#i love kids but if i worked with them all day i think i would die
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vroomvroommuppett · 2 days ago
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masterlist | taglist | buy me a coffee! | pateron | still taking requests! | feedback form!! |
requested by @lost4lyrics: carlos sainz x oscar piastri x reader where everyone thinks that carlos and oscar are fully fighting for the readers attention, but it's just all fun and scripted by the three of them
likes comments and reblogs appreciated!!
©vroomvroommuppett | i do not give the right for my works to be posted, copied or translated anywhere.
𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩
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𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩
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𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩
ynprivate
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liked by carlospriv, oscarpriv, and others
ynprivate can you believe these two are fighting over me on track? it's as if they forget we're married and have kids.
tagged: oscarpiv, carlospriv
carlospriv He started it!
oscarpriv No you did! carlospriv LIES ynprivate children. i married children
landopriv It's so hard to not say anything
maxpriv They do it out of love
kikapriv now i see where your kids get their facial expressions
georgepriv Yeah, your daughter has a good RBF oscarpriv oh she gets that from her mom
charlespriv It's honestly funny to watch
hulkpriv I agree
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𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩
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𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩
carlossainz55
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liked by ynsainzpiastri, oscarpiastri, and others
carlossainz55 When fans think you and Oscar hate each other, but really, you're married to him and an amazing girl. Te amo, mis amores [I love you, my loves]
tagged: oscarpiastri, ynsainzpiastri
comments have been limited
ynsainzpiastri my boys❤️🧡
oscarpiastri We do it to give the fans a show
scuderiaferarri Our parents
mclarenf1 No ours landonorris Do I mean nothing? ynsainzpiastri stop being a fuckboy and settle down and maybe you'll get that title landonorris CARLOS OSCAR YOUR WIFE IS MEAN carlossainz55 She's right though
fransisca.cgomes MILF
carmenmmundt MILF lilymhe MILF alexandrasaintmleux MILF pierregasly Um... alex_albon Hello? charles_leclerc Rude georgerussell63 We're right here!
maxverstappen1 About time you announced it. I was afraid Lando would blurt it out.
landonorris I'm not that bad! Right babe? logansargeant I plead the fifth ynsainzpiastri I still question to this day how the two of you got together... maxverstappen1 Same.
lewishamilton Beautiful family!
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𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩
tag list: @2pagenumb @Ale-522 @d3kstar @formulaal @lady-laura-speaks @abookmouse @anamiad00msday @barcelonaloverf1life @blushmimi @charllleclerc @dark-night-sky-99 @eugene_emt_roe @fall-bambi @formulaonebuff @gr3yhues @heavy-vettel @ietss @il0vereadingstuff @magical-spit @mypage-myfandoms @nichmeddar @nikfigueiredo @noooway555 @norstappenvibes @novelswithariana @raizelchrysanderoctavius @samantha-chicago @spencerrosewrites @stupid---person @swifthOlic @sya-skies @theforevermorereject @thescooby-gang @woozarts @yukimaniac @hinamesgigantica @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @neferaskingdom @ricciardosredbull @hiireafstuff @awritingtree
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novvabee · 2 days ago
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Hi,
Could you do a romantic poly!marauder (without peter) x reader where they are in a established relationship and maybe James (I just imagine it coming for him) having baby fever and dropping hint at it to make the others want to a start a family ?
omg! I totally can see James wanting a family like straight away, but the others are kind of hesitant. Hope this fits your vision ❤️
Oh baby, baby fever
summary: james wants a baby
cw: suggestive? talk about starting a family
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James had been more needy and cuddly in the past couple of days. He was holding you closer, tighter to his chest in the mornings, being incredibly sweet. And this is James we’re talking about. He normally treated you like royalty, but he had somehow stepped it up after spending the day at work with you.
You had been a nanny for a family for about a year now, and you were loving the job. The family was so kind and generous, and they often felt like an extension of your own family. The children were no different. They were the sweetest kids with the most patience and understanding that you had ever seen in a child. There was a boy, Liam, who was 5, and a little girl named Ruth, 4. They were the reason you loved your job, getting to see them and care for them was the best job you could have ever asked for.
Two days ago, you had planned a trip to the zoo for the two, and were so excited to spend the whole day with them. James, who had the day off, offered to come with. He argued that it would be better to have two adult sets of eyes to watch over the children, safer, and you agreed. You didn’t know how the children would take it at first, him being a stranger, but just like everyone else seemed to, they took to him instantly.
Liam was so happy to have a boy to rough around with (though james was about 3 and a half feet teller and much, much stronger) and Ruth seemed to develop a bit of a crush, having James tie her pink sparkly shoes, hold his hand to cross the street, listen to her jokes and animal facts she had learned, and hold her favorite stuffed animal when she got tired of holding it herself.
James never once complained. He played and laughed with the kids, he carried both, one in each arm, whenever they asked, he bought them each a toy from the gift shop with his own money when they asked. He was doing amazing.
There was a different side to James that you saw. You were used to the kindness and warmth of him, but this was different. He was so gentle with them, it came so easy to him. You noted the moments he would get down to their level to hear them properly, to make sure they felt heard even though they were mostly talking nonsense or silly kid things. He lifted them up to see the animals without them having to ask, he just knew they wouldn’t be about to see over the fence. He made sure they had water and snacks whenever they wanted them.
It took a lot of pressure and stress off of you, put some ideas into your head… you thought that he would make a great dad.
And it seems, James had the same thoughts. The next day he dropped his first hint. All four of you and your boys were lounging about on the couch and watching movies. The day was quite glum out and you all wanted to curl up and use each other for warmth. You were curled into Remus’s side, James laying on you, his head on your chest and body between your legs, Sirius’s head in Remus’s lap. You were a big puddle of happiness. While watching a particularly boring part of the movie, James began running his hands along your sides, under your shirt. You didn’t mind, his hands were always so warm and soft. It gave you goosebumps in the best way. He moved his hands from your sides to your stomach, right under your belly button. He was dragging his fingers along your bare skin before looking at your stomach and kissing it. He laid his head back down and watched the move like nothing, continuing to rub your sides, but you knew what he was after. You knew what he was thinking and why. 
The next hint was dropped while you were all in the kitchen. Remus finishing cooking dinner for you, and the three of you waiting patiently at the table. You had somehow stumbled into the conversation of which teachers you had crushes on when you were younger. 
“Oh come on, Minnie had that authoritative thing going for her.” Sirius confidently announced over the noise of the kitchen.
“McGonagall? Sirius, what is wrong with you?” Remus looked over from the stove, baffled. You giggled and went to stick up for Sirius.
“I don't know,” you joked “She had sort of a milf vibe don't you think?”
The boys all laughed. James replied with a smirk from across the table“You’d know all about that Y/N, wouldn’t you?”
You tilted your head at him and furrowed your brows but chuckled “What do you mean Jamesie?”
“I just mean,” he starts, Remus serving you and Sirius both plates, “It takes one to know one.”
You all started laughing heartily at his comment.
“James mate, I think she’s lacking the main component for that.” Sirius teased.
“What do you mean?” James asked.
“She's not a mother.” 
“She could be,” James said slyly, a smirk cutting across his face.
“Woah woah” Remus said at the same time Sirius laughed a “What are you planning Potter?” you just laughed, you knew exactly what he was getting at. You were letting him have his fun before the seriousness sets in, before that very real, very important discussion happens. 
The next hint was dropped during game night. You had all decided to play a few games like Overcooked and Mario Party. It was quite a fun night full of swearing and playful anger. It was a good outlet to yell at each other without it being serious or mean in any way. A great way to let out all of your competitive energy. You were playing a round of Mario Party and losing, bad. Every mini game the boys seemed to team up on you. “Fuck me!” you let out.
James took this as his sign to slide in behind you and wrap his arms around you “You know that can be arranged, love.” he drawled, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. 
Remus and Sirius shared a look. “What’s gotten into him?” Sirius asked.
“He wants to have a baby.” you explained. You weren’t sure how the other boys hadn’t picked up on it. It wasn’t exactly something that  you had all talked about yet, you just liked being together, the four of you, having fun and sharing a life with each other. You weren't sure about… a baby. 
The whole room turned attention to James, who seemed to have turned shy. “I just-,” he started, “I think that… Y/N would make a wonderful mother, and I think I would be a pretty good dad? And I love children, I want one. I’m not saying, I mean, I-I don’t know…” He finished, unconfident and a little deterred.
You sighed, sitting up and readjusting to sit in his lap, facing him. “Jamie baby,” You said, taking his face in your hands, “look, you would be an amazing dad, the best dad in the world. But honey, I don’t think we are all ready for that right now.” you looked over to Sirius and Remus for agreement, they nodded and encouraged you to keep going. “James, we’re still really young. And I know you had a lot of fun with the kids I nanny, but that is different. Those are someone else's kids. Kids that we can have fun with and do fun things with them and then send them on their way back home where they scream and cry and throw tantrums. They aren’t always so perfect. And you’ve never had to change their diapers or deal with them when they're sick and when they are inconsolable. It was fun, but there is a whole other side to parenting, a hard and serious one.” Sirius opened his mouth to make a comment at that but Remus nudged him in the ribs and shook his head. “So baby, I am not saying no. But I am saying not right now. Is that understandable?” you asked.
James looked at you and nodded, you could tell he knew it wasn't the right time, but deep down that is something he wants. You kissed his cheek to try and cheer him up a bit, you know he would need a little bit to be sad, but that he would inevitably come around.
Remus, noticing that James was still upset, came up with a proposition. “How about we work our way up? We start small and then see where we are after. What if we get a cat or a dog?” He suggests.
Sirius squinted his eyes and said “How about a plant?”
James chuckled, the sound making your heart feel less heavy. “I would like a cat…”
“Damnit” Sirius said under his breath.
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nayedoll · 2 days ago
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You’re all I want
joost klein x fem!reader
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description: Joost and reader experience the hardships of a relationship, until their biggest fight yet— which is resolved by some much needed make-up sex
word count: 2.7k
warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut; f!receiving oral, protected piv,
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The moonlight creeps in through the window, your only source of light in the dark room. Not that you needed much light anyways; for the past twenty minutes you’ve been staring at the wall across from you, your thoughts filling the emptiness. All the hurtful words Joost said, all the blame he put on you; all the things you said to him, things that you didn’t mean but in the heat of the moment, didn’t care to think twice about them— it’s all there, eating you alive, digging holes into your heart.
Deep down, you know this fight was bound to happen at some point, it had to. Joost working endlessly from day to night for the past month, being gone for hours, along with your already packed schedule that never seemed to overlap with his— it had definitely created a certain tension in the air. If you were lucky enough, you’d only see him in the early mornings and late at night. Naturally, all the pressure, all your worries, the exhaustion of it all would lead you both to take it out on each other— you didn’t mean to, but after a long day, every little thing seemed to irritate you, before it turned into yet another fight.
But this— this had been your biggest fight yet. It had started out as per usual, one of you complaining about something you can’t even remember now, before in a matter of minutes, it had turned into a meaningless competition about who “works more” , who’s “more tired”, who “cares more” about the other one; it was so meaningless but so hurtful at the same time. Joost’s voice still lingers in your mind, the heavy silence in the room after he accused you of not caring about him, of not loving him. Then of course, all the awful things you said in return, trying to fix things by defending yourself but making them worse in the heat of the moment.
Joost eventually left; presumably off to the balcony to smoke a cigarette like he always does when he’s stressed out or mad. Usually, you’d leave him be and ask him about it later but now… now you know exactly why he’s upset, and to realize that you’re the reason for it makes your chest hurt. Your eyes start getting watery again as you take a deep breath to calm yourself down, when you hear a knock at the bedroom door; you don’t bother to reply, already knowing who’s the one knocking.
The door opens reluctantly, the yellowish light of the hallway peeking into the room as Joost steps in, in his grey sweatpants, the graphic hoodie you’d gotten him for his birthday that probably carries the scent of his camels now.
He stands by the door for a second, “Were you sitting in the dark this whole time?” His voice is calmer than before, strangely comforting even after everything.
You ignore his question, turning your head to gaze at the cloudy night sky out the window. Hearing him walk over to you, the bed sinking as he sits down facing you. He opens the bedside lamp with a faint click noise, painting the room in a dim yellow light.
You feel Joost caressing your thigh, immediately drawing your gaze back to him,
“You know I didn’t mean those things, right?” He gives you a weak smile, a hint of regret hidden in his eyes.
You sigh, “I don’t know. Did you?” You try to make your voice firm, but the sadness is obviously there, indicating that you’ve been crying.
“No,” He shakes his head repeatedly, as if he’s scolding himself. “No, of course not liefde,” Liefde. At least, he still calls you that— hadn’t heard it from him in what feels like forever.
You stare at him, images from your argument flashing through your mind; all the things you called him, asshole, douchebag, selfish, ungrateful— but at the end of the day, he’s still your Joost, walking into your bedroom to apologize, like a kid asking their parents to sleep in bed with them.
You purse your lips, attempting to hide the smile that tugs at the corners of your mouth. “Okay. I believe you,”
Joost also smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek as he hugs you. You wrap an arm around him, stroking his back, allowing yourself to melt into his touch. “I’m sorry,” He mumbles, his lips grazing your ear as he caresses your hair, leaving another kiss to your temple.
You smile, letting out a dry chuckle. “It’s okay. I wasn’t any better either,”
His kisses don’t stop, but rather his lips wander off to your cheek, then lower to your jaw, before he’s fully kissing you again. You kiss him back slowly— it feels somewhat different, in a good way; like all the doubts and fears have left and the only thing present is pure love, just you and the Joost you fell in love with, his lips on yours.
He pulls back shortly after, leaving you to take a deep breath. “Lie down for me baby,” His tone is soft, yet compelling and you can’t help but do as he says, wordlessly leaning back onto the pillow. He slightly hovers over you, takes his shirt off in a quick motion as you stare up at him; perfection, that’s what he is to you. And it hurts to think that he doesn’t realize how much you love him, and how precious he, and this relationship is to you.
“You’re so pretty,” You say as your fingers stroke his hairy chest.
He chuckles, a shy smile gracing his lips. “Not as pretty as you,” He leans lower to kiss you, propping himself up on one hand, burying himself in your neck. There, he kisses you more, open-mouthed kisses and soft bites on your skin that are sure to stain your neck with hickeys. You sigh in pleasure, opening your legs to give him more space. Joost wastes no time as he adjusts himself atop you, until his crotch is right above yours. You can feel him through his sweatpants, his hard-on evident even over the soft fabric of your pajama shorts. Breathing deeply when the tip of his cock brushes against your crotch, an action than repeats itself, causing you both to let out a mixture of sounds that fill the room.
“Missed this,” Joost mumbles, his lips still roaming around your neck. “Missed hearing you like this,”
“I know,” You breathe out. If only he could hear your thoughts right now; he’d see how much of a toll this situation had taken on you, having him be so close to you but so far at the same time.
You feel his cock twitch, the sensation coaxing a sharp breath out of you. He raises your shirt up to your collarbones, cupping your boobs in his soft hands; his touch makes you dizzy, the way he handles your body. Wet kisses on your pulse, your moans getting louder and harder to suppress with each thrust of his body.
“Fuck,” He laughs against your neck, “Need you,” He draws back from your neck to look at you; you probably look like a dumb puppy looking up at him, unable to suppress your smile— you really did miss him that much, and now it feels so good having him this close again, almost like it’s not real.
“What?” You laugh.
“Have I told you how pretty you look today?”
A sudden heat rushes through you, a pinkish color spreading across your face. “Nah, you were too busy fighting with me for that,” You tease.
He laughs, “Fuck you,”
“That’s what I’m waiting for,” You protest.
Joost clicks his tongue before he finally pushes himself back up, now stabilizing himself on his knees on the mattress, “You horny woman,” He chastises, shaking his head in feigned disapproval as he begins to take off his sweatpants.
You stare at him wordlessly, only a soft smile lingering on your lips. He’s breathing heavily as he lowers his grey sweatpants down to his knees, before he does the same thing with this his boxers, his cock springing free.
He pats your thigh, “Let’s take these off,” You slightly lift yourself up so that Joost can slip your pajama shorts off, tossing them somewhere on the floor. Your panties feel wet, momentarily sticking to your skin as he begins to lower them down your legs, and suddenly, you’re both so exposed, yet so comfortable in each other’s presence.
“The most beautiful body,” Joost coos, a smirk tugging at his lips as he places a kiss to your belly. “And face of course,” Another kiss to your cheek.
“Oh please,” You scoff at the cheesiness, despite how much you secretly love it when he gets like this.
Joost chuckles, parting your legs a little more. He presses two fingers on your clit, gently rubbing it in circles, causing your breath to hitch. Smirking to himself as he nuzzles his face against your thighs, his hot breath on your pussy.
You take a look, the mere image of Joost snuggled up between your legs enough for you to abandon any hesitation or grudge against him.
You tousle his hair, fingers entangled between his blonde locks. His tongue teases your clit, your legs jerking at the tingling sensation before Joost hooks his arms around them, keeping them parted and steady.
“Relax,” His deep voice vibrates through your core, and you sigh; relax? Was that even possible in this scenario? Weeks of fighting, of not touching each other, and you’re supposed to relax? You feel so vulnerable, so sensitive that even a soft kiss to your clit is enough to make you squirm under him.
“Go on,” You say, your voice whiny.
A smirk tugs at his lips; you feel his tongue delve inside you, gently at first before his lips fully envelop your pussy; you watch as Joost eats you out, keeping his eyes locked in yours the entire time. Your moans get louder, quicker before you’re full-on whimpering with the way he handles you.
You tug at his hair strands, too drawn by your own pleasure to apologize for possibly hurting him. Your legs begin to shake, squeezing Joost’s head even tighter, back arching at the overstimulation; you’re close, so close actually that before you can even say anything to him, you reach your orgasm with a loud yelp. Joost persists, the lingering sensation of his mouth on you making your brain go numb.
He hums against your pussy, lapping it with his tongue one final time before he pulls back, lips glossy and his cheeks a vibrant pink; he smiles, blue eyes lighting up at the sight of you, blissed out, trying to catch your breath. Smiling because he’s the only one who can make you feel like this, bring those sweet sounds out of you, make you feel so good even after breaking your heart.
He sits his face on your stomach; now he’s the one who looks like a puppy. You chuckle, furrowing your brows,
“What is it,”
Joost’s eyes flicker to your boobs, then to your face again as he groans. “I need to fuck you,”
“So romantic,”
“Always,” He rises up from his position, reaching over to the bedside table, in hopes to find a condom in one of the drawers; lucky for you both, there’s a last one in there, tossed between other things. Joost takes the condom, using his teeth to tear the wrapper open before he slips it on.
You once again bend your knees, a new wave of arousal washing over you at the thought of what’s to come.
Joost grabs the base of his cock as he comes forward, lining himself up with your entrance, not before he swipes his shaft over your folds in a quick motion, earning a small moan from you.
“Ready?” He asks in a soft voice, thoughtful of your sensitivity.
“Yeah,”
With that, he pushes himself inside of you at a slow speed. You gasp, your back arching as his cock moves further into your core.
“Feels so good already,” His tone is low, breathy, it makes your head dizzy. He once again slowly pulls out of you, until only the tip is teasing your hole, before he sinks into you at an unprompted speed that draws a sharp moan out of both of you.
He continues the pattern, sweet nothings muttered in between each deep thrust. You can’t help the choked sobs that fall from your lips as he fucks you so perfectly, with so much care and love behind his strong grasp on your waist. One of his hands reaches up to cup your boob, softly playing with it as leans forward to press a kiss to your jaw. He feels sweaty, his shallow breaths hot against your skin.
You hear him mumble something incoherent from between your neck, slightly straining your neck to look at him. “Huh?”
He raises his head a little, propping himself up on his hands so that he’s able to look down at you,
“I love you,” He says, gritting his teeth as he picks up the pace, “I’m sorry liefde,” Guilt lingering on his voice.
You smile, “Joost it’s- it’s okay,” You breathe out, hardly getting the words out with how fast he’s thrusting his cock into you; if his words weren’t so sweet, you’d think he was mad at you given his unforgiving pace. “It’s over now,” You reassure him, kissing him sloppily.
“My baby, I love you so much,” He says in your ear, his voice strained. You embrace him, not caring about how suffocating his heavy body feels atop you. The room feels even hotter than before, the air sticking to your body like a magnet.
“Fuck Joost,” You blurt out, a loud cry slipping from your lips as he hits the most perfect spot inside of you, your climax unmistakably close. “I love you- too,”
Joost’s cock twitches, his thrusts becoming sloppier, “Yeah? Say it again baby,”
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” You repeat as you’re hit with a sudden wave of pleasure, erupting in loud moans. You squeeze your eyes shut, letting yourself ride out your high, incoherent words expressing all the love for him along the way.
Joost is breathing heavily against your neck, groaning as he uses every last bit of energy to push himself into you, the dirty sound of slapping skin filling the room. At last, he comes inside of you, his drawn out, breathy moan ringing in your ears.
He pulls out of you, before returning to hugging you. Your strenuous breaths fill the silence of the room, as you drink in your afterglow. You take this moment to cuddle him, your chin touching his hair as he lays his head on your chest, taking a moment to think.
“I’m so lucky to have you,”
A smile graces your lips, “Me too,” Playing with his hair as he plants soft kisses along your collarbone. “Please, let’s not let it get this bad again,” You whisper, caressing his cheek.
He nods, smiling softly. “Okay,” Letting his head rest on your chest again as you drown in your thoughts.
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tysm for readinggahhhsg… this is honestly not the best thing I’ve written, but its okay 🧘‍♀️🧘‍♀️ looking back at this now, i feel like the smut should have been longer ughhh
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cobaltperun · 8 hours ago
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Tara who has a crush on the cute barista reader??? Love your fics
5 Times You Made Coffee and 1 Time You Didn't
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(Request) Tara Carpenter x GN! Reader
Masterlist
Word count: 3.1k
Tara knew she should have been more careful, she knew she should have been cautions of every stranger. First Amber and Richie, then Quinn and Ethan, and she shivered at the very thought if how many times Sidney got betrayed and targeted.
But you were so cute. With that smile, standing out from all the polite smiles of the other barista. And you made perfect coffee, so perfect she now made it her mission to bring as many people, which admittedly and given her social circle wasn't all that many, to your coffee shop when it was your shift.
This time she was here with Mindy, after a long day of classes. "Good afternoon," you smiled at Mindy and then turned toward Tara. "Tara," your already warm smile widened and she almost thought she didn't even need coffee after the burst of energy she got just from seeing you.
"Hey, Y/N," she smiled back at you, hoping her crush wasn't that obvious.
“The usual?” you asked her and she nodded, you’ve been making a cappuccino for her for weeks now and it didn’t take you long to figure out that was her coffee of choice. “And for you?” you turned to Mindy.
“Could I get an espresso?” Mindy asked and you nodded.
“Right away,” you backed away and Tara looked down, blushing at Mindy’s questioning look.
“Spill it, T,” Mindy demanded and pointed at you in the most obvious way. “You have a crush on them and it’s visible from a plane.”
She didn’t have to put it like that. “I just think they are cute,” she didn’t deny her crush. “I just have a good feeling about them, you know?” and she knew a good feeling wasn’t enough anymore, but she had to believe it would be enough this time.
Mindy opened her mouth but then changed her mind and instead just hummed. “Let’s judge their coffee making skills first, you’ll be needing someone who can get your coffee just right,” Mindy grinned and Tara was happy Mindy was the first to find out about you. She knew Chad had a bit of a crush on her, and Sam was… well, Sam, she was protective.
“It’s better than just right,” she assured her of your skills, that was the one thing she couldn’t deny no matter what. You got it just right when she first tried it, and she just asked for a pinch of cocoa powder the second time and since then the cappuccino you made her was flawless.
Before her and Mindy could even start talking you came with their coffees and Tara reached for her wallet. “It’s taken care of,” you winked at her and walked over to the other table before she could say anything. Tara watched you, speechless, as she always was when you just told her the coffee was on the house.
Somehow, she was sure it had nothing to do with your parents owning the place. You would have treated her even if you just worked there.
“You weren’t kidding, they know how to make coffee,” Mindy commented as she took a sip of her espresso.
“Mhm,” she agreed absentmindedly, still paying attention to you.
“Classes weren’t really all that bad today,” Mindy commented, prompting yet another ‘mhm’ from Tara. You were preparing a coffee with utmost care, and there was definitely a reason why Tara kept sitting at this exact spot. It was easy to sneak glances your way from her seat.
“The Babadook sucks,” Mindy said and she once more agreed before Mindy snapped her fingers right in front of Tara’s face.
“Earth to Lover Girl, can you at least pretend we’re not here so you can make googly eyes at your crush?” Mindy was stuck between being amused and annoyed.
“Fine, fine, what did you just say?” she asked but Mindy just stuck her tongue out and Tara rolled her eyes. From the corner of her eyes she caught you smiling at her as you dried a glass you just washed.
About an hour later Tara approached you with the coffee cups. “Thank you, they were amazing, as always,” she told you as you reached over the counter to take them.
“Could I interest you in trying some other coffees? Only drinking cappuccino will make it taste bland over time,” you suggested and gestured at the chair near the bar. “Might be a good way to get to know each other, assuming I’m not misinterpreting things, of course,” you looked confident, but there was a small hint of shyness in your gaze. As if you’ve been trying to ask her this for some time now.
“Sure, I’ll leave my coffee order in your hands,” she accepted a bit too eagerly and you grinned together.
~X~
The next time she came to the coffee shop she sat down close to you, alone and eager to see what you had in mind for the first coffee testing, as Tara dubbed it.
“I’m all yours, barista,” she winked at you, not entirely catching on to what she just said.
You took it like a champ though, not even flinching at the potential double meaning as you prepared her coffee and Tara would love to say she could follow what you were doing but there was a reason she was desperately reliant on a coffee machine or shops like this one. Eventually you placed a small glass in front of her.
“Ristretto, comes from Italy, basically a stronger espresso. Same amount of coffee, in half the water,” it was early in the morning and she did have a long day ahead of her.
She nodded and brought the glass closer to her.
“So, how come you are a barista? I mean, besides your parents owning the place?” Tara asked, not yet ready to drink the coffee and be on her way.
You leaned over the counter. “Coffee is a bit of a passion for me, I love making it, and trying different variations,” you replied and she could see the honesty in your eyes.
Being passionate about coffee wasn’t what she expected but somehow, given how good you were at making it, she immediately believed it.
“I’m happy you can pursue your passion,” when was the last time she could pursue her own passions without looking behind her shoulder?
“It helps that I get to meet beautiful girls, like your friend last week,” you smirked, teasing her slightly.
She tried the coffee, and it was definitely strong, but there was some sweetness to it. “And what am I?” she chose to be bold, leaning slightly closer to you as she asked that.
You moved your hand until it was right next to her and offered it to her, and she accepted, putting her hand on top of your own. “You, Tara, are more than just beautiful.”
“Real smooth, Y/N,” she snickered but she would be lying if she said the compliment didn’t feel nice.
~X~
“Something lighter this time,” the moment Tara stepped into the coffee shop you placed a coffee cup at her newfound place at the bar.
“Am I that predictable?” Tara asked, actually slightly concerned about it. If you could time making the coffee for her after only knowing her for a short period of time. Could someone intending to hurt her learn her patterns this easily?
“Every single morning at 9:27 you walk through those doors,” you shrugged and she figured she unconsciously did start doing that.
She still rolled her eyes and sat down at her seat. She looked at her coffee.
“Café au lait, French this time. Coffee with warm milk,” you explained, correcting her assumption that it was just regular white coffee.
“You’re the expert,” she smiled and tried the coffee, and the only thing that crossed her mind was that she should have gotten you to experiment with her coffee taste sooner. “I swear I only tolerated coffee, but you’ll make me love it,” she sighed, almost dreamily at the light taste.
“That’s the idea,” you grinned but unlike last time when you could stay and chat with her, this time the coffee shop was busy, and you had to do your job. You still had the time to ask her about how her day went yesterday and how she did on the exam she had.
And it made her feel like her heart would lean out of her chest.
~X~
It took some time before you offered her a new coffee. You liked surprising her with new coffees randomly and over that period of time you met both Chad and Sam, both meetings went surprisingly well.
Tara had a gut feeling she would be trying a new coffee today as she walked into the coffee shop and saw you heating up water in some thin and tall pot. “Hey, Tara,” you said without turning to look at her and she leaned over the bar to watch you work. “Come over to this side,” you invited her and she happily rushed to your side. She just now realized this was the closest the two of you were, even closer than when you would bring her coffee to the table. So, instead of turning into a tomato, she focused on what you were doing. You added ground coffee to the boiling water and soon enough it began frothing.
“Watch out!” she exclaimed out of habit, but you just grinned and lifted it up, before lowering it back onto the stove and Tara watched as the coffee began frothing again.
“Trust the process,” you told her and lifted it again just as it reached the top of the pot and then did it again one last time before pouring it into two porcelain coffee cups. “Try it without sugar at first, then add it if you need to,” you said and placed cups in front of the chair next to your own. You patted the spot next to you and Tara hopped onto the chair, happy to be sharing coffee with you for the very first time.
“Which one is this?” she asked, the strong scent immediately woke her up, and while it was bitter it had a taste just as strong as the scent. It was bitter enough that she needed to add a bit of sugar to it.
“Turkish, you saw the process, and that,” you pointed at the thin and tall pot. “Is most often called a cezve,” you explained and took a sip of the coffee, clearly enjoying yourself.
Tara smiled, leaning a bit closer to you, enjoying the warmth of the coffee and your presence.
~X~
“Caffè mocha!” she knew this one, she never really went out of her way to try it, but she knew it, and she was proud to show you she could name what you just made for her.
“Mhm,” you were drinking with her behind the counter again, as it was a habit you seemed to develop ever since you made that Turkish coffee for her. “Figured you deserved something sweet for getting an A on that exam,” you nudged her lightly and she grinned, all happy and proud.
“You know it,” she looked at you and felt ready to finally take that next step. In fact, she’s been trying to get herself hyped up to say it since your meeting with Sam went well. “Say, Y/N,” she began and cleared her throat.
“Yeah?” your full attention was on her, made possible by lack of customers at the moment and Tara thanked whatever higher being arranged for that to happen.
“I want to make coffee for you,” she said and you raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by her offer. “Come and hang out at my place? I mean, Sam will be there because she is really protective, but uh, yeah, come to my place,” she stopped herself before she could start rambling.
“I’d love that,” you said and that was when her luck ran out, as a customer came into the coffee shop and you had to go and get his order. “I’d absolutely love that,” you leaned over and kissed her on the cheek and Tara pumped her fist and cheered quietly, much to your amusement.
~X~
You couldn't remember the last time you were this nervous; after all a beautiful girl just invited you to her apartment. Granted with her older sister present as well, but she did invite you. You looked up at the building in front of you, it was almost daunting with how many floor it had and as far as you knew there were no elevators and Tara lived on the top floor. You still had no idea why, or why Sam was as protective of Tara as she was.
You understood older sibling protectiveness, but Sam took it to the next level.
“I can do this,” you hyped yourself up and typed in the code Tara gave you. The heavy metal doors opened, and you stepped in, beginning the long journey up the stairs. Well, at least this was a good test to see if you were still in shape. And it turned out you were still in good shape! Which was great because otherwise you would have had a lot of troubles keeping your heart rate normal. Your heart was already beating faster than it should just because you were about to meet up with Tara but that was beside the point, at least you didn’t have to worry about whether you were or weren’t in shape. You reached the door of her apartment and took another deep breath. “I can do this,” you whispered to yourself, and you checked the flower bouquet and the box of chocolates you brought. Frankly speaking, you may have dressed to impress a bit too much, but knowing Tara she would find it endearing.
At least you hoped she would.
You were just about to knock when the door suddenly opened and you were met with the girl you had a crush on for the past several weeks. Could the ground beneath your feet just open and swallow you whole? This was too embarrassing! “Oh, hi!” you stammered embarrassed as she caught you in front of her own doors like a dumbass who couldn't even get the courage to knock on the doors of the girl that invited them in herself.
“Hi,” she blushed and looked down and you found yourself thinking she looked so adorable like this. And then you both just laughed because you were both ridiculously shy about this. All that confidence you had back at the coffee shop was seemingly gone, as it was blown away by the wind blowing around the building. “Oh, shit, sorry, come on in!” Tara seemed to realize she was blocking your entrance and stepped aside letting you come in and join her inside.
“Right, thank you for having me,” you cleared your throat and gave her the flowers and the box of chocolates. “Uh, this is for you. I didn't know what you liked so I just went with the cliche option,” you nervously rubbed the back of your neck as heat rushed to your cheeks. Tara smiled and took it from you, and her fingers brushed against your own.
“Thanks, I love it,” and so you went inside followed her to the living room where Sam was already waiting.
“Hello, Sam,” you nodded, greeting her and she nodded back.
“Come on sit down, I won't bite,” Sam smiled kindly at you and gestured towards the sofa “Tara's been really nervous about impressing you, just so you know,” her words cause Tara to adorably blush once more.
“Sam please,” the younger Carpenter sister groaned and seemed to make herself even smaller than she was and then she just pointed toward what you assumed was the kitchen. “I’m just going to go and make coffee.”
Unlike you, she had a way to flee.
But that meant you would be alone with Sam.
“Wait! Do you need help? You know, since I am a professional and all that,” you were grasping at straws, pleading for mercy, because anything would be better than being along with Sam. Even all these weeks after you met her she still made you nervous. Tara seemed to relax at seeing you were just as nervous as she was, if not more and she laughed patting you on the back.
“I think I can handle myself,” well, as long as she felt better you figured you could take some teasing. Resigning to your fate you just sighed and sat down as Tara left you and Sam alone.
“So, what are your intentions with my sister?” Sam asked without a hint of joking, she was completely serious, and you choked on air, only to then hear her chuckling. “Relax I'm just messing with you. Let's just wait for Tara to come back with coffee.”
Well, that was a relief. So, you sat there in silence, and you had a feeling this was only awkward for you, from the looks of it for Sam it was more amusing slash comfortable. Finally, after way too much time, Tara came back with three coffee mugs and she sat down next to you. You recognized the smell the moment she stepped into the living room and you couldn’t describe how happy you were.
“I've been practicing,” she confessed and it showed because the coffee smelled wonderful.
“Cortado,” you would recognize the scent anywhere and she, from the looks of it, did it perfectly.
Tara smacked her forehead in frustration “Damn, I was sure you wouldn't guess it. Guess that’s a pro for you,” she, clearly still annoyed, handed a twenty dollar bill to a rather satisfied Sam.
“It's one of my favorites actually,” you confessed and her eyes widened at that.
“So how come you never made it for me?” she sounded offended as if something special between you just became a tiny bit less special.
“It's not on the menu, and well I like to keep this one for special people. And in private, can't have customers smelling this and asking about it,” you shrugged and took the sip of the coffee. You were right, it really was perfect, even more so since Tara was the one who made it for you.
“Fine, you goofball, but you're making it for me next time. At your own apartment,” you could work with that even if Sam nearly choked when Tara said that.
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burningcheese-merchant · 2 days ago
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Psst, hear me out: The Beast being fucking yanderes with the ancients.
You Get It™️ I mean... Did you guys see episode 6? Burning Simp Cookie is already a yandere lol. He's been there and he refuses to leave. And Shadow Milk is honestly not that far behind, he feels some type of way towards Pure Vanilla and it would be cute if it wasn't so sad and creepy lol
Really though, I just love hero/villain ships in general (always have, since long before Cookie Run ever existed) and I get a kick out of villains acting stupid over crushes (read: obsessions), and acting stupid in general. There's just something about a villain being in love with the hero to a psychotic, comical degree, and the hero rebuffing them at every turn that's just really amusing to me lol. Like what Joker sort of has with Batman, you know?
Here are my Yandere Beasts in bare-bones terms:
Burning Spice: come on, if you've read my stuff, you know EXACTLY what Yandere Spice is like lol. If not, I'll refer you to this and this, as well as my fics on AO3. If those don't tell you what Yandere Spice is like then idk how else to help you lol
Shadow Milk: if the final boss of theater/drama kids had a crush but was also a malignant narcissist of some sort lol. Absolutely DESPERATE for Vanilla's attention at all times. If he's not actively trying to worm into Vanilla's brain and harass him in his thoughts and dreams, he's in the real world brainstorming better ways to do that lol. He does not grasp why the creepy puppet shows and gaslighting attempts aren't convincing Vanilla to fall in love with him. Will attack and torment and insult Vani in one breath and then praise and love and worship him in another, because he's a histrionic clown freak with whirlwind emotions. But above all else, he literally thinks he owns Vani and is meticulously plotting the horrible and hilarious demise of any and all he perceives as a threat to their union
Eternal Sugar: World's Laziest Stalker™️. Almost exclusively haunts Holly in her dreams (I have to assume that that's what her power will entail, as the Beast of Sloth); however, she's more "effective" in her wooing attempts due to her past experience as the Herald of Happiness. She actually goes out of her way to construct dreams and the like that have things in them that make Holly happy (or what she thinks makes Holly happy; she, as well as the others, has big tunnel vision and is very selfish and self-absorbed, and thus pays more lip service to her own wants than those of who she loves/obsesses over). Thankfully doesn't run into Holly in person often because that's work... but sometimes she DOES work up the nerve to go after her for real, and... well
Mystic Flour: Denial, denial, denial. Not just a river in Egypt the Golden Cheese Kingdom, but she'll say and act like otherwise. No, she does not like Dark Cacao. He robbed her of her volition and the chance to enact her will. He prevented her from freeing the world from pain and suffering. He is a stubborn fool who refuses to understand the truth. He... is very handsome. She does not like how handsome he is. It is distracting. She doesn't like dwelling on her memories of him and their encounters. She doesn't like how she came to harbor a single kernel of respect in her heart after he stood his ground against her; a kernel that she inadvertently nurtured and cultivated slowly but surely, until... no. No, she doesn't like Dark Cacao. She doesn't think about him all day. She doesn't want to try to lure him back to her land so she can trap him in the flour fog with her again. She doesn't miss feeling his dark eyes on her. She doesn't deeply resent his attachment to his people, and seek to transfer that attachment to her instead. No, she... damn it, he's ruined her. He's made her feel things again. He's made her succumb to selfishness and greed, to earthly desire and attachment - desire for HIM, attachment to HIM. All of her hard work and enlightenment gone to waste... She doesn't want to like Dark Cacao, she recognizes the folly in such a thing, but she's stuck - and so stuck is she that not only does she not really see a way out, she doesn't WANT one. She's become too content with her attachment to him too quickly. Now she has to agonize over her own foolishness, and try to keep denying that she doesn't care while also longing for his attention and wanting to do away with all that steals his attention away from her
Silent Salt: probably the least awful of the five, but he's still creepy and that's not a high bar to clear anyway lol. Has a better grasp on "normal" behavior than the others (like... he pays attention to what White Lily likes/wants and tries to adjust accordingly), but he's following her around everywhere and acting extremely violent and territorial over her towards anyone who he catches approaching her. He's legitimately, surprisingly sweet and gentle towards her; he brings her flowers, he listens to her when she asks/tells him something, he's more or less respectful of her personal space (he will try to be as physically close to her as possible, but actually backs off a little if she asks him to, only to try again, and so on and so forth)... but he's still a villain, he's still violent and creepy, he still gets angry when she pays attention to other people for too long and he has brought actual harm to others out of jealousy. He's the best of the worst but that really doesn't mean much of anything, he's still a psycho creep like the others
In short, they form a tight-knit coalition of absolutely fucking deranged freakazoids and they should all probably die :)
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Love the not who he seems au!
I've got some(a lot of?) questions if that's alright?
After Ford finally wakes up, you mentioned that Bill watches over the littler twins' dreams, does he do something similar with Stan? do they chat in the Mindscape or anything? does he avoid Stan?
what are(of there are?) the immediate consequences to the relationship between them now that Ford is awake?
Has 'Stanfraud' ever had any interactions with any Unicorn hair?
What would happen if Stanfraud/Bill ever got any on him? Would he have an allergic reaction? Or other ill reactions?
Have the time police ever given Stanfraud/Bill any trouble?
In the 30 years that Stan and Bill have known each other, have they ever saved each other's life? Or gotten protective/defensive for each other?
Alright that's all for now! Bye!
Lots of questions are always alright!
Let’s go through all these:
— He definitely does it with Stan too. He doesn’t really have any reason to avoid Stan, except Ford obviously being against it. But… he won’t tell if Stan won’t. He makes excuses as to why he’s visiting Stan’s dreams so much, which Stan doesn’t comment on, he’s just oddly grateful he’s still around. And bleeding into the next question: this all being said, a few old angers have risen to the surface, seeing how broken down his brother is again, knowing Bill’s behind it, so sometimes their conversations get a little tense and Bill does avoid him for a few days after. Or he doesn’t, and gets a little to pushy, lashing out at Stan.
It doesn’t help that Stan feels some guilt still speaking with Bill because of Ford, and because of how adamant his brother has been about Bill being a threat to them. But, it isn’t as easy as just telling him to go away. He knows for a fact Bill wouldn’t listen. The kids would be upset too. They don’t now the depths of all this stuff.
And, not an immediate consequence, but the new tension will eventually bubble into a very intense argument between Stan and Bill that’ll probably have consequences for everyone.
— You know, I hadn’t quite considered that, but I think so yes! He has negative reactions to anything that works as an ingredient in repellent against him. Unicorn hair, definitely more of an allergic reaction, akin to something like hay fever. But something like Mercury probably burns him.
— I have thought about their being an ‘episode’ where Bill’s rivalry with Time Baby comes up, thanks to Dipper and Mabel messing with time, but I’d need to think more about that to give a proper answer. I don’t think he and Stan have ever been given any trouble prior, being as they haven’t messed with time themselves. Bill might try and get a rise out of any time agents if he spots them though, like Blendin. Just for fun.
— They have absolutely saved each other’s lives and that’s a catalyst in their relationship becoming what it is. This is another thing I need to think more on, but being as Stan didn’t fake his death, unfortunately some of his past comes back to haunt him, with old friends putting two and two together with his fake identities. I’m not sure where that would go yet, but I know Bill would step in and rescue him. Naturally, he claims it’s because he needs Stan to get out of this body, but he isn’t really convincing when he says that. There’s also likely a situation where Bill has gotten himself in danger, and Stan rescues him, but I haven’t settled on that. There’s probably a few more minor instances of them saving each other too.
And yes! They do get protective/defensive over each other. On Stan’s end it’s strange. Initially, he was having to protect Ford’s body from Bill. Bill was the threat. But now, he sometimes finds himself actually protecting Bill… because he’s his friend. He’ll jump to his defence about his behaviours if someone comments on them harshly for example. He’s the only one allowed to give him shit for being weird. And with Bill, he’s gone from trying to rile Stan up, calling him useless, a failure of a brother, to getting riled up himself when someone tries to have a go at Stan instead.
If either got physically hurt, they’d also be protective. They genuinely have each other’s backs. Stan at least has the excuse he’s looking out for his brother’s body, making sure Bill doesn’t damage it any further, and can poke fun at Bill later for not having an excuse.
“Sure you don’t just give a shit about this old ‘bag of flesh’?”
“Oh, please. Don’t flatter yourself, Fez. Your heart could stop right now and I’d dance over your corpse.”
I realise they’re basically just in a constant game of chicken on who’s going to admit they care out loud first — while sober.
I hope these have been satisfactory! Sorry if there’s a lot of questions I’m still unsure on or figuring out the answers too. I’m developing this AU as I answer all these.
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winchesterwild78 · 1 day ago
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An Unexpected Friendship pt 2
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Master List
Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Reader’s daughter, Jensen’s children
Warnings/Trigger Warnings: mention of domestic violence, mention of character death, 
A/N: This is a short story written in collaboration with @cheekygirl2309. In this story the reader is a widow who has a 4 year old daughter. She’s dating a very abusive man, so she enrolls her daughter in preschool to keep her as shielded as possible. At the preschool we find her daughter has made friends with a set of twins. At pick up one day the reader realizes the parent of her daughter’s best friend is none other than Jensen Ackles. A friendship forms, and decisions are made after a particularly nasty fight with her boyfriend. 
No disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life.
This chapter got a bit long….sorry.
Minors DNI 18+
Jensen arrived home late. Jared was sleeping on the couch when he came inside. “Hey Jar, wake up man.” Jensen said quietly. Jared stretched, “Oh hey man. How’s Y/N?” 
Jensen’s head hung slightly, “Not good man. He almost killed her. She’s in a medically induced coma because he beat her up so badly.” Jared’s mouth fell open, “Damn man. I’m sorry to hear that. How’s her daughter?” “She’s okay. She’s going to be staying with Y/N’s best friend.” “That’s good. At least she has someone she knows.” “Yeah, she’s friends with Arrow and Zep. They are in the same class, I just wish there was more I could do to help both of them. I know Arrow and Zep really like Jazmyne.”
“Well man, thanks for watching the kids for me, you should head home.” “Yeah, of course, and Jensen, I do hope Y/N’s gonna be okay. No one deserves what she went through.” Jensen just nodded in agreement, his words caught in his throat as he thought about how she looked in the bed. He had never understood how someone could do that to another person. It upset him, and made him so angry.
After Jared left, Jensen crawled into bed. He had to be up in a few hours to take the kids to school. He tossed and turned most of the night. His heart ached for Y/N and Jazmyne. The fear in her voice when she called him, the look on Jazmyne’s face and how she clung to him, and how bruised and battered you looked in the bed. All of it playing like a record in his head. 
He finally fell asleep for what felt like ten minutes before his alarm went off. Jensen grumbled as he turned off the alarm and crawled out of bed. He jumped in the shower and got dressed. 
Walking through the quiet house his mind drifted to his late wife. She was not only an amazing wife and mother, but an amazing person. She would volunteer at JJ’s school, while juggling working at the brewery, other projects she worked on, and holding down the household while Jensen was away filming. When she got pregnant with the twins after years of trying, her and Jensen were ecstatic. She went to every appointment, asked every question she could think of and made sure they were ready to bring home not one, but two newborns. 
When she died during their birth, Jensen’s soul was crushed. His arms full with their newborns, but empty at the same time. Family and friends rallied around him to help with all three children, but he was lost. His wife, his partner, the love of his life, was gone. 
He didn’t know why Jazmyne’s father wasn’t in the picture, but he was sure it had to be something significant. Now you were dealing with Robert and his abusive nature. Jensen didn’t understand why he felt so protective of you so quickly. He hardly knew you. 
About an hour after he got up the kids were awake and ready for school. He took JJ to school first and then the twins to school. Walking towards the entrance he saw Jazmyne and Nichole. The twins ran to Jazmyne and Jensen chuckled. 
“Good morning Jazzy and Nichole. How are you two today?” Jazmyne’s eyes went wide when she saw Jensen. Nichole offered a soft smile. “Hey, can I talk to you after drop off?” Nichole asked Jensen. “Of course. I wanted to talk to you too.” They walked the kids in and agreed to meet at the coffee shop around the corner to talk. 
Once at the coffee shop, Jensen got the coffees and Nichole grabbed a table. “Hey, thanks for meeting with me. I just wanted to tell you thank you for everything last night. I’m sure it wasn’t how you expected to spend your evening. I’m sure by now you know Y/N was in an abusive relationship with a guy named Robert. She ended it with him and he came back. I feel so guilty for not doing everything I could to get him away from her. He didn’t start out hitting her. Then she’d show up with bruises and marks. Her late husband, Josh, would never have laid his hands on her.” 
Jensen sat there listening and taking in everything she was saying. “So how did Josh pass?” Jensen finally asked. “When Jazzy was almost 2 he got hurt in an accident at work and was killed. I didn’t think Y/N would ever recover. He was the love of her life. She got so depressed and lonely we thought we were going to lose her too. Then one day we showed up and she was up and smiling. I know she was putting on a show for us, but I think eventually she got a little better. It took us forever to convince her to go out on a date, and then she ended up with this jackass.” 
“I’m so sorry to hear she lost her husband. I lost my wife when she gave birth to the twins. I’m still not over it completely and I don’t think I ever will be. Is there anything I can do to help Y/N, Jazzy or you?”
“Honestly, you being there for her and Jazzy is great. I’d definitely like to plan that play date. Jazzy is going to need as much support as possible. She’s going to miss Y/N and she won’t understand why she can’t see her.” 
“Yeah, I get it. Hopefully she heals quickly enough and Jazzy can see her. I know they are very close.” 
After about thirty minutes, Jensen and Nichole parted ways. Nichole was headed to Y/N’s house to get some things for Jazmyne, Jensen was headed to the hospital. 
Walking down the cool hallway, the air thick with the unmistakable smell of a hospital, Jensen’s heart pounded in his chest. Since he lost his wife, hospitals always brought back some anxiety. So being here brought it all back. 
Jensen stood outside your room for a minute. He took a steady breath and started to open the door when a nurse approached him. “Um excuse me, are you family?” Jensen turned and he saw a flash of recognition in the nurse’s face. “Oh hi, yeah. I’m her boyfriend.” 
The nurse’s face flashed with anger and panic. “I don’t think I can let you in her room, sir.” She said looking up at Jensen. Jensen knew what she was thinking, “Oh no ma’am, I’m not the one who did that to her. That was her ex, Robert.” “Still, I need to check with the police officer before I let you in.” 
“Yes ma’am, I understand that. I’ll wait here.” Jensen gestured towards the empty chair outside your room. She nodded and walked towards the desk.
Jensen saw her look over at him while she was on the phone. Then he saw her nod and hang up. She walked over, offered an apologetic smile, “Thank you for waiting, Mr. Ackles. You’re cleared to go in. I’m sorry.” Jensen stood and smiled, “No problem ma’am. I appreciate you keeping her safe.”
She nodded and Jensen walked into your room. He took the chair closest to you and reached for your hand. Taking your hand in his, he rubbed soft circles on the back of your hand while he talked to you. “Hey, Y/N. I just want you to know Jazzy is safe. Nichole is keeping her and I’ve told her if they need anything to let me know. They are still looking for Robert. There’s a warrant out for his arrest, so hopefully they catch him soon. I wish I could make all this go away and you and Jazzy were safe. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” 
Without thinking, Jensen stood, leaned over your bed and placed a kiss on your forehead. He felt a pull towards you and it scared him, because he hardly knew you. 
You had been in the hospital for a little over a week. It was late at night and Jensen was getting ready for bed when his phone rang. “Hello?” Jensen said cautiously. “Oh hey, Jensen it’s Nichole. I really hate to ask you, but could you watch Jazzy. I just got an emergency phone call from my sister. I have to go out of town for a few days. Y/N has no other family here and I don’t know what to do.” 
Jensen immediately said yes. “Yeah, can you bring her over here? The kids are already in bed. I can get her set up in my guestroom for now.” “Oh Jensen, you’re amazing. Thank you. I am so sorry for this. I know you’ve been pulled into this whole situation and now I’m dumping Jazzy off on you.”
“Hey, Nichole, you’re not dumping her off on me. I offered and told you if you needed anything to let me know. I’m fine with it as long as you think Y/N will be too.” “Oh yeah, she would. Can you send me your address? We could be there in less than 30 minutes.” “Yeah, sure. The gate code is 05301202. Just shoot me a text and I’ll make sure I’m downstairs to help you bring her in.” “Thanks, Jensen. See you soon.”
Jensen walked into the guest room and sighed. He had forgotten it was full of boxes and things he needed to donate but hadn’t had time. He didn’t want to wake the twins up so he decided to make a bed on the floor of his room. 
A few minutes later he got a text from Nichole that she was there. He went downstairs and opened the door. She was carrying Jazzy, who was sleeping in her arms. “Want me to take her?” He asked. Nichole shook her head. Jensen carefully took the sleeping child out of Nichole’s arms and carried her upstairs. He laid her down on the floor bed and covered her up. 
Walking back downstairs he helped Nichole bring in Jazzy’s things. 
“Jensen, thank you again for helping. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. My flight leaves in about an hour so I can’t stay long. Please keep me updated on everything with Y/N. I’ve already called the hospital and told them to contact you with any updates. I’ll be in and out of the hospital back home helping and dealing with my grandmother.” Jensen placed his hand on Nichole’s arm, “It’s fine, you go take care of your family, I’ve got your girls. I promise.” She hugged Jensen and then left. 
Jensen crept upstairs and checked on all the kids before crawling into bed. He heard Jazzy’s soft snores and occasional whimper. His heart hurt for her. He knew she missed her mom. His children would do the same thing in their sleep, especially around special days, like birthdays or Mother’s Day.
Jensen finally fell asleep after having his mind race for what felt like forever. When his alarm went off he carefully got up and looked over at Jazmyne. She was still sleeping, and curled into a ball. He grabbed his stuff and tiptoed to the bathroom to get ready. 
As he came out he saw the little girl stir awake. Her eyes wide, taking in the room. “Mommy?” Her little voice filled the quiet room. “Hey Jazzy, Auntie Nichole had to bring you here. She had an emergency. You’re going to stay with me, Arrow, Zeppy and JJ until your mommy is better.” She looked at Jensen and nodded. “Like a sleepover?” She asked. Jensen smiled softly, “Yeah, sweetie, like a sleepover.”
A few hours later Jensen found himself back at the hospital sitting beside your bed. The nurses would come in and check on you and him. He would tell them he was fine and didn’t need anything when they asked. Finally the doctor came in and Jensen was out of his chair. He extended his hand, “Hello Dr. Fitzpatrick. It’s good to see you this morning. How’s she healing?” Jensen asked as he gestured to you. “Good morning Mr Ackles, she seems to be healing. We are going to draw some blood this morning and do some scans. See if she’s healed enough to start taking her off the sedation medication.” “That sounds perfect, thank you doctor.”
The nurse came in and drew some blood while Jensen watched on. He sent Nichole a text to check on her and let her know what the doctor said. She didn’t respond yet, so he figured she was busy. He hoped the next time he sent her a text it was to let her know you were awake and okay.
Jensen waited in the room for you to return from the tests. A few hours had passed and they were finally bringing you back in. He had been talking to Jared off and on all day. Jensen even called Clif to get some advice on how to keep you and Jazzy protected. 
He was on the phone with Jared when the technician was wheeling you back in. “Yeah, she’s back now. Hang on a sec, Jar.” The tech told Jensen the doctor would review all the tests and be in shortly to go over it. Jensen nodded and thanked him. 
“Well that sounds promising, I hope she’s going to be okay. Are you leaving soon to get the kids?” Jared asked. “Yeah. I’ll leave in about an hour. I hope the doctor is here before then.” “Hey, Jensen, why don’t we bring the kids over and we can all eat dinner and the kids can play together. I think that would be good for Jazmyne and you won’t be alone.” “That sounds great, Jar. What can I do or buy?” “Nothing, Gen and I will take care of everything.” “Okay, thanks brother.” “Yeah, no problem, and if you need us to grab the kids we can.” “Okay, thanks. Talk to you soon.” 
Jensen sat beside your bed, holding your hand. He watched your chest rise and fall, and listened to the steady beep of the machines. Jensen felt drawn to you. It confused but excited him. He’d never felt an instant connection with someone, an instant need to protect them. Like he does with you. Even with his late wife it took him a while to open up. 
There was a soft knock on the door that pulled Jensen out of his thoughts. It was Dr. Fitzpatrick. “Good afternoon Mr. Ackles. So I’ve reviewed her blood work and the scans we took. There isn’t any internal bleeding, no injuries to her brain and her ribs and other broken bones are starting to heal. I don’t see why we can’t start bringing her out of sedation. We can start the process immediately. She still has a long road to recovery, and will need to stay here at least another day or two, but I believe she’s going to be okay.”
Jensen smiled, stood and shook the doctor’s hand. He called Jared and told him what the doctor said, “Jar, I really want to be here. Do you or Gen mind grabbing the kids from school. I’ll call the headmaster and let her know you can get Jazzy too. I really appreciate it man.” “Hey, no problem. I’m glad she’s going to be coming back soon.” “Me too, thanks again Jared.” 
Jensen sent Nichole a text to let her know what the doctor said. She replied that she was excited and to give you her love. 
Jensen sat right beside you as the sedation medication was removed. They told him it could take a few minutes or a few hours for you to start waking up. He nodded and kept watch. 
When you began to stir about an hour later and your eyes started to flutter, Jensen was on the edge of the seat. “Hey, Y/N. That’s right sweetheart, open those eyes for us.” Jensen encouraged. 
Your eyes fluttered open and confusion began to fill you. Your voice was very weak, but you managed to speak. “Jjjensen, what are you doing here?” He stepped closer to you and placed his hand on your shoulder, “Hey, Y/N. I’m so glad you’re awake. You’ve been missed.” “How long have I been out?” “Over a week, but don’t worry Jazzy has been well taken care of. Nichole had a family emergency so I offered to take her. The twins have loved having her at the house.” 
Tears filled your eyes, “Why are you being so kind to us?” “Because that’s what you do when someone needs help.” Jensen smiled gently at you. “So, Y/N, how are you feeling?” “I’m very sore, and just heartbroken. I can’t believe I let him in our lives. My sweet girl had to see some of the abuse. I’m so stupid and weak. I didn’t want to be alone anymore, so I allowed this monster into our lives. How do I keep her safe when I can’t keep myself safe?”
“You tell her that some people are just mean and those people will try and find your weakness. You work like hell to protect yourself, and when you can’t, you lean on those that can. You tell her that there are more kind people in this world than there are mean ones. Those are the people she needs to surround herself with. People like her mother. People who would do anything to keep her safe and protect her from evil. No matter what. Y/N, you’re not weak or stupid for letting someone like Robert in your life. You’re human, and Jazzy will see that. Above all she will see your strength, the strength to make him leave and then fight like hell to survive and stay here for her.” 
Your tears were flowing down your face at Jensen’s words. When he took your hand in his, and wiped away your tears, you leaned into his touch. He was so kind and gentle. Everything you’d heard he was. 
The next few days you had to stay in the hospital were brutal. You’d asked Jensen not to bring Jazzy to see you there. You didn’t want her to see you weak and hooked up to things. He kept her at his house and you got to FaceTime her at night. 
The last night of your hospital stay you were feeling excited to leave, but even more nervous. You’d be going home, and Robert was still out of jail. The police hadn’t been able to track him down and that scared you. Jensen assured you that you and Jazzy would be safe. 
After your FaceTime call with Jazzy, you settled in to try and sleep. Jensen was busy getting all four kids ready for bed. The twins and Jazzy were running around and playing, while JJ was picking out the book for the night. 
After baths, brushed teeth, and pajamas, Jensen had all four kids pile in his bed so he could read. 
After the story was over Zep asked when Y/N was coming home. “Well, she gets to go home tomorrow. I know she’s really excited about it.” “Daddy, since Jazzy lives here now is her mommy coming here too?” Zeppelin asked with his big eyes twinkling. “No, Zeppy. Jazzy doesn’t live here. She’s just been staying here.” All four children’s faces hung in sadness. Jensen chuckled, “Oh come on guys, you knew Jazzy was just staying here while her mommy was getting better.” “We know daddy, but we want her to stay forever.” Arrow added to the conversation. Jensen sighed, “Okay guys, we will talk about this later. It’s time for bed. Come on.” 
The kids got into their beds and fell asleep quickly. Jensen sent you a text.
Jensen: Hey, the kids are asleep, they were upset Jazzy isn’t going to live here forever. 😂
You: Hey, that’s funny. Maybe we can schedule playdates and sleepovers if that’s okay with you. I know Jazzy would love it.
Jensen: I was thinking the same thing. 😀
You: Good. I owe you so much for taking care of her and being here for me.
Jensen: No you don’t. If I was in the same situation I have no doubt you would do the same thing. 
You: Oh absolutely. I adore your children. They are so sweet and kind to Jazzy.
Jensen: I’ve definitely tried. It’s been hard, but I’ve had some great support.
You: That’s amazing. So can I ask you something?
Jensen: Sure
You: If I’m out of line or you’re uncomfortable, just tell me, okay?
Jensen: Of course. 
You: After your wife passed away how long was it until you started dating again?
Jensen: I went on a few dates, I’d say about 2 years after she died. Nothing worked out, but that doesn’t mean I’m not open to it. My focus is on the kids, so if it happens it happens. 
You: I understand that. Robert was the first guy I dated since Josh died. I was scared to let someone in, and now I’m sitting in the hospital because of him. 
Jensen: I get that, but you can’t let him ruin your chance at happiness again. You and Jazzy deserve to be loved and taken care of.
You: Thank you, Jensen. So do you and your beautiful children. 
Jensen: Thank you. I’ll come pick you up from the hospital tomorrow when you get released and take you home if you want me to. 
You: I appreciate that, Jensen. I could always take an Uber to get home.
Jensen: Absolutely not. I’ll pick you up and drive you wherever you want to go. 
You: Okay, well I’ll see you in the morning. Good night, Jensen.
Jensen: See you tomorrow, and good night, Y/N. Sweet dreams.
You: Sweet dreams, Jensen. 
Jensen put his phone down and climbed into bed. He looked down at the little girl sleeping on the makeshift bed and smiled softly. His heart warmed thinking about her and her mother being in his and his children’s lives. The two of you were already starting to mean something to him. He couldn’t shake the feeling, the need to protect both of you, to be with you. 
Jensen laid down and sleep finally washed over him. About 3am he was startled awake by the sound of crying. He leaped out of bed and found Jazmyne crying in her sleep. She woke up, saw Jensen and leaped in his arms. 
Jensen sat on the floor holding her and rubbing her head while he rocked her. “Shhh, Jazzy. It’s okay. You’re safe.” 
Jazmyne’s hands clung to his shirt and her face was buried in his chest. She continued crying and whimpered out “mommy”. Jensen’s heart broke. 
“Mommy’s okay, baby girl. She’s going to come home tomorrow and she can’t wait to see you.” Jazmyne shook her head no. Jensen was a little confused, “What’s no, baby girl?” “I not go home. Mommy not go home. He hurt mommy there.” It made sense to Jensen. She was scared to go back home because that’s where Robert had been when he hurt you. 
“Shh, baby. I promise you I will keep you and mommy safe.” Jensen said as he rocked the scared little girl. She clung to his shirt and wouldn’t let go. He tried to lay her down on her bed and she cried and held on tighter. He stood, holding her close and laid her down on his bed. He grabbed her stuffy and handed it to her, and laid down. As he got comfortable, Jazmyne curled up beside him. Soon her soft snores filled the room. Jensen drifted back to sleep.
The next day after Jensen got the kids to school, he arrived at the hospital to wait for you to be released. “Good morning, sweetheart.” Jensen said as he walked into your room. You looked up, smiled and said, “Good morning to you too. Here to bust me out?” You chuckled. “Absolutely.” Jensen flashed his killer smile. 
The nurse came in not long after Jensen arrived. She unhooked your IV and the cardio machine. “Go ahead and get dressed, and I’ll get your discharge paperwork together.” You nodded and Jensen stepped to the side of the bed. “Let me help you up.” He said offering you his hand.
You took his hand and as you stood, you stumbled and he caught you. Looking up into his eyes your breath hitched and you bit your lip. Feeling your heart beat wildly in your chest. You steadied yourself and thanked him softly. He nodded as you walked into the bathroom.
You looked in the mirror and saw your battered and bruised face and body. Oh my god. Look at me. Get it together Y/N, there is no way that gorgeous man out there could ever look at you in any way other than a friend, especially now. 
You tried to push the thoughts of wanting to kiss Jensen out of your head and get dressed. Your body was in so much pain and covered in bruises, it hurt to even breathe. You wondered how you’d be able to take care of Jazzy, especially with Nichole out of town. You took a deep breath, you knew you’d figure it out. 
About an hour and half later you and Jensen were at your house. You had no idea what you’d find when you got there, but you were surprised to find out that after the police finished with their investigation Nichole came and cleaned up the house for you. 
Jensen helped you to the couch and you sat down. He could tell something was bothering you, but didn’t want to push. Then your tears started to fall. 
Jensen pulled you in his arms, “Shhh, it’s okay. You’re okay. You and Jazzy are safe. I promise. I’ll keep you two safe.” You leaned back and looked at Jensen, his green eyes scanning you. He cupped your face and wiped your tears away. You leaned into his touch. 
Without any thought you leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his lips. When your brain finally caught up to what you were doing you quickly pulled away. Flush filled your cheeks, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry Jensen. I don’t know what came over me.” 
You started to get off the couch but he touched your hand, “No, Y/N, please don’t go. That was fine. You have nothing to be sorry about.” His hand on your arm felt so good. You looked at him, sat back down and apologized again.
“Jensen, you’ve been nothing but kind to me and Jazzy. I’m sorry if I put you in an awkward position. I really don’t know what came over me.” Jensen leaned forward, his eyes flicked between your lips and eyes. You leaned forward until your lips ghosted each other’s. Jensen closed the rest of the distance and kissed you. His hand tangled into your hair as he deepened the kiss. Jensen’s tongue ran across your lips, asking for entrance. You parted your lips and your tongues began an intricate dance of dominance. 
You moaned into the kiss and felt fire ignite in your body. You hadn’t had a kiss like this since Josh. When the need for air became too much, the two of you pulled away. “Wow.” Was all Jensen could say. You smiled and nodded. As he started to lean back in to kiss you there was a knock at the door. 
Jensen groaned and stood to answer it. He looked back at you and smiled before he opened the door. You smiled back, but as soon as he opened the door your smile was replaced by a look of horror. 
Jensen turned to look at the person at the door as you said, “Robert.”
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eatanorange · 2 days ago
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marauders do the candy trauma salad trend since I JUST saw a fantastic one for pjo (highly encourage y'all to add your versions/to this pls I don't have solid hcs of everyone) (evan's is fully me projecting btw)(a lot of them are me projecting <3).
Upon completion I want to add up here n not just the tags that these do reference various traumas/bigotry so be careful and mind what headspace ur in n all that pls take care of urselves k thanks love u.
Sirius: Hi I'm sirius and every time my mother considered something I did 'impure', like experience joy or get sorted in to gryffindor, she took my mouth away! *momentary zone out from the horrors* I brought milk duds!
Barty: bazooka bubblegum. *vid cuts* I'm barty and I hate my dad for all of the reasons you can imagine and I think it would be fun if he blew up. good?
Lily: Hi I'm Lily and after I got sent to magic school, all emotional ties with my muggle sister, who regards me as a freak, and my mother, who was more sensitive to her side, were severed. They didn't tell me when my dad died. I brought 3 musketeers.
Remus: Hi I'm remus and I got bit by a werewolf when I was 5, then my dad offed himself because of it. I brought moon pies.
James: Hi I'm James and I fell into limerence with someone and incessantly pursued them for over a year in ways that were detrimental to both of our mental states. I was so public about it I don't even need to say who it was. My mother sat me down one day and said "was it something your father and I did, something we said, that convinced you you need to beg someone to love you? to let you show them love?" and that broke something in me. We're chill now though, and I have coping techniques that work for me while still allowing me to be my expressive self, so I brought mr. goodbars.
Peter: Hi I'm peter and my animagus is literally a rat. I brought sour patch kids.
Dorcas: Hi I'm dorcas and my pureblood parents will never say it to my face but they wanted me to be a boy. To compensate I was sure to always get top marks, be well liked, and experience gender dysphoria. I burnt out before our 5th year, and learning radical acceptance in the place of trying to guess unspoken rules saved my life. I brought smarties.
Regulus: Hi I'm regulus and in order to be sure my mother didn't assassinate my brother for running away, I stayed behind in the abusive household and eventually became a deatheater to keep my cover, hunting down one bald headed bitch's horcruxes until it literally almost killed me. I think it did kill me in some lives. and I brought the starburst.
Mary: Hi I'm Mary and due to blood supremacist bigots, I have to go to school with people who want me to die just for having the audacity to exist. The muggle world is also like this. The school I go to does not matter in this scenario. I brought mentos for the salad and a bottle of soda for the show.
Evan: Hi I'm evan and my ex went on holiday to another country for 3 months, told me we could write to stay connected, they didn't, broke up with me via owl while still on said vacation, and then came to talk to me in person about that, denied that it was an active choice to disconnect from me, then tried to put the onus of any friendship to follow on just me. We haven't spoken since. Also I'm a sex positive, but also trauma affected ace, it was an open relationship, and they somehow still managed to be shady/inconsiderate about hooking up with someone on the vacation. I brought blow pops.
Pandora: Hi I'm pandora and sometimes I get prophetic dreams so vivid I can't tell when I wake up. Sometimes, though the future is not stagnant, I see my friends die :) I brought airheads.
Marlene: Hi I'm marlene and I have 5 brothers. 3 of them accept my nonbinary identity. The rest, and my parents, blatantly ignore that I use they/them pronouns. Then they told me if I don't have children as an adult I won't be worth visiting because it's my job as a pureblood to produce an heir. So I went to St. Mungos and got sterilized. I brought baby ruth candy.
Hope you enjoy! and thanks if you read them all! This was fun for me.
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seitmai · 1 day ago
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Many thoughts...
Love at first sight, it was. But hell, love wasn’t enough, was it?  What did he know about raising a little girl?  What did he know of walking that tricky line between being overprotective and being too blasé, of giving you space but making you feel safe?
 just that he is questions this, shows how much he cares about her 🫶🏻
Cecilia had stopped over a lot in the beginning, had soothed his fears.  Had reassured him that love was enough, that he was doing a good job.  He was kind and well-meaning, and you had been a smart kid who became a smart woman, and on the balance, he would have agreed with Cecilia and said he did alright.
Awesome job right there👏🏻
For the first time in his life, Rhett truly considers his future.  What his life may look like in five, ten, twenty years.  Will he always wake to grey mornings that sit on his chest like a stone?  Will he become bitter and mean, the way his father has despite having a wife and sons and a granddaughter? 
Uff he truly doesn't have the best role model..
Then, on top of the annoyance, another layer of shame.  Of course you run.  The death of your parents left you with that wound, the inability to handle hurt in a healthy way.  You flee and tuck yourself in a corner, tend your wounds alone.  It’s a flaw, but it’s understandable why you do it.
Very understandable reaction especiallywith that backstory..
Rhett had been your best friend, and for the briefest summer, he was your lover too.  He should have been the one person to help you work through that fear.  Instead, he only cemented it further.
💔💔💔
It’s easy to blame Rhett when Wyatt eats dinner alone each night.  When he runs a vacuum over the floor of your bedroom, keeps it dust free like you may turn up any day and take your place back on the family ranch.  When he studies the row of family photos on the mantle, sees his sister’s face and feels like he’s failed her in the care of her daughter.
He misses her so much 🥺
But Wyatt doesn’t confront Rhett at the Double Deuces.  He doesn’t seek him out at all. Rhett comes to him.
👀
“You never fucking think, do you?  Jesus fucking Christ, my sister…her husband…they were killed by a fucking drunk driver, and you have the fucking balls to…you asshole…you fucking piece of shit.  You—” The kid seems to track Wyatt’s meaning.  His bleary eyes clear a fraction and fix on where Wyatt’s fists wait, eager to offer some payback for his sins.  Rhett nods, as if to himself, and he takes a deep breath.  Closes his eyes, opens them.  He struggles to stand, staggers a little, but eventually finds his feet.
Wyatts anger is very understandable and valid, but it seem to penetrate even Rhett’s drunken state
“Make it her.”  It comes out one slurred word, makeither, and Wyatt’s anger cools by the barest degree.  He unclenches his fists, holds them looser. “What the fuck you trying to say?” Rhett coughs, sways.  Coughs again, then enunciates, clarifies. “Make it hurt.  Make sh…sure.  Make sure it hurts.” Wyatt’s fists uncurl more.  “Now what are you—” “Am.  Piece of shit.  I am.”  The kid sways more but takes a wide step, braces his legs wide to keep himself upright.  “Y’right.  Imma piece a’shit.” He wants to be hurt because it’s the only thing he knows, he thinks.  Like I used to.
💔😭💔😭💔
Maybe Wyatt only fell into fatherhood because of a tragedy, but he gets more of it right than he will ever give himself credit for.  He faces the kid, and when the kid comes swinging at him again, spoiling for a beat-down Wyatt will never deliver after all, Wyatt only opens his arms and lets Rhett step into them.  The kid struggles for a beat but he’s drunk, and he seems tired down to his soul. It only takes a moment for the kid to stop struggling in Wyatt’s bear-hug, then sag against him in exhaustion, then weep in dry, barking sobs that feel like they’ve been building up for his entire life.  And Wyatt knows exactly what sort of pain the kid is bleeding out because it was his pain, and his sister’s too, until they both fled their unhappy childhood home and made a happier one here on this ranch.
Wyatt gives Rhett the hug he himself needed years ago 😭🥺
Wyatt is never sure the right way to tell you that Rhett Abbott is currently crashing with him.  A month passes and then another, and he starts to feel guilty that the kid who broke your heart has been living down the hall from your childhood bedroom, sitting at your kitchen table.  That he parks his truck beside yours, and that he’s caught the kid—more than once—lingering by your bedroom door, lingering by your truck, like your ghost might manifest if he stands still enough.
That's a tough spot..
I can’t be mad about it, you write back.  How many times did you look the other way when I brought a stray home? 
I guess you deserve a stray of your own.  Might want to take him in for his shots though. :-) 
You got a heart of gold, kiddo, Wyatt texts you, and your response is immediate.
That's so cute, they have such a beautiful relationship 🥰
Wyatt grins when he reads your email, then glances over at where Rhett is sitting on the couch, watching TV.  The kid does act like a stray; he cringes the barest bit if Wyatt moves too suddenly or too close to him, but like a stray, he relishes the comfort of a warm home, food in his belly, and even the tamest praise.
He really is a stray 🤭
Got it from my uncle.
🥹🥹🥹
Wyatt won’t know it until years from now, when he’s an old man and Rhett has grey in his own hair, but this stretch of time—the two men working and living together—is when Rhett starts to learn how to be a man.  That Wyatt is the gruff but kind, slightly awkward father-figure Rhett always needed.
I'm so glad Rhett gets the chance to experience this kind of relationship and space to grow 🥹
Heart of gold, indeed.  It makes Wyatt tear up, first from so much pride it feels like his chest might burst, then from that knife edge of grief that his sister isn’t here to see what a force for good her daughter turned into.
🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
“Nah.  I don’t know if hate is something she can even feel.  Dislike, maybe.  Disappointment.  Not hate.”  “She should hate me.  I deserve it.”
He is so hard on himself 🥺
“I didn’t mean to hurt her, you know.  Sounds fucking stupid, but at the time, I didn’t even realize what I was doing to her.”  Rhett glances over at the man, fixes his eyes back on the floor.  “Looking back, it felt like I was sleepwalking through that summer, and now I’m awake and see all the damage I did.” “Damned if I know.  But take it from me, kid.  I had a girl when I was your age, and I fucked it up completely.  Even once I realized how badly I fucked up, I was too proud to try and set it right.  Now it’s been years and it’s far too late.  So you gotta try, so even if she never forgives you, it’ll set right in your chest that you did everything you could.”
I love their honest and open conversations 🥰
Your uncle glances over at Rhett, nods in his direction.  “We’re doing okay for a couple of guys.”
They truly are 🫶🏻🥹
You laugh, and the sound makes Rhett smile – when was the last time he heard it?  It draws another laugh, which makes Rhett laugh, which makes you stop and ask your uncle if Rhett is there too. “He is,” Wyatt admits.  “We’re watching the football game.” There’s a beat of silence from you that seems to stretch out forever but is probably only a second or two. “Merry Christmas, Rhett,” you say, and Wyatt hesitates, then tilts the screen so Rhett can see you and you can see him.  He almost doesn’t want to look but he can’t help himself.
🥹🥹🥹
“In that case, Uncle Wyatt, work him into the ground,” you joke back, and Wyatt turns his phone back to him this time, and Rhett is left with perhaps a bit more than a sliver of hope.  He leans back on the couch and thinks that yes, maybe he can salvage this after all. Maybe trying his best will be enough.
I'm sure it will 🥹🫶🏻
I absolutely loved this story and the relationship Rhett and Wyatt built, truly beautiful 🥰
Kind of a Sh*thead
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(Rhett Abbott x F!Reader)
CW:  Angst; family-type healing; allusions to and threat of violence; bit of fluff at the end.
Word Count: 5256
AN:  This was originally requested by @elegantmusicdragon from a long-ago Christmas prompt list: "trying to hide their sadness during the christmas celebration" from the sad christmas prompts? Definitely angst...maybe with a little hope at the end?"
AN: This is the next piece in the "Mending Fences" miniseries, found here.
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It will shame Rhett in the future, how long it takes for him to realize what has happened. 
That night at the bar, he sat waiting for you:  nursing a beer, his eyes on the door, ready to get a little loose with you and maybe head out to the open range and fool around. 
Then Maria appeared in front of him.  Like magic.  Like an angel spirited back to Wabang and right in front of him.  It threw him off completely, his world tilting sideways  He found himself dazzled by the fact that the girl he pined over for years was suddenly in front of him, smiling, laughing, touching his arm and squeezing his bicep while he subtly flexed it under her fingers.
It wasn’t until last call that Rhett surfaced for a moment, the spell lifting for long enough to remember he was supposed to meet you, yet you were nowhere to be found.
She must have been held over late at work, he reasoned, and even as he thought it, he knew it was a lie. 
It will shame Rhett in the future, but it will take months before he really feels that shame.  He’ll find out you left early for school, but by then, he will be entirely wrapped in the magic of Maria, dumb with lust and love that he thinks is finally reciprocated.  He'll send you a handful of texts, bland little things that you read but don’t respond to. 
Months later, when Wabang is sliding fast to a cold winter and Maria is gone again, disappeared as quickly as she appeared, Rhett will feel shame.
And you’ll be long gone.
*****
Wyatt wishes he knew what he was doing.  Hell, he’d be happy for an inkling.
When his sister and brother-in-law died, he didn’t even hesitate to step up and take his niece in.  No brainer.  Blood is blood, but Wyatt loved his sister something fierce, and taking you in was like holding on to a part of her even if she was gone. 
Didn’t hurt that Wyatt loved you for you.  That he had loved you from the first time his sister set you in his arms, a bundle only a few days old.  You’d set your wide eyes on him and blinked sleepily, then puked up a torrent of milk on him that reeked something fierce.
Love at first sight, it was.
But hell, love wasn’t enough, was it?  What did he know about raising a little girl?  What did he know of walking that tricky line between being overprotective and being too blasé, of giving you space but making you feel safe? 
Cecilia had stopped over a lot in the beginning, had soothed his fears.  Had reassured him that love was enough, that he was doing a good job.  He was kind and well-meaning, and you had been a smart kid who became a smart woman, and on the balance, he would have agreed with Cecilia and said he did alright.
Nothing about this feels alright, though.
Wyatt always guessed it was Rhett Abbott who left you stranded at that hotel when you were a senior in high school.  Little fucker skulked around that entire summer, scampered away like a cat with a lit tail when he saw Wyatt coming.  Something had happened between the two of you.
When you came back to Wabang finally, you took up with the little fucker again, and Wyatt thought maybe he had been unkind.  Ungenerous.  He tried to be nicer to Rhett, but the kid barely ever mets his eyeline.
What the hell, Wyatt thought.  The Abbotts can be a squirrelly bunch.  As long as he doesn’t hurt her.
All those years ago at the hotel, Wyatt was never sure who it was that left you stranded and tear-streaked.  This time, though?
You confirmed it that evening when you got home, eyes unseeing as you charged past him, thundered up the stairs, started packing.  When he confronted you, you burst into tears and spilled the entire sorry affair.
You and Rhett, hanging out all summer.  You in love, and Rhett…not.  Not with you, anyway. 
Wyatt wasn’t stupid.  When you said hanging out, he could guess what you meant.
Seeing his niece hurt like that made him see red, but he has a modicum of maturity, which means he bides his time in most things. 
*****
Maria’s been gone for months.
You’ve been gone for longer.
Winter in Wyoming is no joke.  Wabang gets less snow than other parts, but the wind cuts marrow-deep, and the days are short, grey affairs.  The holidays could be a break from the doldrums, but Royal has been on a tear lately, lighting into Rhett for every little thing, so Thanksgiving, then Christmas are tense and joyless.
For the first time in his life, Rhett truly considers his future.  What his life may look like in five, ten, twenty years.  Will he always wake to grey mornings that sit on his chest like a stone?  Will he become bitter and mean, the way his father has despite having a wife and sons and a granddaughter? 
He sends you texts.  Little one-liners, asking how you are, saying he misses you.  He tries to feel you out, but you leave him on read and never respond.
Once, he gets blisteringly drunk and tries to call.  You don’t pick up, and he doesn’t leave a message.
By now, the shame has settled into him and made itself at home. 
He can guess that you came by the bar that night.  He can guess that you saw him and Maria, and that’s what caused you to flee.  Layered on top of the shame is an annoyance with you and your knack for running.  He may be an asshole but you’re a child to run and hide when shit gets tough.
Then, on top of the annoyance, another layer of shame.  Of course you run.  The death of your parents left you with that wound, the inability to handle hurt in a healthy way.  You flee and tuck yourself in a corner, tend your wounds alone.  It’s a flaw, but it’s understandable why you do it.
Rhett had been your best friend, and for the briefest summer, he was your lover too.  He should have been the one person to help you work through that fear.  Instead, he only cemented it further.
*****
March.  The leaden skies start to take on some blue, high up in the atmosphere.  The sun burns a little warmer.  The barnyard thaws into a swamp, and Wyatt has to handle the anxious animals, pawing and snorting and half-mad from a winter of cabin fever.
March is a tough month, though, because you call and tell him you aren’t coming back to Wabang for the summer.  You got a coveted internship with a specialty vet hospital in the city, and while Wyatt knows it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you, it’s far easier to blame that fucking asshole Abbott boy.
It’s easy to blame Rhett when Wyatt eats dinner alone each night.  When he runs a vacuum over the floor of your bedroom, keeps it dust free like you may turn up any day and take your place back on the family ranch.  When he studies the row of family photos on the mantle, sees his sister’s face and feels like he’s failed her in the care of her daughter.
He’s not irrational about it.  He knows he has to let you fly and trust you’ll return.  Vet training is a long process—it’s not like you went off to Cheyenne for a handful of bookkeeping courses.  He knows, deep-down, you would have always left for your schooling.
Still, that fucking Abbott boy has built up a tab, in Wyatt’s eyes.  March is when that tab comes due.
-----
He knows the boy drinks at the Double Deuces.  It’s common gossip how he overdoes it and either gets ornery with the Tillerson’s or pukes himself silly in the parking lot.  There’s whispers of the fights between Royal and the boy, how the elder Abbott is tired of bailing out his youngest son, though no one would ever accuse Royal of having any patience, especially where Rhett is concerned.
If it were anyone else—any other dickhead young buck—Wyatt would chuckle in sympathy.  He used to do the same when he was younger.  He knows what the Wabang drunk tank looks like.  Hell, maybe his name is still there—he scratched it into the pea-green paint of the wall decades back to commemorate his first overnight stay.
But Wyatt doesn’t confront Rhett at the Double Deuces.  He doesn’t seek him out at all.
Rhett comes to him.
It’s a Saturday night, and Wyatt is lazing in front of the TV, watching the recaps of the week’s basketball games.  He’s half-asleep when he hears the heavy, scuffing tread of boots on his porch, then a thumping fist at the door.
When he peeks out of the window to see who it is, it’s the fucking asshole.  Rhett sways unsteady on his feet.  Wyatt opens the door, and he can smell the reek of cheap beer and brown liquor.  When he peers out farther, he can see where the fucking asshole parked his truck, half in the driveway and half in the yard, the tires sunk deep in the soft spring turf.
“You drive here like that?” Wyatt asks, though it’s obvious.
The kid nods.
Wyatt sighs, scrubs his hand over his jaw.  “Tell me you came from next door.  Tell me you were drinking at home and not out on the roads fucking loaded.”
Rhett stares at him, his eyes bleary and blood-shot, his blinks slow and deliberate.  “Came from t’bar,” he slurs.
“Fucking prick.”  Wyatt breathes it out. 
His vision wavers for a moment, the rage that courses through him is so hot and sudden.  He moves towards the kid just as Rhett sways towards him, and in a blink, Wyatt finds his hands on him, his sweat-dampened t-shirt twisted in his fists.  This close, the beer fumes make his eyes water, and when Wyatt studies the kid’s face, he sees blank stupefaction. 
“You fucking little prick.”  He pivots, turns, hauls Rhett away from the front door, down off the porch.  He half-drags, half-carries him, and once they are on the soft grass of the front yard, Wyatt shoves him away.
“Stupid, selfish.  So fucking selfish.”  The rage feels good, like a narcotic in his veins.  “You could have killed someone, driving like this.”
“I didn’t…”  Rhett sways on his feet, struggles to get his balance.  “Didn’t—”
“Didn’t what?”
“Didn’t t-think—”
Wyatt is on him again, his hands firm on Rhett’s chest as he shoves him in earnest, sends the kid stumbling back on his ass.  “You never fucking think, do you?  Jesus fucking Christ, my sister…her husband…they were killed by a fucking drunk driver, and you have the fucking balls to…you asshole…you fucking piece of shit.  You—”
But he can’t even finish.  His sister and brother-in-law, your parents.  Years ago now, but the pain is still fresh, a keen edge of a knife blade that takes his breath away.  It was after a rodeo, a random Saturday.  One stupid fucking decision and Wyatt lost his family, you lost your parents, and the rest of the world had the bad taste to keep on going. 
There’s a roadside memorial on the road out of Wabang that marks the site of the crash.  It makes that knife blade of grief twist in Wyatt’s gut every time he sees it.
Anger—rage—is such a close neighbor to grief.  Grief is something one has to feel, but anger?  That’s something to embrace, to lean into.  To do.
Wyatt advances on Rhett, his big fists opening and closing as the kid struggles to get back on his feet.  Wyatt wants to beat the shit out of him, wants to see him bruised and bloodied on the ground:  for hurting you years ago, for hurting you more recently, and now this.  For taking his life and the life of anyone else on the road into his own stupid, selfish hands.
Rhett manages to find his knees, and he kneels in the grass but can seem to get no further.  Wyatt towers over him.
“Get up,” he orders.  His voice is low, deadly, and his tone must penetrate the booze-fog because the kid tilts his head up and looks at him. 
“Get up,” he repeats.  “Get up and face it like a man.”
Rhett only manages a dumbfounded, “huh?”
“You wanna drive a big truck like a big man?  Drink at the Double D’s like a big fucking man?  You wanna fuck around with my niece and break her fucking heart like a big man?  So stand up and take what’s coming to you like a man.”
The kid seems to track Wyatt’s meaning.  His bleary eyes clear a fraction and fix on where Wyatt’s fists wait, eager to offer some payback for his sins.  Rhett nods, as if to himself, and he takes a deep breath.  Closes his eyes, opens them.  He struggles to stand, staggers a little, but eventually finds his feet.
“Make it her.”  It comes out one slurred word, makeither, and Wyatt’s anger cools by the barest degree.  He unclenches his fists, holds them looser.
“What the fuck you trying to say?”
Rhett coughs, sways.  Coughs again, then enunciates, clarifies.
“Make it hurt.  Make sh…sure.  Make sure it hurts.”
Wyatt’s fists uncurl more.  “Now what are you—”
“Am.  Piece of shit.  I am.”  The kid sways more but takes a wide step, braces his legs wide to keep himself upright.  “Y’right.  Imma piece a’shit.”
As quickly as Wyatt’s rage came on him, it flees him just as fast.  He sees it just as clear as day, how Rhett Abbott ain’t a man.  He’s just a boy playing at it, fucking up as he goes.  Wyatt knows as well as anyone the sort of father the kid has, Royal Abbott is no model of what a man should be. 
The kid standing in front of him is just a hurt animal:  hurt by his own father, hurt by his own behavior because he has no idea how to not take out his hurt on others.
He waves his hand at the kid, a dismissive gesture, and he starts to turn away.  He is halfway back to the house when he hears the kid coming for him, feels the weak glancing blow of the punch that has no aim or power because the kid is too drunk.
He wants to be punished, he thinks as he turns back around to face Rhett.  He knows Royal is hard on his youngest son, can guess that the kid’s been knocked around plenty.  His own father…well, he keeps that buried in the past, but sometimes it pops up like a bad penny.  Like now. 
He wants to be hurt because it’s the only thing he knows, he thinks.  Like I used to.
Maybe Wyatt only fell into fatherhood because of a tragedy, but he gets more of it right than he will ever give himself credit for.  He faces the kid, and when the kid comes swinging at him again, spoiling for a beat-down Wyatt will never deliver after all, Wyatt only opens his arms and lets Rhett step into them.  The kid struggles for a beat but he’s drunk, and he seems tired down to his soul.
It only takes a moment for the kid to stop struggling in Wyatt’s bear-hug, then sag against him in exhaustion, then weep in dry, barking sobs that feel like they’ve been building up for his entire life.  And Wyatt knows exactly what sort of pain the kid is bleeding out because it was his pain, and his sister’s too, until they both fled their unhappy childhood home and made a happier one here on this ranch.
“Christ almighty,” Wyatt says after the kid calms.  He doesn’t let him go—he only gets an arm around his shoulders, and he leads him inside. 
No sense sending him home to his father.  He’s here now, so he might as well sleep it off on the couch.
-----
It’s less than a month before Rhett returns.  Maybe a handful of weeks later, the kid turns up on Wyatt’s step, sheepish.  Looking small.
Wyatt will never be clear exactly why Rhett and Royal fall out so terrifically.  Who can say?  The Abbotts can be squirrelly fucking assholes, back to Royal’s father and probably even further back, but Rhett finds himself kicked out with nowhere to go.
He takes the couch for a night, but the next day, Wyatt thrusts some fresh sheets in the kid’s arms and directs him to the guest room down the hall.  Past your bedroom.
“Might sleep better in an actual bed,” he tells the kid, his voice gruff.
“I’ll be out as soon as I can.”  Rhett’s ears burn red in shame.  “Just gotta line up a place.”
“No rush.”
“Seriously, I’ll—”
“I got plenty of room.  You ain’t putting me out.”
-----
Wyatt is never sure the right way to tell you that Rhett Abbott is currently crashing with him.  A month passes and then another, and he starts to feel guilty that the kid who broke your heart has been living down the hall from your childhood bedroom, sitting at your kitchen table.  That he parks his truck beside yours, and that he’s caught the kid—more than once—lingering by your bedroom door, lingering by your truck, like your ghost might manifest if he stands still enough.
Every time you call.  Each Facetime.  Wyatt wants to say something and doesn’t.
Wyatt ends up taking the coward’s way out:  he sends you an email.  Keeps it short and sweet, apologizes for not saying anything sooner.  He alludes to the situation between father and son, but clarifies that Rhett is in no way forgiven for how he treated you.  It’s just that the kid needed a soft place to land, and he had the ability to help, so he felt it was his God-given duty to do so.
But I can ask him to leave, if you want, he writes.  If it makes you uncomfortable.  You’ll always be my first and top priority, kiddo.
It takes you two days to reply, but that means nothing.  You have a brutal schedule and often go radio silent for stretches of time.  When you do reply, it makes Wyatt smile.
I can’t be mad about it, you write back.  How many times did you look the other way when I brought a stray home?  I guess you deserve a stray of your own.  Might want to take him in for his shots though. :-) 
Wyatt grins when he reads your email, then glances over at where Rhett is sitting on the couch, watching TV.  The kid does act like a stray; he cringes the barest bit if Wyatt moves too suddenly or too close to him, but like a stray, he relishes the comfort of a warm home, food in his belly, and even the tamest praise.
You got a heart of gold, kiddo, Wyatt texts you, and your response is immediate.
Got it from my uncle.
-----
Through the summer and autumn, the two men fall into a rhythm.  It isn’t so bad living with the kid, once he starts to get his sea-legs under him.  Once he starts to feel like the bottom won’t drop out.  Rhett puts in an honest day’s work on the ranch, and Wyatt pays him.  The first time he presses money on the kid, he tries to push it away, embarrassed at what he thinks is more charity on top of the charity of room and board…
“You work for me, you work for me,” Wyatt said, blunt.  “Means you get paid by me.  Take it or leave.”
Wyatt won’t know it until years from now, when he’s an old man and Rhett has grey in his own hair, but this stretch of time—the two men working and living together—is when Rhett starts to learn how to be a man.  That Wyatt is the gruff but kind, slightly awkward father-figure Rhett always needed.
There are lessons embedded in their days working the ranch.  The lessons ease Rhett out of the fog of his life, the strange liminal space of being in his early twenties but still just a kid.
When Rhett royally fucks up a stretch of fencing, ruins a day of work.  Wyatt only grunts, shakes his head, then claps Rhett on the back.
“You can either take the time to plan out a job, or plan on doing the job twice,” is all he says, and he guesses that Royal would have belted his son into the dirt for such an error.
When Wyatt tasks Rhett with a simple rewiring job in the barn, replacing some light fixtures, and the kid has no idea where to even start.  He spends half the day sweating about it, a sick feeling churning in his stomach, until he decides to throw up the white flag and admit he has no experience working with electrical fixtures.
“Well, hell, kid.  Why didn’t you say something?”  Wyatt jerks his chin towards the barn.  “C’mon, I’ll show you.”
When at the rodeo, Rhett is tossed from the bull within seconds, a humiliating display.  Afterwards, his body bruised but his ego far worse off, Wyatt only chuckles at him, says life will throw you off like that sometimes and it’s the getting back up that shows character.
“You got back up,” he tells Rhett.  “That means something.”
“Means I didn’t want to get trampled,” he grumbles.
“Still means something.”
-----
Always, though, there’s the specter of you.
Wyatt catches the kid standing in the doorway of your bedroom sometimes still.  Peering in at the time capsule of your stuff:  the clothes you’ve left behind, the framed photos, the beat-to-shit stuffed bear on your bed. 
Wyatt mentions you in passing, but he never brings up that long-ago night at the hotel or your sudden flight from Wabang the summer before.  He guesses Rhett already feels terrible all the time, so why bother bringing it up and make it worse?
The kid eventually broaches the subject all on his own, just as winter descends on Wabang again.  It’s been over a year since either of them have seen you in person, though Wyatt Facetimes you at least once a week.
Rhett makes himself scarce during those calls, but Wyatt’s always had the impression he’s not far off, maybe straining to make out your voice through the wall.
In early December, you break the news that you aren’t coming home for the holiday break.  Wyatt would suspect that Rhett might be the reason, but your eyes practically glitter with excitement as you talk about a massive stray animal sweep you’ve helped plan, a Christmas-into-New Years take-to-the-streets movement to find and rescue as many street dogs and cats as you can.  You’ve been working with local Girl Scouts to build feral cat cold-weather shelters, and you’ve been raising money and donations, and you’ve built a strong foster network, and local clinics are ready to spay and neuter and administer vaccines—
Heart of gold, indeed.  It makes Wyatt tear up, first from so much pride it feels like his chest might burst, then from that knife edge of grief that his sister isn’t here to see what a force for good her daughter turned into.
When Wyatt breaks the news to Rhett later, though, the kid sorta deflates, and that’s when he brings it up himself.
“It’s my fault,” he mumbles.  “She’ll never come back if I’m here.”
“Not true.”  Wyatt goes to the refrigerator and snags two bottles of beer, then hands one off to Rhett.  He settles in his easy chair and studies the kid.  “You know she loves animals.  She’ll come back eventually.”
“She hates me.”
“Nah.  I don’t know if hate is something she can even feel.  Dislike, maybe.  Disappointment.  Not hate.” 
“She should hate me.  I deserve it.”
And then it spills out, one clipped sentence at a time.  The entire history of you two, from best friends in childhood to passing acquaintances to an awkward moment in a hotel that Wyatt now knows was not actual sex but just some fooling around that ended in a cruel words.  When Rhett gets to the part of the story about your summer together, Wyatt holds up a palm, says, “yeah, don’t want the details at all,” and Rhett slouches against the couch and sighs.
“I didn’t mean to hurt her, you know.  Sounds fucking stupid, but at the time, I didn’t even realize what I was doing to her.”  Rhett glances over at the man, fixes his eyes back on the floor.  “Looking back, it felt like I was sleepwalking through that summer, and now I’m awake and see all the damage I did.”
Wyatt chuckles sadly.  He knows the feeling.  He has his own hurt women in his past, experienced the same sort of heartless sleepwalking. 
The kid shakes his head and continues.  “Wasn’t worth it.  Maria, I mean.  I don’t even know what I saw in her. 
“You were thinking with the wrong brain,” he tells Rhett.  Wyatt may have no lost love for Maria Olivaries, but he’d admit she was a pretty gal.  He could see why the boys went a little stupid around her. 
“Wasn’t thinkin’ at all.”  He says your name, a sigh in his mouth, then adds, “I don’t know what to do.”
“Look.”  Wyatt sets his empty beer bottle aside, leans forward.  “You gotta try to make it right with her.  How you square it up is up to you.  Maybe she’ll forgive you, maybe she won’t, but you gotta make an honest try at it.”
“How?”
“Damned if I know.  But take it from me, kid.  I had a girl when I was your age, and I fucked it up completely.  Even once I realized how badly I fucked up, I was too proud to try and set it right.  Now it’s been years and it’s far too late.  So you gotta try, so even if she never forgives you, it’ll set right in your chest that you did everything you could.”
Rhett stares at him for a long beat, then nods.  Then there’s a beat of glassiness in his eyes, near-tears, that Rhett blinks away almost angrily before he turns and clears his throat.
“I don’t mean to, you know.  I don’t mean to be a piece of shit,” he says, his voice rough-edged.
“Aw hell, kid.”  Wyatt heaves himself out of his chair and starts to make his way back to the kitchen for another beer.  He stops in front of where Rhett sits, slouched over, and he lays a hand on his shoulder.
“I don’t think you’re a piece of shit,” he tells him.  “I just think you’re kind of a shithead.”
Rhett snorts.  “What’s the difference?”
“First one is a lost cause,” Wyatt says.  “Second one is just an idiot trying to do his best.  Like most of us.”
*****
Christmas day at a bachelor’s ranch is not as sad as it might seem.
Wyatt brings in a tree but they only throw some lights on it to give it a bit of cheer.  They build a fire in the fireplace, exchange no gifts, settle in and watch the football games.
Christmas dinner is a pot of Wyatt’s ulcer-inducing chili and a pan of cornbread.  Cecelia drops by in the morning with a plate of cookies and a handful of gifts for Rhett, but it’s just the two guys for most of the day.
Until you call to Facetime your uncle.
You take Rhett unawares; you call off-schedule.  You usually call in the evening but this is the afternoon, and Wyatt mutes the football game and take the call from the couch.  Rhett starts to stand up, but the man waves him to sit back down.  No need to hide out like he usually does.
So Rhett gets a full accounting of your life from you directly.  He can hear your voice, and you sound like you have a sore throat.  You tell your uncle about your big rescue mission, how it’s bitterly cold in the city but how you’ve saved so many dogs, so many cats, and how you can’t wait to head back out after you warm up a bit.
“I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas,” you tell Wyatt.  “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.”
Your uncle glances over at Rhett, nods in his direction.  “We’re doing okay for a couple of guys.”
“You decorate a tree?”
“Just string lights.”
“The prettiest part of a tree anyway.  What about dinner?”
“Chili.”
You laugh, and the sound makes Rhett smile – when was the last time he heard it? 
“Happy Birthday, Jesus.  Here’s some indigestion,” you joke.
“Good thing the kid went to Costco and got a gallon bucket of Pepto,” Wyatt jokes back.
It draws another laugh, which makes Rhett laugh, which makes you stop and ask your uncle if Rhett is there too.
“He is,” Wyatt admits.  “We’re watching the football game.”
There’s a beat of silence from you that seems to stretch out forever but is probably only a second or two. 
“Merry Christmas, Rhett,” you say, and Wyatt hesitates, then tilts the screen so Rhett can see you and you can see him.  He almost doesn’t want to look but he can’t help himself.
You’re smiling at him.  Not as broadly as you usually smile when you’re delighted in something or someone, but it’s a medium-sized one that touches the corners of your eyes. 
It’s genuine.
It’s a place to start.  It’s a sliver of hope.  It’s not a door slamming shut in his face but a door left ajar by a fraction, and maybe Rhett can toe it open if he can just find the right way to try and square things up with you.  It’s confirmation that he’s not a piece of shit, just kind of a shithead, and if he tries his best, maybe that will be enough.
“Merry Christmas,” he replies, and if you notice the gruffness in his voice, you don’t react.
“Thanks.” 
Wyatt holds his phone there a moment, starts to turn it back to him, but Rhett blurts out, “be careful out there, okay?” so Wyatt turns it back.
Your smile grows the barest bit.  “Will do.”  A pause.  “Don’t let my uncle work you too hard.”
A toe in the door.  A sliver of hope.  The fire snaps in the fireplace and the string lights twinkle on the tree, and Rhett may be an idiot just trying his best, but maybe that’s enough.
“I barely work at all,” he jokes.  “Gotta leave plenty of work for you when you come back.”
It makes you chuckle.  It’s not a laugh, but it’s something.
“In that case, Uncle Wyatt, work him into the ground,” you joke back, and Wyatt turns his phone back to him this time, and Rhett is left with perhaps a bit more than a sliver of hope.  He leans back on the couch and thinks that yes, maybe he can salvage this after all. 
Maybe trying his best will be enough.
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tesseractingrey · 1 day ago
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After seeing TIT in Philly, I’ve been pondering on the power of “light entertainment,” as Phil defines it, and why we all watch Dan and Phil. It’s one of the main messages of the show, and so maybe this is all obvious to everyone else, but I would like to yap more on the subject and so I will.
They explore in the show if they should be doing what other content creators do and come to the conclusion that no, that doesn’t work for them. And through their solo monologues they reveal that they aren’t really looking to grow significantly and have mainstream appeal, they really just are happy with us and where they’re at. Their content sometimes is quite funny and as much as we enjoy seeing the parts of the relationship that they want to show us, it’s so much less about whether the truth of their relationship is what we Want it to be or not and more about the fact that they feel comfortable sharing any amount of truth with us. We enjoy their relationship not because we want them to be any sort of way, but because they are happy and that happiness fills their videos these days. Their content is safe and happy, it’s that “warm feeling inside,” and the community they’ve cultivated is the same.
Something we teachers talk about sometimes is who has That Thing. There’s some indefinable Thing that some teachers have and some don’t. When you have it, kids just naturally listen better and trust you quicker and form stronger relationships with you. It sounds crazy spelled out like that, but I know some very experienced and smart teachers who don't have That Thing, and see how kids behave with them versus with a teacher who does, and the difference is palpable, if logically inexplicable.
Whatever That Thing is, Dan and Phil have it for content creation. There's something magnetic about them that draws us in and makes us feel warm and safe and we've built an amazing community together around that. I think That Thing is part of why they are where they are where they are, even though their content is mainly just gay banter with some light gaming mixed in these days. It’s not a perverse and invasive fascination with their personal lives that draws us to them, it’s just them, as they truly are, that makes their content special. As much as we do enjoy seeing their relationship, it’s more in a “providing enrichment in our enclosure” way than a “this is what drew me in and the only reason I’m here” type thing, especially these days. I love their love, but I love their happiness even more.
I’m glad that they are so happy and comfortable now with their lives and continuing to make content, because I look forward to continuing to watch it, in whatever form it may take. I don’t know how I ever lived without this warm feeling inside, and I hope to keep enjoying it for a while. It’s light entertainment and there IS value in that, not everything has to be insanely deep or emotionally devastating to be worthy of our love, but it’s not JUST light entertainment, it matters that They are the ones doing the entertaining. Maybe it’s just parasociality, but I do think we’ve got something special here, and I think they’re something special.
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mikimakiboo · 2 days ago
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I've started writing backstories for the Time Travelers gang so I might as well continue
Starting with Dust ! ( I stole the idea of him having a passion for history from @ancha-aus but shhhhhht )
So so so
When Dust was a child he wasn't really the best kid to have, he was kind of a trouble maker, stealing from stores, starting fights at school, disturbing the classes (except history classes, he was actually very invested in this class), bad grades, ... he started smoking at 14 and would sometimes smoke illegal substances that he would acquire at school (as it wasn't a very clean school, but clearly his parents didn't care about what kind of establishment they sent their son to), come back late, stay in the streets, and all things that would earn him a few trips to the police station, tho they weren't very hard on him because he was a kid and they knew he wasn't mean but rather lost as his parents weren't guiding him as they should have
So basically Dust could do practically all he wanted because he knew his parents didn't care about him anyway
His parents were actually pretty tired of him, especially because his little brother was nothing like him, he was very calm, had good grades, was helpful, ... he was everything Dust wasn't, and so his parents only wanted one thing: for Dust to leave so they could keep only his brother
So when Dust turned 18, his parents gave him a suitcase and a bag, and he was out of the house the very next day
He quickly got a job in some fast food as to not stay homeless too long and because he needed to eat so he needed some money, couldn't rely entirely on stealing, so he started working and rented a shitty apartment in a shitty building but at least he had a roof above his head so he didn't bother to look for something better
He worked for two years and at twenty he figured he wanted to do something else, something a least a little better than working at a fast food, something he liked, so he started saving money each month until he had enough to apply to college and study history, the one and only class he always was interested in
So he started studying, working on the side as he couldn't afford to stop working, and was really invested
But unfortunately investment doesn't do everything and money became too tight for him, he couldn't paid both his bills and his classes, so after two years he sadly had to drop out of college and never got a diploma
He however didn't lose his passion and kept watching documentaries and reading books, his dream being saving enough money to travel and discover the runes of the old civilisations
Now talking about trauma
The fact his parents never showed interest in him no matter if he did good or bad and threw him out the moment he turned 18 did affect more than he realizes it because it is the major reason why he always feels like he's not good enough, like he can't be a good company, that people (the tt gang) cannot possibly like him, that's just impossible, his own parents didn't like him so them ??? Impossible
He just doesn't think he's worth it and he is having a hard time accepting that yes, they do love him for himself and not what he could have to offer them, because they don't see him as a waste of space like his parents always did
He's just used to people either not noticing him or being disappointed in him so he now has a very low self esteem and it will take some time to accept that he is lovable (the gang will help him)
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julietwiskey1 · 1 day ago
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Isha in Hindu means “one who protects”.
In the first season we see Vi set as the family protector. Vander states it explicitly twice, telling Vi to protect the family when he gives himself up to the enforcers, and again when he is dying his final words are to protect Powder. This became Vi’s personality, what got her through prison. Waiting for the day she can rescue and protect her sister again.
From interviews we also know in general what VI’s arc is. A protector who no longer has anyone to protect. Most speculation was on Jinx faking her death or something. But I think it’s shifting to finding her role replaced when she fails. And with Caitlyn pushing her away she is completely alone.
Isha protected Jinx, Vi’s sister. In a display that I think would remind Vi of Powder from both Isha and Jinx as well. Isha is set to be a reflection of Powder again in season 2. She has used Powder’s mouser glitter bomb (now working) and refused to stay put to try and save those she loves. And the reckless abandon is reminiscent to Powders fateful attempt to save her family at the cannery.
Jinx herself is shown to be caring to the kid. The first thing Jinx calls out seeing Isha intervene is “no”. To stop Isha from intervening in how she views her death should happen and to stop Isha from getting hurt. Once the shot disarms Isha Jinx goes to try and get her off of her, to make sure that she isn’t caught in the crossfire. Then when the charges blow Jinx instantly turns to pull Isha closer and shield her from the deadly wind.
That was Jinx displaying a lot of care and humanity, and forcing Vi to pause and take it all in as it contradicts VI’s view on Jinx. Something at odds with the justification Vi told herself and Caitlyn about her joining the enforcers to track Jinx down. That Jinx had killed and replaced Powder. That Jinx wasn’t her sister, and only a monster making a mockery of Powders memory.
This will be shown more in the upcoming act. In the trailers we see Jinx shown not as a monster but a hero. A revolutionary figure waving the banner of independence. Protecting Zaun by redeflecting the poison gas she used on them back to Piltover in a beautiful display of resistance.
Vi has to face the fact that she completely misunderstood who her sister has become and could be still. That her role as protector, that has grounded her is taken up by Isha, leaving her directionless. And that she is now abandoned and left alone by Caitlyn.
Arcane s2 Spoilers bellow the cut
I think nothing is going to fuck Vi up more than Isha saving Jinx. Vi was ready to kill Jinx herself, but was stopped by a child. Someone who loves Jinx enough to run inbetween them.
That’s VI’s job! Vi is the big sister meant to protect them family. But she went to kill Jinx and a child she doesn’t now intervened and hugged Jinx.
Also I think Vi might catch that Jinx also cares for the kid. I only rewinded one scene, and that was to catch the no jinx shouted when Isha put herself between them.
The abandonment by Caitlyn is only going to add more to that.
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vodika-vibes · 2 days ago
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Me again 😈 this is the last one (for now)
How about Howzer x reader with "sh, sh, I'm going to patch you up."?? I love Howzer so much and virtually no one writes for him </3
Playing Doctor
Summary: In an ideal world, being trapped in a cramped place with Howzer would be a dream come true. After all, you’ve been crushing on him for ages now. You just wish the situation was a little less sucky.
Pairing: Captain Howzer x GN!Reader
Word Count: 1200
Warnings: Reader is injured, pining, Howzer is jealous but pretends that he isn't
A/N: Sorry that this took so long! I couldn't get Howzer to agree with me. Until I put on a Disney playlist on Spotify and the words just started flowing. (Also, I have been in a not-great mental place since the 6th, but I think I'm better-ish now). I hope you like it!
Click HERE to be added to my Taglist
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You’ve known Howzer for years now. 
You first met him at the beginning of the Clone Wars, all of those years ago. And, looking back now, you can admit that your first impression of him wasn’t the greatest. 
He was arrogant. Cocky, even. And in his opinion, you were a meddling busybody who needed to spend a day or two sitting in a jail cell.
You weren’t, and aren’t, a soldier. You were the former base commander’s receptionist, and when he left for greener pastures, you were left behind with a handful of soldiers and support staff who weren’t important enough to anyone to manage to pull a reassignment.
In truth, you kept the base running through duct tape and a prayer. And then Howzer came along and took it from you. 
It wasn’t until he realized that none of the NatBorn soldiers, or support staff, would listen to him, that they all deferred to you, that Howzer realized that he stepped on a few toes. 
And he didn’t apologize until your Squad of Misfits pulled him and his men out of an ambush that should have killed them, but only left him badly injured and with a scar on his face.
The rest, as they say, is history.
By the time the Jedi Purge happened, you and Howzer were friends. Friends enough that, when he called you to ask for help, you dropped everything and hurried to his side. 
That had been a year ago, and while you won’t ever say that you regret it, you do wish that you had been more clever about your career prospects.
Or, at least, more clever.
Surely, if you had gone to medical school like your mother wanted you wouldn’t be in this situation.
Right?
You release a pained whimper as Howzer presses his hands, firmly, over the wound in your side. You try to pull away from his painful touch, but the way he has you positioned against the wall of the cave you’re taking shelter in means that you can’t move.
“Howzer—”
“I know it hurts, ad’ika.” His voice is low, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen such a grim look on his face before. Well, not directed towards you, at least, “but I need to stop the bleeding.”
Hesitantly, because he’s been funny about you touching him lately, you wrap your hands around his wrists, “‘m sorry. I messed up.”
“It’s not your fault. Who knew that the Stormtroopers had people who could use fucking javelins. Where are we, the Middle Ages?” He sounds stressed and angry.
“Many Indigenous people use weapons like that,” You reply, “Like the Ewoks and the Tusken Raiders of Tatooine.”
Howzer releases a huffed laugh, “Why do you know that?”
“I saw a documentary about it before,” You admit.
“Yeah? When was this?” He applies more pressure and you whimper as the sudden pain knocks the air out of your lungs, and you see a muscle work in his jaw.
“When I was a kid,” You manage to say, “There used to be a show. Tula the Tooka. Tula would teach kids about different races and show how we’re all the same.”
“Fighting bigotry one little kid at a time?”
“Something like that.” You wince, “She also covered some basic language skills, like how to say hello, or I’m lost, in whatever language.”
“Sounds educational,” Howzer shifts his hand and glances at your side, and then he takes your hand and presses it over the wound, “Apply pressure while I pull out my kit.”
“You could always just leave me here,” You offer.
“Don’t be fucking stupid, I’m not leaving you behind.” Howzer replies as he starts digging through the bag he’s been carrying, “You can’t actually think that I would do that.”
“I don’t.” You admit, “Make your life easier if you were less loyal, though.” You pause, “Idiot.” The word is affectionate, and the corner of Howzer’s lips curl up into a small smile.
“Wonder what having an easy life would be like,” He jokes, before he turns back to you, “Alright, move your hand.” You do as he asks, though you don’t realize why he’s saying that until the sharp scent of alcohol reaches your nose.
You yelp and jerk back when an alcohol-soaked cloth presses against your side. Though, you don’t get far.
“Shh, shh,” he effortlessly tugs you closer, so he can keep the cloth pressed against your side, “I’m going to patch you up.”
“You couldn’t have given me some warning?” You choke out.
“Sorry, ad’ika. But you’re kind of a baby when it comes to pain.”
You stare up at him through tear-filled eyes, “And you thought this would help? You’re a jerk. Rex would never—” You yelp again when his touch gets rough enough that it hurts.
The painful pressure vanishes almost immediately, “Sorry, I’m sorry! I forget that you’re so much more fragile than me.” Howzer blurts as he uses the sleeve of his jacket to wipe a tear from your cheek, “Please don’t cry.”
“I-it’s okay, you didn’t mean it.”
Howzer sighs, “It’s not okay, but thank you.” He pulls some bandages from his bag, “I bet Rex would never forget that.” There’s something odd in his voice, and you realize, with a start, that he’s jealous. 
“Howzer?”
“Hm?”
“Are you jealous of Rex?”
He fumbles with the wrapper of the bandage, and his dark eyes flicker up to meet your gaze, before dropping back to your side, “Course not.”
You stare at the top of his head for a moment, and then you sigh and reach up to run your fingers through his hair, “You know you’re my favorite, right?”
“Are you allowed to have favorites?” Howzer asks as he applies the bandage and tapes it to your skin.
“I think you’ll find that I don’t care about what’s allowed,” You counter, “You’re my favorite, and I’m glad that I ended up stranded here with you over anyone else.”
He finally meets your gaze, “You hate being stranded anywhere.” Howzer corrects with a wry smile.
“See, no one else knows me like you do.”
“Well, I have known you for years now,”
Your hand falls from his hair to rest against his cheek, just over his scar. There are so many things you want to tell him. So many thoughts you want to share. 
Things that he deserves to know.
But the words seem to stick in your throat.
After all, there’s no way he feels the same way for you as you do for him.
So, instead, you offer a tiny smile, “I’m guessing you have a plan.”
Howzer turns his head and presses a light kiss to the palm of your hand, “Always do.” He pulls away from you, “Are you okay waiting here for me?”
“Just don’t forget about me.”
“Never.” He stands and peels off his jacket, “Here, use this as a pillow and get some rest. I’ll be back when I’m done.”
You take his jacket and fold it so you can lay down, “Be careful,” Howzer tosses you a wink, and then he’s gone. 
And, now alone, you release a quiet sigh. “I love you, Howzer.”
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haveihitanerve · 1 day ago
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not a completed fic but... also not a fic i think i will ever complete so.. have this?
Alfred… had never grown fond of her. Not in the way Bruce and Duke and Damian and even Dick had. Not in the way Cass and Tim had.
Alfred had put Tim in the mask, draped the cape around his shoulders, begged him to take up the mantle and save Bruce. But he hadn’t done that for Steph. He had never liked Steph.
She hadn’t known to what extent, until she had forgotten to lock up her utility belt one night. She could’ve come back in the morning, but Bruce would’ve noticed, and she didn’t want to give him another reason why she wasn’t worthy as Robin. She was certain Tim had never forgotten to lock up his belt at the end of the day.
But Bruce had been in the cave when she had snuck down the stairs, and despite her skill, the skill he had now taught her, he always knew she was there. Maybe it was something he taught all his- the kids. All the robins. A way to hide from everyone but him.
So she had waited, crouched beside the door, her legs growing numb as she waited for him to finish and leave. That was when Alfred had come.
“Master Bruce. Your dinner is cold.”
“I’ll be there in a second Alf.” Bruce returned, fingers flying across the keys.
“She ate an hour ago.” Alfred threw out, emphasis on the she. Emphasis on not using her name. Stephanie’s fingers dug into her thighs. Bruce’s fingers stilled.
“Do you have something to say, Alfred?” He asked. Steph could hear the control in his voice, the measured tone he was using. The tone he used with her when she did something wrong and he wanted her to discover for herself what it was and how to do it better.
He was just like that, wanting her to learn on her own, to not rely on him, to not hear his reprimand but rather his pride when she figured it out. Alfred was quiet.
“She is not Tim.” Bruce said, his voice gentler.
“I know.” Alfred returned. “And that is the problem.” Steph bit her lip as her fingernails drew blood. Tears stained her eyes and she blinked them back.
“What would you have me do?” Bruce asked, and his voice was measured again, though Steph could hear him getting angry. “Kick her out? Return her to the street? Let her run around Gotham alone?”
“He is!” Alfred yelled back. Bruce’s control snapped and he stood, turning to his butler.
“Tim made his choice.” He hissed. “And as much as I want him back he is not coming back. That is not my fault, no more than it is hers.” He snarled. Steph almost gasped. Bruce was… defending her. She blinked the tears back again.
“Stephanie is not to blame for Tim leaving. I need a Robin.” Bruce said quietly, voice firm and hard. “And she stepped up. Not unlike Jason. Not unlike Tim. I cannot make you love her, I cannot make you like her. But you will give her the respect she is due.”
In all her work with Bruce, Stephanie did not think she had ever once heard him actually give Alfred an order. Alfred nodded stiffly, and turned, stalking back up the stairs.
Bruce slumped back into his chair. Steph hardly dared to breathe, but his eyes found her anyway. “I’m sorry.” She whispered. Bruce looked at her tiredly.
“For what?” His voice was soft. Quiet.
“For not being him. For not being good enough.”
“Oh Steph,” Bruce sighed, standing, and grabbed her utility belt, locking it up in her locker. “I never wanted you to be Tim.”  He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her hair, before following his butler up the stairs.
Steph remained there, crouched in the corner, and finally let the tears fall.
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aayakashii · 4 hours ago
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Yandera haru will always be so so yummy 😋
Ooohhh save me yandere Haru... yandere Haru save me...
You will be tracked by a thousand GPS chips, there's no escaping
There's one in your bag, in your phone, in your shoes, in your blazer, in your books...
He might spend a lot more money than what he should in tracking your every move
Haru is a busy man after all, as much as he wanted to be attached to you at the hip, he got a lot of work to do
So he'll just... follow your movements remotely
I wrote about him being into taking photos of you some time ago, and I still think he would do that
It's the perfect way to stare at your pretty face whenever he needs his fix of you
He could take pictures of you walking through the campus, studying, helping him at his dorm, sleeping, changing
It's the type of thing that he can do quickly as he's passing by
(he ends up with a lot of blurry photos of you but he still can't bring himself to delete them, since they're yours)
(cue him having to spend even more money to either buy more SD cards or, even worse, develop the photos...)
He finds every excuse to have you help him at Jabberwock
Oh come on, the critters love you so much! So does he You have such a way them! Come stay with him help him won't you?
100% watches you take care of his kids animals and imagines marrying you like. Immediately.
He gifts you your very own jumper and INSISTS he will keep it at the dorm at all times (it's because he wants to sleep with your clothes right beside him) (will scramble to wash them as fast as possible the day before you'd come to help again)
His hands are all over you at any given moment btw. He holds your hands, hugs your waist, ruffles your hair, pinches your cheeks and nose, pokes you all over... he just can't keep his hands off of you. If he sees you're okay with all of his pda, his hands might travel a little further...
He isn't really jealous... mostly. He just won't let you help him advertise the safari because he doesn't want you flirting with other students like he does sometimes...
What, you think it's unfair? No problem! He will just stop flirting altogether.
It's not like he minds it, to be honest! He only cares about you after all.
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overnightheartbeats · 3 days ago
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Her smile couldn't be contained watching as he stood centimeters from her. Hiding how she felt and what she anticipated was not possible in any way or form. Laurel's eyes fluttered shut upon feeling those soft, lovely lips she had been hooked on from the start. "High praise, and you say I'm the one with the flirting skills," she teased, her hands cupping his face before pulling him in for a kiss of her own. The last two have been initiated by him, it was high time she give one to him. It's all she'd been thinking about for the last two weeks. "Hey, that night was great. No apology needed. I understand family, I just got it all mixed up. That's so sweet, being so close to your little sister." She zipped up her lips, "You're a great brother, and don't worry, I'll keep your secret." He had mentioned that last time, with that same sad tone. Chicago really was home, it seemed. "Well, for what it's worth, Austin is not that bad. It grows on you for sure, but don't say goodbye to Chicago. You never know where life could take you." Laurel was giddy at the thought of him meeting Julia and Aaron. Julia will be thrilled, especially when she was already such a big fan. "Wait, that's great! I love it, I'll let them know meeting you has made it to the itinerary."
It hadn't occurred to her that her answers had a deeper meaning somewhere in there, but she had said she was an open book. "I'll hold you to that," she said with a smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. His question had thrown her off for a second. "Yeah. My mom, when she was still around. She was always going on and on about being a bit much, which is fine. It makes sense, I suppose. It helped me learned to tone it down." Though, she supposed toning it down was debatable. "Really? You'd learn with me. That would be so much fun, and we'd get a new skill out of it. Hopefully, some good food too." The thought was intriguing - her mind already trying to think of how could they make this work. Maybe borrowing her dad's kitchen, because the communal kitchen in the dorm buildings wouldn't cut it. "True, but it's all you at the end of the day. Pretty green eyes," and just like that - new nickname unlocked.
Laurel happily listened to him talk about his family. Usually, the family talk bummed her out, only reminding her of the odd mess she had. But, hearing him was a breath of fresh air. His family just sounded so sweet, full of love. Hearing that kind of love envelop him comforted her, especially when she thought back to the melancholy in his tone now. "Fooled me, or drew me in?" Wasn't it all about perspective? "Both of them like dancing, sounds like I need to thank them for their hard work teaching you. So, you're a snow over heat kind of guy?" Yet, he ended up here. How amusing. "That sounds so relaxing, cabin for holidays. You'll have to let me know how it goes. To Aspen? Unfortunately, no because you make it sound so fun. When we did vacations, my mom was always picking the places, and it was New York or Paris. I was also a kid, so it was a lot of following her around during shopping trips and then spending time with some random caretaker while they went out. Once it became my dad and I, then we tried visiting the Grand Canyon and sprained his ankle, so vacation cut short. But, his job keeps him busy too, so vacations are not too fun." He did try though, and that effort was everything to her. "Oh, true. Nerdy can be hot though, still doesn't matter if it's others' favorite hobby. Just yours. A self-help book, to teach others to flirt with you? No, thank you. I'll politely decline," she joked with a wink in his direction.
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Something in common made her feel excited, eager to discover what else they could have in common. The possibilities seemed endless, which only made it better. "Random hobbies, huh? I mean, I'll try anything once really," that was said with a shrug. Her curiosity had a tendency to lead her to the most odd roads. "Are you trying to test my knowledge? Maybe so, or maybe I don't, but I could just throw random moves together and you wouldn't even know the difference. I'd have to dig the pom poms out of retirement," she laughed at the thought, though her attention was drawn back to his words. Laurel had never thought of silence that way, but there was no way to say that without it sounding pitiful. "The first one sounds familiar, but I guess I haven't had much of that second option. It could also be because I can never be quiet." Deflecting with jokes, a fine option. "You are just checking off all my boxes - cooking classes and stargazing, I am too lucky. I will be taking you up on that offer! I don't need the facts, just the company." His company, more specifically. "Yes, sounds like a plan. I still need to see these awesome blankets you hyped up earlier." They'd covered a decent amount of things already in the getting to know you trail, but she was quick to think of other things. "Okay, favorite color and what's one place, anywhere in the world, that you've always wanted to visit?"
Eli smiled and sighed as he chewed his lip before getting up off the chair to be centimeters away from her face. That almost mischievous childlike smile displayed as he brought her chin up with his fingertip and pressed a fleeting but warm kiss on her soft plump lips. "I don't think kissing you would ever disappoint me." He situated himself back on his chair and wrapped his ankles around the legs of the seat. "The saddle night was a good day. I'm sorry it got cut short. My little sister needed me and if you ever meet her, you'd see why. She and I are really close. She's my best friend. Just don't tell my brother and sister," he chuckled making his eyebrows crease. "Our little secret." The thought had crossed his mind once but ended up deciding that it was best if he didn't. "I wanted to but I think I'm going to stay or find some place to settle that would still be a flight away from them. I think I exhausted my time in Chicago." A sort of melancholy took over his voice saying that out loud. Her excitement was contagious and it made him nod. "I'd love to meet your best friends. That's a genuine feeling because I don't normally like to meet people." The bribery bit had him smile at her. He did wonder what she'd have up her sleeve.
"Don't worry about that. I don't deem you too much. Has anyone ever deemed you to be too much?" His curiosity had gotten him to ask the question. Otherwise he didn't think she'd have hesitancy over being known. "Realism isn't a bad thing. Though it's good to have a balance." he hummed and nodded. "We can learn together. I know a few things but the kitchen isn't really my forte. Eating is though. I wouldn't mind learning together and coming up with different recipes to try." It was a nice thought. Laurel and him in the kitchen making something and having fun. Not paying too much attention to the exact recipe just winging it at times. He smiled as they fluttered one quick time and shook his head. "I'll proudly take the title then. I don't know who to thank. Mom or dad could have had green eyes. Who knows."
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"I fooled you with my subpar dancing skills. Mama P used to love to be twirled so every chance we got we used to twirl her. So she'd take us around the kitchen to dance. It was Papa P who used to teach us how to lead." The last time he skiied was last Christmas. The last holiday that was normal. "Not since last year. It was a family trip. I've got a picture of that time in my dorm. I love the snow. It's a magical place and would love to go back. Maybe rent a cabin and spend the holidays there." A dream he knew that couldn't be made reality since he didn't have the funds to actually do it. At least not yet. "Have you ever been?" He shrugged his shoulders and cleared his throat. "Some people deem readers dorky and nerdy. So, it is not everyone's favorite hobby." She was cute when she laughed and her eyes sparkled with that joy. "It has worked. You have charmed me. Maybe now you should write a self help book on how to flirt the right amount."
"A one person type huh? Seems like we've got that in common." The smile he threw her was one that was half amused. "Cheerleading and tennis? Consider me more than intrigued. Do you still remember your cheer routine?" He'd wait until later to let her know he was one of the few cheer guys at the bottom of the pyramid. She didn't need to know that right now. "Silence isn't all bad. It depends on the person you're with. If they're using silence as a means for punishment then yeah that is not good. But if you're sitting in silence with someone who makes it safe and warm then you'd find it's also very fun. As for stargazing we should go sometime? I can't say I'll be full of facts but maybe I'll end up surprising you." Just then their food arrived and he grabbed it. "Shall we head back to the room?"
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