#beddy bye time soon

[naenaex0xx]

oopsies

[neixins]

rb for larger sample size, share ur thought process in the tags etc etc and so on and so forth!! <3

[darkclouud9]

ooooookay fine, starting work on my 20k projects I suddenly thought of

[justinefrischmanngf]

i'm like why am i so sleepy this can't be right and the answer is: u have been awake since 5am and u were up at 5am to go to a boxing class and u have worked also have just eaten many many noodles

[estrellami-1]

Keep You Company

So this happened because 1) I was babysitting and the little girl wouldn’t sleep until I laid in bed with her and my heart has NEVER been more full and 2) my dad’s an audio engineer with a home studio and my mom will just???? Sit in there with him????? He’s got a couch for when clients come over but 90% of the time if I can’t find either of my parents they’re both in there. I love my mom but I swear she’s tone deaf. Not to mention if any of you have heard someone else work on pitch correction you KNOW how annoying it can get after roughly .3 seconds. But she sits in there completely content because they just???? Want to be near each other????? After close to 30 years of marriage????? Where can I find someone who loves me the way my parents love each other. And the way Steve and Eddie love each other. Please.

Also side note if any of yall read Little Love I’m tempted to make this a future excerpt 👀 different name bc who knows if anything’s gonna come of this. and Joanie’s name comes from Joan Jett anyone who got that gets a gold star ⭐️ also Joanie is either 4 or 6. Idk which. But she’s one of those ages. Which if you know anything about kids you know there’s somehow no difference and yet every difference in the world between those two ages.

“Night, Daddy,” Joanie says, moving into Eddie’s studio to drop a kiss onto his cheek. “Love you.”

Eddie startles away from the computer screen, blinking as he realizes just how late it already is. The clock on his desk blinks 9:08 in red, incriminating flashes.

He smiles at his daughter and throws his arms around her as he stands, hugging her to himself and whirling them around the space, careful around the low coffee table. “Goodnight, my little rockstar!” He crows, peppering kisses to her cheeks and forehead, feeling laughter bubble up inside him in response to Joanie’s giggles.

“Daddy!” She shrieks, but doesn’t try to pull away. He laughs and finally puts her down, pressing one last kiss to the crown of her head as he kneels in front of her.

“Night, Joanie-bug,” he murmurs. “Sorry I’ve been stuck in here all day. I wish I could just play with you all day instead.”

He boops her nose and she giggles. “What are you doing?”

Eddie hums and picks her up, moving closer to the computer to save his project. “Well, y’know how Daddy’s in a band?”

“Yuh-huh.”

“Well sometimes, Uncle Gareth gets a note wrong.”

Joanie giggles. “Only Uncle Gareth?”

“Only Uncle Gareth,” Eddie agrees in a super-serious way that they both know he doesn’t mean.

“And sometimes Daddy forgets how not to be a perfectionist,” Steve adds from the doorway with a smile.

“Also very true,” Eddie nods, putting his computer to sleep. “But I did a lot of work today, so hopefully I should be done soon. How about for now, I do bedtime clean-up routine, and Papa can read you your book?”

“M’kay,” Joanie says happily, because she’s a heathen and prefers Steve’s storytelling skills over Eddie’s. Eddie wants to bite her cheeks, she’s so cute, so he does, takes a big chomp and makes a dinosaur noise that has Joanie shrieking and laughing.

“Okay, munchkin,” he says, swinging her around onto his back and trotting through the house, purposely jostling her. “Beddy-bye time, which means it’s time for teeth brushing!”

“Can you sing the song?”

Eddie fights back a groan. Somehow, he’d forgotten this was coming. “Sure thing, Joanie. Let’s get some toothpaste on that brush, alright?”

They do, and Joanie looks at him expectantly. “Sing it, Daddy! Sing it!”

“Brush your teeth, up and down. Brush your teeth, ‘round and ‘round. Brush your teeth from left to right, brush your teeth in the morning and night.”

He goes through the entire song, helpless to the smile that grows as Joanie bops happily along to his singing. “Okay, baby bug,” he says finally, standing behind her with a brush. “How d’you want your hair tonight?”

Regardless of the rat’s nest it will be in the morning, Joanie refuses to sleep if her hair is at all in her face. Steve and Eddie started with simple braids until she discovered the magic of YouTube tutorials, which makes the bedtime routine both longer and less mundane.

“Two Elsa braids,” she says, resolutely not learning the proper name and instead using the one Eddie had jokingly said once.

“Two Elsa braids, coming up,” he says, because it’s cute and he’s not going to dissuade her.

“Can we do beads?”

“Beads are a daytime hairstyle, ‘member, munchkin?”

Joanie pouts at him in the mirror. “But they’re pretty!”

“They are pretty, but they won’t stay while you sleep. They’ll fall out, and then you’ll wake up in the middle of the night ‘cause you’re laying on beads, and you’ll wake us up, and then we’ll all be cranky.” Not that that exact thing had happened.

She narrows her eyes at him, trying to find a way around it, then finally huffs and agrees. “Okay.”

“You’ll look pretty even without the beads,” Eddie promises her. “And Elsa doesn’t have beads, remember?”

“Yeah, but Daddy, Elsa’s got magic powers!”

“That she does.”

Joanie pretends to shoot Eddie with her Elsa powers, and Eddie freezes in the middle of the first braid. “I can’t move,” he says, not moving his lips. “You froze me!”

Joanie giggles. “Unfreeze, Daddy!”

He dramatically relaxes and sighs. “Oh, good! Thank you!”

He finishes doing her hair and chases her into her room, where she picks out her pajamas: a pink shirt with ballet-dancing kittens, and a neon-green pair of leggings. “Bold choice,” Eddie comments. “You wanna do it yourself? Or do you want me to help you?”

“I wanna do it,” Joanie says, just like Eddie knew she would.

A few minutes later, she huffs, frustrated. “Daddy, help,” she asks, just like Eddie knew she would.

He helps rescue her from her shirt that had somehow become sentient long enough to wrap around her head, then gets her pants on and tucks her into bed before pressing a long, loud kiss to her forehead. “Nighty-night, Joanie-bug,” he murmurs. “Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

Joanie giggles. “Only Joanie-bugs allowed in my bed!” She declares, and Eddie chuckles. “That’s right.”

He moves toward the door where Steve’s waiting to press a kiss to his husband’s forehead. “Sorry I was so busy.”

“You were working,” Steve murmurs. “It’s fine. I’ll come join you when I’m done, m’kay?”

“I’m gonna be in the studio for at least another hour tonight, babe,” Eddie says apologetically.

“Then I guess I’ll come keep you company.” He presses a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips before shoving him out the door. “Go work, I’ll be there in a bit.”

“Sir yes sir,” Eddie salutes, marching back to his studio.

The next time he surfaces, it’s to a tugging at his sleeve. He blinks, glances at the clock—10:37—and turns, ready to apologize to Steve, only to see Joanie.

A quick look reveals no Steve anywhere in the studio, so Eddie thinks he’s probably in bed. “Hey, munchkin,” he murmurs, picking her up and setting her in his lap. “We put you to bed an hour ago, what’s going on? Bad dream?”

Joanie shakes her head before resting it on Eddie’s shoulder. “Papa’s snoring.”

Eddie blinks. Steve does snore, but not loud enough she should be able to hear it from her room. “Oh,” he says quietly. “Did he fall asleep before finishing the story?”

Joanie nods against his shoulder, and he sighs as he cuddles her closer, once again saving his project before completely shutting the computer down for the night. “M’kay, Joanie-bug, let’s go get Papa into his own bed.”

“Daddy?” She asks on the way to her room.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Why’s Papa so tired?”

Eddie sighs. “He’s a teacher, sweet pea. He does a lot all day. And he loves his job, but it is very tiring. Then he comes home and cooks, ‘cause he’s better at it than I am. And there’s a lot of stuff that needs to be done around the house.”

Joanie’s quiet for a second. “And me?” She finally asks.

Eddie’s heart stutters painfully. “No, baby,” he murmurs. “Your Papa and I love you, so much, okay?”

“Okay,” Joanie agrees, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I love you too, Daddy.” After a few seconds of thought, she says, “Are there cooking videos on YouTube? Like for hair?”

Eddie blinks. “To learn how to do it? Yeah, I think so.”

Joanie nods. “You should watch those. And cook for Papa.”

Eddie chuckles. “Maybe I will,” he agrees, stopping short in the doorway to smile at the sight in front of him.

The bedside lamp is on and Steve, glasses askew, is halfway on the bed, on top of the covers. The book is open in his lap, hands still holding on to the sides. He is, as Joanie had said, snoring.

Eddie kisses Joanie’s forehead and puts her into bed beside Steve before taking the book from Steve’s lax hands, shutting it and putting it on her bedside table before kissing Steve’s forehead. “Stevie, baby,” he murmurs. “Wake up.”

Steve’s eyebrows scrunch and his eyes flutter beneath his closed lids before he takes an extra-deep breath and his eyes open. “Eds?” He murmurs. “What’s wrong?”

“You’ve gotta get up,” Eddie murmurs. “This isn’t your bed.”

He watches as Steve processes his words then looks around. He sees the confusion morph into understanding when he sees Joan. “Oh,” Steve murmurs. “Sorry, Joanie.”

“‘S okay, Papa,” Joanie answers. “You should go to bed.”

Steve chuckles tiredly and kisses her forehead. “I am, right now,” he promises. “Night, Joanie.”

“Night, Papa. Night, Daddy!”

“Night, Joanie-bug,” Eddie answers, wrapping his arm around Steve’s waist, half as a hug and half to help his husband stay steady.

“Sorry, Eds,” Steve murmurs. “Meant to join you.”

“It’s alright,” Eddie promises. “How about tomorrow I take Joanie out early for breakfast and let you sleep in?”

Steve frowns. “But you have work.”

“I’ve done the majority of it already,” Eddie answers. “You could take her out tomorrow afternoon if you want. Or just have a movie marathon here. I’ll finish up what I have to do. Tomorrow’s Saturday, right? So I’ll finish tomorrow, then Sunday I can make waffles for all of us. How’s that sound?”

Steve hums. “Good, ‘sides the you cooking part of it.”

“Oh, you little shit,” Eddie says delightedly, pressing a kiss to Steve’s temple. “Just you wait, you’ll understand the power of YouTube tutorials.”

Steve chuckles, quiet, tired, but no less full of love. “I can’t wait.”

Permanent Taglist (which I’ve been COMPLETELY terrible at I’m so sorry I promise I’ll try to do better): @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @muricel @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

[weirdoldstans]

Okay but with the nursery, what if Ford walks into what he thinks is his super secret private room only to find Stan all diapered in his pjs with a paci curled up in his crib. And maybe it’s right after they fought and in the light of the night light Ford can tell that Stan’s face is all puffy because he cried himself to sleep. And he’s still mad, but he kinda feels bad about it. And when Stan stirs awake he’s embarrassed and ashamed but Ford just quietly asks “you too, huh?” And he just sorta sighs and goes over to the closet and finds himself a new, and oh my god, so much thicker, diaper and gets himself on the changing table to get himself padded up and Stan kinda awkwardly asks if he needs help and well….if he’s offering. So Ford’s face is turning pink and he’s trying not to think to hard about Stan powdering and taping him up and Stan’s nice enough to not point out that’s he’s enjoying himself way to much because it’s way to soon and there’s still so much tension. But Stan does help him down and helps him pick out a pair of jammies for himself that he helps him into. They end up curled up together in the crib for beddie bye.

(And maybe they both sorta end up humping against each other. There’s not exactly a lot of room with the two of them in there. It was just because of the tight space. It wasn’t anything. It doesn’t matter that they both came. Really. Just ask Ford.)

CUTE CUTE CUUUTE

ford wants to be mad at stan for using his room (it's his first night on earth in 30 years and he NEEDS some baby time!) but he just CAN'T, he knows how stan feels right now, he knows stan needs the same thing as him

what if while stan is helping ford get changed, ford keeps opening his mouth to say something, but he's just so tired, he has no idea what to say, and after a couple tries, stan just offers him a pacifier instead

WEHHH I LOV THESE TWO SO MUCH...

[final-girl96]

My Boyfriend's Back Chapter Thrity-Six

Stu

Holy fucking shit! I have a daughter. I'm a fucking dad! I slowly knelt down to her level. "Hello. What's your name?" I asked in a soft voice. I looked up at yn, who looked fucking terrified. She pushed the little girl behind her and I stood up. "Mama." Bent over and picked her up and her little legs wrapped around her waist, arms going to wrap tightly around her neck. Then yn stepped back.

"You have a lot of explaining to do, sweetheart," I said. "Just leave, Stu." She held onto the little girl and backed up again. "Don't even think about it." I said in a stern voice and she froze. "You know, I was here to keep my promise. Can't say I'm happy that the plan didn't work out again. Also didn't expect to find you with a little girl who oddly has the same eyes as mine." I took a step towards her daring her to run from me. She was smart though and stayed still.

"Put her to bed, and then we are going to have a little chat." Those big blue eyes looked back at me, and I smiled at her. "Hi, sweetheart. You know who I am?" I asked gently. She looked up at yn and back at me. "Have you told her about me?" I asked. Yn wouldn't even look me in the eye. "She's two. She doesn't understand," she whispered. "Is that a yes?" This was going to fuck all my plans up.

"I think it's beddy bye time, hmm?" Yn coos at her–our daughter. She laid her head down on yn shoulder and nodded. Yn kissed her head and slowly backed away from me. She watched me with wary eyes. "Jesus, babe, I'm not going to fucking hurt you. Go put our daughter to sleep." I said putting emphasis on the word our. I smiled softly at my little girl; fuck I can't believe I have a fucking kid. I smiled softly when she turned her head to look at me. "Night night, sweetheart."

Yn turned and walked to the second door on the left. Shortly after she had walked in I started to hear her singing softly. I walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. No fucking beer? Seriously? "There's some in the garage." I turned my head and laughed. "Oh, yeah? You have a doggy door and a killer waiting for me out there too?"

Bad joke? Too soon? Fuck you, I don't give a shit.

"What the fuck do you want, Stu? How did you find me?" I closed the fridge, turned towards her, and placed my hand on the counter to lean closer to her. "I told you geek boy led me straight here. Saw him at the video store and just knew he would be the one to follow. You were living at home for a little while after Windsor but then disappeared."

"You have someone watching me? Or were you stupid enough to stay in Woodsboro for two fucking years?" I shrugged instead of answering her. "That's enough of that. We're going to talk about that beautiful little girl now. Were you even going to try and find a way to let me know I was a father?" I asked, standing straight. "What's her name?" I whisper.

"Reeselyn. But we just call her Reese. I found out I was pregnant a few weeks after we left Windsor. She was born two months early on October 20, 1998. She was in the NICU for almost a month before I was finally allowed to bring her home. The whole pregnancy was a fucking mess. I was retaining a lot of fluid and my blood pressure was always high. They had me hospitalized trying to keep me from going into labor but it got to the point that…it was either give birth then and there or lose her. So they rushed me in for an emergency C-section."

I felt fucking sick. I walked around the counter and stood in front of her. I had to be quick to grab her before she could distance herself. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, baby. But I'm here now. I can take care of the both of you." She pushed against my chest, trying to push me away from her. "Get off of me!" I held her tighter, walking her backwards until her back was to the wall. "Stop it! You will not keep me from my daughter. Do you understand me?"

"It's not like you can actually be here for her. You're a fucking psychopath, Stu. You're a murderer and hiding from the cops. As far as I'm concerned, she doesn't have a father." Before I knew what I was doing my hand wrapped around her throat, putting just enough pressure to tell her to keep her mouth shut. "Let me make myself clear, hmm? You are going to let me see her and get to know her. You're going to let me be her father. And you're going to stop acting like you fucking hate me and aren't still in love with me."

"Fuck you!" I pressed myself against her, leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Is that what you want? You want me to fuck that attitude out of you. You miss the feeling of me inside of you?" I brought my hand down to the button of her jeans, popping it open, and slipping my hand into her panties. "Would you look at that already wet for me." Her fingers wrapped around my arm, pushing my hand further.

"You just can't resist me, baby. Also so needy for me to touch you." I pressed my finger against her clit, rubbing tight, slow circling. "You're so fucking needy." I pushed two fingers inside of her, my dick getting harder, straining against my pants. "Fuck. I've missed touching you."

Her hand gripped my shirt, pulling me down, and smashing our lips together. I pulled my hand out of her pants and lifted her up. "Bedroom?" I asked, kissing down her jaw to her neck. "Door end of hall." I walked down the hall, her lips leaving kisses on my neck. I couldn't wait to strip her of her clothes and sink my dick into her tight pussy.

Once in the room I dropped her on the bed and went to close the door. "Strip. Now." I pulled my shirt off my head, threw it to the floor, and walked towards her. "Now!" She pulled her shirt over her head revealing her bar. I dropped to my knees and started to help pull her jeans and underwear down and off her legs. "Take that fucking bra off." I pushed her legs apart and admittedly connected my mouth to her wet cunt. Her hips lifted off the bed when I ran my tongue through her slit, smiling it around her clit.

I hummed at the taste of her. Always so sweet. I laid an arm over her stomach and pushed her hips back down on the bed, holding her there. The two fingers I had in her just minutes ago were pushed back inside of her. The sounds of her moans were like music, sweet, sweet music to my ears. I could feel her tighten around my fingers when I sucked her clit into my mouth, scraping my teeth over the bundle of nerves.

"Please. Please…" she was begging me to make her come. So I pulled aways. A loud whine left her and her eyes shot open. "What the fu…" I didn't wait for her to finish. I didn't take any time at all shoving myself inside of her. Her back arched as my cock stretched her. "Fuck! Fucking shit! You're so fucking tight, baby. I've fucking missed how this pussy just socks my cock in. So fucking greedy."

I pulled almost all the way out and slammed back into her. Her legs wrapped around my waist when bent over to attach our lips. My hips snapped forward hitting right where I know she needs it. Her walls spasmed around me and my dick twitched inside of her. I wasn't going to last long, but I knew she wasn't going to either. "I'm gonna fill this tight cunt so full. Breed you again and this time watch as your belly grows round with my child."

Her pussy was like a vice, clamping around me as she let go, soaking my cock and the bed. I came right after, filling her full of my cum. "Such a good girl." I kissed her and slowly pulled out of her. I looked down to see our mixed releases spilling out of her. I shoved my finger inside of her, pushing it back inside. "Gotta keep that inside you, princess."

[z0mbieparty]

I'll get back to asks soon!! working on pattypoke art cuz i'm so cool, but for now it's beddy-bye-time for me!

[sidereus-stars]

what time is it for you go to bed???? /nf silly

it may or may not be like.2 am I am EPPY and going beddy bye soon hopefully maybe perchance :33

[trigun-sims-shenanigans]

wolfwood, you dog

livio went home and oop ! meryl is here !

perhaps she followed him.... ?

first up, now that we're back at home and its getting late, wolfwood is still hanging with milly and has decided its time to flirt

he even decided to flirt in front of meryl (WHO OFC WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE COMPUTER. GIRL. YOU HAVE A PROBLEM)

important to note that wolfwood has had this prompt in his first circle of interactions with milly all day

okay,,,, hold on meryl stood up and immediately hugged wolfwood,,,, and he ? is thinking of her ?

the relationship dynamic in this house is so wild

meryl and livio had a cute time sitting together and talking i would honestly be mad distracted by his body but thats bc im horn- (is dragged off stage)

anyways !!! they are all friends and they hang out together and have fun !!!! and are cute !!! i love them !!!

(i thought it was hilarious to see wolfwood just... hanging in the back LOL)

after they've eaten dinner, wolfwood got on a... mischief streak ?

he lied to milly about his job, saying that he did entertainment when he actually is a dishwasher

then he decided to mock milly kldjsljf

then he flirted with her T-T

milly and meryl soon went home bc it is beddy-bye time, so wolfwood tucked himself in.... but liv decided to stay up late gaming

and then ? in the middle of the night he got up and snuck outside

and then spoke with the glowing tree they have in the yard.....

perhaps there is something more going on with livio that we can't see yet.

[naenaex0xx]

im mourning the lack of bed time tea time today

[darsynia]

Trust Fall | Ch 26a

gif found at @just-dreaming-marvel

Story Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: Tony/OC, ‘terrorists made us fall in love;’ IM1 timeline. In this chapter, a very ill Tony fears what Obediah will do to him in this state, and Emory confronts the reality that the scientist she's been fearing isn't who she thought.

Length: 2,680

Taglist: @starryeyes2000 @raith-way @arrthurpendragon @themaradaniels @starksbf @chickensarentcheap @tiny-anne @thorfics @chibijusstuff

Excerpt:

Before Tony can stop him, Obadiah Stane arcs a large arm around Tony’s back, hauling him to his feet.

“Gentle with the merchandise,” Tony mutters. “JARVIS? Beddy Bye protocol, okay? No roses.”

“Protocol implemented.”

There’s no such thing, but JARVIS is smart, and by adding a reference to womanizing, Tony hopes he’s concealing Emory’s importance to him. He sneaks a glance toward his computer as he’s guided toward the stairs, seeing that every screen is black, with no power indicator lights. Once they step onto the landing, the basement lights even shut off completely.

Stane adjusts his grip-- and Tony can totally picture the fall, the push. He’ll end up laying there in the dark while Happy makes things worse in a jail cell, while Pepper and Coulson are attacked by one of Stane’s cronies back in California. Emory’s mission will fail the next day because some idiot will share the news of Tony’s ‘accidental death’ and erase her ability to use her powers.

Chapter Twenty-Six: Solar Eclipse

“Sir?”

Tony comes to with his head pillowed on his arms on the too-low computer desk. His back is bent at an unnatural angle and as soon as he straightens up, his stomach lurches sickeningly.

“Sir, Mr. Stane is requesting entry at the gate. There appears to be a member of the press who is observing and snapping photos whilst speaking on a cellular phone.”

“Open it up; s’the lesser of two evils,” Tony says blearily. He hopes he’s right. “Where’s Happy? Should be here by now,” he adds, checking his empty wrist for a watch before moving the mouse to wake his computer for the time. It’s nearly five PM, which is crazy. He’d decided to take a twenty minute snooze at two. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Frankly, sir, you needed the rest. Everything you set in motion is incomplete, as yet.”

“Yeah, okay,” Tony says. “Fuck, this is terrible. How do chronically ill people deal with this shit? I feel like my stomach is about to turn inside-out.”

“You do have a fever. There’s some medication for that in the--”

“Upstairs bathroom, with the Pepto, yeah. That’s what I need Hogan for. Meds might as well be on the moon.” He feels shitty, and when he feels shitty, he is shitty. Maybe it’s a good thing Emory’s not around for this.

“Mr. Hogan is currently detained by the Transportation Security Agency. He appears to have made some comments that were not taken well, according to the preliminary police report.” There’s a pause, during which Tony tries to decide whether he wants to laugh or cry at this new development, before JARVIS says, “The report states that his companion refused to vouch for whether Mr. Hogan could be dangerous. That companion is currently making his way to the basement by my direction, via the speakers. I will send all further private messaging to your phone, sir.”

A chill goes through Tony that has nothing to do with the fever. JARVIS doesn’t like to split vocal focus because it goes against the idea that he is Tony’s singular ‘robot butler.’ He hardly ever breaks that illusion. As for Happy, he and Stane have never been friendly, so there's a 50/50 chance that Obie saw the detention as a way to spend an afternoon free of Happy’s interference.

It could also be a way to spend an afternoon free of Tony’s bodyguard. 

He’s in no condition to argue for Hogan’s release, which means he’s on his own. The possibilities spiral out like fear fractals spinning in all directions, and bile shoots the wrong way up Tony’s throat. He coughs it back down and gets up to greet his possible adversary.

“Your expression is exactly as I pictured it,” the scientist says, her creased face breaking into a pleased smile. Her accent is solidly Eastern European, but fluid, as though she’s long accustomed to speaking English. “As soon as I found out who you were, I couldn’t wait to meet you! Come closer, settle in!”

As Harris wheels Emory closer to the desk, the reason for the dimness around that area becomes more clear. Though the room has a higher ceiling at that end, there are no lights on except the lamps beside the desk. Compounding that, the wall to their left is taken up by a large, darkly dyed stained-glass window that lets little of the morning sunlight through. It’s hard to make out the design, as though some sort of awning has been constructed on the outside of the building to protect it, with a side effect of blocking most of the light. All she can discern are multiple robed men standing over a line of supplicants with their heads bowed.

Emory’s so caught up by the strange window and its looming figures that she’s startled when the wheelchair stops a few inches from the desk. She hurriedly looks up, and the scientist leans over and pins Emory with a smile that’s halfway between Horror Movie Grandmother and Friendly Librarian. The old woman’s soft and pillowy looking bun had looked healthy and slick from the doorway, but up close Emory can see that it’s rigid, practically lacquered in place.

“You were in that cave with Tony Stark, weren’t you?” their bizarre hostess asks slyly.

Their plan hinges on this woman believing that Tony wouldn’t help her. “I haven’t seen him since we escaped,” Emory says sadly, her voice muffled by the oxygen mask. Her powers hover at the back of her mind, waiting for a strong emotion (it’ll be fear, she’s certain) to spark into usefulness. 

“It’s just impossible to hear you, child!” Clapping her stick-like hands, the scientist addresses the number of uniformed ‘staff’ lurking nearby. “Leave us. I will speak of Sasha with these two. Alone.”

A tall, muscular man stops to rest a meaty hand on the old woman’s chair. “Babi Iulia, vei fi în--”

“Yes, I’ll be safe, yes! Go away, Draga,” the woman says, sounding both amused and annoyed. Once her staff had all withdrawn, she adds, “Ten years without any family, you build your own,” she shrugs at Emory and Harris. “Too long, and they think they’re owed your safety! Ai!”

“I’m glad you mentioned Stark,” Agent Harris says.

The old woman smiles. “Yes. He is the key to everything.”

“Jesus, Tony, you’re a mess!”

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Doctor Phil,” Tony says, his hand still up by his ear. He’d remembered the Sonic Taser thirty seconds ago, and if the custom earplugs hadn’t been in his desk drawer, there would have been no chance of getting them in without suspicion. As it is, he can’t quite get the second one situated; it’s just a hair too large. He’s forced to palm it, cramming the thing into his pocket. With trepidation further roiling his already upset stomach, Tony leans back in his chair and turns to face the business partner he’s grown to mistrust enough to wear protection.

“If I’d known you were this fucked up I’d have made sure Pepper was on the plane! Anything I can do for ya? You know, an hour ago I’d have said pizza was the cure for all ills, but not after seeing how green you look!” Obie leans towards him, and it’s all Tony can do not to recoil. 

It’s unseasonably cool in the city today, and Stane hadn’t hurried to see him. So why is he practically drenched in sweat?

“You’re a sight yourself! You get a TSA interrogation of your own?” Tony jokes, leaning back in his chair for effect.

Stane whips out a handkerchief from his pocket, and a small black object flies out, bouncing on the concrete floor. Tony doesn’t get a good look at it before it’s stuffed back in, but Obie looks rattled.

“This from the man who looks like death warmed over? Come on, ya big baby. I’ll help you up into bed. Lord knows your dad has enough of ‘em in this house.”

Before Tony can stop him, Obadiah Stane arcs a large arm around Tony’s back, hauling him to his feet.

“Gentle with the merchandise,” Tony mutters. “JARVIS? Beddy Bye protocol, okay? No roses.”

“Protocol implemented.”

There’s no such thing, but JARVIS is smart, and by adding a reference to womanizing, Tony hopes he’s concealing Emory’s importance to him. He sneaks a glance toward his computer as he’s guided toward the stairs, seeing that every screen is black, with no power indicator lights. Once they step onto the landing, the basement lights even shut off completely.

Stane adjusts his grip-- and Tony can totally picture the fall, the push. He’ll end up laying there in the dark while Happy makes things worse in a jail cell, while Pepper and Coulson are attacked by one of Stane’s cronies back in California. Emory’s mission will fail the next day because some idiot will share the news of Tony’s ‘accidental death’ and erase her ability to use her powers.

Will the subdural hematoma kill him slowly or will Stane lose patience and help things along?

“Tony, did you hear me? Pick a room before I kick the door down!” 

Tony hiccups and reorients himself, almost shocked that his depressed vision isn’t actually a reality. He’s standing in the upstairs hallway, still held upright by his business partner’s sturdy arm. He’d daydreamed his way up two flights of stairs.

In a strained voice, Obie says, “Tone, I like my shoes. If you throw up on ‘em, I’m gonna leave you in a heap in the hallway.”

“Yeah, I bet you would.” Tony staggers forward to the door they’re stopped in front of. “This one.” It’s the one he’s been sleeping in, which is not the Master Bedroom. Did Stane know that?

He swivels slowly to look at Obie. Vomiting on the guy is definitely on the table. Too late, he remembers that the armored suit is downstairs, and there aren’t speakers for JARVIS up here yet. He’s been outmaneuvered.

“You got a bucket somewhere to stick beside the bed?”

“What, for all the blood?” Tony grumbles, stumbling into the room. Stane brushes past him toward the bathroom.

“If there’s blood, you should wait and call a doc later. Do it before the evening news and BOOM! You’ll be lookin’ at substance abuse rumors, just in time for the broadcast,” Stane says, his voice obscured by the sounds of running water. Tony collapses onto the bed with his pants half-removed. He kicks them the rest of the way off and pulls the blanket up, wondering if asking for the bucket would make him look too vulnerable.

A Dixie cup is thrust into his line of sight.

“Is it poisoned?” Tony asks, sincerely, because fuck it. He’d connected Phil Coulson to Pepper hours ago. The data transfer to hack into Stark Industries’ systems went off without a hitch, according to JARVIS. Everything is already in motion, he’s just riding the Consequences Mobile as it cruises along on autopilot.

“Look at you! It wouldn’t need to be. Go to sleep, Tony,” Stane chuckles before downing half the water in an ostentatious gulp. “Your dad used to get paranoid and fatalistic when he had a fever, too. Made designing with him kinda fun, sometimes. I’ll stop by in the morning.”

“For my corpse, right, Mark Callaway?”

“Wrong Undertaker. See ya.” Stane pats the foot of the bed twice with the flat of his hand, then walks out, leaving the bedroom door open behind him. “Get better!” he calls out, jogging down the stairs.

Tony doesn’t relax until he hears the front door close. The bed is ten, maybe twenty times more comfortable than his cot in the cave… but he’s more frightened for his life now than he ever was back then. He lays still in the darkness for many long minutes, trying to settle his breathing until the distinctive sound of Stane’s car revving up and driving off persuades him to attempt some much-needed sleep.

Emory’s mission relies on being a supplicant, so she’s grateful the mask covers her reaction to hearing the woman speaking so confidently about Tony Stark.

It’s not enough.

“Stark has hooks in you!” the woman addressed as Iulia laughs. “Good! You kept him alive, no doubt. Assistants turn the world; I know, I was my husband’s lab assistant many years. You could do that diva’s job for her if you trade bodies, and I could do almost everything my husband Max did, after a few years. Not that anyone would believe me!” She jabs a wizened finger toward Emory. “You know.”

This is not going well, but Emory nods, pulling comfort from the feeling of potential energy that’s started to gather in invisible layers around her.

“She fired you for being kidnapped, I hear! HYDRA, just as bad. Max and I worked on their stolen serum for years, and always they thought it was for them. Ha! What we built, it was for Sasha, our daughter. She was born with problems, many problems. Struggled to walk, but mind as sharp as the both of us.”

The old woman’s eyes glaze over, caught up in memory. Emory looks up at Agent Harris, trying to convey worry without seeming suspicious. Their plan to beg the shady scientist for mercy is falling apart, but they’re a captive audience. Emory needs the serum, no matter what.

“I’m sorry to hear about your daughter,” she says, putting as much compassion in her voice as she can. Privately, Emory suspects that this is manipulation, a way to derail her own sympathy ploy. She’s certainly not going to play oppression olympics with someone who’s trying to ruin her life.

“You aren’t, not yet,” Iulia says. “These HYDRA bosses, they had us in the very heart of a factory. Working, hiding-- and then one day a man showed up to change everything. ‘For the better!’ he told us. Demanded to know why there was no special powers serum for him after so long we had been working! When he did not like our answers he took prototype and injected it into Sasha as punishment. ‘Now you will have to make it perfect! I will be back in three days to see your results,’ he told us.” Iulia’s whole body is rigid, eyes bright with unshed tears.

“What, you didn’t want her to have the serum dependence that you rely on so much for money now?” Agent Harris asks, her words as poisonous as her tone is sweet. Emory wonders if the other woman is picking up on the same ‘something is off’ feeling that’s been growing in the pit of her own stomach. The layers aren’t strong enough to affect the airflow around her yet, but it’s only a matter of time.

“That came later,” the old woman says dismissively, as though the jibe has glanced right off of her. “No, we were working to direct the mutation. Sasha’s was… incompatible with life. It took a time to understand what it had done, and in those three days Max and I created complete second set of research, one that would never, could never work. At dawn on the third day, I left to hide away our life’s work-- but before I returned, the factory was destroyed in huge explosion.” Iulia lifts her chin and pierces Emory with the directness of her gaze. “Sasha’s last act made worldwide headlines. That brought much scrutiny, forced HYDRA to back off and lick their wounds. As for Sasha, at least she had Max with her at--” she breaks off, pressing a shaking fist to her lips.

“I’m so sorry,” Emory whispers, dismay causing her to drop the mask she’s been holding to her face. It’s more important to let this woman see that her expression is genuine, even though she is an adversary. Breaking through the concern is a stronger feeling of wrongness, though. “Was the factory here in Sokovia?” she blurts out. It’s almost like she’s able to think more clearly now without the stale trickle of oxygen from the tank-- and her first thought is that she remembers a factory explosion in Sokovia. Except, the one she recalls wasn’t in the 40’s or 50’s, when the world’s governments were still searching for secret HYDRA cells to stamp out.

It was in 1998, the year she’d met Rory Fall.

Emory grips the arms of her wheelchair, transfixed on the look of sly calculation that has replaced the grief on Iulia’s face.

“Sokovia, yes,” the woman says quietly.

Emory’s energy increases, the circling layers strong enough to flutter at her loose strands of hair. Behind her, Agent Harris shifts positions. In a stiff voice Harris says, “Are you telling us that a new wing of HYDRA was active there in the nineties?”

Iulia reaches down to open one of the drawers at her desk. She pulls out a padded white envelope and some folded pieces of notebook paper that seem to be completely covered in handwriting. “They never left.”

Next chapter, everything goes to hell for them both...

[sanguine-melancholia]

hello, beloved mutual. today I have been stricken with the curse of sleepless nights, and awoke at 4 past midnight, and I now must face the deepest tragedies of slaving at a food servitude establishment whilst a horribly sleepy guy. In earnest I hope your night was restful and rejuvenating, and you have an abundance of time and energy to seek fulfillment in your passions (gay bloody cathedrals). blessed be

hello beloved mutual!!! ough i’m sorry that’s so evil sleepy guys like you shouldn’t have to work they should be able to go back to their beddy bye for as long as needed 😔 i got a 5 hour chunk of sleep and am hoping i’ll be able to get a few more hours in somewhere. ougjhhh thank u i hope my day can be full of gay bloody cathedrals, that’s the dream,,, ily good luck with everything i hope that today is easy on you and you’ll be able to get some good rest soon <333

[classicaly]

Fight, flight, or fawn? Why choose?

Introducing STRESS NAPS!

Make Future!You want to FIGHT Current!You by giving into the honk-shoo!

Make your dreams take FLIGHT by tucking in to beddy-bye time!

Express your FAWNdness for sleep by counting those sheep!

Coming soon to a tired bitch near you!

[doctorcoolata]

my brain feels bad, it is beddy bye time soon i think

[cirillafionaelenriannon]

also its sooo hard to accumulate money in ts4 and i dont rmember it being easy in ts3 either but a lot of the time i would use inheritance through sim points to get more money because my sims r gnna be needing to buy their first house soon and let me tell u . These mfs have like 2 dollars .. AURRRSO their work hours r killing me it is godamn boring to have my sims work 5 days a week .. i make them take days off so i can actually have fun w the game Because what the hell else. they get home at 5 pm n then its dinner n beddy bye. Boring adults.