#bio-bubble break

[rottenblur]

Post workout pump|A.ANDERSON

Abby x fem reader 2.3k

Summary: Your gym rat Tinder date isn’t one to not kiss on the first date, a coffee date is much more interesting with her.

WARNINGS: public shit, public fingering??? Dirty talk, Abby being bold as hell, head!! Fingering, quick mention of that liquor. Fucking on the first date.

Abby’s Tinder profile was simple, a couple of gym rat pictures, and a couple cute candid ones someone had taken of her with a background of beautiful scenery. The one that made you swipe on her was a picture of her smiling in the forest, normally you wouldn’t go for “outdoorsy” people, you wanted someone you could comfortably rot away with.

It was her fucking smile. The way that her hair practically glowed in the sunlight peaking through the trees, how her freckles complimented every feature on her face. It wasn’t just her looks though, you weren’t that shallow. Her bio was simple, simple in a way it didn’t seem like she was faking it for people to like her.

“Will fight for you.” And you believed it with every inch of your body, she looked like fought off bears for a living. She could break you in half, part of you wanted her to.

Your conversation on the app was short, you gave her your number pretty fast, I mean she asked for it.

You got a text from a random number quickly after you gave it to her.

(7xx) 8xx-6xxx: Hey beautiful.

You replied quickly.

You: Hey.. this abby?

The typing bubbles popped up immediately, she responded fast and used punctuation, which was rare. In your experience, and probably rare to everyone on dating apps. To be honest, this was your first time on a dating app, you had too much on your plate to even think about dating since high school.

Abby: [IMAGE ATTACHED]

Abby: Sure is.

The picture was a live photo in a gym mirror, she had dumbbells resting by her feet, her body covered in a tank top and loose basketball shorts. Her muscles were huge, you didn’t think someone could be that strong, the sweat making them shiny didn’t help how hard you were staring right now.

You: oh my god…

That’s all you can get out, you have no thoughts.

You: i’m blushing

You throw your phone, you’ve only been talking to her for maybe an hour and yet she already has you wrapped around her finger.

The text bubbles pop up, she’s typing.

Abby: Aw, such a sweet girl, already blushing for me.

If you weren’t blushing before, you were now. You couldn’t stand another minute not being with her.

You: are you busy today? I need to see you

Text bubbles pop up, then disappear, come back then disappear again. Read, for ten minutes. Were you moving too fast? You put your phone down, tidying up your room to distract yourself from the stress. You get into the shower, your phone on the sink counter for music. You wash your hair when your phone starts ringing, fuck.

You grab the towel hanging up, drying off your hands and step out of the shower to pick up your phone, it’s her. You press the green accept button and put the phone up to your ear, pushing your wet hair out of the way.

“Hey.” She says. Her voice, oh my fuck, her voice. It was gentle but so heavy with intent, she sounded like she only spoke if she meant it.

“Hi.” You respond back, wrapping the towel around your body and stepping out of the bathroom to make sure she heard you well.

“God, you sound adorable. I’m not busy, just at the gym right now but I’m free in thirty minutes if you wanna go for coffee.” She says, you can hear the dumb bells banging in the back now.

Your mouth falls open, she really wants to see you? A date? Today? You forget to speak.

“Yeah, yeah please. Where to?” You respond back.

You hear her laugh slightly, then take a breath. “I’ll text you the address beautiful, you’ll like it I know you will.” God people making decisions for you was suddenly so hot.

You agree and giggle, uncontrollably. “Bye bye.”

“See ya.” She says then hangs up. Fuck you were nervous.

You get a text from her, the address was a small locally owned coffee shop just down the street from you, maybe she lived close. Surprisingly you had never been there before, maybe you could have met her sooner if you stepped out of your comfort zone more often, you would have met her sooner.

Twenty minutes had passed, you got back into the shower, finishing it and getting ready. Drying your hair and throwing on a cute fitting outfit, something easy, or just easy access, hey you weren’t against doing stuff on the first date, especially not with her.

You walk to the coffee shop, texting her when you arrive at the front doors, her assuring you she was already there. She was early, you liked that.

You walk inside and that's when you see her. She was in the back, in a booth manspreading under dimly lit lights. You walk over towards her, her hands set on the table, fiddling with a stir stick. She looks up and sees you, her blue eyes light up. She stands up, she towers over you. You look up at her, her freckles are even cuter in person.

“Hey beautiful, you look you know..beautiful.” She says looking you up and down. You smile at her muttering a greeting back. You were almost shaking, she was perfect, everything you could have ever wanted.

“You want a drink? I’ll order, just finished mine.” She says, placing a hand on your upper arm, it engulfed your arm in full. You nod and tell her your order. She smiles at you and walks off to order, you sit down scooting to the inside. A one-sided booth, leaving no choice but to sit right next to her, her boldness was attractive.

She comes back, placing your drink on the table in front of you, scooting herself right next to you placing hers next to yours. You pick up your drink taking a sip, as she lays her arm on the booth behind your back spreading her legs, getting comfortable. “Was that picture from today?” You refer to the picture she sent you earlier. She nods turning her head to look at you.

Her strawberry blond hair slightly damp presumably from a shower, her blue t-shirt clung to her arms, her jeans tight to her legs. God.

“You like what you see?” She says tilting her head at you, looking you up and down in return. You nod shyly looking away as you fiddle with the end of your skirt. She catches that, flicking your hands away, replacing them with hers. “You wear this for me? I like it, looks really good on you sweetheart.”

God the pet name, her hands on you, on your clothes. Her compliments, she has you melting. “I wore it for you Abby.” You say looking at her, she looks up from your legs to your eyes. She smiles, rubbing your cheeks, keeping one hand on your thigh. “God you’re adorable, I got you blushing already.” She takes her hand off your cheek and takes a sip of her drink.

“What made you want to talk to me?” She says as she rubs her thumb on your engulfed thigh. You’re fighting to not squeeze your thighs together. You look at her lips, and her eyes then respond. “You’re pretty, I mean you’re hot, you’re intimidating it’s attractive.” You say. She nods, humming a response to you.

“Well, I thought about how fucking cute you’d look with my head between your thighs.” She said it so innocently, her hand moving up under your skirt, you couldn’t handle it your trap her hand by squeezing your thighs together.

She clicks her tongue at you tapping your thigh with her free thumb for you to open your legs. You submit to her order, opening your legs for her. Her finger grazes your clothed clit, your panties wet from her teasing. You look at her and finally respond. “I’d like that, alot.” Your cheeks were burning up, your whole body was burning up with need.

She leans in closer to you, whispering into your ear. “You’re so perfect, so fucking ready for me, so beautiful.” A whine falls out of your mouth, uncontrollably. Her fingers continue dancing from your clit to your slit, teasing you no, torturing you.

You place one elbow on the table, the other gripping Abby’s thigh, you were dripping onto your skirt it was unbearable. You finally mutter out exactly what you need to say.

“I need you Abby, I need you.” You say. She pulls her hand away, awwing in response, turning your head towards hers with a grip on your chin. She smiles and shakes her head. “Ask nicely beautiful.” You lick your lips and nod. “I need you please, please Abby.

She lets go of your face, standing up and holding out a hand for you, you take it letting her pull you up out of the booth. Your legs were weak, even trembling, she noticed this and smirked at you.

She drove the two of you to her apartment, so fucking close to yours, her hand on your thigh the whole way there, her glances never made you blush any less each time. She parks her car and guides you up to her apartment with your hand clutched all the way there.

She unlocks her door, leading you in first, she walks in behind you, and kicks off her shoes. She grabs you, pushing you against the door connecting your lips with hers, locking the door with one hand, the other wrapped around your waist.

She pulls away, looking at you with those lustful blue eyes, they looked much brighter when you first met her but now there's nothing darker. She locks lips with you picking you up and carrying you towards her bedroom, her hands full of ass.

She’s mirroring your whimpers into the kiss with grunts, your arms wrapped around her neck. As she enters the bedroom with your legs wrapped around her, you fiddle with her braid, undoing it and running your fingers through the loose strands.

She throws you down onto the bed, the plush duvet sinking behind your back. Your quick breaths are loud in the quiet room, Abby stares are you eating you up with her eyes. “What do you want beautiful?” she says to you, stripping her jeans off revealing her grey boxer briefs, a wet spot that catches your eye. Apparently, you're not the only one worked up.

When you don't respond she hums a “hmm?” to you pulling you from your thoughts. “I want you, I want to feel you everywhere Abby.” A quiet grunt comes from the back of her throat. She leans to you, putting her knees on the bed and caging you in with her arms. She kisses you, her tongue tangled with yours. She pulls away to strip her shirt from her body, tossing it aside.

You admire her body, stripped from her tight t-shirt her muscles look even bigger. She places your hands on her shoulders pulling your shirt off. She leans down to unhook your bra and kisses you.

She scans your body, her eyes make you want her even more. She kisses your lips, pushing her knee in between your thighs applying the perfect amount of friction as she moves to make out with you.

She kisses down your bare chest sucking purple spots all the way down your stomach, your neck to your hips littered in hickeys. “So fucking good for me.” She mutters out as she flips the hem of your skirt up onto your stomach. She kisses the inside of your thighs, whines and whimpers falling out of your mouth with need.

She leaves marks leading up to your panties, now even wetter with want. She pushes them to the side, taking a quick lick and sucking on your clit then looking up at you. Her eyes, her face from the angle could make you cum right there and then.

“You taste so fucking good beautiful.” You were melting. She attaches her mouth back to your clit spiralling circles with her tongue, holding your hips down with one hand.

She rubs your hip as you fight to ride her face, take control. She sucks your clit and pushes two fingers inside, filling you so well. Her fingers found places inside you, you never knew existed.

Her tongue quickens it's pace as so does her fingers pumping in and out of you. Moans fall from the back of your throat, you can hear Abby’s grunts vibrating against your clit.

She disconnects her mouth, pumping and curling her fingers to the perfect spot at a brutal pace, she looks up at you, arched back gripping the blanket. “Such a good fucking girl.” Her praises push you over the edge. She connects her lips back pulling you quickly to your climax. You look down to her, as your thoughts dissapear.

You pulse all over her fingers, and she pulls them out, kissing your thigh. She looks back at you, as she sucks you off her fingers. “So good sweetheart, so goddamn good.” She crawls her back up to your lips kissing you gently.

She whispers into your ear. “You make such pretty noises for a slut.” That shocked you, after all those praises, she degraded you. It had you ready for round two all in eight words.

She lays next to you, looking you up and down. “Want a drink?” She asks.

You nod, she gets up tossing you her t-shirt and a fresh pair of underwear from her drawer, a pair of black boxers. They were loose resting on your hips as the shirt went to mid thighs.

She walks out of the room, and you follow her sitting on the couch as she pulls a bottle of dark liquor from her bar cart. You lay down, she sits down placing your legs on top of hers passing you the drink. She tucks her hair behind her ear and looks at you, placing her hand on your thigh.

“Wanna stay the night?”

A/N: AHHHH I wrote this really fast if there are any spelling mistakes/ grammar mistakes LOOK AWAY. I love Abby thank you.

[cryiling]

thinking about that bkdk edating in middle school trope, except they're amino boyfriends 💀

they meet on an all might amino community. katsuki is one of the community mods, and izuku is the leader of an analysis club on there. izuku's posts were often featured and very popular in the community (he was def a microcelebrity), and katsuki always gave him a ton of amino coins on his posts.

for a challenge he's hosting for his club, izuku makes a huge deep-dive post analyzing all might's rise to fame in his bronze age. this post gets close to 10k likes, and katsuki gifts him 5k amino coins on the post. when izuku sees that number, he freaks out and assumes it must be a mistake since that's a huge number, who in their right mind would give him that much money??

he messages katsuki (who's username is 𝓓𝔂𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 ⛓️💥) (LMAOOOOO) and asks if the amount of coins was a mistake + offers to give them back. katsuki tells him that there was no mistake, and that he just really liked izuku's post. izuku is really flattered that this guy liked his analysis so much, and they continue texting back and forth for a while.

they follow each other and put each other in their bios under "bffs," and a month or two after that, they officially become boyfriends. izuku buys amino+ using all the coins katsuki had given him (katsuki keeps spending his allowance to buy more amino coins so he's super rich). they start matching profile themes after that, switching to a new theme every month. they have matching profile frames and chat bubbles and everything, and izuku makes a sticker pack of all might faces to use when texting katsuki (sometimes katsuki uses the stickers too, but only when texting izuku)

everyone on all might amino knows they're dating, since they're both such high-profile people in the community. they become the community's it-couple, and people love commenting on their walls how cute their matching profiles are. katsuki comments under all of izuku's posts praising his analysis, and izuku always replies with a string of all might heart-eye stickers.

6 months into their relationship, izuku tells katsuki he can call him by his real name. up until now, izuku had gone by the nickname "golden" in honor of all might's golden age. when izuku tells katsuki his name, though, he doesn't get a response. the next day, izuku wakes up to find that katsuki's profile has been deleted entirely.

izuku feels like throwing up. he doesn't know what happened to dynamight, if he caused this, what could have caused this. he debates deleting his account too, ashamed and confused and hurt, but ultimately decides against it. he changes his profile theme back to an aesthetic picture set of all might in his iconic golden age pose, and continues posting on all might amino as if nothing happened. he doesn't reach out to new people on amino again.

when izuku gets into ua and his workload drastically increases, he stops finding time to post on amino, eventually deleting the app entirely (his profile stays up, though).

in second year, izuku is sitting in the common room with his friends, somehow having been roped into a conversation about dating. "you've never been in a relationship before, have you, deku-kun?" uraraka asks him.

his friends' eyes all focus on him, and he blushes. "well, i had an online boyfriend in middle school, but i'm not sure if that counts." his friends gape at him, clearly surprised. some other people lingering about in the common area also tune into the conversation. katsuki is one of them.

"really, midoriya-kun?" iida says, doing his best to hide his blatant shock. "i must say, that sounds rather out of character for you!"

"did you guys break up or something?" todoroki asks.

izuku grimaces, remembering what happened. "i told him my real name, and then he deleted his account. i think it was because of my name, but I guess i don't know for sure."

uraraka frowns. "that sucks! he didn't deserve you anyway. what an asshole move." the rest of izuku's friends nod in agreement at that. out of the corner of his eye, izuku sees katsuki get up from his armchair and storm out of the room.

months later, izuku and katsuki finally start dating for real. izuku is so overwhelmed with happiness, and katsuki's eyes light up every time he sees izuku. one night, though, katsuki pulls him aside. "there's something i need to tell you."

izuku frowns in confusion. "what's up?"

katsuki takes a deep breath. "...i'm dynamight."

this does not clear izuku's confusion. "um... yeah, i know what your hero name is."

"no, it's-" katsuki cuts himself off, then starts again. "i was dynamight on amino, too."

izuku feels his heart drop. he's not sure what katsuki is saying, why he's bringing it up. "you... we were... you mean we dated back in middle school?"

katsuki nods, eyes on the floor. he doesn't say anything else.

"why did you..." izuku licks his lips in apprehension. "why did you delete your account?"

katsuki is silent for a moment. "i freaked out when i found out who you were," he finally says. "i mean, you know how i was treating you in real life back then. and we had been texting all that time, and i had been comforting you from the bullying you were going through, only to realize it was me who was- i didn't... i didn't know what to say. and obviously i was really immature at the time and wasn't ready to process my feelings yet. but that whole thing helped me realize my feelings for you, even though i didn't want to accept that at the time.

"but," katsuki continues, clearly on a roll now, "that still doesn't excuse what i did. it was a shitty move. and i know i've apologized for how i bullied you before, but i'm sorry for this, too, izuku. i know i hurt your feelings. i swear i'll be a better boyfriend this time, i promise. uh- only if... if you still want to be together."

izuku can't even think of what to say for a moment, still silently reeling at katsuki's confession. eventually he says, "no, i- i get it. we were both pretty immature at the time, and to be honest i kind of got over it a while ago. but," he smiles, "that apology really means a lot to me. and of course i still want to be with you."

he leans in to kiss katsuki briefly. izuku doesn't think he'll ever get used to that.

katsuki rests his forehead against izuku's, eyes taking in izuku's face. "i swear i'll be an even better boyfriend than dynamight was, golden."

and then they lived happily ever after :>

[sinnabum45]

Wright family 💕

[Image description: gray tone digital comic of Ace Attorney characters, Phoenix Wright and Trucy Wright. Page one: Trucy is 8 years old and she peaks into the kitchen to see Phonix slumped over the table with alcohol around him. He is crying and she watches from behind the wall. She moves away and starts crying, too. Text: “Daddy… Daddy is sad again…” Page two: Trucy looks up and clenches her fist with a determined look on her face. Text: “ I have to help Daddy become happy again! I will help daddy, then he won’t leave me!” She silently cheers with her arms up. Time passes and Trucy is fourteen. She is holding a wine bottle that Phoenix had hidden. Page three: Trucy looks at the bottle with sadness while Phoenix looks away feeling guilty. There are double boxes for the texts: “I’m sorry… I’m not good enough.” Page four: the comic is now fully colored. Time passes and Phoenix is putting his attorney’s badge onto his suit. Trucy is looking at him smiling. Phoenix turns to her and smiles back. Page five: Trucy hugs Phoenix with tears in her eyes. Phoenix hugs her back and is now crying. He says,” I’m sorry, Trucy… Daddy’s put you through a lot.” Page six: Phoenix and Trucy and smiling at each other with tears in their eyes. There are double bubbles with texts: “I love you.” End description.]

Links to help Palestine and other resources! 🇵🇸

[Plain text: Links to help Palestine and other resources! (palestine flag). End plain text.]

I have a lot of thoughts about the Wright family. Especially Trucy's experience being adopted suddenly after her father abandons her. I wanted to go into more detail about how the events in her life might have affect her, but that would've been very long-- I rarely see anyone bring it up (I could just not be seeing them of course). Her father abandoning her, then having to move in with a stranger (at first), then having to also live with and depend on Phoenix, who is struggling with his mental and physical health, and also being used by Kristoph and her adoptive dad in a way (making her turn in falsified evidence, help cheat for gambling, etc.). Also the fact that her mother disappeared and her bio dad literally getting murdered. There's so much more that happens to Trucy like-- BRUH give her a break 😭 I just feel like maybe these reasons are why she comes off like she has to shoulder a lot of responsibilities even though she is a child. She kind of takes on the parental role of scolding Phoenix when he drinks.

Of course, I don't blame Phoenix for struggling since he was also going through shit. I just also feel for Trucy as well 😢 Not every family is perfect, which is why I like how their family is portrayed! Even though they're struggling, they still know that they love each other and can depend on each other. It's still not fair to Trucy that she has to live/deal with the adults around her's mistakes and choices. I feel like she has a lot of trauma to unpack and heal from. I think that's also important to remember as well. Phoenix may not have been the best dad, but he tries and they love each other so much 😭🤲💕💕 I just love their dynamic. Especially how quick Phoenix just jumps into the father role 🥺

[apocalypse-shuffle]

RED HOOD | BATFAMILY (assorted canon)

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“Long Overdue” (Jason Todd & Batmom!Reader) and (background Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)

| Reader was with Bruce in the past but grew distant after Jason’s death. No one tells her when he comes back from the dead until Bruce is forced to bring her in on a raid when they’re overwhelmed. -Jason and Batmom!Reader reunion.

| SFW, canon typical action/violence, cursing?, crying?

| This is like half fanon half UTRH/Batman:Hush. I’m really just fucking around with canon rn. Also the pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source - Batman: Three Jokers comic)

| 2k+ words

| parts: one, spurt, two, three, four, five, six/six point five, seven.

Ma. God, no one called you that anymore. The way your eyes begin to prickle is a clear indication.

With you Dick wasn’t the type. Once he’d worked himself up to it he’d called you mom; slightly different from the few ways he referred to his bio mother, but something shared between the two of you all the same.

And Tim? Well he wasn’t your child plain and simple. Tim still had his parents for one, and for two he was intrinsically Bruce’s. By the time he’d figured his way into the Batcave you’d been gone, most of your shit moved out of the manor, and desperately waving divorce papers Bruce refused to acknowledge in the air. You didn’t have anything to do with his indoctrination outside of exactly one instance of him finding you to ask if you’d reconsider the separation. Some Batman needed a Robin and Bruce Wayne needed his wife type shit.

Either way Tim didn’t call you any rendition of mom because you weren’t his. The most you got was him addressing you by your maiden name and then eventually your first and you were content with that.

Then if he didn’t call you mom, the girls sure as hell didn’t either. Outside of Barbara the others never even became regular conversation partners. Cass was a rare sighting in your life and Stephanie and you’s relationship would never progress past the casual advocacy you tried giving her because she was another dead Robin to add to what’s now technically a list.

At the end of the day, out of all the people who considered you a mother, only Jason added that ‘a’ and you wanted to grip that name tight and hold it to you. Break your ribs open and force it into your chest cavity. The need to fulfill that ache cuts deep and you take a step forward.

Jason startles though, undoing all his own forward progress, and you falter. That’s right. Jason didn’t like for people to touch him. Definitely didn’t like hugs either. Not surprise ones at least. Before his death you’d gotten close enough he didn’t mind when you swooped in, but now?

“Can I-? Can I hug you?” You press trembling lips together for another horrible swallow. “Please…?”

Jason jerks, two hastily aborted movements at once, before his obstructed voice meets your ears.

“Fine.”

You practically fall on him before pulling him into you. Unfortunately he’s just as stiff as his voice and you have to take a second to figure out how to slot against him.

Jason fits in your arms differently than he used to - broader and taller by a mile - but after a few beats he relaxes into them just the same. The subtle addition of weight makes a sob bubble up your throat.

You rap your knuckles on the side of the helmet.

“Take this shit off.”

He hesitates and a sharp pang manages to worm its way into the already shitty cocktail of emotions you’re feeling. It hits your spine like lightning, forces you up and has you an arms length away in half an inhale.

Maybe before now you’d been going through too much all at once for the trepidation to hit, but it was hitting now. You’d never seen Hood without- well without the Hood. Only Jumbie raised from the dead the way Jason did, and while you’d take your son anyway you could get him you wouldn’t accept some Thing parading around in his skin.

Reading your burst of movement for what it is, Jason backtracks, rising arms dropping to his sides. “Maybe I shouldn’t…”

“Jason Peter-” you inhale deeply, catching yourself, and hold a hand up to stop him. You both ignore the obvious way it trembles. “-only… if…if you want to. I’m not trying to force anything.”

He’s slow to nod, weight shifting from his left to his right leg and back again before he says something too low for you to hear. You’re about to ask him to repeat when he speaks up, this time aiming his voice somewhere around your shoulder while bowing his head.

“No, I- Alright. Just hold on.”

Haunches suitably raised and heart in your throat you pay close attention as the helmet comes up, Jason having released some catch in the back.

It goes over, the helmet clatters to the ground, and the man who stares back at you is…hard to place.

The low fluorescent lighting of the narrow room combined with the concrete walls casts soft enough shadows over his face that while his features are warped they’re not discernible. Which means you can’t completely rule out the uncanniness wafting off of him as just your brain (along with your entire perception of the universe) splinting in half.

It makes your face heat up. He looks familiar, but you can’t say you wouldn’t have passed him straight if you’d seen him on the street. He’s too big for one, even for how you’d all imagined he’d look grown up, standing more than a foot taller than the last day you saw him. Taller than malnourishment would’ve ever let him be.

The sob you let out makes you both flinch.

One hand snaps to your mouth, the other waving him off.

“I’m sorry I- I don’t-. This is just-”

Even with the way he’s leaning away from you he shakes his head. “I get it, it's fine.”

His voice is faint, cut up and hoarse like he hasn’t used it in a while, and it’s the prettiest thing you’ve heard in ages.

“Oh,” you laugh. The wet kind that makes your throat sticky. You can only stare at him, blurry form and all, words lost to you.

Eventually, after watching your fervent effort to wipe away tears that are in no way inclined to give you a break, arms crossed Jason takes a half step forward with a shrug.

“We can…try again?”

The next little laugh you let out you practically choke on but you nod all the same.

When Jason’s the first to move your heart starts speeding away like an overexcited middle school drumline. You roll with it though, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes so they’re dry enough for you to actually see him clearly for a few seconds.

When he’s directly in front of you your hands come up slowly, giving him plenty of opportunity to move away. Or maybe to vanish.

When he does neither, only giving you a guarded look, you allow yourself to touch.

Problem is, the domino mask he’s wearing very quickly gets in your way and on your nerves when you move to frame his face. Quickly feels like if it’s not gone, if you can’t see his eyes, you’ll throw up.

To stop yourself from taking the risk and ripping it off you have to take a deep breath. Have to force down the thick build up of saliva gathering in your mouth so it pushes back the bile climbing up your throat.

“I’d like to see my son, Jason. All of you.”

To emphasize your point you tap the tip of your nail against the mask. There’s no intention on your part to cross his boundary but Jason’s hands snap up to hold onto your wrists all the same.

You look into the white lenses of his domino, fingers buzzing along the corner of the mask closest to them. His mouth twists into a frown.

“Please?”

You beg with the same ferocity a grieving mother once used when begging for her child back.

“You’re asking for a lot.”

He lets go and he takes a couple steps back and you don’t cry.

No, instead you swing your hands behind you. Clasping them together in a poor attempt to stop the buzzing sensation that travels from the tips of your fingers to take over your entire hand.

“Mmm,” you incline your head. “Well. I did help a boy get over first date jitters with a made up song once. Let that same boy talk me through an entire dissertations’ worth of his analysis of Their Eyes Were Watching God - as choppy as it was - because TWMS wouldn’t allow him to present it in class. Let him skip going to that same school and cry to me for hours after the death of Gloria Stanson. Remember a knife hidden in the corner on the highest shelf in his closet, and I remember not revealing any of that when I gave his eulogy because he once asked me to keep the important things between the two of us. So you don’t have to show me, but I think I make a pretty good qualifier when it comes to keeping this safe.”

You point straight to where his heart is tucked safely behind layers of gray armor before shrugging.

From the way his brows furrow over the domino you know he’s at least thinking about it so you step away to pick up your disregarded mask and stuff it in your waistband.

One blink. Six.

“You remember Rena?”

In front of him again, you rock back on your heels. “Mhm. And the ‘how to tie a tie’ lessons me and Bruce walked you through even though you didn’t wear a suit to that date. Remember that too.”

Jason’s smile is crooked on his face but it’s nonetheless present as he makes a noise of agreement.

“I’d just wanted to spend time with you two, I was never planning on wearing a suit to go to the skating rink.”

“We figured.”

You’re rolling onto the balls of your feet when that small smile drops and he shakes his head.

“I’m not that same boy anymore.”

You take in the way he could raise his hand and so easily touch the ceiling without having to jump. You clear the phlegm from your throat.

“I can tell.”

Jason grunts and makes a general gesture indicating something somewhere behind you.

“And I got no interest in trying to live up to whatever fucked up embalment Bruce’s got going on with my burnt suit in that case.”

That suit. Bruce’s memorial. His warning. Your breath hitches as you think of the smell of crisped blood and methanol. If Jason didn’t want to talk about it you sure as shit weren’t going to.

“I will one hundred percent take that into account.” You keep it simple, rocking on your heels again. He wasn’t asking for anything unreasonable so there wasn’t really any debate to be had. “You wanna be treated as you are? I can do that.”

Moments pass once you’ve said your peace where Jason does nothing but stare at you. The only indication he’s at all alive being his shoulders still moving - and you are watching. Eyeing that tell tale up and down like your own life will end at its falter. The pattern is slow enough to come off as pacivity but the time between each rise and fall is too measured to be uncontrolled. Exactly three point eleven seconds one way and three point eleven seconds the other. Every time.

Then he sighs, curses, and the little veil of dissolvent for the adhesive that adheres the mask to his face is in his hand. A different vial and color than when he was Robin; you don’t know why you thought it’d be the same. Or why it makes your heart clench that it’s not.

Between one thrum of the fluorescent lights and the next Jason is peeling away the domino, and you would be lying if you claimed to know where it disappeared to after that. Too caught up on what he’d been hiding to track it.

Blue. Nothing more and nothing less. Just blessedly familiar, vibrant blue. Not the dull gray they’d become by the time you were given the chance to put a gruesome sight of a child six feet under.

The “Oh wow,” tumbles from you without permission and then there’s zero hope for the waterworks you’d been holding back. The levee fails and you’re bawling before you know it. Barely holding back snot and who knows what else since you already feel like screaming.

At that point there’s no carefully thought out sentence for you to spew, no more hesitancy, no more measured breathing, and linear thought. Just the crushing need to have him close to you again.

You’re rushing forward before you know.

Wrapping your arms around Jason the next go around is both the best and the worst thing. You accommodate his new size faster, already writing over the ways he used to fit against you with the ways he does so now, but he’s still so stiff and he’s not reciprocating the hug either.

Maybe you should let go. You crossed the boundary too fast. Were too reckless. You literally have training on this and now you’re crowding him.

Okay, you’re pulling away. It’s a herculean effort but you’re forcing your arms from around his middle. You’ve got to, you don’t want to scare him off. Not when you just got him back.

There’s a soft “Not yet,” mumbled into your shoulder and then arms finally come around yours and you don’t hesitate to snap your own back into place.

He’s hugging you back.

You cry a little harder and bring one of your arms up to drape across his shoulders, pulling him closer. When you start rocking and Jason copies your momentum you press a kiss onto his temple.

“Hi,” you stutter out. Another sob. “Hi baby.”

Since he’s finally letting his arms wrap around you you don’t hesitate to run dark fingers through the truly unruly mass of black curls on his head. His hairs’ damp - most likely from sweat - but cool. Probably being tempered by the cold air blowing into the room.

It’s when you press a kiss to his forehead that you feel something else wet and your breath stutters.

“It’s okay. I got you, everything’s okay,” you whisper.

“God Ma-” his voice cracks and then you can hear the sobs he’s trying to muffle into your suit. “No it’s not.”

“I know,” you sob. “I’m sorry- so so fucking sorry.”

You sniffle and pull away to see him better. Jason’s face is flushed, his eyes wet, and cheeks streaked with tears shed. You hold your hands up to frame his face for a second time and run your thumbs through the tear tracks. His chest heaves as his body tries to regulate his breathing.

Jason clears his throat, gaze boring into yours. “Hi,” he says.

You smile, finally beginning to map out his face. First you move to frame his cheeks, too feel the warmth in them. To see if they still feel familiar. They don’t; you force yourself to accept that fact without letting it show in your expression, letting out a measured exhale before continuing. You find his jaw is more defined now too, cheeks devoid of the baby fat of five years prior.

From then on brushing your thumbs along his brows, over the bridge of his nose, traveling over his ears and skirting around his hairline - it all fills your mind with incoherent cheers.

Your thumbs hover over Jason’s eyes and you hum when he closes them for you.

The skin underneath your shaved off pads is soft. The thin layer of protection allows you to feel how his eyeballs shift, to see the way his veins show stark under light skin, to clock the life thrumming through him.

It makes your heart feel so goddamn light. You can’t stop smiling at the sight of him. Eyes still wet but clear.

“I feel like such a horrible mother,” you hiccup, hands slide down so you can once again cup his face. “I barely recognize you.”

Jason’s breathing shakes nearly in tandem with yours and his eyes squeeze tighter shut, head turning away.

“Don’t.” He takes a second to look up. Look right through you. Lashes wet and glassy eyes open, voice grating over his next words. “Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault. I don’t blame any of you for that, but especially not you.”

What you want to do is argue. You should’ve never let him put on that suit in the first place, one fucked up son should’ve been the end of it. You should’ve dropped the case you were working the second you’d heard he’d run away and you should’ve found him. Instead you keep your thoughts personal, pinning them to your brain as if it’s a cushion so that you’ll never forget, and pull your son closer. An action which he allows, resting his head on your shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re back,” you whisper into his hair. The way he instantly shakes his head makes the cool strands tickle your jawline.

“You can’t mean that.”

“If I didn’t mean it I wouldn’t have said it, Jay.”

Jason tenses before responding, words spewing without warning.

“Yeah except I’ve killed people, and I don’t regret it, and Bruce hates that - and you probably do too - but his way isn’t good enough. The people in this city deserve better so I’m doing what’s necessary-”

And that has you bristling. He must notice too because he stops short and edges away, face steeping. Caught somewhere between wanting to leave and wanting to fully kick start an argument.

…TBC

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed! I had to split this bitch in two cause it was 5,000+ words and I’m not in the business of under-indulging myself.

Listen, I’ve looked into it. Every mother/mother figure Jason’s ever had he’s referred to as “Mom”, but me personally, I didn’t grow up addressing my own mother that way so I wanted to play around with “Ma” (differentiate a little). What's funny though, is that I’ve read Dick referring to his mother as both “Ma” and “Mom” so that’s fun.

• TWMS = Thomas Wayne Middle School

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

Tagged: @aarinisreading, @niphredil-14, @mxtokko, @calsjack, @brunnetteiwik

[therealflickerman]

Split Lips (tasm!peter parker x reader)

Part one

series summary: Its simple hating peter parker, the cocky asshole who has made it his mission to one up you every chance he gets. In the same vein, its simple loving spiderman, the sweet masked vigilante who has made it his mission to ensure your safety. How simple will it be when the two worlds meet.

______________________________________________________________

chapter summary: you finally get the chance to one up peter and officially have the honour of meeting the friendly neighbourhood spiderman that everyone has been talking about.

word count: 2.3k

contents: reader is intended to be fem! (she's briefly described as such in this chapter), possible emetophobia warning?, tiny blood warning, language, a little banter and a little fluff, possible OOC peter? idk..., reader is anxious and clumbsy #selfprojecting, i'm not american which means i may get things wrong, please bare with me!!.

note: this is my first fic ever but let me cook!! thank u charlie for editing.

masterlist

series masterlist

chapter one / chapter two / chapter three / chapter four (ongoing!)

Your lip sits between your teeth, occupying them with the task of removing dead skin, it was a poor habit, something you’d done to settle nerves from a young age. You’re sure you’ll draw blood any second now as Miss Ritter works her way around the classroom, handing test results to uninterested students. A large part of you envies the way their eyes merely skim the front page of the test paper, you could only pray to care that little.

Your teeth continue their assault on your lip as you feel the usual pair of eyes boring into the side of your head. You truly do almost entertain the idea of meeting his gaze but you can’t bring yourself to give him the satisfaction. 

“You’re gonna have an aneurysm over there if you don’t chill out”

You’re not entirely sure what you did to deserve a seat next to Peter Parker, but every day for the past month you’d apologised to all possible gods for whatever sin it was that you had committed.

You avoid his gaze and he lets out a humoured scoff. 

Your foot taps against the floor as Miss Ritter now approaches your desk. She stands in front of you sorting through the test papers antagonising slowly, and for a second you’re sure she's teasing. 

“Well done” She offers a sweet smile, although it goes unnoticed as you scramble to pick up the paper from your desk.

98% 

Your eyes meet Peters,

“What did you get,” you ask, your lips leave your teeth for the first time that period and you try to suppress the cocky grin growing on your face but you’re not sure it’s possible. You watch his smirk widen and for a moment you feel yours falter.

“96%” 

A laugh of relief bubbles from your chest,

“Thank you god,” you tease and your laughter dies down.

You’re met with an eye roll. 

"What happened to the bravado, huh?" You give him a light poke in the arm, teasingly.

"Ouch... okay, I get it," he grumbles, his brows furrow slightly,  though a hint of a smile remains on his lips.

“We have a bio test on Monday don’t get so cocky” 

You shrug dismissively as you flip through your test results.

______________________________________________________________

You’re just about done with everything.

Work had practically doubled after your coworker had puked all over the break room, leaving you to scrub her throw-up from the divots in the tiled floor, and cover the two hours she had left of her shift. 

You swore you could still smell it.

You shift from foot to foot, feeling suffocated in the subway. It's packed to the brim with football fans, dressed in the colours of their respective teams and once again you’re apologising to any and all gods out there for whatever you did to deserve this. 

You’re so very close to getting your elbows involved as you push through the crowds, making it off the subway several stops early, to simply give yourself a moment of peace.

Making it to a familiar back street you take a moment to check your watch, the long hand sits just after six and the shorter one points between ten and eleven.

Silently, you curse your stupid, sickly coworker and your own poor decision-making. Your feet throb against the leather of your work shoes and you almost begin to miss the subway's scent of beer breath and football stand food. 

Your teeth catch your lip again, this time they draw blood and you wince at the sudden stinging. 

“Shit” you groan in a hushed whisper, you curse the habit as you bring your hand to your lip, examining the damage. A drop of red colours your fingertip as you touch it to the nick and pull it away so you can see. 

You roll your eyes at your luck and rub the blood from your fingers before continuing with your walk, wishing you’d simply seen the subway through and stayed on until a stop closer to home. 

“You’re out awfully late miss” 

You just about jump out of your skin at the voice. It's eerily mechanical as though it’s meant to be disguised, under the circumstances, it sends chills up your spine. 

“Holy shit, you scared the fuck out of me” you hold your hand to your chest in an attempt to calm the beating of your heart. You turn and your eyes meet big ovals of tinted glass, adorning a red mask. It hits you that they belong to those of Spiderman and suddenly the voice makes all the sense. 

“Don’t… don’t creep up on people like that, especially not,” you pause to find the words, “unsuspecting women… alone at night” you let out awkwardly, your furrowed brows ease up as you take in a deep breath. 

He lets out a small laugh from behind the mask, head tilting to the side as he manages to lock eyes with you even though you can't quite meet his gaze.

“Sorry, sorry” he lifts his hands defensively, “just making sure you’re okay”. There's a grin evident in his voice.

“No, I’m…” you let out a breath. “I’m so sorry, it’s been a rough day”, You offer an awkward smile and silently curse yourself for being an asshole to some guy that spends his life-saving people. 

“Don’t stress,” he brushes it off. 

‘Your…”, he raises his hand to where his lips would sit behind his mask, “... lip is bleeding.”

“Shit… yeah” you mumble, bringing your own hand to your lips. You lick your fingertip and wipe both the fresh and dried blood from the cut. You suddenly wonder how silly you may have looked with a trickle of blood gathering on the rim of your lip.

“I bite ‘em… my lips, when I’m anxious” you clarify, offering another awkward smile. 

“You wanna talk about it?” he offers with a shrug, taking a step in the direction you were walking when he had first approached. 

“My lip biting?” You question furrowing your brows and following his footsteps. 

“Your day” he humours you. 

“Right,” you let out a sheepish laugh and you feel your cheeks flush. “You do that?” you question, skipping a step to keep up. 

“Do what?” he asks, his brows furrow behind the mask. 

“Give out free therapy.” Your eyes lock on the ground as the two of you walk side by side. 

He chuckles, “not often… I make exceptions.”

“I’ll walk you home, you just talk” he offers. 

You accept the offer, quite gladly. It felt strange, though nice, talking to someone as a friend without the, ‘what do they think of me’ barrier. For all you knew you’d never see Spiderman again. 

You hadn’t particularly been one for friends. Not that you hadn’t wanted them, it was rather that no one seemed to fill that hole. You’d had friends throughout middle school, some in the early stages of high school but each time you’d simply fall out of friendship, and that was that. 

It was nice to talk rather than listen.

“Then my coworker, Kaylie, she threw up all over the break room,” you rambled,

Spiderman gags at the thought, ‘Not you too’ you murmur softly, though he catches what you say and lets out a chuckle.  

Your lips press into a smile, satisfied with his laughter you continue your story.

 “My asshole of a boss made me clean it,” you emphasise, “then made me stay back and cover her shift, now it's… what” You lift the sleeve of your jacket checking the time, “10:39 pm and Spiderman, of all people, is walking me home”. You send him a small smile with a shrug. 

“Well firstly your boss sounds like a jackass” he adds, almost as if stating a fact, “but at least you got to meet Spiderman', he nudges you faintly, pulling another soft giggle from your lips. You agree with a hum and a nod, once again making eye contact with the floor.

“Oh, I got a 98 on this English test,” you add looking up at him, “so, y’know… hasn’t all been bad”. 

“Wow look at you,” his grin peaks through his voice.

‘“What can I say?” you giggle with a sheepish shrug. 

“Peter, this kid in my class,” you clarify, “has been one upping me all semester, and I have finally,” you emphasise, “gotten a better grade than him”.

‘We don’t like this Peter?” he asks, studying your face as you answer. 

You smile at his use of ‘we’. 

“He’s…” your words die on your tongue as you think for just a moment, “kind of an asshole,” you nod, “but sweet…enough” you shrug with a sweet grin and meet Spiderman’s ‘eyes’. 

“He’s funny I’ll give him that” 

Unbeknownst to you, Spiderman’s lips curl into a grin. 

“As long as he’s being nice,” he adds. 

“I don’t know if I’d say nice” you giggle. 

______________________________________________________________

“Well Spidey, this is almost me” you beam, pointing to the apartment building across the street with your head, your hands are kept inside the pockets of your jacket where the cold New York air can’t reach them. 

“Thanks for, you know… walking me home, letting me talk, I don’t really do that too often” you smile up at him, meeting his hidden eyes.

“What, you don't get to talk a lot? I doubt that” he laughs, watching as you roll your eyes. 

A soft ‘shut up,’ rolls off your tongue with a smile. Your cheeks are flushed against the crisp of the night and you feel your grin grow. 

‘I better…’ your words die on your tongue as you point to the apartment block. 

He lets out a hum of approval with a short, knowing nod. 

You take a step or two backwards, sending him a wave and a sweet smile, though forgetting to look both ways as you cross the seemingly empty road. 

Spiderman's voice rings out as you turn, faced with a fast-paced car. The owner honks its horn, sending you an angry glare as it drives past you. You quickly place your extended foot back onto the safety of the curb and send Spidey a sheepish smile. 

“You need me to carry you to bed and tuck you in?” He jokes with a shake of his head. 

“I’m good thank you,” heat rushes to your cheeks and the tips of your ears, reddening them further as you turn to look both ways. 

“That’s a good start” his voice rings from the other side of the street, watching you cross the road more safely this time around. 

You wave him off with an eye roll, not turning to look at the vigilante as you trot to your apartment complex. 

______________________________________________________________

“Is that you love?” Your mother rings out from the couch.

The apartment is dimly lit, the glow from the tv lights up your mothers features as you approach her. She sits in her pyjamas, a glass of red wine in her hand, which is expected on a friday night. ‘Dirty Dancing’ plays loudly on the TV, you’ve seen the film a million times over because it’s her favourite. 

You slide your backpack off of your shoulder, lean it carefully against the couch, and collapse down next to her. 

“Hi love,” your mothers lips press against your forehead, placing a soft kiss. 

You hum, closing your eyes. 

You feel her pull away, she replaces her lips with a hand and lets out a worried hum. 

“You’re warm” her brows furrow and you feel your blush spread further. 

You’re grateful she can’t see your flushed cheeks in the darkness of the apartment. 

“Ran home,” you simply smile with a nod, “gonna go to bed.” 

She nods, giving you a tight hug and wishing you sweet dreams. 

You let your eyes close as your head lolls against the cool of your bedroom door, taking in the stillness of your room. You begin to untie your work shoes, leaving your eyes shut as you place them neatly by the doorway. 

You let out a yawn, rub your eyes and stand up from the carpeted floor. Taking a seat on your neatly made bed, your hands find the buttons of your work blouse and slowly unbutton them one by one. 

Your mind drifts and a smile curls onto your face as you think of the sweet, masked man that had walked you home. 

You wonder about his features, the colour of his hair and skin, if his face is freckles or if he has little moles that litter his body. You wonder how old he is, if he has lived his life, seen things and loved, or if he’s young, possibly even your age. If he puts the rest of his life on the line each night he puts on the suit. You frown at the possibility. 

Your teeth once again catch your lip, tongue grazing the dried metallic blood, you wince at the taste you’ve grown familiar to. Scolding yourself softly, you make a small mental note to quit the habit before putting on pyjamas and slipping into fresh sheets. 

A soft smile adorns your face as you stare up at the ceiling, you realise you had forgotten to tell your mother about your English test, how you’d gotten the highest grade in the class, and you keep in mind to tell her over breakfast. 

Your mind slips back to Spiderman. There's an unfamiliar tug in your chest and you selfishly wish to see him again, despite how busy he may be with truly important things. You think of his gentle nature and the gut feeling, a disgusting mix of guilt and longing, spreads.

Guilt for both wishing something from a man that wasn’t fair, and for allowing yourself this wish. 

You want him to be there the next time you get a higher grade than Parker, which will hopefully be sooner than later, or the next time your coworker lets her lunch out onto the table where you sit and eat, which you pray will never happen again. 

You feels a moment of guilt for your wishful thinking before rolling over to get some sleep. 

[ivoryisking]

tim wright headcanons

The Operator’s effects on him are strong

He’s always popping pills to fight them

He plays the leader, but will always follow Brian’s advice

He’s a tank- more brawn than brain

For the most part, he’s not multi-faceted; behind the mask, he’s pretty much the same

However, that really is him blacking out, and being unresponsive to Reader is not him ignoring cries, he is unable to break out of the state on his own

The Operator has to release him, he’s mentally weak compared to the entity

He does still follow you to work and home, but mostly for security measures, and he does not take pictures and send them to you.

He’s emotionally unintelligent/constipated

That sideburn hasn’t been shaved since the beginning of time

Dadbod 24/7

He’s not stupid, he’s just not EJ and Brian smart

Gruff as hell, but not as truly icy as Brian

He loves his sarcasm though

He’s a walking cigarette

Takes his coffee black

No fucking cheesecake, you psychopath fanons. That was a jibe at calling his actor fat. 

Thinks he’s the hot shit 

Pretends he doesn’t care if people like him or not, but it bothers him on the inside

Reader has to knock his ass down a few notches

He’s triumphant as hell when he finds out Reader likes him

But then he doesn’t know how to proceed

First kiss with him will leave him lying on the floor like an idiot

Shows he cares by existing in the same room

He handles physical contact okay, he just prefers his personal bubble

He kind of sucks at comfort, but tries and succeeds most of the time, albeit awkwardly

The actor played guitar, but Tim should like it too. He wears flannel. That speaks for itself.

He’ll play angsty or angry music if he’s mad at Reader

If not, he’ll play anything and everything they request if he can

He’s a teddy bear in an grumpy old man body

the drabble that comes with it can be found on any of the platforms i use; ao3, quotev, and wattpad- linktree in my bio if you find my works anywhere else, please let me know!

[zoohouseart]

An idea of how Ed Edd n Eddy's cast may appear as adults. I wrote a bio for each one too.

Ed: Married May Kanker right out of high school, had 26 kids all named after monster movies (all of which he's VERY protective of). Spends a simple life working on tree-lifting and mine digging, bathes in gravy every night. Misses Edd and Eddy a whole, whole lot. Unfortunately doesn't see them often, since they moved further into the city while he stayed in the cul-de-sac.

Edd (Double D): Cleaned his act, got the girl, gained a master's in science and engineering, became a teacher, and yet STILL isn't happy or widely respected. Has yet to fully address his long standing anxiety of taking off his hat. Cannot let himself catch a break as he stresses daily about getting the bills paid. Wishes there was more to life than this ever-revolving door of monotony.

Eddy: Flunked out of college. Works as an errand boy for the mayor of Peach Creek and "oversees productivity". Secretly continues to feed his compulsions to scam and gamble at any chance he can get. Spends his every evening dreaming of the day where HE's the mayor, and scheming up ideas he'll never enact (unless..). Often complains that jawbreakers aren't as big as they used to be.

Nazz: Lives a bohemian life, praying someday her time to shine will glisten once more as an "influencer" but works retail in the meantime. Mooches off her fiancée Edd and tries to make up for it in emotional (and erm, well, physical) support. Is struggling with the idea that she peaked in high school, but will never admit it. Mockingly called "Double Z" by Eddy, though she doesn't mind.

Kevin: Is the mayor of Peach Creek. Won this view through pure charisma and good word as the football king of Peach Creek High and general "best at everything", but is often these days fumbling the ball on keeping the streets safe and clean. Is now friends with Eddy, or at least he likes to think so. Is sad he didn't make it into pro league, and will sulk about it when noone's looking.

Sarah: Took up the job of being a shrink (specifically in anger management), and a general town do-gooder. She's often, even if obnoxiously, asking to help others. Has really turned her life around from her loudmouthed, vicious childhood and make up for her past cruelties.. but has mostly done so just to repress her unbridled rage bubbling inside. Whatever you do, don't bring up Jimmy in front of her.

Jimmy: Sarah and Jimmy were conjoined to the hip practically forever, until the day his braces came off. Once he did, he got the call from Hollywood for his incredible acting chops, and ditched his BFF without a second thought. People often tour Peach Creek to see his hometown, much to the chagrin of everyone there. Is a real piece of work these days and could use a nice ass whooping.

Rolf: Grew to be a mighty farmer, creating a titanic cattle industry. Used his profits to buy a massive chunk of Peach Creek and turn it into "New Yergosluvia", so his old country family could live nearby. There he resides as it's king, and frequently feuds with old friend Kevin. Wears Victor's pelt in honor of his life-long servitude to a son of a shepherd (Victor passed peacefully in his sleep).

Johnny 2x4: MIA. As the Eds became more accepted, Johnny became the new misfit. One day, tragedy suddenly struck Plank in senior year of high school, and Johnny was never seen again. There's urban legends of crudely drawn faces appearing on the trees around the old cul-de-sac they grew up in. Ed swears he's seen one tree move. But that's crazy Ed for you. …Right?

May Kanker: Spends her days mostly exhausted from having to take care of 26 children, and hardly ever leaves the house. When she's not trying to drown out the kids with a cranked up TV, she's spending every other hour gossiping about occurrences across the city with her sisters.. though there's not a lot of time between that and cleaning up shit smeared on the walls.

Marie Kanker: Was expelled from Peach Creek High School for stalking Edd and threatening harm on Nazz. She now spends her days as a forum rat on doxxing related message boards, betwixt a day job of driving a garbage truck, where she mostly rides around town spying on people and scribbling down their whereabouts. She too spends all remaining hours gossiping with her sisters.

Lee Kanker: Was mid-planning on going to college and had her life all figured out to be a part of law enforcement until she was unexpectedly locked up for "illegal wood burning". She swears she was framed but has no idea who could've done it. She's usually calling her sisters, but occasionally talks with Eddy. She's not interested in him anymore; they just like to shoot the shit sometimes.

[bfpnola]

Abolition For Beginners (2023 Edition)

In honor of Tyre Nichols and all others we have lost to policing and imprisonment. In honor of Black History Month. In honor of Better Future Program's mission to educate and serve marginalized youth globally... Let's break down abolition, again. (As usual on Tumblr, tap for better quality.)

Better Future Program's Linktr.ee | Donate | Liberation Library | Open Leadership Positions | Staff Application | Discord Server

Image description below. Written by @reaux07. Proofread by the volunteers and supporters of @bfpnola.

Image Description:

[ID: All of the following slides use a wrinkled, black fabric as their background with black text (bolded red added for emphasis) on top of white boxes with rounded corners. “@bfpnola” is written in the top right corner and the sources for the slide are in the bottom left corner. 

Title Slide (No. 1):

Written in red text, “UPDATED FROM 2021 EDITION.” The outlines of the word “ABOLITION” is written line by line 8 times in light grey with the year “2023” written on top in bold, white lettering. Below, written in red within a white bubble and red arrow, it reads “FOR BEGINNERS*.” Across from the bubble, “@BFPNOLA” is in red. Below, in red again, the asterisk mentioned before leads to the following note: “This post is heavily text-based so if you do not learn best by reading, feel free to utilize our Abolition Study Guide in our bio under "Social Justice Resources" instead!” Lastly, white stars and outlines of grey circles can be seen in each corner of the slide.

Slide No. 2 reads:

Abolition is an anti-capitalist, intersectional framework that aims to not only destroy the cages created by various “industrial complexes,” but to create inclusive, effective alternatives for addressing harm. As defined by Dr. Jennie Wang-Hall, an “industrial complex (IC) is a system that creates profit through embedding into social inequities and providing an ineffective product that keeps consumers under-resourced and returning for more.”

The most common examples of such systems? Prison and policing, psychiatry, foster care/family policing, the military, and even the Family (as an institution, not kinship altogether).

Despite common misconceptions, abolition is not just a negation of what currently exists, but an active evolution of what community-based support can and has looked like. Abolition is about the radical working-class imagination, about Black and Indigenous imagination.

If individualistic, reactive, punishment-based strategies are maintained, true accountability and rehabilitation will never exist. Instead, we can choose to be proactive, analyze the circumstances that perpetuate violence, and address harm at the root! Of course, no one is saying that harm will completely cease to exist, but to paraphrase butch anarchist Lee Shevek, wouldn’t it be a profound improvement to expand our capacity to respond to harm and challenge our abusers, rather than being restricted to system-granted authority? Especially when such systems deliberately ignore the suffering of marginalized communities (e.g. people of color, queer and trans folks, women and femmes, Mad and disabled folks, and so on) to begin with?

Sources: @Dr.JennieWH, @ButchAnarchy, Stella Akua Mensah, Erin Miles Cloud, @WokeScientist

Slide No. 3 reads:

Before we continue any further, let’s destroy the myth that cops actually stop violence. First off, we can’t depend on crime stats at face value because this begs the question of who exactly gets to define what counts as a “crime” and why (e.g. drug possession and sleeping in public vs. tax evasion of the wealthy and wage theft). Continuing, crime rates often only reflect violations that have actually been reported, chosen to be shown, and deemed out of line. By this logic, crime rates are simply reflections of cops’ perceptions, not of the material and emotional realities of the proletariat (i.e. the working-class).

As for perpetuating violence, “US law enforcement killed at least 1,183 people in 2022, making it the deadliest year on record for police violence.” (And those are just the deaths that were reported. In our home state of Louisiana, turns out the Jefferson Parish Sheriff’s Office, as of January 12, 2023, has been unlawfully destroying records of officer misconduct for at least 10 years.) Many (69%) of these murders were cases in which no offense was alleged, were mental health or welfare checks, or involved traffic violations and other nonviolent offenses.

This is, of course, without even touching on the involuntary servitude (i.e. enslavement) and maltreatment ongoing in American prisons. How many more deaths must occur before the general public says enough is enough? Or is this acceptable since these are working-class, disabled, Mad, non-white, queer, and trans lives being lost?

Sources: @InterruptCrim, The Guardian, Mapping Police Violence, @VeriteNewsNola

Slide No. 4 reads:

So we agree police are harmful. Why abolition instead of reform? Historically, reforms have either provided further funding to the prison, foster care, and psychiatric industrial complexes and/or just reinforced harmful ideologies surrounding policing as a whole. And trust us, these systems already have more than enough money. In the fiscal year of 2021, at least $277,153,670,501 were spent on federal law enforcement and prisons as well as on police and prisons by state and local governments. Can you even conceptualize a number that large? We could end all American medical debt with that much money. We could even provide clean water and waste disposal to everyone on Earth!

Continuing, reforms like body cameras are pitched as making officers more accountable, that if “done right” policing will actually keep people safe, and that those who do not use excessive force are suddenly no longer guilty of perpetuating centuries worth of systemic oppression. In reality, body cameras require further funding and increase surveillance!

Similarly, civilian oversight boards and the push to “jail killer cops” reinforce the belief that cases of murder, assault, falsifying information, and so on are exceptional occurrences rather than intrinsic to the very nature of policing itself. This is where the phrase “All Cops Are Bastards” comes into play, stating that while the individual character of some officers may be morally permissible, all cops are part of a “bastardized,” or corrupt, system.

Sources: Security Policy Reform Institute, Matt Korostoff, @CriticalResistance 

Slide No. 5 reads: 

Even laws don’t prevent police violence, e.g. the murder of Eric Garner despite the NYPD passing a policy against chokeholds, or the murder of Daunte Wright despite the passing of the George Floyd Law Enforcement Trust and Integrity Act and a separate Justice in Policing Act of 2020.

Alternatively, we can advocate against the expansion of policing “responsibilities,” i.e. not allowing officers to address Mad individuals in vulnerable states, the housing crisis, or people who use drugs (PWUD). We can reroute funding into non-coercive, peer-led initiatives for harm reduction, de-escalation, first aid, and self-defense. And maybe most importantly, we can reaffirm that EXTENSIVE power can, in fact, be found amongst everyday folks like you and me!

Abolition is not a one-and-done sort of deal but rather a progression of steps toward an infinite future of improvements. The act of building parallel infrastructures and modes of governance while the previous ones still exist is known as dual power. Abolition must begin as dual power. We can start today!

And in building such, these steps cannot: legitimize or expand oppressive systems we aim to dismantle, create divisions between “deserving” and “underserving” people, preserve existing power relations, or utilize exclusionary, one-size-fits-all, standardized treatments.

Sources: @ProjectLets, @HarmReductionCoalition, CrimethInc., Survived & Punished NY

Slide No. 6 reads:

One of the main questions brought up, though, is what abolitionists plan to do in the case of homicide, rape, domestic violence, and other harms. While this is entirely valid, this question seems to imply that 1) police are already effectively responding to such harms rather than perpetuating and/or ignoring them and 2) that there is one collective abolitionist response.

For one, the majority of sexual assault, for example, goes unreported and less than 0.5% of perpetrators are incarcerated. (And this assumes that through the reporting process and incarceration, survivors will somehow find healing, perpetrators will find understanding, and that sexual assault does not continue within prisons.) Meanwhile, let’s use our hometown as one example of many, a complaint of sexual violence is filed against a New Orleans Police Department officer every 10 days and nearly 1 in 5 NOPD officers have been reported for sexual and/or intimate partner violence. 

And secondly, we have a plethora of organizations like Critical Resistance and cultures like that of the Diné (Navajo) to learn from and build upon. We don’t have to be stuck within this false dilemma fallacy, that there is only policing or total chaos. Don’t you see that that is the state’s way of constricting communal power?

Sources: @RAINN, @CopWatchNola, @WokeScientist

Slide No. 7 reads:

To expand this conversation, abolition heavily aligns with the political ideal of “anarchism.” Anarchism supports the absence of government and absolute freedom of the individual. And despite its negative connotations, anarchy also reflects an evolution of community-based care rather than just a deconstruction of what currently exists.

A simplified version of its 6 agreed-upon principles are:

Autonomy and Horizontality: define yourself on your own terms, we stand on an equal footing

Mutual Aid: bonds of solidarity form a stronger social glue than fear, support your community

Voluntary Association: associate or don't associate with whomever you wish

Direct Action: accomplish goals directly rather than depending on representatives or authorities

Revolution: overthrow those in power who enforce coercive hierarchies (ex. white supremacy)

Self-Liberation: you must be at the forefront of your own liberation, freedom must be taken

While being an abolitionist does not require alignment with anarchism, it is worth considering how the state plays such an enduring role in various social harms. Concurrently, whenever you treat other living beings with consideration and respect, come to reasonable compromise rather than coercion, and decide to share or delegate tasks, you are already living by anarchist principles.

Sources: Peter Gelderloos, David Graeber

Slide No. 8 reads:

So, how can you get involved? How do we continue the efforts already being made by activists worldwide? After such an overload of information and even more to learn, we understand how political frameworks like abolition can seem daunting, but they don't have to be! Here are some general next steps:

Read the "8toAbolition" steps.

Look into "podmapping" so you know whom to run to when you have been harmed or perpetuate harm.

See if there are any pre-existing mutual aid networks in your community, and if not, start one with your neighbors or peers!

Begin to research issues affecting communities other than your own. Abolition is intrinsically tied to all of us as we are all surveilled. For example, do you understand how prison and policing further ableism, transphobia, or the sex trade? What about policing internationally (see our allies in: the Kingdom of Hawai'i, Palestine, Artsakh, Kashmir...)?

Research the differences between capitalism, socialism, and communism. Abolition and anti-capitalism are foundational to one another as well.

Look into the other industrial complexes we named in the beginning (psychiatry, foster care, the military, the Family...).

Volunteer (remotely or in-person) with organizations like Better Future Program (@bfpnola) to both educate yourself and directly serve your community!

And if you're looking for further reading/listening, BFP offers over 3,000 FREE social justice, mental health, and academic resources in our Linktr.ee, including study guides for beginners. While we can't promise that the struggle for liberation will always be easy, BFP will always do its best to support you in whatever way we know how.

End ID.]

[horanghater]

Judgement Call

Summary: You only have 1 job: Don’t let the werewolf out of the basement.

▸ Pairing: werewolf!DK/Seokmin x F!reader

▸ Rating / Genre / AU: 18+ / pwp (smut) / established relationship, supernatural If you are a minor AND/OR if your account has no age in the bio, you will be blocked upon interacting (liking/reblogging) with this post.

▸ Warnings: breeding, a bucket of drool, biting

▸ Word Count: 1.2k

▸ A/N: This is my entry for KBCS’s Blood and Bane event! 🐺 The prompt ofc being: breeding kink. Thank you @shuadotcom for your beta services (no pun intended lol) as always!

Read more at the top because grown up words are in the first paragraph.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Dokyeom is a gentle giant with too much self control. Everything about him is oversized. Yet, the way he keeps his palm to the small of your back in public is reassuring. He holds you in your shared bed delicately, as if you’re a baby bird. He fucks you as if every thrust could break you. 

Holy shit, you wish he would break you. Just once.

You both know that he could. It’s not that Dokyeom has to set out to either; quite the opposite. Dokyeom is always holding back for fear of hurting you. 

As the days bleed together and the nights inch closer and closer to a full moon, he gets a little careless. His canines linger on the fleshy part of your thighs and the pressure teeters on painful. Long digits grip small, purple bruises into your hips. Enormous palms force your legs up to dangle your feet near your head for so long that your hips feel it in the morning.

Then, when the moon has reached its full magnificence for all to witness, Dokyeom is gone. He’s not far; just in the basement actually. You huff and roll your eyes every time your scheduled Rules meeting rolls around, but your boyfriend still insists on reviewing everything thoroughly and consistently.

The Rules:

Double-check the restraints.

Double-check the basement door lock.

Do not investigate any sounds.

Do not come to the basement for any reason before 8am.

Tonight, you exaggerate your pout as you salute him playfully on the landing of the basement stairs. You pout even harder when you step back after locking him in heavy metal wristlets chained to the floor. Dokyeom flashes his signature LED smile and sunny “love you”. It doesn’t make you any less upset about having to lock him away, but you’re forgiving enough to just go along with it.

What Dokyeom isn’t aware of is that you’re also forgiving enough to take whatever he dishes out when you head downstairs in nothing but a nightgown and a key around your neck at half past midnight.

You only make it halfway down the stairs when the chains rattle, then clang as they’re pulled taut. A cautious, deep rumble from Dokyeom’s chest cuts through the darkness. When you reach the bottom and flick the lightswitch on, he’s only a few feet from the steps – it’s as close as he can get with the cuffs on. Crimson eyes stare you down, unblinking and predatory as Dokyeom’s gaze roots you to the spot. You should be worried and you should be fearful and you should go upstairs, but when you look past his fangs and claws, there’s an unmistakable tent in his basketball shorts that makes the sensible part of your brain shut down immediately.

“Out.” Your boyfriend's voice is deeper and so much more gravelly than you would have expected. It’s as if he hasn’t spoken in eons and nearly forgot which language he speaks. 

One thing’s for sure: his tone is speaking directly to your pussy.

“Out!”

Dokyeom growls again, straining against the chains as you disrobe where you stand, skin instantly pebbling with goosebumps from the draft. His expression keeps changing in a kaleidoscope of contradicting emotions, but it’s clear which one wins out the second you dare to enter his personal bubble.

The hook of Dokyeom’s nails threatens to puncture as his fingers curl around your wrist and yank you toward him. It’s not exactly tender, but he’s reasonably careful as he lowers your down onto the blanket – the only “amenity” here, at his request – so you’re laid bare beneath him. The two of you stay frozen, Dokyeom panting above you as he scrutinizes every inch of your body. 

It’s not until your hand reaches to cup the side of his face that he lets go. He leans into the touch before mouthing your hand, leaving a trail of drool in your palm. There’s no time to complain – he’s got to be only half-listening at best, anyway – with how he’s yanked your legs apart so he can slot himself in to rut against your cunt sloppily.

Dokyeom was not small to begin with, but his bulge is noticeably bigger now. Is it harder, too? Is that possible? Yes and yes, you confirm as you (barely) manage to slide your hand between your bodies and catch the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down to expose his hips. 

A shaky, high-pitched sigh/whine lets you know how much he appreciates the gesture as he lines his tip up with your weeping entrance. Dokyeom is physically shaking as he does so, eyes screwed shut as he begins to enter as slowly as he can bear. The bliss of your heat keeps his mouth hanging open in a silent groan, letting more saliva fall from the gape like a faucet that douses the link between your bodies. 

If you’d had a chance to study his cock as it is now, there’s a good chance you would have chickened out. With your hubris and his reduced impulse control, though, you make it work. Once he’s fully inside of you, you’re only given a few seconds before he’s thrusting. Dokyeom’s cock fills you deep, deep, deeper than you’ve ever felt before. In your daydreams, you’d pictured yourself full, yet still dainty, arms above your head as you sigh with pleasure. In reality, you barely sound human yourself as you hiss and yelp beneath him while the shape of his cock projects itself in the pouch of your lower belly, clawing at his sides because he’s too wide to even get your arms around him in this form.

Dokyeom has never been shy about letting you know how good you feel, but he’s so vocal like this. You know he’s close, even without words. Grunts smooth themselves into whimpers and growls slip into the beginnings of a howl. 

You’re close too and you tell him so, but he doesn’t seem to acknowledge it at first. The way you ragdoll in Dokyeom’s grasp as he suddenly hoists you up by the waist to fuck into you harder would be comical if you could see yourself, but your eyes are too busy rolling into the back of your skull. He pins you down with his full weight, nearly taking the wind out of you as his thrusts become short and sharp. 

He rests his lips on your shoulder, breath almost searing as he murmurs, “Love you, breed you.” It’s not clear if he’s asking or telling you, honestly, but you wouldn’t be here in this moment if that mattered to you. 

Dokyeom is yours and you are his. It’s sealed when you cum on his cock and he drives into you one last time, howl muffled into your shoulder as fangs compress and then perforate your delicate skin. It should hurt and you’ll certainly need to patch yourself up later, but the pain only pushes you deeper into euphoria as he floods your pussy with hot cum. 

Just like when you started, the two of you suspend your movements, catching your breath. This is the part where you both come down together and Dokyeom pulls you into his chest lovingly. 

There’s just one little detail you didn’t consider in your excitement leading up to tonight: Werewolf Dokyeom doesn’t just want to breed you; he has to. And one session is simply not enough to get the job done.

[genericpuff]

Rachel did a live Q&A in the LO Discord server and gave some news about the Animated Series, it’s still happening! (Surprisingly) Any thoughts on that or things you’d like to see from it?

Right, like every other time she's said it's "still happening" with no evidence to actually support it. That's always been the issue and still is.

Sorry, that's not me being snarky at you, I'm more so frustrated and absolutely fucking done with all the empty promises and platitudes.

Best case scenario with what was said during the Q&A was that she said "it's still happening" (worst case was that she didn't address it at all).

Like, how is this:

"I can say that… we are currently doing work on it… and it is going well.. and that it looks really cool and that I wish everyone could see what we’ve done because it looks really really really cool, and it’s happening, but that’s all I can say at this point… I can say, making tv shows takes a really long time, it takes so long" (last night's Q&A)

Any different than this:

Any different than this:

“Um, it’s been really interesting. It’s been educational for me. So, what I—what has been done so far is beautiful. Like, if I could share it, I would. But I can’t. Because it’s very naughty.” - Girl Wonder SDCC (July 2023)

She's been saying this for the last two years since people started getting suspicious it wasn't happening in the first place, and despite all the reassurances that "it's still happening", it doesn't seem to have anything to show for itself. Cast list? Nope. Director? Nope. Writers? Nah. Just a showrunner whose bio still says "TBA" and who, despite having a whole ass 40 minute long interview with Girl Wonder, still didn't have anything to show for what's to come, just more empty promises that it's "still happening" (and a lot of banter about Stephanie's life, rather than her involvement with LO).

In fact, most of what Stephanie talks about in the podcast concerning LO is pitching it, not developing it. And this interview happened just a few months ago. Go listen to it yourself if you don't believe me.

So at this point, I see "it's still happening" as "don't panic" corporate speak for "we're still pitching it and trying to find a network for it so we can actually move onto development." Yes, animation takes a long time, even Hazbin Hotel took about three and a half years to finally release after Prime bought the rights to it in 2020. But LO, again, clearly hasn't even started the animation process yet. And while we're comparing it to Hazbin, note that HH actually had LOADS to show for itself along the way of being developed and did a much, MUCH better job at staying relevant and pulling in new people and hyping it up. Even people who never watched Hazbin before in its indie days on Youtube were hearing about it, it made an active effort to sell itself to new viewers and break out of its bubble on Youtube. Is LO doing that? No, not really. Most of the people who know about it are diehard fans who refuse to read anything that isn't shown directly to them on Webtoons, and diehard haters who are tired of the garbage that gets advertised on Webtoons. Ask anyone who doesn't use Webtoons, and best case, they'll know someone who reads LO, worst case, they won't even know what a webtoon is.

Shit, even the new upcoming Zelda movie has names attached to it, including Avi Arad, Wes Ball, and Derek Connolly. And my god, it's gonna SUCK DICK with that bad of a line-up (the guy who ruined the OG Spiderman trilogy and created Morbius, the guy who directed the Maze Runner films, and one of the leading storywriters behind Rise of Skywalker, fucking YIKES) but hey, at least it has more than one name attached to it.

But okay, if we're gonna play the comparison game, let's be fair and compare LO to some other works in its own lane. Let's Play announced last year that it would be getting an animated adaption, and it already has a studio backing it that is FAR more suited for it than JHC is to LO - OLM, the same studio whose animated for massive franchises like Pokemon, Yo-Kai, and Gudetama. JHC meanwhile has animated... motion capture kid shows like Word Party. Because that's the only kind of animation they actually specialize in when it comes to their in-house services. Sure, they also have Harriet the Spy, but that wasn't animated by them, that was animated by Titmouse Inc (heh sorry).

I'm the Grim Reaper recently had its own animated adaption announced, and who's in charge of it? Oh, only SAM FUCKING RAIMI-

And look, maybe the Let's Play and I'm the Grim Reaper adaptions won't happen either. I just think it's ironic that they both have more to show for themselves in terms of credible names attached to them than what LO has managed to scrape up after five years of promising that it's "still happening" (especially when one of those series is nowhere near as big as LO and the one that WAS as big as LO walked away from Webtoons entirely). For Webtoons' own "worldwide phenomenon", they sure have given LO the shit end of the stick by pairing it with a family-with-kids-under-10 production studio that doesn't specialize in animation and a showrunner who got her start with the Cosmopolitan (weird how LO has so many plugs with Cosmo, huh? Why is JHC producing the show again?)

At the end of the day, nothing's changed. It's still just the ole' "it's still happening" record on a loop, while the comic itself falls further out of favor with people. And it's likely gonna be going behind DailyPass soon, so just think about what that's gonna do to its relevancy after it gets sent away to the equivalent of the Webtoons graveyard.

As I've said countless times before every time this topic comes up, at best, if it is still happening, and I'm wrong about all of this, they are doing the worst job I've ever seen at hyping people up and keeping them informed. It is NOT a good thing that people have to keep asking Rachel if it's still happening.

As for worst case... you wanna know what other projects come to my mind that have fallen into the same state of development hell and decay as LO's TV show? YandereSim and Cryamore. What do you think the popular opinion is about those works and their creators now? Because if you don't know either of those names and are about to google them, let me give you a heads up warning - it's not positive.

If it happens, it happens. It will hopefully be before I get all the therapy I need to undo what LO has done to my brain so that I don't have to make repeat visits LOL But if it's after, hey, maybe the show will be good! Assuming Rachel doesn't, y'know, E.L. James the whole thing. Because frankly, the show will need to cut and rework a LOT of stuff to be any good IMO and I don't think that will be possible if Rachel gets directly involved. But I'm not even hoping for that scenario because there's literally NOTHING to give me that hope, "it's still happening" is nothing more than "don't panic" corporate speak to me at this point. It's cynical, but I just can't waste my energy caring about it anymore.

[kairiscorner]

my art teacher and last year bio teacher inspired me to do this (and ofc @binibinileonara did too, as always <333)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

miguel o'hara x gn!reader (teacher au)

hunched over at his desk, busy checking and encircling items quickly with his red pen as his hazel brown eyes scanned the page for the answers written by the students in all kinds of handwriting. he sighed as he shook his head, the test he gave the students were probably way too hard... or these kids were always lying whenever he'd ask them if they understood what he was saying.

"what are these kids even putting on the blanks spaces? i'm surprised their brains are better teachers than me–coming up with their own answers..." he muttered under his breath as he kept encircling the answers on one whole page for this one student's paper. as he felt his eyes drooping from the fatigue he got from the amount of incorrect answers he had to correct, he also felt a light tap on his shoulder. he turned his head wearily to look at the one who tapped his shoulder, coming face to face with your beaming face. "oh, miguel, you okay?" you asked him with a gentle voice as miguel nodded, groaning slightly under his breath as he did; he was okay physically, but emotionally, he was incredibly dejected and disappointed by his students' performance in his tests.

"lemme guess, your students breezed through your quizzes again?" you asked him with a sympathetic grin as miguel nodded weakly again. "they can't even bring themselves to put out any effort for my sake. i spend countless hours being wide awake at 2 AM, triple checking my quizzes to make sure it's just right for them–not too easy that i'll get questioned by the admins if i'm taking my job seriously, but not too hard that they're plotting to give me a bad rating for the evaluation to get back at me. it's... so difficult." he said with a sigh as he shook his head, trying to shake the sleepiness from his all-nighters away. you placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, hoping that you could help him in any way–you and miguel were in different departments, with you being an elementary art teacher and him being a high school biology teacher.

it was much easier for you since the kids in your class were very fond of your bright, bubbly personality and your open-mindedness when it came to art; the kids assigned to you were also very obedient and would strive hard to impress you, to make you proud. meanwhile, miguel's class was harder to manage since he was dealing with hormonal teenagers that think they know everything they've doing. you pitied him so badly, the kids he was handling were seriously not gonna give him a break and at least make his job a bit easier by listening. "sorry, mig..." "it's fine, it's fine, i'll... test them again this week. that extra unscheduled quiz and printing costs will come out of my paycheck, sure, but i need to make sure they understand what i'm saying." he said with a sigh as you moved your chair closer to him.

you placed your hand over miguel's that was clutching the red pen and lightly gripped it. he looked up at you in response to your touch and widened his eyes at the fact you were touching him. "what?" he asked you with a quizzical look in his eyes, reflecting the bright, beaming shine in your own eyes. "if you ever need any help with these kids, ever need someone to listen to you, i'm here for you, miggy–from one teacher to another." you said with a sweet smile, which made miguel's face contort into one of surprise. his face heated up at your kind words, with him nodding hurriedly and facing away from you–his face growing ever more flustered as he dwelled on your words. "um... thank you, a lot." he said with a hushed, flustered voice.

"i know a few therapeutic art techniques, i'm gonna teach the students about that for the next few weeks–wanna try them with me?" you asked him, hoping he'd agree. surprisingly, your hopeful wish was heard and granted–miguel looked at you, and with a slight, bashful grin, he told you, "sure. i haven't done anything creative for... a good long while in my life. it might just help with the stress and migraines i've been getting lately. um, hit me up? if you're, y'know, gonna start. that is what they say nowadays, right? 'hit me up'?" he asked you awkwardly as your stifled laugh when he said those three words exploded into peals of laughter at him being confused about gen z jargon.

miguel chuckled slightly to himself at his little blunder, but his chuckle of embarrassment then became one of fluster as you offered to help him check the heaps of test papers he had piled up. miguel didn't know what he did to deserve such a sweet, caring friend like you–with more patience than he could ever muster in his whole lifetime. if you would have him, maybe... he could take you out sometime and help you forget about computing grades and checking papers for one night?

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @luvstarrstruck @melovetitties @arachnoia @ophanimgold @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @simsrandomstuff @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok

[moongothic]

You know. If Crocodad Real. How would Luffy even react if he found out. Like really, how the fuck would he feel about it.

'Cause like how I went over in this post (briefly at the end), we don't even know how Luffy feels about Crocodile as he is right now, so can you imagine how that bombshell would impact things

Like my running theory is that Luffy still hates Crocodile but maybe not quite as much as pre-Impel Down since he kiiinda owes him etc

And Luffy does not seem to give a shit about blood connections, at least not that much. Like don't get me wrong, Luffy's family are the people who were there for him when he was a child, those are the people he cares about and his bio-parents don't really matter. But also, honestly, I think the reason Luffy doesn't give a shit about who his parents are is because he doesn't know them. Luffy cares about people who he knows and likes, and while he doesn't give a shit about Dragon right now, it's arguably because he simply just doesn't know him. If the two actually get to meet and know each other, like if Luffy takes a liking Dragon, he'll probably accept Dragon as his dad and as his family. But on his own terms. It's up to Luffy to decide

And that's why like. How would Luffy react to finding out he has another dad and that one is fucking Crocodile. Because he already hates the man. It would not be happy news for him I'm sure

The other thing is that normally Luffy does not give a flying fuck about people's sad backstories. He didn't care to hear what happened to Nami and her village for example, because what really mattered was that there was a person he cared about who was deeply hurt and in danger and he wanted to help said person. And that's where I'm so torn. Because on one hand, it would be perfectly on-brand for Luffy to not give a shit of Crocodile had a sob story to tell. But also, I could imagine Luffy being so fucking confused over the news that he'd want to hear the truth of like, who what where how why, in detail. So that, you know, he could make his own decision and figure out if he wants to considder Crocodile is other dad or disown him.

Like, both feel like things Luffy would do

So really, would the real deciding factor might be just... the circumstances where Luffy finds out???

God knows, I can not imagine Crocodile himself telling Luffy anything ever. The kid already hates him, he knows it, so he'd probably think it'd be for the best if Luffy never found out

So how else could Luffy find out then?

As far as we know, the only other person who could confirm it would be Dragon himself, and considdering how he probably feels about his ex (see: Alabasta Coup Attempt), I can't imagine him wanting to talk about Crocodile to Luffy in lenght or in a positive light. Like I can't imagine Dragon wanting to tell Luffy at all is the point, not unless he wanted to like apologize to Luffy because it is arguably his fault Luffy and Crocodile fought in Alabasta to near-death to begin with. (Sidenote since we don't know how the break-up happened to begin with, it's totally possible Crocodile could've asked Dragon to never let their kid find out what happened to his "mom")

And now, this is where I'm gonna go completely off the rails, but. As I was wondering if there was any other way Luffy could find out...

S-Croc is made with Crocodile's DNA.

(And actually before I even go into S-Croc, super quick sidenote: If Kuma can extract memories out of people and allow other people to literally see them... Like I can't tell if Kuma's memories got absorbed by Bonney when she looked into them or if Kuma's Memory Bubble is still on Egghead, but if viewing the memories isn't the same as having them inserted into a vessel permanently... Like if Kuma isn't turbo-dead, could there be a scenario where we have Kuma (or S-Bear) yeet out Croc's memories and have Luffy just look into them? Because god knows Crocodile might just refuse to speak about it and that could be the only way to get The Whole Truth if Dragon doesn't want to talk about it either?) (Of course, Crocodile would understand just How Persistent Luffy is so if Luffy just kept on annoying him about it, Crocodile could maybe give up eventually because he knows he can't get Luffy to piss off until he spills the beans)

So currently the Strawhat's plan is for them to go and escort the Vegapunks to Elbaf (if nothing goes funny after the flashback is over, which remains to be seen)

2. There is the mystery of what sex S-Croc is going to be, because there is a possibility that if Crocodile is trans then his Seraphim could be pre-T (though this entirely depends on whether or not Ivankov's HRT changes even the DNA of person. Since it's MAGIC HRT I would prefer it to, not gonna lie, and I would not appreciate any "you may look different but your DNA will tell the truth!" rhetoric in the story but I may be asking too much from Oda)

3. And there's also the mystery of what Devil Fruit ability S-Croc might have, since all the Seraphim have been given Fruit powers, and we know Vegapunk can't replicate Crocodile's Sand Logia.

All things considdered, I think the actual, most likely known ability S-Croc might end up with would be like, Mr 3's wax powers (hilariously), mainly because I could imagine it being flexible enough to work in Crocodile's fighting style, so it'd be the easiest for S-Croc to adapt to (like if you can make anything from wax, then why not sharp blades to fling at people) (Also we know Vegapunk would have access to this power since Mr 3 was in Impel Down, when they also got Daz' powers)

But also I had joked before how it'd be funny if S-Croc was a Crocodile Zoan for no reason. Like it'd be fitting since Crocodile was already the Only Logia of the OG Shichibukai, so making his Seraphim the Only Zoan would be funny as hell (if it's even possible, which we can't say if it will/won't be). Additionally, making him a Crocodile Zoan would be hysterically on-the-nose.

(Sidenote: If there was a crocodile Zoan Fruit, what sub-category do you think it'd fall into? Like would it be Ryu Ryu like all the dinosaur-themed Zoans are, or maybe even a different model of Uo Uo (same as Kaidou)? Since "wani" could be considdered a different type of serpent-dragon, and if Vegapunk was researching how to recreate Kaidou's fruit, it's plausible he might've accidentally recreated some other related-fruit in the process or afterwards?? (Also since Kaidou's Uo Uo is a specific model (Seiryu) it would make sense if there was another Uo Uo model Fruit, and this could be an excelent opportunity to use it))

The thing about Zoans though is that, as it's been brought up once or twice before, Zoan fruits can kind of have a "mind of their own" and influence the user in unexpected ways.

And as all we Crocodad Truthers know.

Crocodiles are protective of their babies.

ALSO: The Seraphim do have enough personal will-power that they may (slightly) disobey orders they've been given. Case-and-point, S-Snake undoing the Petrification on the Strawhats after Luffy asked her to, since S-Snake is fond of Luffy just like Hancock is

Sidenote, it was kind of made a point how Vegapunk considdered his artificial replica of Kaidou's dragon fruit a compete failure simply because instead of a blue dragon, the user would turn into a pink one instead. So if Vegapunk tried to make a Seraphim of Crocodile, knowing full-well he couldn't even give the Seraphim the same ability as the OG, and then the Seraphim turns out the wrong sex for no reason?? I could see him being confused as hell and considder S-Croc "a failed Seraphim"

So really, all we'd really need to happen would be for the Strawhats to somehow encounter the remaining three Seraphim while escorting the Vegapunks to Elbaf. Mind you, IDK how that could even happen since as far as we know they've been deployed the Emptee Bluffs

And then just have S-Croc either disobey orders to hunt Luffy or even even have him be protective of Luffy (following that Zoan Instinct, one even he can't explain, it's just Instinct). Have Sanji be like "hey why the fuck is this one a girl, isn't it supposed to be Crocodile", followed by Vegapunk explaining this Seraphim was a failure for reasons even he can't understand

Then have Jinbei remember the conversation Crocodile and Ivankov had at Impel Down (suspicious considdering Ivankov's abilities and this "failed Seraphim"), and maybe if Crocodile had any involvement with the Revolutionaries and Robin was suspicious of him she could even bring that up

Along with any other minor details that may be bothering the crew about the whole deal

And so if the Strawhats and Vegapunk just put all their braincells together and rubbed them real hard, they could maybe come to a hypothesis as to why S-Croc is a "failure" and protective of Luffy, and maybe even a potential explanation as to why The Real Crocodile was protective of Luffy in Marineford for no fucking reason

And maybe, just maybe, Vegapunk could confirm that suspicion with a DNA test. All he needs to do is check Luffy's and compare it to Crocodile's.

Not sure Luffy would want to do the DNA test, like knowing Luffy he might prefer to just ask Crocodile in person if they ever ran to each other again

But boy, if he somehow did agree to a DNA test, and there was a match... oh boy

But again. This entire scenario is BEYOND off-the-rails. Technically plausible! But honestly if Luffy is ever gonna find out (assuming Crocodad Real) then it's gonna be from Dragon

I just wanted to get the theoretical scenario out of my system okay, I had to get the brainworms out of my brain

[eveistdiepommes]

Classes Start ! SideTrack A !

Hellloooooo everyone! I’m back with more college au! Omg omg, okay, I had so much fun with these designs and coming up with the majors! So! Welcome to SideTrack A! SideTrack drawings and chapters will be sprinkled in amongst the main character art and chapters! This is the first SideTrack, but I have a couple others in mind (Mostly the Nordics, which I hint at :3) Welcome our newest additions!

(Character bios and info below, as usual! :D)

Who has time for gender when you’re this smart? Feliks Łukasiewicz is a bonafide genius, their pink, glittery clothes might just distract you from that fact! Feliks is beyond talkative, they love chatting about anything and everything and anyone and everyone! They basically got this friend group together, albeit very pushy-ily and stubbornly. They can be pretty demanding, pretty bossy, and maybe even pretty arrogant, but that’s mostly for show! Their brain is constantly moving, constantly thinking, and if they had to be left alone with ruminating thoughts, they’d surely get overwhelmed! Feliks is incredibly kind at their core, they’ve just built up a lot of layers of self importance for safety.

And Toris didn’t even mean to break through those layers! Toris is a straight A, top of the top student! He keeps to himself, he greets people with a polite smile and tilt of the head, he is mild and generally unnoticed. Well… he was… Feliks attached themself to Toris. They share many classes together, and one day, in a whirlwind of pink hoodie and fragrant body spray, Feliks declared they were friends! Neither of them expected to actually develop feelings for each other. Feliks had initially approached Toris because he seemed lonely (and he needed to loosen up) and Toris stuck around because, well, he was lonely. But, the closer they got, the closer Toris got to Feliks’ core, Toris felt bubbling adoration. And to Feliks’ surprise, Toris was the one who confessed first, which really really really meant a lot to Feliks!

The two are a couple, one people wouldn’t expect! Feliks is loud and flashy, Toris is introverted and seemingly always nervous. But they both swell with pride knowing they know each other’s true colors. Toris hushes Feliks’ anxious and fearful thoughts, Feliks cherishes Toris’ strength and secretly fiery nature. Together, they are an odd display of opposites attract!

Dimitri is used to just getting by in life. He doesn’t ask for much, and he doesn’t want to! He’s a sweet guy who just wants to do his best and expects nothing in return! Okay well… maybe he wants a little something in return! But not much! Dimitri has dreams of attending the World Academy, but thanks to his financial and family background, he isn’t exactly an immediate candidate. So! He works at the frozen yogurt place in the mall to raise money! He and his coworker, Natalya have grown quite close, and thanks to her help, he gets to understand what to expect from the world academy! The only thing about being so close, however… is that Natalya is quite involved with Dimitri’s interest in a frequent customer…

Mihai frequents the mall constantly! He loves anything dark and gloomy, which explains why he’s friends with Natalya! Mihai, like his best friend, has a very eccentric fashion sense, 2000s scene and emo inspired! Despite his dark looks, however, he is the brightest and warmest person! He’s always smiling, always so happy looking! He honestly didn’t even want frozen yogurt the first day he went up to the counter, he just figured he’d get something since Natalya could give him a discount! But… when he got up to the counter and saw an incredibly handsome guy with dark hair and pretty eyes ready to take his order, it was hard to contain his excitement! Ever since then, whenever he’s at the mall, he gets frozen yogurt! And he’ll never get sick of it!!

Little do both of these dorks know, Natalya is playing matchmaker behind the scenes. She purposely goes on break when she sees Mihai approaching (and Dimitri is starting to catch on), she drops hints that Dimitri is interested in Mihai when they are in class together, and she might perform a spell or two just to make sure her efforts are not wasted. She had frequently spent her life worrying about love for herself, but once she met her… everything fell into place. Natalya is devoted to both her girlfriend and her friends, hoping to bring them all happiness in her own, eccentric way. Many are scared of Natalya, rumors surround her because of her dark and off color remarks, but she is the sweetest and most thoughtful person. Just don’t end up on her bad side. She could get away with murder!

[star-girl69]

Hi, I love your work! Your Jake x Reader x Neytiri is a master peace!! I was wondering if I could request a polly Jake x Reader x Neytiri where Neteyam is still a baby and reader is so scared to screw up because she’s not bio mom like Neytiri but is obviously very active in his life as a third parent and Jake and Neytiri reassure her that she’s doing a good job. If you don’t want to write it I totally understand I know it’s kinda of a weird request but if you do write it thank you so much!!! Again I love your writing have a good day/night. 💜

Nothing to Him

Jake Sully x Neytiri x Fem!Reader

a/n: sorry this took me forever to get out! this is kinda shit but i hope you all enjoy!!

warning: insecurity, mentions of pregnancy, crying, hurt/comfort, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

Neytiri knows what each of Neteyam’s cries mean.

She is the only one who can decipher them, like they’re some unknown puzzle, and only she has the pieces.

And here you are, perfectly capable- in theory- and yet you don’t know. They all sound the same to you. Sure, the volume changes, and sometimes he is simply screaming more than crying, but still- you don’t know what it means.

But Neytiri knows.

Neytiri carried him, Neytiri gave birth to him. He carrie’s Jake’s genes in him, and he carries nothing from you. You are simply there, not even in the body you were born in.

You feel like an imposter. Like you are simply there, simply a placeholder until something better comes along. You are nothing to Neteyam.

—-

“Come, Y/N,” Neytiri says, slinging a bag over her shoulder.

“Where?” you frown, looking up from the fruit you’re cutting.

She rolls her eyes. “The river? To give Neteyam a bath?” She smiles kindly at you, holds her hand out for you to take- but Jake is already at the threshold of your tent, cooing down at Neteyam in his arms.

“N-no,” you say suddenly. “You guys go- I’m kinda tired.”

“Oh. Okay,” you ignore Neytiri’s frown, her lingering. She wants you to change your mind, you realize, to come with them. But you won’t.

They are simply so happy together, so perfect, so meant for each other, you can’t ruin their perfect little bubble. It would be cruel of you, no?

Besides, you don’t know his cries, he prefers Neytiri and Jake over you. He would probably squirm so much in your grip you would drop him.

That is what being a good mother is, you rationalize. Doing what’s best for your child. And you are not best for Neteyam.

—-

“Why did she not come?”

Leaves crunch under their feet, like bones, like hearts. And that’s what Neytiri’s heart is doing- breaking.

Slowly, at least. Not in half, or anything. Just slowly chipping away, piece by piece, moment by moment.

“What do you mean?” Jake shoots her a look, fingers of Neteyam’s tummy, making him squirm. “She said she was tired?”

“Yes…”

He smiles, chuckles a little. “Then she’s tired, my love.”

“This is only the third bath we have given him,” Neytiri argues, the water now in sight. “This is special. She should be here.”

She has to look away when Jake places a hand on her shoulder, understanding in his eyes, softness in his touch.

“There will be more,” he whispers.

She nods, but she doesn’t believe him.

She knows the world turns fast, that there is an end to each day, an eclipse. She knows that time is never promised. And she knows that her Y/N wouldn’t miss this. They had talked so much when she was pregnant, everything they would do, how much Neteyam would be loved.

And then he comes, perfect and sweet, and she pulls away? Neytiri doesn’t believe that she is just tired. Neytiri knows her Y/N, Sees her, loves her. And she knows this isn’t her.

—-

Neytiri’s eyes flick from between the baby in her arms to the boiling pot over the fire.

She could ask Y/N to stir it, but she wants her to know that Neteyam is as much hers as he is Neytiri’s.

“Can you hold him?” she whispers, shifting the sweet boy in her arms, forcing Y/N to put down the beads in her hands.

“Oh-”

But Neytiri will not take no for an answer- Neytiri will see her family together, happy and loving.

“It’s alright,” she whispers, to the both of them maybe, but she sees the stiffness in Y/N, the unsureness. She still holds Neteyam perfectly, holds him like a mother should. And she is a mother, and she does.

But it simply seems like- like she does not want to hold him. Like she is scared of it.

“You saw that,” Neytiri hisses.

Jake meets her eyes, slowly flicking from her to Y/N.

“Yeah, but-”

“No. No, something is wrong.”

He sighs. “I… uh, yeah. Yeah, there is.”

—-

“Something is wrong.”

Their bed has felt like this for a few weeks, cold, like something is taking up the extra space and expanding, pushing them apart.

Your back is pressed against Jake’s side, limp and cold, even though he is so warm.

It is Neytiri who speaks, hand reaching over to your shoulder, while Jake’s arm curls above your head on the bed, preventing you from shifting, from trying to get away.

You paint on a smile, even though they can’t see it. It’s for you, you to force yourself to pretend it’s all fine.

You have this fantasy that maybe you can simply fade away, let them be the perfect family. You are the black sheep, the odd one out. You are nothing to Neteyam- even when you think he is so sweet, so perfect. And that is why you have to pull away- so he can stay sweet and perfect. You’ll only mess him up.

“What do you mean?”

“You.” Her hand squeezes. “You have been… off. What is wrong, my Y/N?”

Your heart squeezes, a million warning signs going off in your mind, alarms blaring. “Nothing,” you hum, pretending to yawn. “I’m tired-”

“Don’t lie,” she pleads, and you still love her, of course you do, so the emotion in her voice makes your heart squeeze again.

“I- I’m not.”

“My Y/N…” she sighs, fingers digging until she’s tugging you onto your other side.

“It’s nothing!” you say and shrug her off, perhaps a little too loud, because Neteyam stirs from his sleeping nest a few paces away. The three of you let out a breath when he stays asleep. “Sorry,” you mutter, feeling horrible and horrible and more like nothing to him.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Jake whispers, and his hand curls to brush the top of your head. “Tell us what’s wrong, babygirl,”

And you do love them, you love them so much, and hearing them call you theirs, hearing them call you such sweet names, their skin soft on yours. You fell for them and you fell hard, you fell that consuming and reckless way. Like you threw yourself off of something, with only the chance of water below.

But you had fallen and you had fallen good, into their arms, into their lives, and you thanked Eywa and whatever force was out there for it everyday.

But- they were so happy, so perfect together. Everything you had ever dreamed of, the three of them, happy and loving. It was right in front of you and it hurt not to be apart of it.

But you didn’t know what Neteyam’s cries mean. You didn’t carry him. He has nothing from you.

You are nothing to him.

But for this one moment, maybe they do still love you-

“I’m nothing to him,” you say, and you faintly realize you’re crying. “I’m nothing to him.”

“Oh, my Y/N,” Neytiri croons, helping you to rollover.

“Let it out, baby, let it out,” Jake whispers, letting you muffle your cries into his chest. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?”

“I’m nothing to him,” you say again, louder this time, clearer, so they can hear you.

“To who?” Neytiri asks, hand in your hair.

“Neteyam,” you breathe, his name like a promise, like a prayer. A wisp of something you’ll never know. “I’m nothing to Neteyam,”

Neytiri’s hand stops, and Jake stiffens underneath you, and your mind races, and you pull yourself up.

Wiping the tears off your face roughly, “I’m sorry. Sorry, sorry. I’ll-”

“No.” Neytiri says, grabbing your hand, tugging it to her lips. “You’re his mother. Why-”

You scoff, disgust in your throat, something hard in your heart.

“No. I did nothing for him- I didn’t carry him, not like you, he carries nothing from me-”

“That shit doesn’t matter,” Jake says, grabbing you by your biceps, shaking you when you can’t look him in the eyes. “Look at me. That doesn’t matter- it doesn’t. You’re ours, our mate, and that is our son. All of us- that’s our son.”

“But-”

“Blood doesn’t matter,” Neytiri whispers. “He will grow up, and he will know you as a mother. That what he will carry with him- your love. And that is what matters, isn’t it?”

You shake your head, and Neytiri sighs, moving away from you while Jake tries to tilt your chin up, until Neytiri’s hand is at your shoulder again.

“Take him,” she whispers, shoving him into your arms while you cry and try to refuse- “It’s okay, it’s okay,”

And you have to screw your eyes shut, pretend it’s not happening, terrified he’ll squirm away or fall out of your arms. Just terrified you’re not good enough.

Suddenly, there’s silence, and Jake’s hands on your face, forcing your chin to your chest, to look down-

“Open your eyes, my Y/N” Neytiri whispers, hands over yours on Neteyam, warm and comforting, lips by your ear.

And you do, because you love them, and Neteyam looks up at you blankly, eyes open, hand reaching out to your face.

“Look,” Neytiri says, soft, so only the three of you can hear. “He’s reaching for you,”

“He’s reaching for you,” Jake agrees, and you nod.

“He’s reaching for me.”

—-

[rogersideup]

Nice to be Kneaded

Chapter eleven

Courage

Series masterlist

Previous Part: The Snap Next Part: Homecoming

Word Count: 5,845

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. Mentions of loss, abuse, PTSD, anxiety and depression.

Steve was enraged.

Even after Thanos dusted away half of all living things, blipping away half of all of his loved ones he still didn't feel quite this angry.

He was pretty sure that if he was an animated character, his skin would be firetruck red with puffs of dark grey smoke blowing out of his ears. There would be squiggly black marks around his feet as they quickly stomped across the compound showing how the force of his steps rattled the ground with every stride, effectively and dramatically carrying him to exactly where he needed to be.

The second Steve opened his mouth, the words in the white speech bubble above his head would be replaced by numbers, punctuation marks and octothorps. He had nothing nice to say, and his voice would only come out at one volume until he got exactly what he wanted. Loud.

This anger all started the second his phone dedicated to you rang and he was met with chaos and clinking gun metal on the other line. He heard the familiar clicks of handcuffs, he heard your cries and the questions you were asking out of fear.

He heard the way you weren't read your Miranda Rights, he could tell they had wrongly used force and pulled weapons on you. He didn't even know who they were at first.

So he enlisted the help of Natasha, one of the only other people living at the compound with him at the moment that was available to help him track you down. It took a few days, and every passing moment made him feel sick to his stomach knowing every minute he didn't know how to help you was a minute you were in the custody of some branch of government that was obviously in some sort of power trip.

On the morning of day three of the search, Nat peeled herself away from the laptop for a little while to take a shower and properly get ready for the day right after Steve did, then she came rushing back into the private sector office area with a spring in her step.

"Rogers, you're never going to believe who I just found." She declared with urgency. Steve's head popped up, eyes wide and hopeful. "Just passed by intake, they were booking her."

"Like... HERE?!" Steve questioned, jumping out of his seat faster than she could even answer the question.

"Yeah, literally downstairs." She followed his fast steps down the corridors.

"You're telling me shield agents were the ones who did that to her?" He asked again, smoke building up in his head.

"Go easy on em' Cap, you know they're just following orders." Nat tried to ease his anger. "You know they had to respond to a report."

"They didn't have to respond with a bigger crime than the one she committed in the first place." He puffed, stomps growing louder, fists wound tightly.

By the time he made it to intake, he slammed the door open with enough force to make everyone in the lobby jump out of their own skin. Natasha was surprised it managed to stay on the hinges.

His voice projected loudly, bouncing off each starkly white wall, booming enough to break the florescent lightbulbs above head.

Nat approached the front desk and tapped her nails against the wood, letting her head rest in her hand while she waited for Steve to be done yelling at everyone around him so she could talk some actual legal sense into these imbeciles.

To her surprise, Steve was actually making really good points, using really big words, and his knowledge on the legal side of what was actually here lined up. Which made her job easier in turn, but she was ready to bargain for you nonetheless.

Fourty five minutes.

That's how long it took for Steve to chew out everyone directly involved in the whole ordeal. Every detail he got out of the circumstance in which you were detained made him progressively more and more angry.

Natasha did eventually take over after those forty five minutes and used every detail she just learned, every broken rule in the sun and threw it right back in their faces. Jobs we're lost, livelihoods we're threatened, and a chain reaction was sure to ensue the moment they got their hands on some help from Rhodey.

He vowed to help start an investigation on the corrupt agents that did that to you.

Once Steve ensured you were free to go with a complete scrubbed criminal record including that one speeding ticket you got for going 35 in a 25 zone, he calmed down to a more reasonable state of being.

The smoke from his ears was now nothing but red in his cheeks with little white diagonal lines emphasizing the crease in his angry brow.

Steve and Nat sat heavy in seats like stone while they continued on further. The government needed to make up for what they did to you, and quite honestly, they owe you one for keeping one of its greatest protectors safe for so long in the first place.

At the hour and a half mark, a deal came into agreement, and Steve was squirming in his seat to go and rescue you from the holding room he knew you were locked up in.

It was so hard for him to know you were just down the hall and not be able to go sweep you off your feet and try to put a bandage over the damage he had inadvertently caused you.

This was his fault. And his own mind made sure to remind him of that over and over and over again.

If it weren't for his lack of control around you, you would've been innocent and happy baking cookies and living a life in which none of this was ever even a possibility for you. The least he could've done was be an advocate for your innocence, and get you home.

What he didn't stop to consider was that you were absolutely terrified. Actually, terrified could only describe the surface level of emotions you were feeling.

It had been three days since any of your needs were met all the while being manipulated by people much more powerful than you, and triggered by the behaviors of the men who had you in custody.

You didn't even know where you were, not the building, not the city, not the state. You hadn't eaten anything the entire time you were in custody, and anytime you even tried to sip on water, you couldn't hold back your sobs long enough to choke it down.

There was a lot of time to process your arrest. It was the first time in your life you had even seen a gun in person, let alone have 6 fully automatic weapons pointed directly at you all at once. Harsh hand prints were bruised onto your shoulders, waist, and all over your arms. Your knees were bruised and scraped, your entire face hurt from crying for so long, your back was thrown out, and you were just exhausted.

Along side not eating or drinking, you also weren't sleeping much. It was taking a physical toll on your body.

You also had time to ponder if your time with Steve was worth all of this, because when it all started you thought you were facing county jail and a fine. Not being abducted by the government and starved. You determined that he was worth every star in the sky, and you'd put up with this for as long as your body would allow it to.

But you couldn't deny that the time and distance apart from him was making you feel as though you were so tiny and insignificant in the world he lived in. And if he was out there somewhere, you doubted that you even took up space in his mind anymore. So much of your life had changed since he left, and every day you feel further and further from that girl he loved once upon a time, and all things considered, you were just you.

He wasn't just him. He was a superhero, a role model, a life saver, a war fighter. If your life had significantly changed for you as an every day civilian, you could only imagine he also felt like a whole different person than the man you loved too. He was on the front line, and you were in the very back line.

It wasn't his fault that you felt so far away from him, honestly, it was probably yours. Pushing yourself further and further away from the truth that losing him in your daily life had led you towards so much pain.

You were quite literally at your lowest, hungry and crying on the floor of a temporary cell you were pretty sure was just supposed to be an interrogation room.

There was a table and a chair in there, but you didn't feel safe enough to even sit in the stainless steel trap. You stayed curled up in the corner, desperately trying to stay awake. Jumping at every sound, flinching at every passing footstep, uncontrollably crying at every agent who came in to talk to you.

Every once in a while there would be hours in between anyone coming to check on your state of being, and you'd convince yourself it was better that way. Anything was better than being transported and man handled again.

No matter how scared you were, at some point your body completely shut down and forced your mind to sleep, only to be woken up hours later by a slam so loud it shook the ground and yelling you could hear loud and clear through the door.

The anger and volume in which the shouting happened caused your whole body to tremble like a chihuahua in one of those sad shelter commercials.

Convincing yourself to just breathe through the fear, you were able to pick up a few phrases that made you stop thinking about everything but those words entirely.

"My criminal record was fully scrubbed, there's no reason for her to be punished for anything she did. It doesn't matter anymore."

"You guys are treating her like she killed people, all she did was treat me kindly"

"Lay your hands on her one more time and I swear on everything that I'll bust her out of there and never come back."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing, and you didn't want to believe what your gut was telling you. And if it was who you thought it was, you never imagined you'd hear him shouting like that.

Not wanting to believe either of those possibilities were true, not wanting to get your hopes up or become even more hurt, you covered your ears with your cuffed hands and hid your face in your injured knees.

When the time came and an agent placed the key to your cuffs into Steve's palm, he started walking towards your holding room faster that he's ever walked before. Natasha stayed behind and decided to wait in the lobby to give the two of you space.

Getting Steve to talk about you was like pulling teeth, and that's exactly how Nat knew the extent of how precious you were to him. If she hadn't previously met you, she didn't know if at this point she would even be aware of your existence.

When you heard steps approaching, and saw shadows of feet under the door, you covered your ears tighter, and sunk your face deeper into your legs.

You hated the sound of the security code being typed into the keypad, and you despised the click of the door unlocking and opening even more.

But when it did, just as always you cried a little harder, and flinched at the approaching footsteps. This time was different though, as you waited for an agent to start yelling at you, it never happened.

Steve's heart broke as he opened the door and saw you curled up in the corner. This wasn't the happy reunion he had dreamed of since the moment he left, but it was even more bitter sweet than saying goodbye to you.

You had been through a lot and all on your own, arguably more than him. You were smack dab in the middle of one of the biggest traumas of your life, all while being triggered by passed events.

He understood that he was probably one of the last people you wanted to see right now, he even understood that you would be terrified of him right off the bat. You had just listened to him rudely yelling at everyone under the sun for a while, one of your biggest triggers and fears was loud, disruptive men.

The second he stepped in he considered turning right around and getting Natasha to come remove your cuffs and bring you up to their private sector. Maybe you'd feel less on edge around a woman, especially one you trusted and had bonded with once before. But he also didn't want you to feel ignored by him, he didn't want you realizing you were in his place of living without seeing his face or being made comfortable by him.

So he did his best to take the most gentle approach he could. He closed the door behind him so softly it wouldn't make a sound, he walked so carefully as to not make a single thud with his food as if he was sneaking up on an enemy in battle.

Every step closer he took, you could still tell someone was in the room with you, so you tried to push yourself deeper into the corner hoping it would swallow you whole and you'd completely disappear.

You physically couldn't get yourself to look up until someone unusual happened. Whoever was in the room with you had cautiously sat on the floor in front of you and settled in.

"Hey, Sunflower" The calm and comforting voice filled your ears.

Your eyes snapped open, full body chills rushed over your skin as you peaked through your eyelashes, still unwilling to lift your head. In front of you sat Steve, you had never felt so much relief in your entire life for a multitude of reasons.

He looked different. A clean shaven face and a shorter hair cut, scar on his forehead, his usual street ware was replaced with jeans and a nice button down flannel. You assumed this version of him was a lot more typical than the version of him you knew, but he was still so handsome this way.

"I'm so sorry this happened" He apologized, his voice even quieter and more comforting than before. "Is it okay if I take your handcuffs off?"

It had been awhile since you spoken a single word, and right now you didn't even know what to say to him.

Although you knew he would never hurt you, and you were relieved to have him with you now, your brain still wanted to push everyone away. It was in flight or fight, and getting it to listen to your heart saying that he was safe to be around was hard.

But he knew that, and that's why he was maintaining a gentle approach. He vividly remembered that night he got a glimpse of the full extent in which men in your life had scarred you. He knew you'd need some time to warm up, you needed your needs met, you needed a few hours to not feel so scared anymore.

You nodded before reluctantly letting go of the sides of your face and holding your wrists out to him. Steve reached out slowly and unlocked the mechanism allowing them to pop open. He gently took them off your wrists and put them on the floor, revealing your irritated red skin beneath where they once clung to your body.

"Gosh, they put those on so tight" He winced looking at your wrists. "Does it hurt?"

You nodded once again, your tears now fell because you forgot what it was like to be around someone who genuinely cared about you.

"Can I?" He asked, sticking his hands out towards yours.

You hesitantly placed your shaky hands in each of his, desperately trying to get your mind to recognize that he wasn't going to hurt you, trying so hard to think of any words you could say to him.

He very delicately moved his hands upwards to your wrist, and carefully massaged where the cuffs once were. It felt so nice, you wanted to melt into a puddle on the floor.

"Does that feel better?" He questioned with a worried expression on his face. When you nodded once more, he continued. "Do you know anything about where you are?"

This time you shook your head.

"You're in New York, upstate." He explained to you. "This is a criminal intake center meant for agent interrogation here at the Avengers Compound. I live in this building but I had no clue you were here until an hour and a half ago."

You slowly lifted your head but kept your eyes fixed on your wrists in his hands. Teeny tiny baby steps, but it made him happy.

"I was looking for you since you called, came down as soon as I heard." He continued. "I got it all squared away for you, okay? You don't have to worry about anything. Your criminal record has been completely scrubbed, and you're free to go."

You finally made eye contact, then your mind went crazy again. You didn't have an ID on you, no money, no cards, not even a phone or access to a computer. Then the words finally came to you in a moment of worry. "I don't know how to get home"

"It's okay" he reassured you. "When you're ready and if you're okay with it, I'll bring you to my place. We'll get you settled and I'll fly you home. Is that alright?"

"Thank you" You cried, the words came out broken.

"I'm so sorry." He apologized again. "I'm disgusted by the way this was handled, this should've never happened."

"Not your fault" You squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head.

"And I'm sorry you had to hear me yelling like that, I know that probably scared you. I know it'll take some time to settle down from all of this, but I'm here for you. Whatever you need, I'll make it happen, okay?"

"It's okay" Your voice still broken.

The more he spoke, the more you calmed down. You felt almost immediately safer and more grounded in his presence, everything you were worried about before had flown out of the window. He was exactly the same, and it started to feel like no time had passed at all.

The more fear that left your body, the more you wanted to hug him, kiss him, just have him in your arms again. But honestly you felt disgusting and definitely didn't look the best.

"Are you alright, did they hurt you?" He asked, feeling genuinely concerned about the way the agents handled you.

You nodded before rolling up the loose sleeve of your hoodie, revealing the marks your body was littered in. A darkness settled in his eyes as he took in the state of your body, then you lifted the hem of show him the small of your waist, also covered in black and blue hand prints.

"If they didn't already lose their jobs, I'd be losing mine right about now." He admitted his anger. "Do you feel like you need some medical help? We have private doctors, they're very nice. I could stay with you the whole time."

Your heart warmed that he remembered another one of your fears, but you still shrugged. "I don't know what I need."

"That's okay" He continued massaging your wrists. "How about we get you out of here and more comfortable at my place then we'll reassess in a bit?"

You nodded in agreement, feeling so thankful that this mess was over and that Steve lived so close. Just as you were about to get up, he slipped in more comforting words.

"I know this is an awful circumstance, but I really am so happy to see you." He admitted.

You slid your wrists out of his hold to grab his hands with yours instead. "I'm happy to see you too" You nodded, more tears falling down your cheeks. "I didn't really even know if you were alive until now."

His eyes softened as he realized he hadn't been seen in the public eye since Thanos snapped, and all his attempts to reach out to you had failed in one way or the other. You didn't even get to know that he did answer the phone when you called.

"I'm so sorry" he cautiously apologized. "You can't get rid of me that easily"

"Thank goodness for that"

Steve stood up and held his hands out for you, you took them once more and he very carefully helped you up. You stumbled upon standing, getting used to being up on your own feet again while feeling so weak from lack of anything in your body, but you caught your balance.

"I've got you" Steve reassured once again. "Everyone is gone by the way, it's just Natasha out there waiting for us."

"What happened to everyone else?" You asked, trying hard not to externally flinch every time Steve moved, his hand cautiously and lightly resided on your lower back. You could tell he was worried that you would fall or else he definitely wouldn't be touching you right now.

"Getting fired" Steve answered honestly, guiding you out of the door.

As you stepped out of the room and turned the corner of the hallway out into the main reception area, you saw Natasha who lit up with a warm smile.

"Sugar cookie, you poor thing" She approached, reaching out to you slowly, squeezing your shoulders before tucking some of your hair behind your ears. "I'm so happy you're okay."

The nickname reminded you of Sam that one night that felt like lifetimes ago, and it pulled your lips upwards into the tiniest smile that prevailed through the tears.

"It's nice to see you again, Nat" You tried to keep up the smile in attempts to be warm to someone who meant a lot to Steve, but it was impossibly hard. "Thanks for the help."

"Of course, anytime." Nat nodded, stepping in front of you to lead you back to their home.

No matter how exciting a grand tour of the fucking Avengers Compound would've been for a small town girl like you, there was an unspoken agreement that now was not the time.

Steve didn't even really find it appropriate to show you around the living space yet before ushering you straight to his room, and getting you set up for the only thing you could actually express want for which was a shower.

After some reassurance that he would be right there waiting for you when you were done, you let hot water calm you before changing into the comfort of Steve's clothes and shyly walking into his room.

It was a lot bigger than you had anticipated, and so much cozier that you thought was possible in a building that felt so cold and mechanical. And just as promised, he was there for you. He sat on his bed, back against the headboard, laptop in front of him and he was talking to someone on the phone.

You listened as you slowly walked over, still feeling like your guard was up and three miles high.

"Yes, we have her." Steve said. "I can confirm she's very much alive and doing okay- relatively unharmed... yes sir.... I'll have her home soon. Yes sir... okay, thank you."

He hung up the phone and put it on his bedside before closing his laptop and doing the same, then all his attention was back on you with a kind grin across his lips.

Unexpectedly to Steve, you walked right up to him. He looked at you with a little concerned pinch in his eyebrows before you got on the bed and wrapped your arms tightly around him.

"Awwwww" Steve audibly cooed, uncontrollably smiling and very cautiously wrapping his arms around your back. "Sweet girl."

"I missed you, baby." You said quietly, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

"I missed you too, so so much" He rubbed comforting stripes down your spine. "I'm so happy to have you here. Are you starting to feel better?"

"A little" You confirmed.

Just in the very short amount of time you've spent since reuniting, even in your scared, clouded brain you could see the guilt looming over Steve and Natasha's heads. You didn't even know if you should bring up what happened, or how to even begin asking him how life has been treating him since the last time you were together.

"It's gonna take some time." He told you as a reminder to keep being easy on yourself. "I just got off the phone with the chief of police in Greenwood, apparently nobody filled them in on the situation so there's been a search party out for you for two days now."

"Can we just tell everyone I was kidnapped?" You asked, half joking. "That's easier than what actually happened."

"I would 100% count that as an abduction."

"And I was saved by Captain America and Black Widow."

Steve giggled and pressed a kiss into your temple. A comfortable silence fell over the two of you, fully letting each others bodies comfort your minds as the passed few months had been nothing but painful.

But you found the courage to lift your head and look at his face, your heart was beating out of your chest even just by really looking at him.

The fading scar, his big blue eyes, the bare cheeks you weren't used to seeing. It all told a story of what he had been through, and your couldn't even begin to grasp it. You were lying in the arms of a man who had just been hurt by the hands of the titan who destroyed half the universe. He had seen the unimaginable, been hurt by beings you'd never even come close to, fought battles for the sake of the universe with the two hands that were holding you close.

It suddenly felt so stupid to be so emotionally destroyed over the nature of your arrest, especially when he was looking right back at you.

"You look good, honey." You complemented, bringing your hand up to trace the scar on his forehead. "A lot different, but still so beautiful."

"I think you've gotten even prettier" Steve complemented.

"Wow, that's shocking" You genuinely smiled. "All I've been doing for the passed few months is staying inside and eating spicy Doritos."

"They're so much better than the normal ones" Steve commented.

"Right?!" You agreed. "Dare I ask you how you've been?"

Steve sighed, his lips pressed into a straight line. "I'll tell you all about it when you're in a little bit of a better place, but all you need to know about it right now is that after it happened I made sure you were still here the very second I could, then after that we just kept trying and haven't stopped since."

"So you've been busy?" You questioned, once again feeling warmed over his thoughtfulness and genuine care over your well-being.

"Yeah, I've been busy." he nodded. "And for whatever it's worth, I hope you've been okay despite what happened."

"I think we're all just trying our best, and that's all we can do."

Steve nodded, trying to think of words to acknowledge the Avengers failure. He promised they would keep you safe, and although you're right here in front of him, there was a 50% chance you could've been gone. Even after you survived the blip, you still were put in a situation that was unsafe by people who worked under the same wing as him. Not only did the Avengers fail, but he failed you.

Now you were here with him, in a place he never would've imagined you in. Your body covered in bruises and his sweatpants, red eyes and nose, and a sad facial expression that would take a while to dissolve.

He really thought that getting absolved of his crimes from the civil war would wash away the guilt he's always felt since as long as he could remember, but now he had a whole new criteria in front of him. A whole new binder stuffed full of pages written with ways he's fucked up, hurt and lost the people he loved. Each page was laminated and slotted into plastic sheet protectors just to make sure he never forgot what was said and done.

His mind ran away from him, guilt ate him away until he felt your soft lips on his and it pulled him right back. Closed eyes and a sigh of relief, being with you was the first time in a while he felt any sense of control. It was as though he was a helium balloon floating through the air, and you caught him and tied the string around your wrist.

"You tried your best, too." You reminded him, seeing his internal battle. Your lips brushing against his.

"We killed him." Steve blurted out. "We lost, but we killed him."

You sat up slightly, trying to process this information. It was obvious the public wasn't being informed of everything, and although Steve wanted to protect your peace, he just couldn't keep that information in.

"What?" You blinked, cocking your head to the side.

"Thanos." Steve confirmed. "We went to a planet that he was hiding away on and we killed him."

You weren't sure what he wanted you do get out of that information, or where he was going with it, but you tried your hardest to understand.

"I was just so... angry. I was thinking about you, and I lost Sam, Bucky- we thought if we got the stones back we could just snap again and everyone would come back but when we got there, they were destroyed. We missed them by one day." Steve explained. "That was our second and only chance, we failed twice. Thor took his head clean off."

"Steve-" you started, but he cut you off.

"We're not giving up but spirits have been very low, morale around here has never been so drab, and I think that's why those agents took their anger out on you. Everyone is just angry."

"Im not angry." You told him.

"I'm sorry" Steve apologized, shaking his head. "You've been through hell and back recently, and I feel like all of it has been because of me, and I'm sorry for that."

"None of this is your fault" You denied. "And I'd do it a thousand times over for you, Honey. You tried your best, you've always done the best you've could and you've done great things because of it. I'm thankful for you."

"Who did you lose?" He asked.

"It doesn't matter" Just like he felt the need to protect you, you needed to protect him. "Not right now at least."

He nodded, understanding where you were coming from. "What is Greenwood like?"

"Well," you sat up more and grinned. "Everyone was very excited that good ol' Cap was in town so your driveway is full of love letters and flowers just for you."

"Awwwww, did Georgia leave me one too?" He joked.

You audibly laughed out loud, "the only thing Georgia sent you was me."

"No way" His eyes got big, mouth hung open.

"Way" you nodded.

"She reported us?" He questioned, stunned at this information.

"Then watched me get taken away, drinking tea like it was a bucket of popcorn at the movie theater." You explained.

"That little-" Steve started, but stopped himself before puffing out a breath. "Ugh! Why!?"

You giggled at his discipline, "not everyone can handle all of your greatness, baby."

"Yeah, yeah." Steve rolled his eyes. "Should I go knock on her door when I get to Greenwood and tell her about how you were found innocent?"

"I think she would beat you with a fly swatter" You smiled.

"I've been shot a few times, I think it would be worth the beating to see the look on her face." Steve giggled.

"Always up to no good, baby." You shook your head with a playful grin.

"It's what I'm known for" Steve agreed.

"I have a question." You said shyly, hands playing with the fabric of his flannel button up.

"What's up?" He welcomed your curiosity.

"So, you're going to take me home but is there anyway you can stay? Even just for a day or two?" The thought of leaving him so soon after you had just got him back was hurting your heart.

"You know, I actually had a visit to Greenwood planned in a week? It was on the team calendar and everything." He told you.

"Really?" You smiled, just the thought made you happy.

"Yeah, I made myself unavailable for the Avengers for three weeks. I thought some time away from here and time with you would be good for me." He explained. "But I'll talk with the team and see if I can just extend it."

"Even if you can't, I'm more than happy now"

"I was thinking maybe you can stay the night here and I'll take you back tomorrow morning? I know it's been a long few days and you probably just want to go home but, if you think you need a doctor there's one just down the hall." He explained.

"Anything to spend more time with you" You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Maybe Georgia unknowingly did us a favor. Because know you're completely clean of any crime and we finally get a few more minutes." Steve grinned, kissing the top of your head.

"And when you come back to Greenwood we won't have to hide anymore." You pointed out.

"I'm so happy" Steve couldn't control his smile. "But I'll be even happier once I know you're okay."

"I'm feeling so much better now" You admitted. Hungry? Yes. Exhausted? Absolutely. But, "I always feel so safe when you're around."

"I love you so much" He held you just a little tighter, with more confidence it wasn't going to scare you.

"I love you too" You nuzzled into him.

"Okay, now let me catch you up on everything you need to know before being around the Avengers for a day..."

"Oh no" You settled in for what you assumed would be some interesting pointers as he reached for a throw blanket and put it over the two of you.

"They're an interesting bunch, well, half bunch...and there might be a talking Raccoon that comes around..."

Next Part: Homecoming

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[cozzzynook]

Rodimus giving birth and feeling something is wrong. There's so much blood and his little one isn't coming out. Ratchet ends up breaking his leg to get their sparkling out.

-Bread.

This ask took so long because I wanted it to be one of the best things I could go back and read. I wanted this to be long.

-

Carrying was…both a beautiful and difficult thing.

The beauty in this was growing a life in his forge tanks that was combined of his own cna and his partners Drift and Ratchet.

The two were conjunx and he was their partner they planned on conjunxing, though he had plenty doubts of being conjunx to them or it lasting long since he was more than a few servo fulls. The two immediately rejected such ideals and told him to get those thoughts from his processor.

Try as he might to hide this insecurity and fear getting sparked made it impossible to do so. He had no choice but to work on the unrelenting pressure that was his thoughts and feelings. And it was all thanks to the result of a glowing orange bio fluid that covered the small pipe rod that he slipped into his valve and rested on the edges of his gestation tank that led directly to his forge.

The glowing light meant one thing and one thing only.

He was sparked.

His frame was so heavy and tired because it no longer worked for only himself but another life that was steadily growing and forming inside him. Made up of Ratchets cna and transfluid and Drifts energon and spark energy.

Truly the bitlet had a mix of all these things from each of them. But he always deep dived the intricacies of it this way. It felt more romantic, more connecting, this way.

He was not as connected during his first few weeks of knowing as he was now.

The first few days he was in denial and determined each of the eighteen tests he took were all flukes.

Then he moved onto the stage of sobbing his fragging optics out and getting angry punching his desk while static bubbles caught his windpipe because he didn’t think they’d want a sparkling and he knows he’s a mess he doesn’t want another person fragged up because of it. Bad enough his now courting conjunx had to deal with it, he didn’t want to burden a fresh new spark with himself too.

Of course Drift found him crying in the lower decks during the dead shift.

Rodimus snuck from berth because he was now hungry and couldn’t recharge without eating.

He hated how he gave in so easily to the cravings, consuming energon just the way Ratchet liked it while eating thick and bitter shaved metals, one of Drifts favorite snacks.

The mech took one look at him as he was crying on the floor eating and put it together so fast Rodimus didn’t have time to sniffle twice or blink the tears away.

Drifts reaction was a helm turner because he was immediately so happy and excited at having a sparkling to being completely concerned about Rodimus and what he wanted.

…he ended up crying into Drifts shoulders while eating because he was still sad and worried while so happy Drift accepted their sparkling but he was also still incredibly hungry and wanted more fuel.

Thats how Ratchet found them half an hour later.

Drift smiling at Rodimus like he had a bolt loose while Rodimus was blubbering as he fueled.

Ratchets processor was still sharp as ever so he could understand what Rodimus was saying pretty well and all things considered he handled the news fairly well.

Did he have to sit down in shock?

Yes.

But did he pull Rodimus and Drift into a tight hug before something clicked in his helm and he was berating Rodimus for keeping it hidden for so long and immediately ran diagnostics on Rodimus calling him a sparked bolt brain?

Yes.

It made Rodimus’s blubbering heavier but it was a good heavy all things considered.

After that Rodimus was never alone seeing as Ratchet or Drift or both mechs were continuously glued to his side.

In the day during his shift Rodimus was with either Drift or Ratchet who stayed next to him on the bridge. If it was after his shift he went to the medbay with Ratchet or the training room with Drift. He hardly spent time by himself save for napping in berth when he didn’t feel like being around either of them or felt a burden. He would not admit a third option of not being able to stay awake because his frame was heavy and tired and his optics would close on their own. He refused to admit such a thing.

Not that he would need to anyway.

Ratchet and Drift knew by how hard he now slept and how often he’d fall into recharge in the middle of watching tv, while sitting for longer than a few kliks, in the wash racks when they took baths together or when he was almost done fueling.

Ratchet and Drift thought they were hilarious putting his fuel or metals under his olfactory sensors and watching him start to eat while still asleep just before waking up and yawning.

That annoyed him every time and he still wishes he could pretend to choke just so they’d stop.

He didn’t want to endanger his sparkling so he didn’t but he really wanted to scare them and get his own laugh. So he decided pranking them in a different way would be better.

It took some patience, quite a bit actually their species carry for a very very long time, but he did it. He got the two back when he was almost a month away from emergence.

He needed their help getting up since he was so big he couldn’t see his own pedes anymore let alone a wide space of the floor in front of him.

The two didn’t ever complain about having to lift him but they did grunt from the strain.

The first few times made him angry at nothing and everything but after that it just made him cry. Another thing he finds himself doing as he looks back.

The prank he played didn’t require tears per se but they did require a real enough facial expression of pain.

Something he did almost perfectly when he stood up and used expired easy clean up energon to pretend his forge fluid broke and that the sparkling was coming.

The look on both their face plates was a memory he couldn’t wait to share with their bitty and a memory that made him almost pee himself with how hard he laughed.

Making it to the bathroom doesn’t count as peeing on one’s self. Ratchet was completely wrong about that just like he was wrong about his assumptions moments that felt and were long ago.

It was mid afternoon when he woke from a surprise nap he didn’t feel coming. He yawned, stretched his arms a tad, shifted uncomfortably with great effort and looked around the room as he felt cramps tangling his tanks.

His forge felt lower and heavier than before and his sparkling was wiggling in an odd position they’ve never done before.

He thought something was off but he didn’t want to raise alarm and it was nothing so he kept himself on guard for anything else strange and decided to get up and waddle around.

Maybe his sparkling just needed some exercise?

Whatever it was he hoped he was doing the right thing.

Getting up took a lot of effort and since Drift was on shift and Ratchet was probably in the medbay he had to get up himself. It proved as challenging as he thought it would and after five minutes he gave up.

His lower back struts were beginning to hurt and his hips were aching from the strain while internally punishing him. He could feel pain strike across his tanks but he’s been feeling that for a while so he’s figuring it was false pulses again.

He was ready to start tearing up at being stuck and immobile when he heard pede steps and Ratchet came into the berthroom.

“Kid? Ya alright?”

Ratchet had an optic ridge raised as he looked him over and he sighed in relief, holding his hands out with an apologetic look Ratchet told him to quit with.

“Yer sparked kid, of course ya need help and I’m old but not that old,” his conjunx growled out, a lot less grumpy than usual.

“Sorry Ratch,” he laughed a tad breathless once standing at an awkward angle to get some comfort. The pain felt like it was growing and the locations were both normal and odd compared to what Ratchet and the books told him.

He was starting to wonder if something was really wrong when he felt the sudden urge to empty his waste tanks.

He hissed, holding his heavy and definitely low tanks as he bent forward, deeply venting as he attempted to ground himself in the pain while Ratchet asked what was wrong with panic in his voice.

He decided to voice his concerns to Ratchet but before he could his modesty panels opened on their own and he felt his waste and forge tanks release themselves without his permission and he gasped from both shock, embarrassment and pain.

“Oh frag, yer in labor kid. Alright, they’re a tad early but this is completely normal and safe. What I want you to do is breathe for me kid, can ya do that?”

He nodded his helm as he remained bent over holding Ratchet’s servo as he called First aid to prep the medbay for emergence and then called Drift who yelled so loud Rodimus could hear it.

The mech got an earful from Ratchet who was helping him slowly waddle towards the wash racks to clean himself off since emergence took a while and he didn’t want him sitting in his own waste, neither did Rodimus, as they waited for Drift to speed inside.

Ratchet was talking to help him stay grounded as they got inside their large bath tub that had room for four mechs when Drift came panting in the door way.

“Bout time ya got here,” Ratchet grouched playfully as he let Drift hold Rodimus up who was still in pain that seemed to only be growing with every passing minute.

“Ratty, it took me less than three minutes and I was on the other side of the ship. Cut me some slack like Roddy. You breathing alright Roddy?”

Drift’s words would’ve been soothing and comforting if not for the steady pain that was becoming so unbearable he grit his denta and now Drifts servo.

“Roddy?”

He felt something drop inside him and with it his knee struts.

Drift caught him at an odd angle but kept him from hitting the ground as Ratchet rushed over to scan him.

“Kid!”

He felt something burning within his tanks and inside his valve that didn’t at all feel like the description he read about in the books and felt the need to push but couldn’t because something felt wrong and his spark knew not to do anything.

But everything hurt so much and it felt like he was on fire from the inside as he felt the weight pressing against his valve tighten and constrict before wiggling and he felt his optics flicker making his vision black as he realized he was screaming in intense pain that momentarily blacked him out.

He was on his back in the water with Drift holding him up bracing him on both sides of his stabilizers while Ratchet looked worried as he felt around his valve and tried to put a servo inside him only for it to be blocked.

“Frag!”

Rodimus felt his spark drop at the loud curse and he screamed gripping Drifts servo at the next pulse that felt worse than the last.

He felt his tanks constrict and something pushed against his hip making him scream out in agony as something moved the wrong way against his internals, hip mesh and valve making it feel like it would rip.

It took five kliks for the pulse to end and by that time he struggled to open his optics and hear what Ratchet was trying to tell him.

“Listen to me kid. This is gonna hurt bad, real bad but its the only way I can make the pain go away and get our sparkling here and keep you alive. I promise, you will be fine after this,” Ratchet promised for all their sakes.

Rodimus understood what he was saying but another pulse came and he tightened his grip almost crushing Drift’s servo but the mech just comforted him and braced him for what he knew was coming.

“Okay kid, on the count of three yer gonna be in extreme pain but Drift’s gonna run you to the medbay where we can fix ya and the sparkling, alright love?”

He sobbed and nodded his helm.

The pain was making his spark hurt and he wanted to comfort Ratchet who never used that name unless he was scared but he couldn’t.

He was just so hot and hurting he couldn’t do anything but try to breathe.

“One,” Ratchet was tense and making optic contact with Drift who felt terrified but had to trust Ratchet, “two,” Rodimus felt a pulse coming on and grit his teeth groaning at the pain as he felt it pass after seven kliks. His frame growing weak as he noticed the glowing life energon in the water.

“Three!”

He felt Ratchet’s servo shoot and wiggle inside his valve and push what he realized was their sparkling back and he smashed his other palm down on the center of his hip and yanked it outward before pulling their sparkling out.

He wailed in agony from the sudden onslaught of pain that wouldn’t grant him the empathy of blacking out.

He stayed awake wailing from the nano klik Ratchet broke his hip to free their sparkling that was stuck to the nano klik he was being laid on the medberth and given powerful sedatives that almost failed to cut through his pain.

The very first thing he saw when he woke was Ratchet and Drift curled up on either side of him while two tiny bundles laid on his chassis.

He woke them with his crying as he touched along their delicate mesh face plates, feeling their dermas, olfactory sensors, optic ridges and the softest part of their closed optics that began to twitch and flicker from his touches as a tiny arm cane up and tried to move him.

They had all their digits and Drifts frame type with his claws.

Their helms had finials just like Drift but they had Ratchets optic color and shape. They even had his scowl which made Rodimus laugh the two sires awake.

They worried over him, Ratchets love language of fussing came full force as he told Rodimus he should’ve woken him immediately while not really meaning it as he checked him over.

Drift helped make it easy for him to hold the twin sparklings that had Ratchets mesh coloring and biolights.

He felt sad they didn’t get anything from him and he was the one who did the hard part, how unfair.

“Beautiful,” he cried, careful not to move since his frame was in a mess of pain and still healing. It would be for a long time Ratchet explained.

The sparklings dropped together and were coming out together which is why it felt so wrong and hurt so much and how they got stuck.

Turns out one mech was hiding behind the other and in true split spark fashion they had the same spark beat down to the last detail almost.

Its easy to miss and thats why no one saw the other or could tell.

He smiled, kissing both their helms.

“You sure made an entrance,” he joked.

Drift and Ratchet weren’t as thrilled by his joke and truthfully he was riding on carrier after emergence high. By the evening or next day he would be a traumatized mess.

But for now, he just wanted to enjoy being with his conjunxs and sparklings.

Primus knows he won’t be doing this again.