#boxing machine hire

[jumpandmove]

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[kappaboxes]

HIRING FOR MACHINE OPERATORS!

[blueshykitsune-blog]

I want a giant brown bunny... but... but too much!

The only one I found was like $158 USD... it was just about 5 foot tall! It literally was like looking at what I wanted to make but realized I didn't have enough stuffing for!

And one that was like 3 feet tall was $100...

Like yes I know materials and time is money but I can still complain! Why fabric gotta be so much! And so messy! (The ones with faux fur or of the like. Like whyyyyyy!!!!) Also why is cotton and stuffing so much too! And you get enough for maybe only one 2 foot plushie!

(I ran out of tagging space... 30 the limit sadly. But I had more to say but maybe later I'll do a bigger post on that all.)

[debaucheryandexcess]

a very specific recurring fantasy i have is the idea of being hired at an office for some kind of lifestyle fitness brand, and wondering how my fat ass is going to fit in with the culture when everyone else seems like fit trim outdoorsy types

and then i sit down at my desk for my first day and it turns out my position is being the office's pet pig that's used as a living food disposal. im one of the first people in the office, and as everyone files in they leave me all the drivethru breakfast treats that they got on their commute and then ""decided they didnt want""

after that im given the remainder of the breakroom donuts that someone brought for my first day- the boxes are only missing the three i took earlier. my lunch break is scheduled after everyone elses, and im given all the extra off everyones meals, which quickly escalates to including whole takeout orders that ""got made wrong"" or people just ""didnt want"" anymore. and as im working through it, people also drop off abandoned vending machine treats and afternoon snacks

any time theres an office party the excess catering gets piled on my desk, and im very much expected to eat all of it on top of my regular influx. it might also be that the company makes something like protein shakes or meal bars, and im regularly forced into participating in taste tests, or else im being constantly offered them ""for my health""

my weight obviously skyrockets, im constantly stuffed to the brim, and within a few weeks im already having wardrobe malfunctions on the clock

[artemismoorea03]

DC x DP or Marvel Prompt: The Gremlin Janitor

When Wayne Enterprises/Stark Industries hire two new people at the same time who just happened to share the same two references they just though it was a weird coincidence. After all, one was hired on as a programmer due to his excellent hacking abilities while the other was hired on as a Janitor.

They of course ran background checks on both of them but they came up clear. Fresh out of High School, lived in the area, came from Amity Park Illinois, and no criminal record outside of what they had actively admitted to which was only the one who was hired as a Programmer. He got caught for Hacking - hence how they knew about his skills.

But what caught everybody off guard was the first meeting.

Tucker Foley is rather tall, looks his age, and despite looking around like a kid in a candy store seems to have everything in order.

But then there's Danny Fenton. He looks too young to be out of High School though all of his information was sound and he even had paper documentation and other such proof that he was 19 and was as he claimed "Just short". But he was just here to be a janitor.

So did it truely matter?

If anybody was going to be a security risk it would be the hacker with a record.

The first week goes smoothly, but half way through the second week things start to get noticed. Not about Tucker but about Danny. Sure, there had been plenty of comments about his age but other than that he was just praised as being a hard worker even if he didn't understand the concept of wearing a mask and gloves around spilled chemicals.

But no injuries were reported any time he did this. Even when an experimental suit went out of control and started rushing through the building. It was small compared to some of the other tech, but it was still over six feet tall and easily 400 pounds. It wasn't necessarily on a rampage but it was out of control. People ran out of the way, tried to block it, but nobody was successful until Danny - short as hell Danny Fenton - threw himself right in front of it.

Danny blocked it, with just his forearm, stopping it from running over an intern who had been running from the area in fear of getting crushed by the machine. The intern would report that the area was terribly cold when Danny did this but when Tucker came out of hiding a few seconds later saying the machine had been shut down they attributed the cold to anxiety and figured that Tucker had stopped the machine before it had actually hit Danny.

A few weeks later there was a break in the dead of the night, a fight between the intruder and Danny broke out and again Danny held his own and managed to chase off the intruder but not before one of the metal tables were snapped in half. Danny claimed that the intruder had some kind of blade on his arm that cut through it but it was clearly not cut through.

After that Bruce/Tony starts paying more attention to Danny.

More and more minor things popped up until they were finally driven to a point where they just had to meet this kid in person and see him work.

Within moments of arriving they saw Danny Fenton pick up spilled container of Hydrofloric Acid like it was nothing. Which was just one of MANY things that Danny did within an hour that should have ended in disaster.

The final straw though was when Bruce/Tony decided to finally approach Danny and caught him yelling at a box that was mysteriously floating a few feet off the ground.

"PUT THAT THING BACK WHERE IT CAME FROM OR SO HELP ME!" The box then dropped, Danny let out a hiss that sounded like a feral animal, then turned and made eyecontact with the man a few feet from him. Danny's only response? To lean against the broom he was holding and smile. "Oh, hey boss!"

[astrogre]

What gifts to buy for each Venus sign

Christmas is among us, my favourite season and time of the year. Venus is the planet of love, by nature it can display what we like to receive from others but if you don’t know their Venus or the house it’s in you can try to look at the persons Sun sign instead but Venus is ideal.

A gift based on their:

Sun sign will make them feel seen and like you know them well, it will be a gift they may appreciate

Venus sign is all they’ve ever desired it’s the pinnacle of their ideal gift. Especially as Venus represents how we like to receive and experience love

Aries/ 1H Venus

Gym membership, running shoes, thrill seeking experiences like tickets to bungee jumping, rock climbing, a skydiving event, gym outfit, tickets to their favourite artist, tickets to festival, cool lighter, archery classes, tickets to sports games, a shirt with their teams logo or merch from their favourite artists, scissors set, cooking tools, hair styling products like hairspray, hair dye, Fitbit/apple watch, knives set, sports gear, heavy bass headphones, tickets for those room smashing experiences, take them clay pigeon shooting, family destroying board games like Risk or Catan, diy tattoo kit, diy piercing kit, theme park tickets.

Aries Venus are by nature thrill seekers, Aries is ruled by the head and has 1st house influences, they can certainly appreciate something that ignites passion, they are impulsive and quick by nature to pursue what they desire. They need gifts that match their decisive nature and to let out that pent up energy they have in them, I honestly think experiences are the best for them. Or a box of hair dye for their impulsive moments

Taurus/ 2H Venus

Hire a chef or take them to a really good restaurant for a 5 course meal that serves orgasmic food and has impeccable visuals/atmosphere OR you can even arrange a 7 course homemade meal with the finest of recipes! , fine jewellery adorned with a gemstone, culinary experiences, cooking classes, kitchenware, go to fragrantica.com and find a high quality perfume to give, premium home decor, art, antique items, antique furniture, comfortable cosy clothing, hot water bottle, gardening tools, plants, selection of seeds for their garden, diffuser, essential oils, desserts like baklava/ferro rocher, luxury goods, wellness retreat subscription, day at the spa, tea set, comfy velvet winter pillows and bed sheets

Oh my Taurus natives, they know how to break a bank for Christmas and if not they can enjoy luxury on a budget! They enjoy the finer things of life of course Venus ruled, they know how to induge in pleasures and satisfaction. Due to the earthy influence they have a green finger and a natural affinity with plants and gardening, they may love flowers or want to grow plants themselves. Taurus venuses are rather easy to gift, if you know them they usually have a vice, it may be sleep, food or pure laziness, get them something according to their vice and they will treasure it.

Gemini/ 3H Venus

Really cool stationary, Spotify subscription, comedy show tickets, books from their favourite genre, a notebook, Grammarly subscription, cards against humanity board game, Duolingo subscription, multiplayer games, home kit recording studio, language learning stuff, calligraphy classes, kindle, portable car charger, Bluetooth speaker, karaoke machine, suitcase, travel accessories, a musical instrument, sealing wax kit, creative hobby supplies, microphone, podcasting equipment, audio editing software, a car, vr headset, Nintendo online subscription, Netflix/HBO/youtube/crunchyroll subscription

Gemini rules communication, short journeys and social engagement. Blessing these natives with tools to enhance their pleasant hobbies will make them swoon in gratitude, if you want to get them something make it engaging and whimsical. These natives are ruled by mercury and always welcome something that requires the mind.

Cancer/ 4H Venus

A cooking set, baking set, comfort food, commission artwork of the family, family photos, some really nice home decor, a keepsake/musical box adorned with velvets and soft materials that will store sentimental objects, a locket necklace, family recipe book make a recipe book of all their favourite foods and some foods you know they’d like, soft fluffy blanket, the family heirloom, hand crafted quilt, hand painted ceramic mug, animal crossing game, sims 4 game, games relating to the home, bring and fly in family that are far away as a surprise and cook their favourite meal together, household utilities, lush bath products, a personal chef for a day, a personal butler for a day, custom family tree art, ancestry DNA kit (please be careful though once you use them they keep your data and if they get hacked your information is out there), home movie night, comfy slippers and pyjamas, family board games, this christmas make them Christmas dinner this time.

Cancer rules the home and there’s nothing more appreciated by a cancer Venus than things that remind them of this. They are by nature expressive and nurturing, this time let them be pampered!

Leo/ 5H Venus

Hair care products, gift card for their favorite store, make them an edit no joke like a TikTok edit that makes them look really cool, one of those light up mirrors or a pretty handheld one if they don’t have one already, book them a photoshoot together if they don’t like the camera maybe post them on your social media and show affection for these bold natives, theatre tickets, bold sunglasses, luxury watch, good jewellery, VIP experiences like backstage passes or reservation to exclusive invite only restaurants, designer clothing that is a prestigious brand they love, commission style artwork, make them a playlist of songs that reminds you of them, fine wine, personalised fragrance creation that allows them to create their own signature fragrance, personalised makeup makeover, hire a stylist for them

A perfect gift for Leo’s need to have an element of self expression, luxury and incorporate their personality that garners attention from peers. They need a gift that makes them feel special, something tailored specifically for them that cannot be gifted to anyone else. Personalised gifts do well either this placement too. When I think of these natives I just think of that Meghan Trainor music video “Me Too” watch that and you’ll get their vibe.

Virgo/ 6H Venus

Skincare products, a blender for smoothies, lots of cleaning products, multi purpose aesthetic storage containers, Quora or chat gpt subscription (these guys like to be well informed), give them scientifically researched bath products that have all that vitamin breakdown qualities, make them a notion template to help them plan, quality office supplies like a desk organiser or chair, practical fitness gear like a yoga mat, a fitness tracker, get them a personal nutritionist, tailored meal prep services, bookshelf organiser system, a stylish briefcase, home office makeover (BUT PLEASE GET THEIR PERMISSION FIRST), online course subscription, digital subscription to news feed, you can never go wrong with practical things, an ikea haul, Costco membership, minimalist decor, multi vitamins, a precision watch, set of labelling and sorting tools, a neat tidy chess board, get them a nice little pet, honestly for some reason whenever I think of Virgos I think of matcha. Get them something matcha based.

Virgo Venus natives need gifts that resemble their routine and organisation, they can be rather difficult to purchase for since they have such a specific taste in mind. Gift cards are practical for them but they really need something that allows them to be more prepared. Take them out for comparison price shopping like say if you want to get them a sofa tell them you’ll take them out to Costco, Amazon, ikea, and compare the best ones. They are also very clean and efficient.

Libra Venus/ 7H Venus

Trending Make up like the fenty hot chocolit heat lip gloss, Korean skincare products, beautiful piece of art, a wedding ring 😏, bouquet of flowers, take them to a beautiful botanical garden, fashionable accessories like a silk scarf, books and courses on design, take them to a couples romantic date, a couples workshop, write them a love letter, museum date, tickets to an art exhibition, fine dining, an astrology synastry reading, if they’re single set up a blind date with someone who you KNOW they would like (make sure they’re handsome/pretty), couples retreat, love coach Patreon subscription, pottery/painting classes, relationship podcast subscription, relationship psychology books, fine fragrance/cologne

Libra is ruled by Venus and 7th house, all things related to love beauty and pleasure align with this native, even if they are single they have a natural gift for delving into relationships. Make sure that whatever gift you give them it is pleasing and sensual

Scorpio/ 8H Venus

Intimate gifts, a psychological crime documentary playlist like Epstein island documentary or YouTubers who speak of renowned cult leaders, personalised astrology reading, a dark seductive fragrance, dark artwork, dominance and submission guide book, shadow work journal with a lock on it, dark poetry and literature, escape room adventure tickets, monopoly game, dungeons and dragons game equipment, bdsm accessories, personalised erotic art, leather/latex clothing, bonding activities, empowering books like 48 Laws of Power, martial arts training, taxidermy, personal development workshops, intense workout equipment like a punching bag, chess, daggers, locks on their door or for their belongings like installing a lock for their drawers, buy them a ring camera and subscription, wine tasting experience

Give them something sultry and deep, it has to be psychological and empowering. They are not impressed by superficial gifts that mean nothing to them. They really like gifts that allow them to explore their nature and the darker aspects of existence.

Sagittarius/ 9H Venus

A scratch off map that allows you to scratch off countries you’ve been to, a surprise holiday where you take them abroad, Duolingo subscription, a wanderlust journal for them to document their experiences, passport accessories, an electric guitar, drums, take them to a fireworks display or do one at home for them, a telescope, a drone, binoculars, philosophical books or religious books based on their own beliefs and religion, running shoes, horse riding in the sunset experience, musical instruments, motivational and positive affirmations book or make some for them yourself, a book collection of all their motivational and positive messages they have said, a compass, pay for their tuition for a course they’ve always wanted, traveling stuff like suitcases, pillow for travelling, a portable flask, a disposable camera, a Polaroid camera, a tent, tickets to a cultural festival, hiking gear, skiing gear, camping gear, sketchbook, a donation in their name

Sagittarius Venus and 9H venuses love the concept of exploration whether it be in the mind or physically, the best gift you could give them is one that allows them to take in so much culture, information and experiences.

Capricorn/ 10H Venus

Customisable credit card (CUCU is a good site for this), a nice power suit like business attire, vintage pocket calculator, cufflinks or a tie, formal shoes, pay for their CV to be analysed by professionals in their industry, elegant timeless clothing and jewellery, make them business cards, get them a corporate slave (an assistant will do), pay for business class flights for their next trip abroad, project management courses, tickets to Ted Talk event, take them to and big them up at networking and entrepreneurial opportunities, a sleek desk, submit their work for trophies and awards, quality furniture, Starbucks or their fave coffee place gift cards, a fountain pen, personalised desk name plate, professional photoshoot, designer accessories like a Swiss watch, leather wallet, cheque book, pay for a professional calligrapher to design their signature, time management software

Our sweet cap Venuses and 10Hers need their professional acknowledgment, give them anything timeless and a way for them to better themselves. They love being the best of the best so give them things that support their ambitions.

Aquarius/ 11H Venus

A 3D printer, high tech phone, a gamer console, smart home device like Alexa, chat gpt subscription, AI art pieces of them, rubix cube, VR headset, bespoke one of a kind art piece, tickets to a science technology conference or musem, networking events, phone case, futuristic home decor, membership to an niche club their interested in, mini indoor garden like a plant terrarium, pay for an astronomy stargazing experience for them, alt clothing, goal setting journal, a camaraderie for their friendships can be a bracelet for an example, tickets to a unique workshop according to their niche interests, video editing software, a unique invention prototype for the industry their interested in say if it were cars then a mini Tesla or something, volunteer together, design software, film festival tickets, social cause merchandise, unique fashion piece, astronomy kit, an AI boyfriend or girlfriend, take them a Ted talk.

Always remember the specific niche interests of these natives they like things that are very niche and so sometimes asking them is actually the best thing to do. But make sure it’s something they’re passionate about not all of these natives live tech but they certainly are innovative.

Pisces/ 12H Venus

Seashell necklace, watercolour paints, fantasy book collection, their favourite mangas, handmade artwork, stained glass window art, dream interpretation book, flowerpedia book, vinyls, yoga mat, contact lenses, tickets to their favourite artist like mitski or the sort, create a playlist for them that’s about fantasy and imagination, they might like Disney consider taking them to Disneyland, windchime, subscription to mindfulness app, astrology book, go to the aquarium together, windchimes, art supplies, a dream journal, sound healing instruments, pay for their spiritual retreat, zen garden decor, a mystical music box, water fountain, take them to a mesmerising body of water, prayer mats, diary, write them a heartfelt letter of how amazing they are, take them to a nature retreat, wearable art

Dreamy imaginative gifts would be perfect for these people, they need gifts that allow them to appreciate their escape world where they have a reality that’s just better than here. Give them things that are as beautiful as their inner world.

[foldingfittedsheets]

One of my earlier jobs in life was at a little pizza place. I worked there when it was first starting up. It’s the only job I’ve ever been fired from and it was because a new manager came in and cleaned house. Because my state requires a reason to be fired he said I used too much pepperoni. So now on job applications I get to write that I was fired for “excessive use of pepperoni.” Never fails to get a laugh.

Anyway! For this story to make sense I’ve first got to set the stage. This pizza place started out as the Wild West of management but one of the original investors was super committed to work programs through the prison. We hired a ton of ex convicts and they were all, to a one, super hyped on Christianity. Like born again for the sole purpose of lauding Christ with their every breath.

I hadn’t been working there long but I’d definitely noticed the Jesus bug had gone around, and as I’ve never been religious at all I tried to steer clear of the topic for my own safety.

The day our story takes place, I was folding boxes. Anyone whose ever worked pizza can attest, there’s so much box folding. It’s something that happens at every lull, the pizza machine demands box folding on a grand and epic scale.

On my right folding his stack of boxes was a guy wider than he was tall, made of pure muscle, Corey. He was newer on staff, and due to a stutter he didn’t talk much. All I knew about him was that he got hired through the rehabilitation program and had done time.

On my left folding was a tall middle-aged woman who loved to yell at me, Cindy. She and I rubbed each other the wrong way and had nothing in common, leading to a tense working relationship.

We folded boxes in silence. This was really my best case scenario as a quiet Cindy was a Cindy not riding my ass, and Corey intimidated me.

But the weight of the silence grew too much for Cindy, who finally said, “I really want to go to bible school.”

I folded a box. I had less than no idea what bible school even was and I didn’t want to get sucked into a religious topic.

On my right Corey said, “W-why, Cindy?”

“Well, cause I believe what’s in the Bible, but I just don’t know it all.”

He nodded sagely to this.

Cindy continued, “And every time I sit down to read the Bible I get real sleepy. And I know it’s the devil.”

It’s so hard to convey her tone in written format. It was delivered with the emphasis and exasperation of an inevitable inconvenience. Like, I just know it’s the squirrels eating the bird seed.

I froze in place at this pronouncement. My only exposure to Lucifer was Neil Gaiman’s Sandman comics and I was trying to mentally twist into a frame of mind where The Morningstar cared enough about this one middle aged lady expanding her knowledge of the Bible that he followed her around cursing her with sleepiness when she picked it up.

I think I expected Corey to say, “Well that’s silly,” or something to acknowledge what a bizarre thing Cindy had just said.

Instead he said, “Yeah!” In a tone of complete agreement.

I didn’t look up. I tried to keep my face neutral at this development.

But something must have shown. Corey said, “You don’t believe in God?”

I shrugged casually and said, “If I did I wouldn’t talk about it at work.”

“C-cause it’s t-true. If y-you t-ry to r-read the B-bible on unsanctif-fied gr-round the d-devil m-makes you s-sleepy!”

I made a noncommittal sound and fled into the back room.

Over the next week it drove me crazy though. The logic of it wouldn’t leave me alone so finally one day when it was just Corey and I in front, and the restaurant was empty, I said, “Hey man, I have a question.”

He shrugged and listened.

“I really don’t mean this with any disrespect, I just genuinely want to know about the logistics-“

“J-ust ask.”

“Okay, so if Cindy gets tired when she reads any book, is it only the devil making her tired when it’s the Bible?”

His face went purple with fury and he yelled, “F-fuck you!” at my retreating back as I fled once more into the back room.

It will forever remain a mystery.

[allfryam]

the office part 2

Jason was loving his new job. All of the people were great, he barely did any work, and he was never hungry. Speaking of hungry, it was lunchtime and him and Connor were going down to the food court. Jason ordered 3 double cheeseburgers, a large shake, a side of Mac and cheese, and some fries. “Do you want anything?” He asked Connor.

after gorging on enough food to feed a family of three, Jason leaned back in his chair, revealing a sliver of his smooth belly under his shirt. Jason had gained over 25 pounds in the first month working at the office. He had yet to notice because he was convinced he was still perfectly in shape. He tugged his shirt back over his belly and let out a big burp. “I think these shirts shrink after a bit.” He said. “Yeah. Same happened to mine.” Said Connor. “You should come over to my place later.” Connor said. He explained the new x-box game he just got to Jason. Jason wasn’t all that interested until Connor mentioned pizza. “I’ll be there at 6.”

arriving at Connor’s apartment, Jason noticed 6 large pizzas sitting on the counter. His mouth was already watering. They sat down to play the new game and dig into the pizzas. Connor had easily eaten the first pizza, but he was struggling on the second one. “Man I’m full”. He said. “Oh well. More for me” Jason quickly grabbed the box and grabbed two slices at a time, one in each hand, guzzling down the slices as fast as he could. He was like a machine. He didn’t even slow down until after he finished the third box. He hated wasting food so he kept eating but it wasn’t easy. He got another few slices in before he had to take a break. “Yo do you care if I take my shirt off? It’s kinda hot in here”. “Ya sure man”. Jason took off his skin tight shirt and revealed his tight stomach. It was round and soft and sat just on top of his belt. His chiseled pecs were growing softer too. They began to sag and get bigger they were almost all the way to his belly. He took off his belt and unbuttoned his tight pants. His growing gut surged forward with a groan. “Fuuuuucckk”. “That feels so much better”. He burped and grabbed another slice of pizza.

by the end of the night, there were still 5 or 6 slices of pizza left but both boys were stuffed. “Dude I think I can eat them but I need help”. Jason said. “help?” “ yeah. Just help me eat these.” “Ok.”

Connor grabbed a slice and walked over to Jason. Jason leaned back and closed his eyes. Connor shoved the slice into Jason’s mouth as far as he could. Jason mindlessly chewed and groaned as he ate. Connor continued the cycle until there was one slice left. Jason’s belly was taut and red. It looked like a balloon that was inflated too much. “Uuuugghhh” Jason moaned. But Connor didn’t stop. He stuffed the last piece into Jason’s mouth and forced him to chew. After what seemed like hours, Jason finally swallowed and finished the pizza. He had eaten four and a half LARGE pizzas all by himself. He promptly passed out on Connors couch with his stomach grumbling in pain.

A very similar routine would occur for the next month and Jason loved it. He got to steal some delicious donuts from the break room, have an enormous lunch with Connor and then go back to Connor’s place and play video games and eat some more takeout. Jason’s frame was quickly expanding, and he had no clue. He had started to notice a few changes however. He couldn’t fit into his work pants anymore so he would leave them unbuttoned and hire it under his shirt. He had gone through three sizes of shirts since he got the job, but he still believed his dryer was shrinking them. Jason had no idea he was over 50 pounds heavier than he was just a few months ago, and Connor liked it that way.

[aethon-recs]

Themed Rec List | 16 Sex Work Tomarrymort Recs 🍑💸

After coming across a couple of sexy amazing stripper/camboy/sex worker Tomarry fics recently, I went looking for more fics along this theme 🤍 See below for a list of recs for all the other horny sickos out there who really enjoy reading about Tom or Harry leveraging their physical assets for pleasure or money or sometimes even reconnaissance, 8 of each:

*

Sex Worker Tom

A Slice of Heaven by jellybeantarot (M, 3k, complete)

Tom is a sex worker under an agency that masks as a pizzeria, Harry orders a large sausage pizza, and yep, that's a dick in a pizza box.

After Class by osculatrix (E, 5k, complete)

Professor Potter discovers that her star student is a camstar, and what does she do? Jack off and give him money, that's what.

cam and get it by @swoontodeath (E, 3k, WIP)

Harry Potter isn't one for pornography. He's got a perfectly adequate imagination, thank you very much, not to mention a fully functional right hand. One accidental glimpse of Tom Riddle's arse, though, threatens to change everything.

champagne shimmer by @cindle-writes (E, 21k, complete) 

Tom has one of the most popular accounts on OnlyFans. Harry, who is Tom’s uni professor, stumbles onto Tom’s stream by accident. Featuring: Spoiled brat Tom, and Harry trying to be as much of a gentleman as he can despite lusting after his barely-legal student.

Corruptible by @hiredhorse (E, 4k, WIP)

Harry Potter goes to Knockturn Alley for a prostitute, under a flawless glamour. When he sees a handsome young man outside the tavern infamous for picking up prostitutes, he hires him before he even asks his price. Tom Riddle isn’t really a prostitute, he was just making a delivery for his employer, Borgin & Burke’s. But Tom has never been one to miss an opportunity, and he sees Harry Potter for exactly who he is.

down to get the friction on by @xodahafez (E, 8k, complete)

Harry follows Tom to Albania, fully expecting to find him up to no good. What he wasn't expecting, however, was to find Tom Riddle dressed in lacy black lingerie, and better known as 'Voldamour.'

Oh my god, they were nemeses by Baryshnikov (T, 13k, WIP)

Tom starts an OnlyFans to recruit for his cult; Harry, his flatmate, has incredibly mixed feelings about it.

That's Money, Honey by @dividawrites, @duplicitywrites (E, 10k, complete)

Tom is a dear friend to many beautiful older women who love to treat him like their beloved son by spoiling him with presents. It is the perfect gateway to the perfect lifestyle—one full of frequent spa days, free holidays abroad, and all of the latest fashions. When Auror Harry Potter claims to be investigating Tom's 'inappropriate' relationships, Tom decides the best course of action is to instigate some 'inappropriate' behaviour of his own.

*

Sex Worker Harry

Cam for the Money, Stayed for the Fun  (part 1) / Cam and Get Me, Won't You Honey? (part 2) by @itsevanffs (E, 12k, complete)

Harry flushed, looking back down. 'Isn't this illegal, sir?' Professor Riddle smirked, leaning back on the couch. 'I'd beg to say what you do isn't very legal, either.'

Dark Adrenaline by @katsitting (E, 10k, complete)

Riddle was a snake—definitely. A conniving man that forced people into corners simply because he wanted to see if he could. He cared little for the feelings of others, using them just as he was using Harry to attract the attention of the political socialites in the Gala. Harry had suspected there was a far more hidden game at play when he had been in the hotel with him earlier, having caught that Riddle had set his machinations on him rather than on prominent figures in the hall. But how the bloody hell was he supposed to know it would end up like this?

Make Me An Offer I Cannot Refuse by lemonchase (E, 3k, complete) 

“I’d like to hire you for a blowjob.” Harry nods slowly, ignoring his increasing heart rate. If he does a good job, Tom might become a regular customer, and Harry is always on the lookout for those. With how rich Tom allegedly is, he should be able to afford to pay Harry every other day. This is a chance he doesn’t get often.

Night Walker by @syntheticsoulmates (E, 3k, complete)

Harry knocked on the door only two minutes late. Which was an achievement for him. He had his smile fixed before the door even swung open. “You’re not who I ordered.”  Ugh. Rude. Harry kept smiling, perfect. “No. Emergency substitution.” He looked down, traced the client up from the tips of his perfectly overshined leather loafers to the one ridiculous perfect curl falling over his forehead on the left side. He made it obvious, finished it up with a small bite on his lower lip. “You’re lucky enough to get me instead.”

Ride by @hiredhorse (E, 123k, WIP)

Harry lives with the Dursleys, but he has two best friends, a regular bunk at the Weasleys', and a bright future riding horses. It’s unclear whether crossing paths with Tom Riddle, super-rich kid and a skilled horseman himself, is good luck or bad. They crash together on the day they meet with a violent combination of mutual lust and personality conflicts. And yet somehow instead of hating each other they develop different feelings, no less intense.

Secrets of a Wixen Call Boy by @milkandmoon-ao3 (E, 12k, complete)

Echoing in the darkest recess of his mind, Harry heard Hermione lecture on his father complex. How, having never known his own father, he tended to fixate on older men... subsequently resulting in some pretty questionable romantic partners. Really, Harry couldn’t think of a good reason not to fuck or be fucked by them.

Shiver, Lustre, Skin by @monsieurclavier (M, 9k, WIP)

Harry goes undercover as a bargirl at one of Tom Riddle’s exclusive clubs. Tom has her figured out in approximately one second. Or: In which Tom is a badass Wizarding mob boss and an incorrigible lesbian flirt, and Harry—sassy newbie Auror and secret virgin—is just Tom’s type.

Twelve Weeks by @ohyondermemphis (M, 12k, WIP)

“Stand up.” Harry blinks, confused but immediately stands at the request. “Place your hands, flat, to the desk.” Indignation blooms bright in his cheeks, but he swallows, does as he’s told. Thinks with vitriol, prick. “See? Easy.” A bright smile, full white teeth. Riddle leans closer to Harry, his hand traces the curve of his face, the line of his jaw. Harry doesn’t blink. “I knew you could be a good boy.”

*

[zepskies]

Strong as Blood - Part 2

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: After you accidentally break through a solid wood table, you know there’s something wrong with you. You begin to have your suspicions, but can you keep it from Ben long enough to find out? 

(In other words: This is the story of how you and Ben discover that you’re pregnant.)

AN: Did you like Part 1? Well, here's Part 2! This two-part fic can be read as stand-alone, but it’s really a bonus sequel to Break Me Down!

(Also, for those of you in the medical field…try to suspend your disbelief on this one. 😅)

Word Count: 6,200

Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff overload.

To find the chronological reading order for the series, check out the series masterlist. ⤵️

💚 Break Me Down

Part 2: “One Year, Forty, and a Hundred”

About a week later, you and Ben told your family the good news.

Your mom, Marie, took Ben’s face in her hands and pressed a delighted motherly kiss on his cheek, and then his forehead.

He very narrowly tolerated it with his usual gruffness, but you knew better. You saw the fond glint well hidden in his eyes, even after Marie released him.

It hadn’t taken her long after meeting Ben to start treating him like a son; always asking about his missions with Supe Affairs, praising a job well done when he had a successful report, and offering a supportive word even when they didn’t quite go his way.

Ben maintained his usual stoic bravado, but you knew he secretly ate up the praise, along with Marie’s genuine, nurturing nature.

Every time you saw your mother, she would give you baked goods in tupperware—for both of you, she claimed. But you noticed they were most often his favorites. You had a feeling she’d won him over early on with her macadamia nut brownies. (She still couldn’t cook worth a damn either, but she’d been taking a baking class.)

So Ben continued to help her do the dishes, even though she insisted he was a guest in her home. He claimed he was doing it so you wouldn’t jump in yourself.

And now we’re family, you had pointed out. Then Ben gifted you with one of those smiles, subtle and pleased, just for you.

You felt somewhat lazy, just sitting at the kitchen table with your sister Luisa. She sat close to you with her arm looped around yours, and she rubbed your lower back, which you now realized had been aching more often. For God’s sake, you hadn’t even realized you were late on your period.

I need to take some time off work, even before this kid gets here, you mused.

Realistically though, you should’ve expected this might happen. You hadn’t ever gotten around to replacing your IUD after you’d gotten it removed a few months ago. And God knew, Ben didn’t know how to pull out. (And he certainly didn’t buy condoms.)

“What’re you hoping for, a boy or a girl?” Louisa asked you and Ben, disrupting the path of your thoughts. You turned to your sister thoughtfully.

She still had her reservations about him, but she seemed to be warming up to your boyfriend a bit more after you told her the news. Especially after Ben had explained one of his plans over dinner.

His first thought was to hire Frank and Loco back as your personal security throughout your pregnancy, and likely even afterwards.

It was a rare time when you didn’t argue with him; the idea made sense, especially if you were going to continue working in Surveillance at Supe Affairs until you went on maternity leave. And, it would just be great to see them again. Frank had already agreed to start on Monday, after giving his polite congratulations.

(You and Ben each got a package in the mail yesterday: a box of bonafide Cuban cigars for him, a maternity body pillow for you, and a hand-crafted toy box for the baby. Inside had been a white noise sound machine to help the baby sleep.)

But now, Ben brightened at Louisa’s question. He crossed his arms and leaned against the kitchen counter.

“A son,” he replied. How brow rose, as if the answer was obvious. “I’ll be able to bring him up right. Strong. Not like these beanie-wearing pussies running the fucking Starbucks.”

“Ben,” you warned. He crossed his arms at you, quite literally standing firm on his stance. But your mother just smiled and pat his arm.

“It’s okay, honey,” she said. “I understand what you mean.”

You raised an incredulous brow.

Oh sure, you thought. She didn’t mind salty language when it was Ben, but God forbid you or Luisa bang a toe in your mother’s presence. Nor did it surprise you that she was agreeing with him.

But then Marie turned to him more earnestly.

“The way you take care of my daughter, I have no doubt you’ll make an excellent father,” she told him.

Ben treated her with a charming smile that showed touches of warmth.

Damn, you thought, as you felt the telltale burn of tears in your eyes. But it wasn’t just about what Marie had said. You had hoped for this one day, but it seemed he was finally making room for your family in his heart too.

“Football. A man’s game,” Ben continued. “I’ll teach him, take him fishing. Everything my old man didn’t bother with, I’ll do it all. Bring him up right…”

As your boyfriend chatted away with your mom, you hid a tendril of worry. You wondered what would happen if the baby turned out to be a girl.

With a glance at your sister, her subtle, raised brows told you she was thinking along the same lines. You sighed and got up; once again, it was time to pee.

Louisa followed you into the hall and laid a hand on your back.

“Hey,” she said. “You know how much I care about you, right?”

“And where’s this going?” you quipped. But you turned around and gave your little sister a half-smile. You knew what she was about to say.

“So what are you going to do about that?” she asked, gesturing to your man in the kitchen. “Mr. Macho wants his prized stud. What happens if he doesn’t get him?”

You sighed. “Ben’s wanted this for a long time. He’s got an idea in his head of what it’s going to be like, and…we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

Louisa’s lips pursed, like she wasn’t quite satisfied with that answer.

“And what about you?” she asked. “How do you feel about this?”

You blinked back at her in slight surprise, but then your expression melted into a soft smile.

“I’m happy, Lou,” you said. Tears welled up in your eyes, yet again. “I’m really happy.” 

Louisa relented then, squeezing your hand. “Good…then good. I’m happy for you too.”

And that was really all you wanted.

“What? You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Ben said, peering harder at the ultrasound. The kind OBGYN faltered, though she again tried to point out that what he was looking at was actually a small foot.

“Congratulations,” she told you both. “She’s the right size for twelve weeks of development. And look there, you can even see the umbilical cord—”

“You sure this thing isn’t on the fritz?” Ben asked, bumping the ultrasound monitor with his hand.

“Ben.” You looked over at him with a glare. “Are you serious right now?”

He looked back over at you, and you saw his stubbornness in his frown and knitted brows.

“I’m just saying—” he started, but you didn’t let him get that far.

“You heard the freakin’ doctor. We’re having a girl,” you snapped. “I’m the one who has the transvaginal probe shoved up inside me, so shut the fuck up!”

Ben’s jaw worked as he barely held himself from barking back at you. It wouldn’t be the first time you levied your smart mouth at him, but it wasn’t often that you disrespected him.

“Excuse me?” he still groused.

His anger got waylaid though. He watched you heave a sigh and blink quickly, so you wouldn’t release the well of frustrated tears building behind your eyes.

The doctor looked between you both warily. You turned to her with watery eyes, and you sniffed to keep your emotions at bay.

“Continue, please.”

When the appointment with the OBGYN was done, you didn’t let Ben help you down from the examining table. Nor did you let him touch you, all the way to the car.

An hour later, you both made it back to the apartment you shared in Scarsdale. You stomped up the stairs ahead of him and beelined into the bedroom. You had half a mind to slam the door in his face, but you didn’t have the energy to be that petty.

Frankly, you were exhausted with a tinge of nausea. But you didn’t know if that was pregnancy sickness, or if you were just that anxious.

You sat down on your side of the bed, and you sighed when you heard Ben’s heavy footsteps enter in behind you.

“All right, that could’ve gone better,” he said. “But look at it from my point of view—”

That nearly unhinged you. Your stomach roiled, but you got to your feet and turned around to face him where he stood by the foot of the bed, arms crossed.

“It’s not all about you,” you shot back. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the one carrying this baby. I’m not just a human incubator.”

“I fucking know that,” he retorted, but you raised a hand to silence him.

“And you’re not the only one who’s wanted this,” you said. Against your will, your eyes once again burned with tears as you held yourself. “You know very well what I’ve…that I didn’t have a normal family growing up.”

Ben quieted. His irritation softened around the edges, especially as your voice trembled.

“Don’t you know what it’s going to mean to me to give our child what I didn’t have?” you asked. “Stability, support, and…and love, from both parents?”

Tears slipped down your cheeks. And when he didn’t seem to have anything to say to you, you shook your head and walked away.

Ben let out a heavy breath. He followed you and stopped you in the living room. “Listen—”

“No, you listen,” you snapped, whirling around on him. “I would’ve been content no matter if it was a boy or a girl, and you ruined that today. You really did.”

His gaze briefly fell to the floor, before it met yours again.

“But even with that, I’m still happy,” you said, as your vision became blurry and wet. “I’m so damn happy…and so scared.”

When you finally broke down crying, Ben got a full picture of just how badly he’d fucked this up. He collected you in his arms and guided you to sit with him on the couch. There he held you as you clung to him and wept into his neck.

The longer it went on, the more he felt like an asshole—with the kind of uncomfortable, gut-churning remorse that only you tended to draw from him.

Ben hesitated, but he knew you deserved to hear him say it. (And you probably wouldn’t let this go until he did.)

“Okay, sweetheart, calm down,” he rumbled in your ear. Along with, "…I’m sorry."

The weight of that fell between you for a moment. You nodded, with a sniff, and he slowly rubbed your back.

“You don’t need to be scared,” he said. “My blood’s making you nice and strong.”

Well, technically it was the baby’s blood, and the super genes they held. You shook your head against his neck.

“That’s not it,” you said. “I mean, that’s part of it, I guess. Dr. Baker didn’t do a great job of reassuring me, but she did say that if the strength lasts throughout the birth, she didn’t expect serious complications.”

Fuck. Ben’s hand tightened in your hair. That...was a thought he hadn't considered. It now made his stomach clench, though he remained silent.

He wished you would’ve taken him with you to see Dr. Baker, but he guessed he couldn’t begrudge you for your worries. He knew he'd be having his own talk with the good doctor soon enough.

“I love my mom. She did her best, you know? But I…I’ve had to take care of myself for most of my life,” you explained, with a hand fisted tight in his shirt. “What the hell do I know about being a mom?”

Ben considered that with a frown. He pulled back enough to see your face, tucking his curled fingers beneath your chin so you’d look at him.

“You looked after your sister, didn’t you?” he reminded. “Made sure she was safe, and grew up right. Now you take care of me, like I take care of you… And you got no problem calling me out on my bullshit.”

That got a slight smile out of you. He brushed away another one of your tears with his thumb.

“You’re gonna be great, sweetheart. I never had any doubts about that,” he said, “The truth is, I couldn’t wait to fuck you raw to make this happen.”

You spluttered a laugh then, even though you were still weeping.

“Yeah, I know,” you said with a wry smile, stroking his bearded cheek. You leaned up and kissed the other cheek. He turned his head and went for your lips. The kiss was slow and tender while he held you where you always felt safe.

Ben grasped the hand on his cheek…and an idea flickered through his mind.

He parted from you, only to say, “Wait here.”

Your brows furrowed, and you blinked through wet lashes. “What?”

“Just stay put for me,” he said.

But he didn’t tell you what he was up to as he left you on the couch to duck into the bedroom. You took the time to wipe at your eyes and take some deep, calming breaths.

Ben came back soon after, seemingly empty-handed as he sat down next to you. You gave him a curious look.

He slipped a hand into his pocket. “Just for the record, I’ve had this for a while.”

And he pulled a black velvet box out of his pocket. You let out a shaky breath of surprise. The ring he pulled out wasn’t a flashy, gaudy thing like you half-expected. It actually looked delicate, and vintage, pale gold with filigree around the hexagonal stone. It glittered, even in the dim lamplight. 

“Where’d you find that?” you asked. But somehow, looking into his eyes, you knew what this was. 

“Besides those old pictures, the only thing I’ve got left of my mother is right here,” he said, holding up the ring for you. More burgeoning tears fell down your cheeks as your heart constricted. 

“Marry me,” he said, rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand. 

Despite yourself, a smile raised the corner of your mouth. “Hmm, I don’t know. Is that a question?”

Ben released a breath. Reluctantly, he smirked.

“Fucking figures that you’d make this difficult,” he said.

“You’re the one who fumbled at the goal line, Romeo,” you replied cheekily.

You then gestured at the ground in front of you. He raised a brow.

But, he obliged your demands, making a show of sliding from the couch, down to the ground. He parted your jean-clad knees so he could move in between them. He knelt one knee on the hard wood, and once again took your hand.

Ben somehow hesitated on the question, even though you both were hanging on his words. With your free hand, you smoothed his hair away from his eyes, subtly encouraging him. 

“If I had to go back, do it all over again,” he said, “I wouldn’t have done a damn thing different.”

You frowned at him. “Really?”

“That’s right,” he said. “Because I’m right where I want to be.”

You teared up all over again when you realized what he was really saying. You laid a hand on his chest, where his fiercest power resided. He squeezed the hand he held. 

“So what’s it gonna be, sweetheart. Will you marry me?” Ben asked. His smirk was almost boyish, despite his age. And yet, it was so very him.

You reached out with your free hand and slid your fingers through his hair, resting it at the back of his neck.  

“Yeah,” you agreed, with a beaming smile. “Let’s do it.”

He slipped the ring on your finger, where it fit well. And it was now the most beautiful thing you owned, not only for its shining beauty.

You pulled him in for a kiss. His hands burned up your thighs, squeezing your hips. But again, he hesitated. His lips pulled away from yours as his hand moved to brush your belly. It was already brimming with life. He’d seen the images, heard the heartbeat.  

“Thank you,” Ben said. His voice was deep and gruff.

You smiled. With a nod, you held him to you, laying a sweet path of kisses from his cheek, down to his neck.

“I love you,” you said.

He just nodded in response. His throat was tight at the moment. But you wouldn’t let him get off that easy.

“Say it,” you jostled him in your arms. “I’m only growing a super melon for you.” 

It earned you an amused look from him. 

“I love you too,” he said. His voice was a bit coarse, and laden with rare emotion. You pulled him into a stronger hug, which soon became him dragging you into his lap when he raised himself up onto to the couch. You took his face in your hands. 

“See? We made it here,” you teased. You knew he remembered the conversation you two had a few months ago, about waiting a little while to take this next step in your relationship. To have a family.  

“Soon. Not someday,” he’d told you. And you’d agreed.

You reminded him of it now while you stroked his face. “I promised you, didn’t I?”

He snorted at that. “You sure took your fucking time with that one, huh?”

“Excuse me?” you retorted.

Ben pulled you into a kiss before you could truly get going. Arguing with him was one of the things you did best.

But what you two ended up doing on the couch was second to none.  

A few months later…

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Ben said. His tone was edged, his brows crunching. “What kind of development?”

You curled a hand around his wrist, shooting him a calming look before you returned your attention to Dr. Baker.

“What do you mean, Tonya?” you asked. Your other hand continued to rest over your belly.

At the seven-month mark of your pregnancy, you felt like you were beginning to resemble a parade float as you sat on the medical examining table in the doctor’s office. But you were grateful for Ben’s warm hand spanning the small of your back. It gave you stability as a coil of anxiety began to bloom in your chest.

Dr. Baker reviewed her charts once more. You didn’t like that gleam of scientific interest in her eye while she perused the data, then looked up at you and Ben from her narrow-framed glasses.

“Not with the baby. She’s doing very well,” she said.

That gave you a measure of immense relief.

“The development concerns you,” she clarified, meeting your gaze. “As you know, we’ve been monitoring you very closely.”

You nodded. The weekly checkups and monthly blood panels served to both soothe and increase your anxiety, but you knew that it made Ben feel better, that you were being taken care of in this aspect of your pregnancy.

To government knowledge, no one other than Becca Butcher had ever gone through a pregnancy of this nature. And Homelander had been created in a lab. This was breaking somewhat new ground (which was only in the top five of “things that made you nervous.”)

“I found something…interesting in your bloodwork,” said Dr. Baker. She pulled out two charts from her files and clipped them onto her whiteboard for you and Ben to see. They looked virtually the same, with one graph’s red bars slightly lower than the first.

“What’s that?” Ben asked.

“It’s your wife’s cell regeneration levels,” the doctor replied, pointing to the second graph. “Hers have become almost as high as yours.”

She pointed to the first graph for comparison. You leaned in closer to see as your eyes widened. With the weight of your belly making you off balance, you nearly slid off the examining table. Ben noticed and caught you quick. His arms came around you, though as the news donned on him, his face slid into shock.

“What?” he uttered.

“That’s got to be because of the baby,” you reasoned. “Is it…just temporary? Like the super strength.”

Even that was somewhat intermittent. Some days, you felt your aches and pains and experienced morning sickness and food aversions, like any other pregnant woman. On others, you were able to lift one side of the couch one-handed and vacuum up the dust bunnies underneath it.

“I believe that blood transfusion, as well as your pregnancy greatly accelerated the effects, but no, this isn’t an isolated incident.” Dr. Baker shook her head. “Your DNA has mutated.”

“Are you serious?” you nearly choked out. She nodded. Dr. Baker never joked.

“By my calculations, this process started before you conceived. Over the course of the past year, or more,” she explained. “Do you understand what this means?”

“Y-Yes, I think so,” you said. Your hand squeezed over Ben’s; it was the hand that carried the weight of your gold wedding bands. A lump of emotion rose in your throat. “It means…I’m going to heal from injuries quicker than normal. And…I’m not going to age like a normal person.”

“That’s likely correct,” she replied.  

That news fell in the room like a stone. You shared a wide-eyed look with Ben. Neither of you knew quite what to think just yet. Even though he was trying to maintain an even-keel expression, you could see his eyes were beginning to brighten with hope. Yours were too…though you were still confused.

“How the hell is this possible?” you asked. “I mean, Ben gave me his blood for a transfusion. But like you said, that was one time, two years ago now. And you said the pregnancy accelerated this, but that’s not how it started…”

Dr. Baker actually smiled. You didn’t like the wry turn of her lips. She crossed her legs where she sat at her desk and tapped her clipboard with her pen.

“How often would you say you two have sex?” she asked.

That was certainly not where you thought this conversation was going. You couldn’t help but blush.

“How is that even remotely relevant?” you asked.

You glanced at your husband, who merely gave you one of his smug smirks, while his thumb stroked your side. Fucking typical. 

“Once a week?” the doctor prompted.

Your face heated up further, and you had to cover your mouth with a hand. Your sex life wasn’t quite as…vivacious as it had been since before you’d gotten pregnant, but it was still a good one, even with your growing size. Ben was nothing if not creative.  

And you were still newlyweds, after all.

“Assume we’re doing a healthy amount of fucking, doc,” Ben remarked.

You gasped and hit his thigh, and finally covered your whole face in thorough embarrassment. He just smirked and took your hand so you couldn’t hide. It amused him that you still got like this.

He then pressed a kiss to the back of your fingers.

You sighed and held his hand back. I chose this man. Remember that.

“Again, what does that have to with this?” you asked, your voice a bit higher.

Dr. Baker’s lips flickered at another one of those smiles. “Well, how often did you use condoms over the past two years?”

You and Ben both snorted in response.

“He’s morally opposed to them, doctor,” you said dryly.

She nodded. “I assumed as much.”

Once again, Ben smirked, but Dr. Baker plowed ahead.

“Let me explain it this way,” she said. “Think of how HIV spreads sexually. The infected DNA is transmitted, and it eventually hits the partner’s bloodstream, affecting the entire body. What we have here is a similar case…if for the fact that this was a gradual effect, over the course of several months.”

Ben blinked, and a frown also tugged down his brows.

“Are you saying that I gave her my superpowers…like an STD?” he asked.

Your eyes became as wide as saucers.

Holy shit! you thought, and another one occurred to you. If this all started from the first time you and Ben ever had sex…then that was over two years of being dosed with literal super sperm.

“Not quite,” Dr. Baker said to him. “Just the essence of what sets your DNA apart, even from other supes.”

“Right. Because how the hell hasn’t this happened to anyone else who’s normal?” you asked. “What makes Ben different?”

Dr. Baker finally set down her pen. She folded her hands in her lap to address you with a patience that you didn’t often see from her.

“Remember, the serum he received was still a prototype,” she said. “Vought continued to refine the recipe after the ‘Soldier Boy’ project was successful. For example, the way his cells regenerate is one of those factors that needed to be weeded out, if Compound V was to be a successful product in the long-term.”

You nodded slowly, as that made sense to you. If every supe suddenly lived over a hundred years, it would make it pretty hard to secretly inject that shit into newborns. They had to package it in a more insidious way.

“This is an unpredictable outcome of your exposure to his unique genetic makeup,” Dr. Baker continued, “and there may very well be more to come in the future.”

You weren’t sure how to take that potentially foreboding news, but on the other hand…

“Oh my God! I’m going to live to be a hundred,” you said, holding tighter onto Ben as shock began to make you tremble. His grip was firm and steadying in response. And yet, his face betrayed how he was trying to process this as well.

“Likely much longer than that,” Dr. Baker said, shocking you even further. And she reminded, “Your cells aren’t regenerating at quite the same rate as his…but it is close.”

Again, holy fucking shit.

You let out a halting breath, and you looked up at Ben, a smile growing across your face. You reached up a hand for his bearded cheek. He looked down on you with his usual stoicism, but it was merely a front. You saw through to the true emotions shining in his eyes.

“Well, looks like you’re stuck with me, baby,” you said, even as your own eyes stung with tears. Your heart felt full to the brim, and even overflowing. If this was what it took to be with your husband, then altering your genetics was a price you were willing to pay…at least in this way.

Though you gave him a more teasing smile. “You’re not gonna be able to welch out of that ‘til death do us part thing. So cancel the caravan of blow and strippers.”

Ben chuckled deeply. He held your hand and stroked the inside of your wrist. For a moment, he just looked down at your face. It had become a bit more rounded with your pregnancy—thighs and arms (and ass) thicker too. And to him, you were still perfectly his.  

“Fine by me. You’ve got something they don’t, anyway,” he said. He remembered the same words he’d said to you just a year ago, in the bed he still shared with you.

Your eyes gleamed with amusement, and so much more. You played along.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” you asked.

He smirked. “You’ve got a supe STD.”

Your eyes widened at his audacity, but you burst out laughing and hit his shoulder.

“Yeah, from you,” you quipped back. “I should’ve known you were carrying something.”

The two of you didn’t know it, but that was when Dr. Baker smiled to herself. She decided then to leave the room, giving you some privacy as Ben laughed and framed your face with his hands.

His thumbs brushed against your cheeks, catching stray tears as they fell. You bit your lip as your glassy eyes met his once more. Ben became more serious as he let out a sigh.

“It’s not gonna be easy,” he reminded you. “Your family, your friends…they’re going to change, and you’re going to stay the same.”

Your excitement dimmed as that realization hit you. Your hands clenched in his shirt, over his chest. You thought about your mom, your sister, Yvette and Devon, Annie and Hughie and the rest of the team (even Butcher, you would miss).

“Yeah…that part’s not gonna be fun,” you said with a heavy, tremulous sigh. Your heart clenched at the very thought of them growing old, leaving you behind.

But your gaze eventually drew back up to him. You wondered then, not for the first time, how it must’ve been for him. For his parents to grow old and pass on long before him. For childhood friends, old lovers…

“Do you know what I worried about when we got married?” you asked.

Ben’s hands traveled down from your face, down your arms, to finally rest at your waist and thigh. He stared back at you expectantly.

“When you first told me you loved me, you said you were holding back the truth. Because you thought that one day, you’d be alone again,” you said, stroking his chest. “That honestly broke my heart. And it made me wonder if I was selfish to be with you anyway.”

Ben frowned, but you shook your head before he could respond.

“I told myself that after the baby was born, I’d go to Dr. Baker and ask her to find a way to make this happen,” you said. Another smile grew across your face. “But guess what? We figured it out all on our own, super stud.”

Ben smiled then, huffing in amusement as he thumbed at your cheek. You couldn’t really understand the full force of his relief. It might’ve threatened to buckle him into a seat, if he had been standing.

But now, he struggled with the warmth in his chest that for once, had nothing to do with his powers. He moved in to tug you into his arms, and he let out a long breath through his nose.

You couldn’t see how his eyes closed, but you felt his lips press against your forehead. You held him close. Or as closely as you could with your belly getting in between.

You rubbed his back and rested against his chest, hearing the calming, steady sound of his heart beating under your ear.  

“And at this rate, I might even live longer than you,” you teased. “After all, you got a head start. Compared to you, I’m still a hot young thing.”

Ben snorted and shook his head. “All right. Now you’re pushing it.”

You smirked into his chest.

“I’ll have to figure out where you rent those caravans.”

“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered. At the sound of your giggle, he couldn’t help but smile.

He still swatted you on the ass though.

A couple more months later…

He smelled like cigar smoke. For which you had no doubt, Ben had been puffing away with Frank and M.M. outside the hospital. 

The team of doctors (led by Dr. Baker) had finally left you alone with your husband, allowing you to take your first relaxed breath of the day.

“Your mom and your sister are waiting. Blondie and the others are out there too,” he said quietly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “My girl’s got a whole possy of bitches.” 

You assumed he meant Annie and the rest of the team.

You shot him a look, but you were careful not to disturb the sleeping newborn resting on your chest, in the crook of your arm.  

“They’re my friends, babe,” you whispered. “And they’re your friends now too, you just don’t want to admit it.”

Ben didn’t acknowledge that, but he laid a hand on your shoulder as he sat down on the edge of your hospital bed.

“How’re you doin’, sweetheart?” he asked. “Got everything you need?”

He’d become even more protective, but also very sweet to you in these past several months. More so than you’d thought him capable of, but it warmed you every time, when you considered how rough, how stoic, and how damn-near emotionally repressed he was not so very long ago.

It seemed that fatherhood was beginning to soften him, even before he began. You quirked a smile at the thought, and at his question.

“Imagine pushing a super melon out of your dick. That’s how I’m doing,” you said, tired but still cheeky as ever.

He snorted a bit loudly at that, and you shushed him, as if it wasn’t your fault he was laughing. He expected nothing less from you.

“But I’m okay,” you answered his second question. “All I need right now is you.”

Ben considered you for a moment, a slightly softer smile curving his lips, and he nodded.

“All right,” he said.

Your daughter woke and began to squirm in your arms, prompting Ben to look down at the bundle wrapped in a soft pink blanket. Gently as possible, he brushed the tuft of downy brown hair on her head. His hand shook ever so slightly, touching her small cheek. 

How can this little thing be mine? he wondered. His lips pressed into a firm line.

There was a thought, deep and thrumming inside him, that he didn’t deserve this. That just a couple of years ago, he had nothing to lose.

And now, his entire world was in this room. He’d never admit it, but it was a terrifying thought, for a man who’d had everything and nothing.

You unknowingly stopped the path of his thoughts when you raised a warm hand to his cheek. It earned his attention, and he grabbed your hand to keep it there.

You smiled up at Ben with weariness in your eyes. The super strength had drained out of you a few moments after the umbilical cord was cut, which had made for a less painful labor than you anticipated. But it had also been a long and uncomfortable eighteen hours.

“Wanna hold her for a while?” you asked.

The offer caught him off guard. His brows drew together, but he very carefully took his daughter from you, into his arms. Despite your temporary abilities throughout your pregnancy, he didn’t know if she already had his strength, or if it was something she’d grow into. Ben didn’t want to take any chances.

As he looked down at a small face that already had some of his features, he inhaled a faltering breath.

It was the first time you ever saw true tears in his eyes, as one managed to draw a path down his cheek. You smiled, and the pair of rings on your left hand caught the lamplight as you rested your hand on your chest.   

Ben held the bundle close in the crook of his arm. One of the baby’s hands was free, and he tickled his finger in her palm. She grasped it on reflex, opening her mouth on a yawn. Despite his red and shining eyes, he smiled, especially when she reached up for a strand of his hair with small, grabby fingers.

He let her get a hold of it, smirking when she gave it a little tug. Just hours old, and his girl was already demanding his attention. He didn’t know if newborns were able to do that this early, or if it was her blood that made her special.

Either way, he knew then that she was going to be a handful. Just like you. 

Ben glanced over and found you watching him with soft amusement. He looked back down at his daughter and told her the obvious.

“You know, you’re blessed to have my genes, baby girl,” he said. It elicited a knowing scoff out of you. However, his smirk softened. “But you’re also lucky as hell to have your mom.”

Ben looked back at you, and there was the predictable well of tears forming in your eyes.

“She’s the best damn woman you’re ever gonna meet,” he said.

He knew then that what he said to you before was right. If he had to go back to 1984, or even 1944, he’d do it all exactly the same.

It all worked out pretty damn well, from where he was standing.

AN: I’m not crying, you’re crying. 🥹😭

I sincerely hope you enjoyed Strong as Blood. Let me know what you think! And then you can...

Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:

Coming up next, get ready for some parenting fluff:

Summary: A quiet moment between you, Ben, and your newborn daughter.

▶️ Next Story: Until Morning

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[jumpandmove]

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[dragoncat223]

I’ve been thinking about this for the past couple of days. A more mature Scooby-Doo series can be done, and it can be done well. I’ve seen a lot of proposals for an adult Scooby-Doo series, so here’s mine.

Fred doesn’t have family. His parents change from series to series. The only consistent thing about Fred’s family is that it is uncertain, so it starts like this: Something strange and unexplained happened to Fred’s parents when he was a child. He was five years old and ever since he’s been filled with only questions. So he grows up with a curiosity that can never be satisfied. He goes to college, and gets a degree in physics. All the moving parts of any kind of machine is have always fascinated him. As a little ten year old he’d stand for hours in Krispy Kreme watching the machine that makes the donuts. So he’s an inventor. His pride and joy is his old van he paid $100 for an fixed up himself.

The Blakes are old money. They haven’t known financial insecurity since the 1610s. So they’ve got houses, and planes, and helicopters, and cars. Old cars. But the head of the family, (picks name out of hat) Robert “Dick” Blake has no idea how to take care of them. He’s a business man. He finds Fred Jones, a genius mechanic, and hires him on the spot.

Now, Dick loves his daughters dearly. All six of them. He’s been grooming his oldest to take over the company when he retires. Unfortunately that means he gets to spend less and less time with his other daughters to the point where his youngest daughter, Daphne, only gets to see him on holidays and her birthday (he’s trying, he really is). But Daphne is fine with that. After being raised in the lap of luxury, silver spoon in her mouth, she has had access to almost every hobby imaginable. She got excellent grades at her fancy private schools, and in her free time she did Karate, Boxing, Kick boxing, Mixed Martial arts, gymnastics, Ballet, tap dancing, tennis, basketball, soccer, volley ball, skiing, knitting, crochet, baking, embroidery, sewing, synchronized swimming, you name it, she’s done it. She graduated college with a degree in marketing she didn’t really want, wondering what she was going to do with her life. So, she wonders into the garage one day and discovers Fred working on a car. So she asks him about it. She listens and she learns. Eventually, they stop talking about cars. Daphne asks about Fred’s inventions and Fred asks about Daphne’s hobbies. They are fast friends and once they get close enough, Fred tells Daphne about his parents. Daphne immediately pledges to help her friend (and now secret crush) figure out what happened to his parents.

Velma is Daphne’s genius best friend. They were roommates in college. The building Velma had all her lab classes in had Daphne’s last name on it. Velma worked hard to get her scholarship for her forensic chemistry degree, and she was not going to let some spoiled, rich, daddy’s girl, ruin it for her. But one night Velma was walking back to her dorm after dark. Everyone knows to be wary on a college campus after dark, but Velma had just studied her brain into mush. She got cornered by some drunk asshole. Velma in her fear and panic, froze. Her voice wouldn’t work, and she feared for her life, when suddenly, the guy gets punched in the face. By Daphne. The guy crumples to the ground, Daphne grabs Velma by the wrist, and they don’t stop running until they are safely back in their dorm. Velma never doubts her again.

Now, for all their skills and knowledge, none of the three of them, know how to cook. Which is where Shaggy and Scooby come in. I saw someone (on Twitter, I think) say that Shaggy could have diabetes (I don’t know anything about diabetes so I am really sorry about any inaccuracies) and Scooby is Shaggy’s low blood sugar alert dog. I really like the idea that Shaggy is a licensed dietitian, and the only one who knows how to cook. After every case, shaggy herds them all back home and makes a nice, home cooked meal for everyone. Lasagna, stir fry, curry, soup, idk food.

Shaggy is Fred’s roommate, after college. They have a deal, Shaggy cooks, Fred cleans.

In my mind, Scooby starts off as a normal dog. On the gang’s very first case together, they encounter the series’ over all villain, or maybe the first villain they face is an actual witch or something I don’t know, but this witch is caught and tries to put a curse on the gang, but it hits Scooby instead, and now he’s a talking dog. He’s still very much Shaggy’s alert dog, but I like to think he becomes concerned with everyone’s health at least a little bit. They do all that running around, and all these mysteries they solve are very high stress, so he likes to make sure they get plenty of rest.

I’m not really sure about their first case, but I think every episode would start with a grizzly murder. We are using the R rating for blood and guts and bones and death. Not sex or nudity. And Fred is the only one who gets to swear.

Now, Daphne is the one that talks to clients. If they’re particularly shaken up, Shaggy will make them a hot drink and maybe give them a blanket.

I call it Scooby Doo: Private Investigators

I have more thoughts about this, so if you want to know more please ask!!

[angelonasher]

Everything so far about the season 9 Egg War

(in case anyone wants this lol)

Edit: please read the reblog with the corrections because I did make some mistakes/miss details :D

[you're here], Part 2

The links to the other parts are at the bottom of the reblog!

--

Grian steals The dragon egg from Pearl, dupes it, and returns it. (This will be important later)

Grian and Scar accidentally blow up Doc's tunnel bore as a way to procrastinate from finishing the back of Grian's base.

They make an apology pile with many gifts including diamonds, Scarland merch, and a dragon egg.

Doc retaliates by doing funky chunk repressor stuff to make Grian's nether portal one block and puts a load of wither skull projectiles in Scarland's sky.

Zedaph wants one of Grian's duped eggs for the Hall of All, and completes an egg quest Grian sent him on to get it. Part of the quest was blowing up a small section of Doc's base. (Without fixing it afterwards.)

Doc retaliates by making Grian blow up Mumbo's vault door in order to get a purple crown. (Which Grian wants because he claims it will make him "Mumbo's best friend.")

Grian leaves a sign saying he does not know how to "physically, emotionally, or spiritually fix this."

Mumbo pays Scar 64 diamonds to blow up a large part of his base because he didn't like it anymore. He then makes Grian think that it blew up along with the vault door, therefore making it Grian's fault. That causes Grian to burn (what they think is?) the one and only purple crown so far due to guilt.

Grian and Scar retaliate by creating a machine to fill Doc's perimeter with chickens. However, due to the Scar and Grian are banned sign in the perimeter, they go as their alter egos Poultry Man and Hotguy.

Doc cleans up the chickens with the help of Ren (who pledges his alliance to him), Zedaph (who he seems to be a bit on the fence about since he didn't fix his base), and some foxes.

Doc leads a bunch of the chickens Grian and Scar made into Grian's base. (With Zedaph's help.)

Grian, Scar, and Mumbo form the Buttercup alliance against Doc, because, according to Grian's research, buttercups are toxic to goats.

The Buttercup alliance makes a cute little tent area in the middle of Doc's path, raise a sniffer called "Xx_GoAtEaTeR_xX", and build their eyes overlooking the perimeter so Doc knows "they're always watching." (They also discover that falling blocks make Grian's game crash.)

The buttercups learn that Doc has a robot (the Goat Walker) that faces the path. They decide to build (let Mumbo build) a robot to fight it in a cool mech battle thing.

Doc uses the dragon egg Grian had given him as an apology to dupe a bunch more, then build an insane egg duping machine that makes a whole lotta dragon eggs.

Doc and Ren put these eggs in Scarland, Grian's base, the bridge connecting Grian's and Mumbo's bases, and Mumbo's vault. Ren encourages Doc to also put them inside Scarland's castle. (With loads of shulker boxes to spare.)

Pearl, as the server's resident cleaner lady, gets hired by Scar for a salary of 32 diamonds a week to clean up all the eggs in Scarland. (He also kind of throws Grian under the bus concerning the illegal eggs and logs off when asked to give her his stock of eggs.)

Doc calls Pearl to snitch- AhEm I mean inform Pearl of his neighbors' messiness. From him she learns that Grian's base also has eggs in it, that Doc was the one that duped all these eggs, Ren was the one to put them in the bases (although he did too), and that he had thought Grian had the original egg. (He also gives her almost two barrels full of shulker boxes full of dragon eggs. He does not tell her about the machine or the eggs still in it that he could easily use to make more.)

Pearl says something about Grian facing the cleaning lady's wrath idk i think she's gonna end up entering this whole fiasco too lol

Doc builds two butterflies flying above the perimeter in order to "kill them with kindness." The one facing directly towards Scarland is for him, and the one facing directly towards Grian's base is for Ren.

The butterflies are actually tnt-duping flying machines.

Doc tells Ren about and shows him the butterflies. Ren (apparently) thinks they are just flying machines, and Doc does not tell him about the tnt. (Doc's pov only)

Doc and Ren discover a beacon in the perimeter and that someone had been mining there. They conclude no one respects the Goat anymore, and Doc determines to find out who it was. (Idk if this is gonna be relevant but I've added it just in case.)

Ren tells Doc about his super awesome spy plans, which involves the cave right under the Buttercups's camp. (It's not elaborated on very much in Doc's episode.)

wooh. That is all I know so far :D

[sun-snatcher]

JUMPING IN IMMEEEEDIATELY because god I cannot help but think of Matt Fucking Murdock deciding that he hasn’t got a good enough grasp of what you look like after workinf with you for a while so asks to feel your face to learn by touch just!!!!!! Tender workplace tension bro

( beautiful gif, once again, from the incredible @chrlie-cox ! )

𖤓 ─ SUNNY-SIDE UP ! ; a drabble

summ. Nelson, Murdock & Page has a fresh-faced hire. pairing. matt murdock / secretary!f!reader - “Sunny” a/n. Supposed to be a blurb but got a little carried away with this one, so have a drabble instead! Potential series? Who knows.

MATT MURDOCK doesn’t get embarrassed or sheepish; I mean, he’s Daredevil for Christ’s sake. He spends his night cosplaying as a red-horned vigilante that beats criminals up in the name of justice. And let’s not even begin to discuss the irony of how he’s an unflappable pro-bono lawyer by day.

So you can only imagine Foggy’s surprise when his decade-long friend, who’s never had an issue with women back in their college-days, seemed to fumble apropos of you.

( Fawning, almost. Ducked smiles and nervous laughter and the like. )

You— the cheerful, bright-eyed, tenderfoot secretary hired by Nelson, Murdock & Page— who managed to iron out the administrative wrinkles and logistical kinks of the entire office within the first week of you being hired. 

You, who went out of your way to categorise the boxes of legal documents by case type and date, organised stacked client files and contact lists by alphabetical order, and took the time to digitise every document in the office, because: now you guys don’t have to pull long hours in here. Use technology! Go home! Shoo!

( Foggy tells Matt, half-horrified and half-impressed once upon a time: “She’s like Donna from Suits but… sunnier—”

“Hm,” Matt smiles, completely distracted in favour of listening to you titter with a client through the wall. Sunshine? he tries, No— Sunny. Yeah. The nickname suits you.

“—I once saw her type up four subpoena requests while convincing a client over the phone from dropping our firm by scheduling an appointment with them on the dot. And just the other day she handed me my motion documents before I even got the chance to ask!”

“Right after she fixed the old fax machine, too,” Karen adds in passing, “And that was before the coffee was even done brewing.” )

You’re a ‘shot of espresso’ or a ‘bath of sunlight’ or whatever the poets like to call it.

But, still. You’re Sunny. You’re, a woman. And Matt Murdock can be a womaniser when he needs to be, except— it kinda just… haywires around you, sometimes. 

It usually heads that way whenever you breeze past him, and he catches the bergamot scent of your perfume, the tray of coffee orders in your hands— Even worse when he hears your cadent voice lilt across the room:

Idle chatter with clientele; Hum of some pop-song from the radio underneath your breath; or when you throw your head back in a burst of musical laughter:

Light and radiant and warm and—

“Can I see you?” he blurts.

In the 8pm moonlight filtering through the office blinds, pouring over evidence of a defense case with him, you’re wide-eyed in bewilderment as you blink owlishly at Matt Murdock. 

“I don’t know,” you smile, humorously, “Can you?”

He huffs out a laugh from where he’s feeling the brailled tags of the filing cabinets, slotting in a dossier. ( Another beloved story of Matt’s: learning that you had meticulously braille-labelled each drawer and document title for him the first few weeks you’d joined. Christ, how did the office ever survive without you? )

 “I, I mean your face,” he explains, tilting his head. “I don’t know how you look like, so…”

Not that it matters, he thinks candidly. “May I?”

He raises his palm ever so slightly.

You worry your lip. Matt Murdock is a fine man with finer qualities and the finest face of Hell’s Kitchen— you’re not sure your poor heart can handle having his hands roving over your face, especially when Karen’s almost caught you admiring them far too many times to count. Nevertheless:

“Sure. You’ll be sorely disappointed, though,” you shrug, rising from your seat to stretch as you move towards him. “Not the prettiest mug ‘round here.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Hm. Somehow I highly doubt that.”

Your heart rate is speeding up. Matt’s just glad you’re just as shy about this as he is. 

He twitches his finger and you quietly meet his hand halfway. 

The contact buzzes through him like a bolt. 

Here, he hears you whisper. Guiding. Patient. His fingers skate your cheeks— flushed warm from his settling compliment. 

Then he drifts: your ears and temples, the arch of your brows, the dip of your nose bridge. He thumbs across your lashes and down the divot of your lips, tracing its shape and picturing every curve and detail in his mind’s eye.

It’s intriguing to witness and experience all at once. You’re not sure if a blind man could admire— but there’s a softness to his touch and a lightness in his caress that might be it; nigh reverent.

It’s painfully intimate. 

He brushes a strand away. Rests his palm at your jawline and skirts the juncture of your neck.

You want to lean into his touch. He wants to lean into you.

The proximity is intoxicating.

“You’re beautiful.”

A barely-there murmur; drowned in sincere affection.

He can feel your cheeks dig into a timid smile, and he can’t help but dimple at you too. “Hi, Sunny,” he greets, playfully. “I’m Matt Murdock.”

The laugh that bubbles out of you makes his heart sing. 

You’re reaching for his wrist to steady yourself and ducking into his shoulder as you do, and he hopes to God you can’t hear the thunder of his heart against his ribs. 

“You’re not too shabby yourself, Mr. Murdock,” you titter, catching your lip. “But I’m sure you hear that all the time.”

“Oh, yeah,” he waves, making a dismissive face, “All the time.”

You laugh again. 

And good fucking God—

He wants to get drunk on the sound of it.

— send in a blurb request !

[llamagoddessofficial]

Have you ever done an au where the boys are farmers? :]

I did once before, but hey. Nothing wrong with more farm. And as a certified country bumpkin who has lived/worked on many a farm in her life, I feel I'm uniquely qualified for this au ;)

It makes sense that all three boys would work on the same self-sustaning farm. 'Cousins' taking care of the same land, and everything. Maybe Mc is the cute girl who lives nearby and finds herself taking up odd jobs for them every now and then, for some spare cash...?

Sans: ... Mc bumps into him a lot, whether she's helping out on the farm or just passing by their fields on her way to somewhere else. He's always friendly, always greets her- always smiling up at her from under his goofy straw hat and telling terrible farm-related jokes so he can grin at her laughter. She can usually spot him napping in a field somewhere; when she asks what he's doing he always says he's 'working'.

To be fair to him, what he's 'working' on is always complete to perfection. All the hay around him has been baled despite no machines in sight, all the vegetables have been pulled and packed into their boxes, all the dirt has been tilled in perfect straight lines. She's got no clue how he does it.

If she's ever working with him (say, they're packing fruit together) he's always trying to encourage her to flunk it and nap with him. He knows all the best resting spots in a mile radius... and when she does crack and nap with him, it's the best rest she's had in a long time.

Red: He's a fieldhand who doubles as a pretty decent handyman. It's not unusual to catch him moving around in oil-stained dungarees with a toolbox tucked under one arm and a cigarette between his teeth, repairing any machinery that needs a loving touch. Other farms occasionally hire him out to repair whatever busted old thing they're not ready to let go of yet, and he's picked up a reputation for being able to repair anything.

... That's not the only thing he's picked up a reputation for, though. Red's got a good relationship with most of the other farms... mostly because he's banged a decent percentage of all the nearby fieldhands. He's famously good with his hands, after all.

Mc likes him, he's charming and somehow manages to smell good despite always being covered in motor oil. He likes to show off to her by helping her with her chores and lifting heavy shit with his big arms... she's flattered by his obvious interest in her. But she's also aware of his reputation, and isn't super keen to get cuddly just yet.

Skull: He mostly handles animals. He's got that quiet, strong demeanour that they like. He doesn't talk to people, or go out much, he's a bit of an urban legend in the area. He's much more comfortable around animals than people; animals don't judge him for how he looks, or expect him to talk, or care that he smells like hide all the time.

Mega crush on Mc from the first moment he sees her, which only exacerbates his usual anxieties around people and makes him super shy. Even though she makes him nervous, he really likes when she drops by the barns to help him with the animals. She's the only one who regularly visits. Silently feeding the chickens while he listens to her talk is one of his favourite activities in the whole world.

While Red's showing off is intentional, Skull tends to show off completely accidentally. He often lifts up stupidly heavy things without thinking; effortlessly slinging several bags of feed onto his shoulders, despite each bag individually being so heavy she couldn't even push one across the floor. He doesn't understand why her face flushes so much when he lifts big bales. Maybe she's been out in the sun too long?

[starry-bi-sky]

tick tock

Highkey dedicating this to @watercolour-carnations bc they sent me an ask about my 'danny is thomas wayne' au and singlehandedly revitalized my brainrot for it. Apparently the quickest way to a starry's heart is through their ask box

Now posted on ao3 under the name 'dniwer eht kcolc'!

In hindsight, hosting a science exhibit was probably not the best idea that Bruce has ever. This wasn't even one of Bruce's galas and, yet he was still attending because it gave him the opportunity to scope out any potential rogues (or henchmen).

Damian was by his side, and Tim was on the other side of the room, inspecting some of the other inventions under the prospect of gaining new hires for R&D at WE. Something that was not entirely false. Bruce could always use new, bright minds working to make Gotham a better place.

He was, particularly, eyeing up one moderately-sized invention that a woman with cutting blue eyes and stark white hair had covered with a white sheet. An interesting choice when everyone else had already revealed their own inventions. Drifting closer with Damian, he smiles charmingly at the scientist when they lock eyes.

"And what is this interesting contraption?" He asks, looking over the sheet as if it was the invention itself and not what was underneath.

The woman curled purple-painted fingers around the sheet, yanking it down to reveal a machine that looks like a mix of a jukebox and a grandfather clock. A long wire was attached to it, and a strange, blinking, circlet-like device connected on the other end.

Bruce's brows rose considerably, and he could sense Damian's eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"This is my Holographic Memory Machine -- the name is still a work in progress -- it's a memory machine meant to allow anyone to relive their memories right in front of them, even the ones they don't remember." The woman says with a smile, her name card reads 'Dr. Casey W. Kairos'. He's never heard of her before. An out-of-townie, perhaps?

"Interesting." Bruce's hands fold behind his back and he looks down at his disinterested son, and then back up to Dr. Kairos. It sounded harmless, but even a pencil could be harmless until enough force was put into it. "How does that work?"

Dr. Kairos walks over and holds up the strange circlet device, "The user wears this headband. It scans their brainwaves and then plays a memory of their choice right in front of them like a hologram, including any voices that came with it." She explains, showing it off to Bruce and Damian. "Would either of you like to try it? The HMM has been tested and it is completely safe."

Damian scoffs and turns to him, "This is a waste of time, father," He says, "let's move on."

"Oh, don't be like that, Dames." Bruce smiles genially, placing a hand on his son's shoulder and squeezing it. It reminds him of when his father used to do the exact same thing, and he turns to Dr. Kairos. "I can try it, Doctor."

Kairos smiles widely, looking incredibly pleased. "Come stand here then, Mr. Wayne. I can get the HMM up and working." She gestures to a spot on the floor within the circlet's range, and Bruce goes and does as told.

"Standing around and looking pretty is my specialty, Doctor Kairos." He jokes as she gets the device situated on his head. It sits on his forehead snugly, and tucks behind his ears. Kairos snorts and turns to get the machine activated.

"Father." Damian says, indignant and scowling. His arms crossed over his chest petulantly. Bruce chuckles at him.

"The Doctor said it was perfectly safe, Damian." He admonishes lightly, wagging a finger at him. "I trust the good lady to know what she's doing." Not really, but he'd rather test it out on himself if it was unsafe.

Thirty seconds passed with Dr. Kairos working on flicking on the HMM, and when it came alive it came with a low hum and a distinct, ticking like noise. "Ah, there we go." She hums, stepping away. "It's up and working, Mister Wayne. Just think of a memory and let the HMM do the rest."

"Thank you, Doctor." Bruce nods at her, and then tries to think of what to let the machine show. Nothing that would give away his identity as Batman, of course not. Nothing incriminating.

He looks to Damian, who still looked very unhappy with him. Perhaps a memory of one of his boys in the manor? Or a Brucie Wayne moment that everyone's seen. His brows furrow in thought. One of his speeches?

...No. No, he has an idea.

Immediately, the HMM begins to hum louder, the ticking drowned out by the sound of its fans kicking in. It starts drawing the attention of the other ongoers, and Damian steps to Bruce's side as a crowd begins to form.

"What is that thing?"

"What's it doing?"

"Is it safe?"

Hushed whispers scatter around them as more and more people abandon the other stalls in favor of seeing whatever spectacle was happening. Tim appears as well, pushing his way through the crowd and situating himself by Damian and Bruce.

"What's going on?" He whispers with a frown, looking between Bruce and Damian.

Damian hmphs, "Father is trying out this woman's 'Memory Machine'."

Just when Bruce is starting to think the machine doesn't work, he hears a sound that silences the spectators. A piano note. A singular note, followed by another, and another. Right before Bruce's eyes, the air shimmers, and a projection of his father sitting at the grand piano appears before him.

His breath hitches in his throat. He remembers this. He remembers this piece. It was father's favorite.

Damian and Tim are stiff at his side, and Bruce hears the crowd gasp.

There, sitting on the floor at the bench, is Bruce himself at six years old. He's resting his arms on it, and leaning his head on his arms with a look of pure adoration -- did he really look like that? -- aimed at his father.

There's no talking between them, a content silence as Thomas Wayne fills the air with his piano playing. That is-- until he stops midway through the piece, fingers stopping the keys with a abrupt jerk.

Thomas laughs, quiet and full of love, and little Bruce picks his head up with an affronted frown. "Why'd you stop? I like listening to you play."

"I know you do." Thomas says, his voice is as soothing as Bruce remembers it to be. The memory twists to look at little Bruce with a blinding smile, as if he was looking at his whole world. It's the first time in decades that Bruce has seen his father smiling like-- like that. His eyes involuntarily sting.

"But how can you hear so well when you're all the way down there?" Thomas shifts, and pats an open space on the bench. "Come sit up here, Boo. I can teach you to play."

(Thomas Wayne was always fond of pet names, he had plenty of them for Bruce, and he used them at every opportunity.)

Little Bruce perks up, "Really?" He grins, and then clambers into the bench. His father's arms wrap around him.

The voices fade as the memory slowly begins to collapse, and Bruce feels a spike of panic in his heart before the memory is replaced by another one.

He's younger, probably four years old, being sprayed down by a hose by his father. Little Bruce is squealing with laughter, trying to swat the water away like a fly, and his clothes are drenched.

Thomas is laughing as well, wearing a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He looks like he just came home from a business meeting. Bruce always thought he was old when he was little. But at four years old, Thomas Wayne is only a little over twenty. Barely an adult. He is twenty-four when he dies. He was so young.

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" Little Bruce squeals, trying to run out of the line of fire, but Thomas Wayne has a sharp eye, and the hose in his hands follow Bruce no matter where he goes.

Until finally Thomas drops the hose and runs towards Bruce, who is trying to recover from being sprayed down with ice cold water. Thomas reaches him before he has time to move, and scoops him up in his arms.

He is laughing loudly and boisterously, spinning them both around as Bruce clings to him for dear life, laughing with him. The memory fades away, and Bruce feels like there are hands around his throat trying to choke him.

A new one shows up, one he doesn't remember at all. His father is younger than before, a teenager, and he's holding a tiny bundle in his arms. He looks like he's on the verge of tears, hunched over it like a shield.

Someone, a girl with gothic attire, peers over his shoulder. "Gosh, Tom, a baby? That's a lot of responsibility." She says, dark-lipstick lips painted downwards in a frown. "And right after you've disowned your parents too?"

Another boy looks around Thomas with a similar frown and an uncertain look, "Yeah man, I'm with Sam on this one -- for once. You don't even have anywhere to live."

Thomas doesn't look like he's even paying attention, utterly smitten with the baby -- its himself, Bruce realizes -- he's cradling. "Look at him though, guys," he breathes, "he's so tiny. Have you seen his little watercolor eyes?"

(Watercolor eyes. Bruce had long since forgotten about that nickname his father gave him. hearing him say it is like a punch to his stomach.)

"You named him Bruce?"

Bruce huffs to himself, an involuntary smile twitching at his mouth as the memory dips again and cycles through another memory he recognizes.

The memories it shows are sporadic, with no chronological order to them other than each and every one is a happy one.

Bruce playing piano with his father.

Bruce stargazing with his father.

Bruce being carried on his father's shoulders.

Bruce getting ready for a gala with his father.

Bruce in the kitchen helping his dad make breakfast (there's pancake flour smeared on his cheek).

Bruce making a snowman with his father.

An apology between Bruce and his father in the form of a piano duet.

There are even a few memories he doesn't remember. Some of them are when he's old enough to, but many are when he's a baby. Some are before his father was adopted by the Waynes, when the only thing on their backs was a raggedy backpack and an oversized sweatshirt, and Bruce's baby blanket. And some are after, where he's sitting in an antique rocking chair bottle feeding Bruce with a look of sheer adoration on his face.

That look never seems to go away, ever, in any of the memories.

Finally, the HMM settles on a final memory, one that makes Bruce's blood run cold and snaps him out of his nostalgic revelry. His father is getting ready in his room, and Bruce comes barreling in with his own suit-and-tie.

"Dad! Dad! Dad!" He chants, running to Thomas, who whirls around and picks him up seamlessly. They spin twice before Thomas settles in front of the mirror, Bruce on his hip as he adjusts his tie with one hand.

"Yes, boo?" Thomas grins, wide-splitting with his shock-blue eyes looking at Bruce in the reflection. He and Bruce have the same eyes. It's shocking how much they look like each other, now that Bruce was older.

Little Bruce makes a dramatic face, a look that only lasts a few seconds before he remembers his excitement. He wiggles in Thomas' arms, "You gotta hurry up! Or we'll be late to the movie!"

Bruce's fingers dig into his palm, and he can vaguely feel his sons' looking at him. There's a feeling of impending doom square in the center of his lungs, and he forces himself to look on.

Thomas laughs, and nuzzles Bruce's cheek. "The movie isn't going anywhere, chum, I promise." He says, before setting him down. Little Bruce pouts, his lower lip sticking out. "I know how much you've been looking forward to this."

"Can you help me with my tie then?" Bruce asks, and looks at his own, sloppily done tie around his neck. "I can never get it right."

And, of course, Thomas Wayne kneels down to redo it. He always did everything Bruce asked or wanted. He measures it, loops it, and then knots the tie perfectly.

"There." He says, and smoothes out Bruce's little jacket, smiling in adoration. "Now go play, I'll call you when it's time to go."

And Bruce does just that, running out of the room with a yell of, "You better promise!"

"I promise!" Thomas yells back, laughing at his son as he turns back to the mirror.

The memory shimmers, and changes to as they're leaving. And then and there does Bruce call it quits. His eyes are glistening, his tears nearly blinding him with the swelling, overwhelming grief in his heart. He looks away, and tries to find Doctor Kairos.

(He doesn't see her switch something on the side of the machine. There is no noticeable difference in the machine, but on the inside a time rune starts to glow.)

"I think I'm done here, Doctor." He says once he can find his voice without it shaking. He can't hide the full crack and tremble laying beneath it, but at least he doesn't cry. He's almost forgotten that he had a silent audience.

Doctor Kairos nods and steps forward, reaching for the headband. "The memories should cut off once I take this off, Mister Wayne." She says, and fiddles with it for a moment. Behind her, the memory of himself and his father are walking outside. "I hope that wasn't too much for you?"

(The ticking of the machine grows louder, and the memory glitches.)

"No, no." Bruce assures with a smile that wasn't all Brucie Wayne yet. He looks down when he feels Damian's hand curl around his, and his son leans into his side. His smile softens, and he presses Damian closer. His other arm finds itself over Tim's shoulders as well, pressing him to his side.

"It was fine. Actually, it was an honor to be the first to try out your memory machine. I'm sure it will help many people." He tells her. She smiles slyly, and slides the headband off his head.

"That's what I'm hoping for, Mister Wayne." Doctor Kairos places the headband onto the table. The memory hasn't disappeared, Bruce notes with a furrow of his brows. And the audio has muffled slightly.

"I thought you said that the memory would cut off when the headband was off?" He asks. Kairos looks at him, and then behind her at the memory. She frowns.

"It should have--"

Little Bruce suddenly frowns, and looks away from Thomas. "Do you hear that?"

Bruce frowns. "I don't remember this." That wasn't in his memory. They just went straight to Monarch Theater without any issue.

Thomas looks down at his son, "What noise?" He asks, squeezing Bruce's hand. His head cranes, as if trying to hear whatever noise Bruce was hearing.

"That ticking sound." Bruce's frown deepens, "It sounds like your clock, dad."

Thomas' immediately frowns, looking so strikingly like Bruce that he marvels for a moment. He looks around as well. "...You're right. I hear it too." He steps a little closer to Bruce, his hand tightening around his.

A sense of unease fills Bruce's lungs. "What's going on?" He asks, taking a step away from the memory. This was different. This isn't his memory.

"I'm not sure." Doctor Kairos says, and her unsurety sounds so practiced and calm that Bruce's suspicion levels to her immediately. His boys look at her too with the same unease. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

She strides around the memory to the side of the machine just as a gold symbol appears on the ground. It looks like a giant roman clock, and a loud, clunky ticking fills the room.

The memories see it too, and Bruce's heart drops to his feet as he and the rest of the crowd back away from it. "Dad, what is that?!" Little Bruce exclaims, a look of fear morphing across his face as he suddenly clings to his dad's leg.

Thomas looks pale, looking at his feet and gripping little Bruce to him protectively. "I don't-- I don't know, Bruce."

(A memory that Bruce doesn’t have is his father arguing with a man named Clockwork. He does not see the man named Clockwork all but beg Thomas not to go out tonight.)

("Does something happen to Bruce?" His father asks the ghost.)

("No," the man says, "but--")

("But nothing, Clockwork." Thomas, once Danny, says firmly. "My son has been looking forward to this all week. I'm not going to crush his hopes by changing my mind last minute.")

("Thomas, please.")

("Look, if something happens tonight, I will handle it, okay?" Thomas assures him, a hand atop Clockwork's shoulder with a small smile. "I promise.")

(And then he leaves, Clockwork defeated in his wake.)

(Clockwork has seen this boy grow up from the shadows, and now he can do nothing to stop his fate like he once did before.)

The strange, clock-like circle, something intrinsically magic, begins to glow. The minute and hour hands tick faster and faster. Little Bruce holds onto his father like a lifeline, and Thomas Wayne crouches down to hold his son tighter, protectively.

Bruce Wayne turns away just as the light grows blinding, tucking Tim and Damian into his chest like a human shield. There is yelling and screams as the crowd tries to stampede away from it.

Bruce has no idea what this light will do, but he'd rather die than let his sons get hurt.

The light burns his eyelids even when he isn't facing it. And when it dies without even a burn across his back, Bruce slowly unfurls. His hands stay on his sons' shoulders, keeping them close to him, and he peers over his shoulder.

There on his knees, is Thomas Wayne, curled protectively around eight year old Bruce Wayne, much like Bruce had been. Bruce holds his breath, and his sons slowly unfurl themselves as well and peer around him.

Thomas Wayne is frozen in place for one second, two seconds, three. And then he begins to move. First, the tension drains out of his shoulders, and his head jerks, as if surprised that nothing has happened.

He looks up, his eyes open, and he and Bruce make eye contact. Bruce cannot breathe, and he cannot believe the sight before him. It's just the memory machine breaking. (Doctor C.W Kairos is nowhere to be found.)

And then recognition flickers in his father's face as his panting slows and quiets. His head tilts to the side like a fawn's, a familiar wrinkle appearing before his brows.

"Bruce?"