had gone there after he escaped Hell because he didn't know where else to go, but they've built themselves a home now with the agency. This isn't like before, when it was the closest place to familiar he could find. Charles, meanwhile, feels colder and colder the longer they're there - his hair is wet, there are bruises flaring and spreading, and a faint rattle in his chest that would have become pneumonia if he'd lived long enough

But they need to be sure there aren't any other lost ghosts stuck here that need their help crossing over, so they keep going

(maybe, as a consequence of a door to hell being opened in the school, there are unusual happenings, maybe there's still a place where the line between earth and hell is very thin, maybe there's some fragment of a demon left behind, and they can do something about it)

Anyway, the most important thing is that Charles, either accidentally or in a fit of pique at the whole situation, knocks something over just as one of the paranormal investigators is asking for spirits to make their presence known. In fact, this happens repeatedly - the boys move things, change things around, their presence is detected somehow with the equipment. Crystal and Niko are doing their best to distract the team and ruin as much of the footage as possible, and at least once the boys do something on purpose, maybe because someone is being a creep to the girls (and yes, they both know that Crystal and Niko are more than capable of taking care of themselves, but this way scares the asshole more and is also funnier), and then also to fuck with their readings

Anyway, it's coming to the end of the night, the problem has been identified, and whaddaya knows, of course it's in the attic where they both died. This is fine, why wouldn't it be fine. They get started, draw some (invisible, ghostly) runes and start working their magic when, of course, the paranormal investigators turn up, because this is thought to be the most 'active' area of the school, and the body of a schoolboy was found here in the 80s

Yeah, they try to contact 'any of the boys who disappeared in 1916' and Charles. It would be fine if they weren't so irritatingly loud, Edwin's trying to concentrate, and Charles is now shivering and dripping wet, but they managed to ignore the team right up until they start speculating that Charles was killed by one of the angry spirits from 1916

At which point, Charles - half visible, clearly enraged, looking very much like the half-drowned and frozen kid he was, like a proper ghost - tells them to fuck off already before they get hurt, they don't understand anything, and how dare they give a shit now when it's too late

Which is, of course, the exact moment Edwin finishes the spell, and causes some sort of a magical rebound that fritzes the cameras for a second, throws furniture around, and knocks them all flying. When the cameras start up again, they catch Edwin kneeling by Charles, holding his hand, and softly telling him that it's ok, it's over, they can go now. Charles sniffs and smiles and knocks their foreheads together and says yeah, let's get out of here, and together they fade from view

The investigators think this means gay love can pierce the veil of death and save the day that now that the truth of their story is known the ghosts have moved on, and it's all thanks to them! How beautiful, how wonderful, how affirming! Perhaps one of the boys from 1916 tried to help Charles, and when that didn't work, they both stayed to try and protect other people from these violent spirits, and now their unfinished business is finished! It's so tragic and touching story

Charles and Edwin, who are putting their tools back in the backpack, roll their eyes and smile at each other

On the way out, Charles swipes the memory cards from the cameras, Edwin inscribes a couple of sneaky runes on various pieces of equipment to fuck with it, and Crystal uses her powers to make sure they all remember a couple of details differently, so later they won't be able to agree on a bunch of stuff

The episode they were trying to make can't be released, their social media posts about the experience are full of details that don't match up, and fans are bitterly disappointed

Crystal and Niko watch the footage Charles stole with Jenny and the Night Nurse back at the agency. Jenny turns it into a drinking game. Charles does a dramatic reading of the posts with added commentary while Edwin pretends he's not laughing. They buy t-shirts of the paranormal investigators and wear them ironically. They leave anonymous comments

Just. The dead boy detectives having to work around ghost hunters, in a world where ghosts definitely, tangibly exist