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strawberry-jammers · 3 years ago

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child reader (Pt.4)

tommy x child!reader || whys he here??

someone comes to the tundra to fight the blade (also some cute fluff)

pt1 pt 2 pt3 pt4 pt5

masterlist

this took so long lmao, part 5 coming soon

This story will diverge from the cannon. Since i cant remember it well im just gonna do my own thing.

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The three of them, techno tommy and little (y/n), lived together peacefully for a bit. Techno and tommy would occasionally spar and commit minor terrorism, while (y/n) got to play with tommy and uncle techno.

(y/n) has grown a bit sense they had arrived there, being a happy kid like they should be.

On calm nights, techno would read to the little kid, stories of gods who ruled over the lands. Stories of himself in his times of adventure. They enjoyed all his stories, for they held a sort of unreachable curiosity that they loved oh so much.

“Im not reading you a story.” techno says. Sitting in his usual arm chair. He had come back from the nether not long before, just wanting to rest after a long day of fighting withers. He didnt expect the kid to want to hang out with him. “Pwease uncle tech!” they said. He shook his head. “I said no.” (y/n) huffed, getting off the arm of the chair, walking to the pile of books that stood in the coroner of the room.

They looked through it, trying to find the one they wanted. Once they did, they let out a happy ‘aha!’ and stumbled to the grumpy piglin, book in hand. “This one this one! Pleaaaase!!” they said. Showing techno the book. He examined it, realizing that it was the story about himself that philza had given to him as a joke gift. His eyes widened. ‘Why would the brat wanna read about me?’ he pondered. He just sighed, gently grabbing the book from the small hands it was being held in. “Fine, fine, I'll read you the story.”

(y/n) smiled, climbing up to sit on the piglins lap, wanting to try and read the book along with him. He huffed, not really agreeing to them sitting on him. None the less he opened the book, reading the unfinished tale to the child sitting before him.

“Once centuries ago, there was a young lad cursed to hear ungodly voices…”

Those were nights (y/n) enjoyed the most. They couldn't read, but having techno read to them was much better than reading a book all alone.

On most days Tommy would play with (y/n) outside. Neither of them got bored of the snow, being used to the sunny weather that was logstedshire. It was a nice change of pace that (y/n) enjoyed.

The two of them usually had snow ball fights, or tried to build towers and mini houses out of the snow. Tommy would build them snowmen, ones that looked like the people they knew. Others were sometimes ones they hadn't seen before, that Tommy would tell stories of when they would go to bed.

“Papa look!” tommy turned to his kid, who was happily standing next to a snow version of himself. It was small and barely looked like himself, but he easily recognized it. He came up to the small child, picking them up happily. “That's me!? It's amazing little (f/i)! You did so well!!” he said, ruffling the young ones hair. They giggled at the action.

“Wanna see mine?” (y/n) nodded. He walked over to the snowman he had built, showing them to his kid.

They looked familiar, (y/n) thought. These were the people in the storys (y/n) was told, the man with words of wisdom and guitar playing skills that calmed every citizen, who had tragically died in their last battle. The boy who was by papas side, who loved bees and everyone he knew. The young baker who had a kind heart and a smile that could put anyone at ease. Jack manifold.

Tommy spemnt a very long time creating this, purely so he could show (y/n) his old friends at least once. “Whos that one??” (y/n) asked, pointing to the the fox looking one, standing tall next to the leader, wilbur. “That's fundy. He didn't do much in the war, but he was an amazing fighter, and also a furry.`` Tommy replied, setting the child down. They ran up to the snowman. “Furry furry furry!!” they chanted, making the young boy laugh. “Yes furry!”

Most days now were spent with all three of them playing games inside till the late hours. After (y/n) had gotten sick from being outside so much, Tommy decided to just stay inside the warm cabin. They would bug techno alot, but he enjoyed the company some days. It was better than staying inside alone with an enderman who didn't really like him.

Today however, was different. For they had an unexpecting visitor who was very friendly.

Techno was making breakfast, as usual. He had learned that if he didnt, neither of the innits would eat till dinner when their bodys couldn't handle it anymore. It wasn't good for a young baby like that. Not that techno cared tho.

He was putting the dirty pots and pans in the sink, knowing he'd try and force Tommy to do it later. He started to put the food onto plates when he heard shouting coming from outside. "TECHNOBLADE GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!!!"

Techno stops for a second. No one could possibly have the balls to fight him, let alone twice. Technoblade put the stuff in his hands down, walking over to the window to try and see who was out there. As he thought, it was none other than Quackity trying to pick a fight with him once more.

"I CAN SEE YOU PIGMAN! COME OUT HERE AND GET WHAT YOU DESERVE!!!" The duck man was actually prepared this time, with enchanted netherite armor and an axe to go with it. It seemed he upped his game sense last time.

Techno chuckled, going upstairs to grab his things real fast. There's no way someone can try and beat technoblade like that. He came back down to see Quackity opening his door. "Heh!? Why are you inside my house!?" Quackity stood there, axe gripped tightly. Techno reached the floor, grabbing his sword. "Why can't I be in your house techno? Hiding something?"

Ah shit he's onto us

Kill him

Haha he looks funny

Techno shook his head. "Just thought you'd play fair duck man. That's what you government people love to try and do." Quackity stepped forward. "Why would I play fair with the man whos supposed to be dead? This has been a long time coming," Quackity readied his axe, "get ready blade, cause i'm finally killing you." Techno readied his sword as well. "I'd like to see you try."

Just as they said this, someone came up from the floorboards. "*yawn* techno are you done with breakfast yet- HOLY FUCK QUACKITY!?" a tired Tommy says, holding a nearly sleeping (y/n). The two men turn to Tommy, seeing him and his child. "Oh? So this is what you were hiding. Haven't seen you sense the exile!" Quackity says, getting closer. Tommy got up from the ladder, shrinking behind technoblade, trying to protect his kid.

"What are you doing here big q?" Tommy says, hiding his kid. “I could ask you the same thing. What's that you've got there? Technos kid or something?”

“Well no-” “quackity leave them alone.” techno cuts off tommy, moving more so in front of him. He cant let the baby die, he knows phil would pumble him if he does. “This is between you and me quackity. Leave them alone.” quackity shook his head, pointing his axe at tommy. “Anyone alined with you is an enemy of mine. Even if he's an old friend.” quackity lunged at techno, who blocked the attack swiftly. Quackity tried to get around the man, so he could grab the child from tommys arms. (y/n) was now awake however, and they weren't very happy.

“Papa?” they ask, realizing there was an axe lunging towards them. Quackity got around the blade, and was already trying to get to them. Tommy noticed the axe coming their way, completely ready to take the hit for his kid.

Techno blocked the attack however. “Tommy get them to safety! I can handle this.” tommy nodded, running as quackity and techno dueld. Wuackity tried to run after tommy, but techno blocked him. “Not interesting enough for you q?” he smirks, swinging his sword at the duck man. Quackity blocks, scolding. “You're really full of yourself aren't you?”

Tommy ran outside, running to the only place he knew big q wouldn't find them, (y/n)s old hut. He ran and ran for so long, it had reached past mid day when he reached the small home he had made so many months prier. He sighed, closing the door behind him. (y/n) had long since woken up, and was very agitated. They had not eaten yet and it's been hours. “Shit shit sorry (y/n).'' Tommy says, laying the child in their old bed. He looked around the old home for anything he had left behind. He found some stuff, but he still had to go out to get food.

When he was done, he quickly fed the crying child. “I'm sorry kiddo, I didn't think this would happen. I didn't think quackity would wanna harm you. Sh shhh im sorry.” he picks up the crying child, kinda like how they first met. A crying (y/n) and a terrified tommy.

“Pappa- '' Tommy cuts them off, shushing them. “Just rest, Just rest…” the kid nodded, calming down slightly.

The two of them stayed like that till the sun rose the next day.

The next day Tommy got a message on his communicator by techno. Apparently quackity had won the fight, having threatened to chase after them and kill them. Techno begrudgingly went to get executed a second time. Thankfully he lived however, thanks to ranboo and tubbo stopping it. The two of them were currently at the blades house.

Tommy didnt wanna deal with seeing tubbo, but he knew he couldn't stay out here for more than an hour. He sighed. “Hey (y/n), how would you like it if you might get to meet new friends?” (y/n) looked at him, smiling. “Yeah new friends!!” he smiled, picking up the excited child. “Let's go back to uncle technos!” “uncle techy!!!” Tommy and (y/n) laughed. Tommy got ready and left for the tundra.

Hopefully tubbo wouldn't be there when he got there.

#tommyinnit x child reader #tommyinnit x reader #mcyt x reader #tommyinnit #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit x y/n #technoblade #technoblade x reader #dreamsmp x reader #x reader #child reader

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stardew-mermaid · 4 years ago

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im WEAK for my faves as parents and i know lots of y'all are too so here are

bachelors as dads vibes

(bachelorettes as moms will come soon too ❤️ under cut cause it got very long lol)

sebastian

a chill dad. when u were very little he'd let u sit in his lap while he codes and consequently u find heavy metal soothing cause he would be playing it while he works and u would always fall asleep against him

if he wasn't using his second computer u could play around on it while he works. 'existing in each other's company while u both do stuff' time becomes a regular thing even as u get older, u would do ur homework next to him at his desk and he'd help if u were confused

the first time u were deemed old enough to go for a ride on his motorcycle u were SO fucking hyped even if u had to be absolutely decked out in protective gear. sometimes while u were in high school he'd help you flex by picking you up/dropping you off on the bike

would bundle u up in his hoodies as a toddler and there's a few pics of u absolutely SWIMMING in them with the hood all the way over ur face pretending to be the grim reaper. he'd never been so proud

elliott

an eloquent dad, but still has goofy dadlike tendencies. he may be the picture of a dark academia dilf with his slacks and button ups sipping coffee in the morning over a manuscript, but he'll still make the jokes. calls u things like little one and taught u to play piano

he got u ur own little bookshelf for all ur baby books and he'd read to you every single night without fail. he'd make up stories too and u would help and make a collab tho it often got u more excited than relaxed for bed but it was worth it!!! when u were grown up u helped him compile the short stories u made up together and published it. he'd also share with u poems he wrote for you and about you over the years, lots of them to do with the wonder of watching a whole tiny person grow into a big person

would always take u on nature walks and play at the beach!!! u would find shells and rocks to give to him and he'd always look like u just handed him pure gold

u made a pact that u would sit still for him while he did ur hair if u could braid his hair in turn. u both looked very stylish

sam

cool dad!!! fun dad!!!! watches anime with u when u get into it and is forever ur player 2. if u had a skateboard or a scooter he'd always show u up by pulling off sick tricks and it became a friendly rivalry. taught u to stick it to the man at a very early age. teaches u to play guitar and took u to ur first rock concert when u were like 8

there are baby photos of u wearing sunglasses that cover half ur face and when asked about it he'd say 'u were just a rly cool baby!!!!' in some of them he's wearing matching sunglasses and carrying u in one of those front baby pouches. he'd also always sing to you as a baby and still does it idly sometimes and has written songs for u!!!!

ur #1 hypeman. praises u for everything and always makes sure u know how cool u are just for existing. he loses his mind at ur grade school talent show and at ur graduation he's there holding up his phone and crying like FUCK IT UP KENNETH!!!!! 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️

tho alongside all the fun he teaches u to be very responsible and polite and above all extremely kind!!!!

shane

has the most potent typical dad energy. the socks with sandals, the jokes, the ac/dc, the funny hobby projects, the rivalry with other pta parents, all of it. calls u squirt and kiddo and the kind to ruffle ur hair. always gives u piggy back rides even as u get older, says it helps him stay in shape. when u were little you'd always bap ur baby hands against his stubble cause heehee funny scratchy face

u loved when he was in charge of dinner growing up cause it was often takeout pizza/burgers. 'hey im making a pot of kraft dinner should i double it for u' kind of guy, adds cut up hot dogs and after ur other parent voices a need for nutrition adds frozen veggies too. VERY good at cooking all kinds of eggs tho, would always feed u eggs from his own chickens and would accept nothing less!!!

teaches u a lot about chickens and some of ur fave memories with him are in the coop or chillin in a field in spring with him and the new chicks. some other faves include the regular tea parties with him and cousin jas, and even as u both get older u all sit down and have tea together sometimes and occasionally break out one of the old barbie movies for funsies

u learned how to say fuck from him when u were 3 and he died laughing. if called and told that u got into a fight at school would reply with 'did they win'

harvey

sweet, dorky doctor dad. would get SUPER worried whenever u got so much as a cold, made u stay home and rest and HYDRATE. taught u proper medical standard handwashing from when u first learned how to turn on the tap, also taught u a lot of basic first aid. when u were fussy he would read u his old textbooks from med school and it'd get you to sleep in minutes

refuses to let u leave the house without eating something first and would often get up early to make u a big breakfast before school (it's the most important meal of the day!!!!). yes it's ok if ur late ur english teacher can wait until you've had ur veggies. when u were a baby his standard of keeping u fed was 'if i had to change less than five diapers a day it wasn't enough'. encourages taking a snack and water everywhere

as u got older u realized how hardworking he is so u make sure he knows how much u love and appreciate him, goes all out for his bday and father's day like how he goes all out for u every day and it makes him cry. he cries at ur first birthday and ur graduation too, cried when u got him a #1 DAD mug specifically for his morning coffee, he just cries a lot and it's very endearing, dad taught u it's okay to be emotional. u also gift him funky socks to wear at work and he goes bananas for them

he taught u how to assemble model planes and u would sit with him while he tuned his old radio, u liked the bwee bwee sounds. he would play jazz and swing and dance with u standing on his feet. when u were little u liked to play with his moustache and occasionally he would fall asleep while watching u but the most u ever did was add a goatee to the stache with washable marker which he thought was pretty funny

alex

strong dad!!! jock dad!!!!! would flex and let u hang off his bicep, play wrestle (u would always win), sit u on his shoulders and run around making airplane noises, play sportsball in the yard and would come up with fun challenges for u if u got bored of catch. pretty much the master of keeping ur baby self entertained and was always there to tuck u in for a nap when u got tired out

makes an extra protein shake for u every morning and loads of scrambled eggs, will also sneak u a cookie tho

he's always super encouraging and positive and enthusiastic about everything u do which u pick up fast. u go to his games and even if sports turns out not to be ur thing the fact that ur there rooting for him makes him put in 1000% effort, calls u his good luck charm!!!! he will also throw u over his shoulders and use u for weightlifting while u shout encouragement directly into his ear. this continues until ur grown up (and sometimes even then so he can flex even as an 'old man')

gets really really worried about you whenever ur sick or get hurt and will lose sleep over it but stays upbeat for ur sake. he will cuddle u tho. sometimes you'll ask for stories about ur grandma and he'll tell u and it's so nice to him to talk about his mother and smile instead of being sad, you help him heal because it's so wonderful to think of her as a grandmother and how proud she'd be. he plays her music box for u to help u sleep when ur little and it still makes u feel sleepy and safe when ur older

#food mention -/#stardew valley #stardew valley headcanons #stardew valley imagines #sdv headcanons #sdv imagines #sdv sebastian #sdv elliott #sdv sam #sdv shane #sdv harvey #sdv alex #long post #big dad energy

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years ago

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Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s Daughter (The Intense Years)

Tony Stark x daughter!reader

warnings:

a/n: y/n is 16-17, also ive really never written anything about team iron man so this was weird, someone needs to tell me i dont need every single movie detail in here

prompt: takes place from cacw and smhc

The Early Years (1) The Teenage Years (2) The Aftermath (4) Continued (5)

after the events in sokovia, you set up the relief fund for displaced sokovians and dealt with physical clean up while the avengers...

well, they had to deal with the press—and the governments of the world

getting to know your new suit AI, JOSHUA

briefly looking for bruce; no luck there

you ended up doing the MIT september foundation presentation with tony

and ending the presentation after pepper’s name popped up on the screen

“it’s probably best we get out of here”

you were his entire support system while he was going through his break with pepper

meeting charles spencer’s mother, who really gave your dad a piece of her mind

“my son died, but your daughter gets to live on. if you lost her, maybe you’d show some sympathy for murdering my child”

*awkward silence from you*

*awkward silence from tony otw to the compound*

HATING the sound of the sokovia accords, yet understanding why they’re being ratified

being torn between signing them or not and having a huge argument with the other avengers

“y/n, why dont you listen to your dad for once and sign the damn thing”

“uncle rhodey, you know why i dont want to sign. if they have us, they have access to our suits. you really think the UN should be telling us how to use them?”

“your defense doesn’t even make sense. i had the war machine or iron patriot or whatever the hell you want to call it, but the military was calling the shots”

“and look where you are now”

“right, well i wouldn’t expect a kid to understand”

“are you kidding me, rhodes? you’re gonna play the ‘im older than you’ card?”

comforting wanda while she feared being taken

and as soon as you heard about what happened in lagos

“think about it, maximoff. if you didnt do what you did, do you know how many more casualties there may have been?”

“but i killed innocents”

“no, rumlow killed innocents. you contained that blast better than anyone else could have and you prevented a whole bunch of deaths, give yourself some credit”

okay, so you weren’t the best at talking someone down while they were upset

staying in berlin with your father while the whole bucky thing began to get sorted out

but he sent you out to stay with nat while he had some “private time” with steve

tony keeping you close to him during the power outage at the base

until it turned out you brought your suit and tony did not!

everyone was looking at you to take down bucky, but it just seemed like a bad idea, you didn’t want to hurt him because you didn’t want to hurt steve

stalling to try and buy steve time to subdue his friend

“y/n, come on, for christ sake!”

“got it, dad! i know what im doing!”

“i dont think you do!”

feeling your stomach drop when bucky shot into your dad’s hand, if it wasn’t for his latest invention, he may have gotten seriously hurt

you had a slight change of heart after that, you couldn’t bare to lose your dad. not after all those close calls...

getting yelled at by secretary ross and the wonderful 36 hour ultimatum you, nat, and tony received

“i have a plan”

“don’t say the spider boy”

“fine, i wont say it”

a nice trip to queens :)

when this parker kid finally got home, tony left you to socialize with his aunt

small talk is sometimes unbearable

“so, what’s it like being tony stark’s daughter?”

“honestly? im always tired”

peter becoming a tagalong on your mission, which you didn’t really think was appropriate

“dad, i dont really think we should’ve brought the kid...”

“why? you’re about the same age as him, its not much different”

“um...no, i meant this isnt his battle. i don’t care how old he is”

face off between tony and cap where you literally just swallowed all your pride and apologized because you couldn’t handle the fact that the team was being ripped apart like this

team ups with Spider-Man

“so, uh, do you hate me or something?”

“hey, kid? we’re kind of in the middle of something, i’ll get back to you on that”

“it’s a yes or no question, y/n”

“pass”

so, things didn’t exactly go as planned...

your (former) teammates were taken to the RAFT and you couldn’t pull it together in front of them

they were pretty pissed at you

“im sorry, im so sorry, i should’ve done better”

they ignored you (up until scott lang)

“all you stark’s are the same”

“stay out of this, bugboy”

taking to the remote hydra base in another famous father/daughter teamup

“just like the old days, right kiddo?”

“i guess so”

“hey, cheer up, it’s not all that bad”

waltzing right in there to meet your friend and foe

seeing the video of your grandparents dying

*being killed

absolutely stunned by seeing such a gruesome thing

even after all you’ve seen, this really got to you

you were robbed of ever meeting them, which made you angry, but you couldn’t stay angry because there were so many things out of everyones control

realizing that this was a good time to hold tony back

“JOSHUA, lock down y/n’s suit. protocol: baby gate”

apparently your dad still had some old protocols in your suit that you hadn’t found yet

“JOSHUA? reboot! override protocol: baby gate”

“i’m sorry, miss y/n, but i cannot do that”

watching your father attempt to get revenge

and get critically injured

simultaneously working on opening the suit back up for a bad plan

finally getting the emergency release and stumbling out of your suit, rushing towards the conflict and throwing yourself in the middle of it

“please, dad. enough damage has been done.”

“y/n, get out of the way”

he saw you shaking and crying and he realized what he was doing

attacking the only family you guys really had

getting shoved out of the way so that they could end this fight once and for all

JOSHUA finally rebooting and bringing the suit over to shield you while you helplessly watched the end of this fight

when bucky and steve left, your suit disarmed and you crouched down beside your father

“come on, let’s just go home”

“im sorry”

“i know, it’s okay”

trying to comfort your dad after his defeat

you picked up cap’s shield and returned to your suit, it was time to go home

after a brief time of recovery (while you helped work on uncle rhodey’s prototype prosthetics), there was a slight change of plans for you

“okay, so for your punishment after what you pulled during my...divorce with cap, you’re going to babysit the spiderling so you gain some perspective”

“hold on, what?! what do you mean ‘perspective?’”

“i mean you dont know what it’s like to be in charge of the life of a teenager, so now you get to find out! congratulations on your promotion!”

it was not fun at all because peter kept blowing up your phone and you kept having to tell him there was nothing for him to do

Y/N: I’ll let you know when there’s a spider-level threat, kapeesh?

P. Parker: Yes, ma’am, sorry.

peter going behind your back to do some “superhero work”

and you having to swoop in to fix everything last second

“come on, you stole my thunder, y/n!”

“no, peter, i saved your life. next time you have a lead, call me first”

and then he didn’t 😌✨💕

“Y/N, incoming call from ‘big fat meanie’”

“put him through, JOSHIE...hey dad, how’s dubai?”

“taking care of a kid is harder than it looks, isn’t it?”

“don’t start with me”

damage control ahahah 🤡

“peter, why cant you just call me in? you don’t stop texting me for months but for this you go radio silent? you almost died. and you put a bunch of lives in danger! do you want me to have to go to your aunt and tell her you died?”

“im sorry! i just...i dont want to be a sidekick”

“kid, you’re gonna have a long time to make a name for yourself...but not if you’re dead!”

he started crying and you were very uncomfortable so you tried to hug him? it helped.

letting him off easy (just like your dad did to you growing up)

but apparently tony came back and took the suit anyways and you were pretty pissed about it

avengers moving day :) yes, part of your punishment was helping happy with moving day and hearing him gush about how you were “growing into such a responsible adult”

“happy i dont know if you noticed but ive basically been an adult since i was 12”

“keep telling yourself that, kiddo”

seeing an explosion and immediately knowing it was peter

“i’ll see you later, happy, love you!”

investigating the crash site and whaddaya know, there’s peter and his first bad guy, you were kind of proud

“peter, you okay?”

“nope!”

“okay, cool”

more damage control lmao (a/n: yall sick of damage control yet?)

a congratulatory call from your dad

“hey! you did pretty good, all things considered. why don’t you take the kid to the avengers compound for his special surprise?”

“aye aye, see you soon.”

“love you, kiddo”

“you too, dad”

quick fast forward to peter rejecting the position as an avenger while the press was outside, yes, you were surprised

but then your dad finally proposed to pepper, it was a pretty cool engagement announcement

“y/n, will you be my maid of honor?”

“duh!”

happily ever after (a/n: until the next part is up)

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koishua · 3 years ago

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ofc i get excited seeing you on my dash !! you’re one of my fav writers on tumblr ever and i simply get soo excited when i see you 🥰 NAUR i could never get suck and tired of seeing you :(( you’re one of my fav presences on this hellsite i’m so glad you’re here!

AND YES!! omg jihoon is so,, AKSDNHD in this cb i can’t !! breathe !! but he’s so cute and so annoying at times 🙄 but honestly that’s what makes him so funny and charming AHHH also can you tell i’ve been binging treasure videos all day today 💀 it’s not my fault okay!! they’re just so,, URGH irresistible

but i’ve watched eps 39 and 47 of treasure map and i feel like it’ll also become some of my fav eps of treasure map!! they made me so soft AHH and the little family that asahi and haruto had going on with eunseo :(( so adorable 🥺 and asahi saying that them seeing eunseo brings back old memories of their younger sisters made me tear up too ☹️ and yewon’s so eccentric and cute AHHH yeah i loved watching the two eps so much !! thanku for the rec (do you have any more 👀)

hope you have a great day/night ahead!

- 🎧 anon

p.s. i saw what the hate anon said, but i didn’t want to bring too much negativity back since i saw that happened a few hours ago alr,, but i just wanted to tell you that your work, and your blog is NOT overhyped and will never be. you deserve every bit of attention and every note you get and that’s literally the end of the discussion. your opinion is not needed here, hate anon. you can just leave the blog if you dislike it so much, but do NOT discredit someone’s hard work.

dawwww ;-; you're simply too sweet i adore you 🤧🤧 very honored to be one of your favourite writers too omg ;-;

PARK JIHOON!! THAT MENACE!! he is SO annoying but like, the kind where you wanna tear your hair but also can't hold back a smile bc he is that cheeky 🙁🙁 you're so right that's what give him that charm ugh and he has such a boyish smile despite his buff af body lmao bye AND YESS!! YOU WATCHED THE KIDDO EPISODES!! i watch them every three days or so to replenish my energy and make myself feel better when im down ;-;

harusahi the two pretty best friend parents ;-; DO YOU KNOW HOW DEVASTATED I WAS WHEN I FIRST SAW HIM ASK IF EUNSEO COULDN'T EAT SOMETHING TO HER MOM?? bye he is so considerate im gonna cry right here right now and sahi carrying her and making her fly up on the trampolines like *sobs* ;-;-;-; i feel so sad for them too bc like ;-; homesickness and all ;-; and and and ;-;

AND YOSHI AND BEOMHA MY TWO QUIET SWEETHEARTS THE DUO THAT MADE ME BURY MY FACE IN MY KNEES AND WAIL 😭😭 the fact that yoshi wanted to become a kindergarten teacher just makes so much sense to me ;-;-;

and yes lmao the neverending jeongwoo x yewon heartbreak saga xbbcbc she is so random i love that kid so much 😭😭 but i'd also probably cry if i had to look after her ngl my feelings are too fragile to be played with by her </3 and ofc i have some new recs!! don't mind me giving you my personal fav episodes 🏃🏃

ep 53 is all about ball sports!! they play soccer, basketball and bowling and omfl that ep bias wrecked every teume ever bc mashi KILLS it 😩😩 it's also super entertaining hehe and ep 51 is where they go to a military training bxbcbx it's HILARIOUS 😭😭 ep 32 is where they're divided into two teams and they have to live through hyunsuk and junkyu's polar opposite lifestyles!!

this got longer than i expected oml sorry anyways!! thank you so much for your considerate words :(( truly, im not at all offended or affected by the anon at all!! ik i worked hard for it haha i just like to kid around saying that i feel hurt 😔 but your words still hold true!! with the rise of the messages again, it's nice to remind everyone that hate anons do not determine your (or your craft's) worth!!

it must be late there i think?? or maybe im mixing up timezones again but yes anyways thank you!! have a great day/night wherever you are as well and stay safe <3

#🎧 anon

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 4 years ago

Text

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 15: Midnight Manhattan]

A/N: Hi y’all! Thank you so much for your patience and support. I think it’ll be worth it...this chapter has something you’ve been waiting for. Only three more chapters left after this one! 💜

Chapter summary: A family visit turns awkward, Chrissie loses her cool, Roger and Y/N have a difficult conversation, John tells the truth.

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, babies, miscarriage, cute kids, drama, angst, more drama, more angst.

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii @loveandbeloved29 @maggieroseevans @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @im-an-adult-ish @queenlover05 @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @joemazzmatazz @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @namelesslosers @inthegardensofourminds @deacyblues @youngpastafanmug @sleepretreat @hardyshoe @bramblesforbreakfast @sevenseasofcats @tensecondvacation @queen-crue @jennyggggrrr @madeinheavxn @whatgoeson-itslate @brianssixpence @simonedk @herewegoagainniall @stardust-killer-queen @anotheronewritesthedust1 @pomjompish @writerxinthedark @culturefiendtrashqueen @allauraleigh@deakydeacy

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! :)

They say losing a child will destroy a marriage, and you’re sure that’s often true; but it didn’t destroy yours.

Roger is the only one who can truly understand—who can feel that same aching and eternal, ravening absence in his bones—because he’s the only one who lost her too. He mourns with you, he stays awake through long nights with you, and when the future seems too oppressively bleak to imagine he drags you back into the light with tired daybreak smiles exchanged over mugs of tea and songs plucked on his acoustic guitar by the roaring fireplace, stories and jokes, walks through the green trellises of Hyde Park and the marble halls of the British Museum filled with ancient treasures stolen from Egypt and India and the Yucatan Peninsula, Italy and Greece, leaving craters of hollow memory littered across the planet like the imprint of the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs.

Together you bury her ashes in the garden behind the Surrey house. John brings you a pot of white calla lilies, and when the weather warms you plant them beside the small black stone carved with two names you never speak: Joan Aurora. Together you watch the blossoms grow up and grow old and wither back into the earth like everything does when the clock runs out, when the universe claims back the debt of life we borrow thinking that we own it. And through it all Roger is so persistently kind and patient and present that you’re willing to try for another pregnancy, despite the odds stacked against you like moving boxes, despite the crushing heartache that another loss would entail; despite your fearful, growing suspicion that in both casinos and the genetic lottery, the house always wins.

It never happens again, and you reach a sort of peace with this; but it’s a peace that makes you feel small and immaterial, like when you think too much about how vast the universe really is, like when you wake up restless before the dawn and wander out onto the cracked cobblestones in the garden as the sun burns the darkness off the world from east to west, watching the stars as they vanish in a sky bloodied with another world’s light.

A year passes, and then another, and then another; and every February 15th John sends you a new pot of white calla lilies to plant in the garden where other people’s children play.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Look, look, look!” Laszlo frenetically waves a crayon illustration in front of your face. On his head is the hat you knitted for him, green and featuring a large white L and with sprigs of fluffy brown hair like John’s peeking out around the edges. “I can draw like Daddy!”

It’s November 24th, 1981, and Queen is in Montreal. The band is playing two sold-out shows, one tonight and one tomorrow, and Brian and John have flown in their families for one last visit to tide their wives and children over until the touring break at Christmas. Laszlo is six years old now, Anna nearly five, Lena three, Antoni—fast asleep and presumably dreaming of such complexities as Hershey’s chocolate bars and Care Bear plushies—two; and there have been no additional Deacon children, a fact which seems to be the source of some disharmony between John and Veronica. What Laszlo has drawn with his rainbow of Crayolas most closely resembles a very chubby banana, but with black spots like a Dalmatian’s.

“Oh my goodness, you’re a young Picasso!” you exclaim. “It’s amazing! It’s a...it’s a...a...” Don’t fuck this up, don’t fuck this up. “It’s a...giraffe...?”

“Yeah!” Laszlo confirms, grinning.

Oh thank god.

“Very impressive,” John tells you. “I would have guessed pineapple with leprosy.”

“It’s not a leopard, Daddy,” Laszlo says seriously.

“Yes of course, I didn’t say leopard, I said leprosy, which is entirely different—”

“It’s not a leopard!” Laszlo insists.

“You heard the kid, Deaks,” Roger says, winking. “No leopards. Come over here, kiddo, let me see the nice giraffe...oh yes, it is so obviously a giraffe, you can tell by the expertly placed spots...”

“You’re so good with them,” Veronica marvels, perhaps not quite approvingly, noting how Antoni is dozing peacefully against your chest, a red hat stitched with a massive A snug over his jumble of auburn hair. “He never sleeps for anyone. Not even me.”

“Being comfortable to nap on is one of my many talents.”

“It’s true,” Roger notes, smiling, combing through the knots in his brittle bleached hair.

“No, no, no, don’t try to be modest, you’ve always been fantastically good at caring for people. I remember Brian was half dead when you brought him home from that hospital in Boston.” Chrissie is sitting on the floor of the dressing room with Anna and Lena, helping to facilitate a glamorous wedding for Barbie and Ken. Teddy and Evelyn, both four years old and with massive mops of dark ringlets, are scribbling on coloring book pages of screeching dinosaurs and plunging prehistoric comets above tangles of jungle treetops.

“Hmm,” Veronica agrees lukewarmly. “You’ll be a wonderful mother to your own one day.”

You wince, bite your lower lip, peer down at Antoni’s pacific little face. His eyes, when they’re open, are a greyish blue like John’s. Chrissie kicks Veronica’s ankle and glares at her. Brian glances over from where he’s tuning his Red Special, one rangy leg propped up on a chair.

“Not so sure that’s in the cards,” you demur.

“Keep praying, dear,” Veronica offers. “The Lord will provide in his own time.”

You blink at her. She stares pityingly back with infuriating, weepy eyes. Everyone is suddenly very quiet, except for Freddie; he starts humming Another One Bites The Dust and taps his white Adidas sneakers in rhythm.

“What uniquely helpful advice,” you reply.

“Well, surely one doesn’t need biological children to be fulfilled in life,” Roger tells Veronica lightly, like it’s a warning.

She looks thunderstruck, like this is such a novel concept, like Roger just shared with her the secret to time travel or immortal life. “Perhaps not, but you know...it’s so terribly important for most women.”

“How feminist,” Chrissie quips, lighting a cigarette, flicking the ashes away irritably.

John leans into Veronica. “Stop it,” you can just barely hear him say.

“It’s interesting you would bring up timing, Veronica,” you observe. “We were all so discrete about yours.”

Freddie snorts, tries to pretend it was a sneeze, smooths his moustache as he studies himself in the mirror.

“I’m just trying to help, love,” Veronica claims innocently. “All this can’t be good for you, this ceaseless globetrotting. Almost never waking up in the same place twice. The stress of it!”

“What do you want her to do?” Roger snaps. “Sit at home nine or ten months out of the year and, what, scrub the windows until I come back? Take up watercolor painting? Knit the world’s largest quilt?”

“I’m just saying that less physical and emotional strain might help with the situation.”

“Because you’re a freaking doctor, right?” Roger flares. Chrissie kicks Veronica again.

“People should spend more time close to home,” she continues, undaunted. “There’s nothing more important than family. Look at me, I should have another on the way by now, but the band’s schedule is simply murderous...”

“Trying for a football team?” you inquire. And in the same moment you realize: This isn’t about me at all. This is about her and John.

Freddie is still humming, modelling his Superman tank top and tight white jeans in the mirror, cinching and re-cinching his belt, sliding a red sweatband unto one wrist. The kids—all except the unconscious Antoni—are giggling and pushing each other around on the slippery linoleum floor, seemingly oblivious. John whispers something to Veronica, his face dark and furious.

“John should be home more,” she bursts out. “For me, for the children—”

Roger scoffs and rolls his eyes. “For christ’s sake, lady, he’s not your bloody lapdog!”

“You don’t really need him,” she protests, almost pleads. “He’s just the bassist, he thought this would be a hobby to fill his time on weekends when he was in school, he didn’t sign up to live this way and Queen could find another bassist and you don’t need him—”

“We do need him! He’s not just some bassist! He’s a genius and he’s irreplaceable and there’s absolutely no Queen without him, we swore to it, I’d leave if he ever did!”

“You did what?!” Brian exclaims. Freddie hums louder, stomping his sneakers to the beat, mock-boxing with his reflection in the mirror. John raises his eyebrows at Roger as if he had assumed Rog wouldn’t remember that, assumed he had never really meant it. Roger, flushed, fumbles with his lighter and finally lights a cigarette on his third attempt.

Antoni stirs, his eyes fluttering open, and Chrissie swoops in to take her turn holding him. She bounces him on her hip as she sashays around the dressing room, casting fierce scowls alternately at Veronica and John and Roger.

“You don’t understand,” Veronica hurls at Roger, lashing out like a cornered animal, her voice raw and splintering. “You’ve never sacrificed anything. Everything you’ve ever dreamed of just falls into your lap. No heartache. No consequences. You don’t know what it’s like to be one of the people who get burned.”

“You don’t know anything about me—!”

“Look, I get it,” you tell Veronica. “You want John to yourself. Anyone would. You want a normal life. But that’s the tradeoff when you love someone brilliant, isn’t it? You have to learn how to share them with the world. Because the world is so much better off with them in it.”

Veronica glowers, venomous and spiteful. She’s wearing makeup tonight, quite heavy makeup; she’s started doing that with increasing frequency. “I have no intention of sharing a husband the way you’ve had to.”

Roger stands, stalks to Veronica, towers over her, blows smoke into her stunned face. “Ma’am,” he says quietly, so the children won’t hear. “Go fuck yourself.”

“Okay, darlings!” Freddie flits over, pulls Roger away, fluffs his hair and straightens his black smock-like shirt as Roger glares around Fred’s shoulder at Veronica. “Fabulous. You look like a ten-year-old about to make a papier-mâché vase for his mum in art class. I adore it. Off you go.” He pushes open the door to the hallway and shoves Roger through it.

Roger nods for you to follow him, and you do.

John frowns as you pass him. I’m so sorry, that expression says.

You shake your head in reply. Not your fault.

Roger slips his arm around your waist as you disappear into the hallway with him.

“That fucking miserable, judgmental, delusional, dogmatic bitch—”

“Shhhhh.” You cup his feverish cheek with your left hand, weighty with the ruby ring he gave you four years ago in New Orleans, and yank the white bandana out of his back pocket with your right. Then you knot it around his neck, smiling. “There. Now you look a little more rock and roll.”

“You’re not mad?” he asks in disbelief. “How are you not mad?”

“She’s clearly very unhappy. I feel sorry for her.” You tug on the bandana gently, fondly. You can hear Chrissie chastising Veronica behind the closed door of the dressing room. “Don’t let it ruin your show.”

“No, I would never.” But his eyes are still distant, unsettled, anxious in a way that is rare for him. “You are a freakishly good person, you know that?”

“I try. Don’t forget to smile so I can get some good pictures.”

“Oh, I’ll smile plenty. Just like this.” A grin splits through his face, and the Roger you know and love is back: bright, triumphant, flashing the daggerish points of his canine teeth. Then he draws you into him and kisses you, his rough hands in your hair, his lips smiling against yours. “Love of my life,” he whispers, rather pensively.

He shakes out his right arm—the one with the jagged scar along the soft vulnerable underside, the one he broke in a stairwell in Yokohama in the spring of 1975—and stretches the hand a few times. And you find yourself wondering, as you always do when he seems distracted like he does now, before he starts staying out late into the night, before he starts coming home drunk or high or not at all: Is he getting bad again? Is he?

I would never have to worry about that if I had married someone like John.

You fling that thought, that inconvenient and perpetual thought, back into the shadows where it came from; like a pebble tossed into the misted tree line of a forest, like a shell pitched into the sea.

“Rog, are you—?”

“I’m fine,” he cuts you off like a blade.

~~~~~~~~~~

There’s someone screaming out in the hallway.

You reel out of bed in the darkness, step into your slippers, yank on your fuzzy white robe. The digital clock on the nightstand reads 4:11 a.m. Roger and Brian had stayed for one more round of drinks at the club when you and Chrissie left to go back to the hotel, Chrissie to relieve her nanny from kid duty, you to quiet a budding headache. You note—with a vague, drowsy sort of dread—that Roger is not in the bed beside you, his hair a disheveled blond mess peeking from beneath the covers, snoring softly, his calloused hands outstretched towards yours. Beyond the door there are earsplitting clashes of broken glass, thumps and pounding footsteps, people shouting. And now you can recognize Chrissie’s voice, shrieking and wrathful: “Now you’ve done it, now you’ve really done it, you’re going to fucking kill her!”

You throw open the door to see Roger crouched against the hallway wall, covering his head with his hands; he is surrounded by shards of glass, tiny hotel shampoo and mouthwash bottles, Bibles ripped from nightstand drawers. He’s dripping with what smells like a combination of every kind of alcohol you’ve ever tasted, and maybe some you haven’t as well.

“I wish she’d never fucking met you!” Chrissie screams, launching a bottle of Grey Goose from the minibar in her room at Roger. It explodes against the wall just above his head, and glass and vodka rain down on him. Brian is unsuccessfully attempting to coax Chrissie back into their room as she ignores him. “I wish she’d never stepped off that fucking plane because the day she agreed to come to London with you was the worst day of her life!”

“Will you stop?!” Roger yells. “Jesus christ, Chris!”

“She saved you,” Chrissie hisses, landing an elbow into Brian’s gut and sending him flying backwards. “She saved your life and this is how you repay her, you disgusting degenerate bastard!”

A bottle of Captain Morgan hits the wall and detonates two inches from Roger’s face.

“What’s going on?!” you shout at Chrissie, your arms crossed over your chest.

A few rooms down the hallway, a door opens and Freddie wanders out in a pink kimono. After a moment, John and Veronica appear from their own room in their pajamas, rubbing bleary eyes.

“I couldn’t sleep so I phoned my mum and guess what’s on the cover of the News Of The World this week.” Chrissie points at Roger. “Go on. Tell her. Tell her what you did.”

He knows; he doesn’t say anything, but he knows. You can see that he does. It’s lurking in the shallow cerulean pools of his glistening eyes like a shadow, like a ghost.

“What did you do?” John asks him, mystified.

Roger doesn’t answer. He’s looking at you, at Chrissie, back to you. It isn’t often that Roger is fearful, acutely and bone-rattlingly afraid; but he is now.

“Fine, you don’t want to own up to it? I’ll do it. I’ll tell her, you coward.” Chrissie spins to you. “Dominique Beyrand is seven months pregnant.”

I’m surrounded by goddamn mothers. “Okay. Good for her.”

Chrissie waits for it to hit you. And then it does.

Oh. Oh.

“Bleeding christ,” you hear Freddie sigh, rubbing his forehead. Veronica covers her gaping mouth with one pale hand, and she doesn’t look smug or vindicated or condemnatory; she looks terrified. John is watching you, you can see him on the periphery of your vision; you are dimly aware of him edging closer as you gaze at Roger, your eyes wide and blurring with tears, your throat burning.

You can’t understand it, can’t imagine it, and then suddenly you can: his fingers threading through her glossy black hair, his lips skating over her neck, promises whispered through nightscape phone calls, haphazard lies whispered to you; reckless, small-boned, doe-eyed children with Dom’s olive skin and Roger’s sharp little canine teeth.

This is the part where I wake up. This is the part where it turns out to be just a hellacious dream.

But you don’t wake up, because this is real.

“Oh,” you exhale, brainlessly, helplessly.

Roger doesn’t sputter some desperate apology, he doesn’t beg you to forgive him. He stares at you with huge, starry blue eyes, booze dripping from his hair, surrender etched into the concave slump of his back and shoulders.

You ask him, already knowing the answer: “It’s not just a fling, is it?”

“No,” he replies miserably. “I thought it was, but it isn’t.”

You nod, those first hot tears spilling down your cheeks. “Okay,” you concede, your words brittle and fracturing. “I’ll file as soon as we get back to London.” File for divorce. File this entire misadventure away in my mind as a horrific and juvenile mistake. Shred the good memories into oblivion so I can’t remember how alive he once made me feel.

That seems to bother Roger, jolts him into urgency. The white bandana is still tied around his neck. “You don’t have to do that—”

“Are you fucking joking?” you pitch at him. “Are you not done humiliating me yet? Am I not ruined enough? Do I somehow still look remotely whole to you?”

John’s hand closes around your wrist. “Don’t,” he tells you gently.

Roger begins: “I never wanted to hurt—”

“But you did,” you seethe, tears slithering down your face. It’s sinking in now, it’s becoming real, it’s materializing from years of gnawing distrust into fact. They were all right about him. They were always right. John’s arms circle you, holding you back as you struggle against him. “You fucking did and I forgave you like an idiot just so you could prove to me over and over and over again how exceptionally little you cared.”

“That’s not true—!”

“You’ve done enough!” Chrissie roars at him. Brian wrestles a bottle of Don Julio out of her grasp. “You deplorable slut, can’t you see that you’ve done enough?!”

Freddie approaches Roger, dusts the glinting flecks of glass out of his hair, wrenches him staggering to his feet.

“Come on,” John murmurs, towing you towards your room. Veronica is tracking him with blazing eyes. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Go ahead, Roger!” you shout as John drags you away, as Roger is corralled into Freddie’s room. “Get clean for her, get clean for her children, tell her she’s the love of your life and marry her and give her a ring but don’t forget to remind her that none of it means a single fucking thing—!”

John stumbles with you into your hotel room. He slams the door behind him, and the world goes deathly quiet. You reel aimlessly, collapse onto the edge of the bed, dazed, staring at the bland landscape paintings on the wall, ticking down the mental list of things you’ll need to get from the Surrey house: photographs, paperwork, John’s sketches, the conch shell from Ostia.

What about the calla lilies? What about her grave?

And there’s another list as well, whether you want there to be or not; a list of things you’ll never feel again.

His teeth grazing my knuckles, his palms cradling my face, his raspy voice as he writes songs on quiet nights, the way he loved our daughter, the way he sets souls alight like wildfire.

John just stands in the middle of the hotel room, heaving in ragged breaths, his hands on his waist. And for a long time, neither of you speak at all.

“Do you want me to stay?” John says finally.

“You can’t,” you reply, thinking of Veronica and the children.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“No. I’m fine. I want to be alone.”

He comes to you, lifts your chin with one careful hand, touches his forehead to yours before he leaves. “You are never going to be alone.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You hear the key clatter in the lock, and your hotel room door creaks open. You’re laying on the floor after Queen’s second show in Montreal, staring blankly up at the ceiling, counting the black dots in the tiles like stars, imagining constellations of monsters and heroes and doomed love.

John appears above you, his brow furrowed. He shuttled all of Roger’s things to Freddie’s room after you packed them up this morning, then he took Roger’s key. “What are you doing?”

“Fantasizing about my own death.”

He checks his watch. “Will you be done in twelve minutes?”

“What happens in twelve minutes?”

“We have to leave for the afterparty on a yacht.”

You groan, sitting upright, rubbing your sore and sleepless eyes with the heels of your hands. “I can’t do it, John. I don’t have it in me tonight. I can’t mingle with all of those obnoxious music industry people. ‘Yes, hi, hello, yes it’s true, I am the sad barren soon-to-be-ex-wife, oh what a charming nineteen-year-old model mistress you have on your arm there, I too was once young and desirable and disastrously stupid.’”

He smiles. “You’re still somewhat desirable.”

“Thanks.” You reach up, take his hands, let him help you to your feet.

“You realize if you don’t go I’m going to have to hide in the corner and compulsively eat miniature quiches all by myself.”

“Your enchanting wife isn’t attending?”

“She wanted to stay with the children. Also, she hates me.”

You chuckle. “She doesn’t hate you. She passionately does not hate you, which is the problem.”

“So you’ll come with me.”

You mull this over. “Can I get so drunk I forget I exist?”

“Sure. If you promise to stay near me and away from the water.”

“Yes, I suppose that you, as a convicted felon, would be high on the list of suspects if I was to go overboard.”

“Losing you would be the worst thing that ever happened to me. Who would I call to post my bail?”

You laugh as you beam up at him, knot your fingertips through his hair, see your silhouette reflected in his greyish eyes that today remind you of storm clouds, of torrential autumn rain, of thunder. “Okay. Fine. I’ll go to your torturous yacht party.”

“Aww, what a tragedy, being forced to enjoy all the trappings of stardom” John teases, and then you can see the regret wrinkle across his face; because people don’t joke about things like tragedies around you anymore.

“It’s a hard life,” you agree. “But it feels a little easier when you’re around.”

You slip into a dark blue dress and heels and your bomber jacket that doesn’t match at all. John meets you in the hallway in a black suit. You share a limo with Brian and Chrissie, who chatter nervously about anything they can think of that doesn’t involve Roger or marriage or children or love. Bri points out constellations through the open moonroof as frigid Canadian air pours in and rattles your dangling diamond earrings, whips through your hair. John smooths the runaway strands, rests his arm across the back of your seat, smiles in a tranquil sort of way and actually appears to pay attention as Brian narrates the stories of the stars and their celestial families: Pegasus, Aquarius, Pisces, tiny Triangulum, the lightning strike zigzag of Lacerta, Perseus.

“You look gorgeous,” Chrissie tells you, and she seems to mean it.

“Thank you,” you reply politely. “If only I was also French and fertile.”

The yacht is docked on the bank of the Saint Lawrence River, an island of roaring laughter and music and twinkling strands of lights in an ocean of night. John leads you onboard, waves at the photographers who douse you in flashbulb luminescence, stands with you by the railing at the stern of the vessel as it pulls out into the river. Periodically some palpably accomplished stranger will appear, shake John’s hand, start asking him about You’re My Best Friend or Another One Bites The Dust or Under Pressure; but mostly the two of you are left alone. You drain flute after flute of pink champagne as John nurses his Manhattans, debating the merits of the various appetizers; you—ever the proud Bostonian—are partial to the bite-sized lobster rolls, while John prefers the Swedish meatballs speared on puzzlingly tropical toothpick umbrellas.

Roger is on the yacht too of course, and every once in a while you catch a glimpse of his blond hair or his blush-colored polka dot suit, hear his voice carried on the cold November wind; and you ignore this as much as you can. Twice he starts migrating towards you, and you and John pretend not to notice, dart through the crowds to the other side of the boat, your hand clasped in John’s as he weaves relatively anonymously through ballgowns and suits and reporters’ microphones. And he peeks back at you, grinning, and says: “I bet you’re thrilled no one knows who I am tonight.”

Chrissie steals you away briefly to keep her company when Brian gets snared into an excruciatingly dull interview about Queen’s next album; and when Brian comes to collect her, John greets you with a fresh glass of champagne in one hand and his fourth Manhattan in the other.

“You better make sure you don’t go overboard, Mr. Deacon,” you say, taking the champagne flute and resting your forearms on the yacht’s railing as waves break against the hull. Freshwater mist peppers your cheeks, your collarbones, the backs of your hands. Through the speakers pluck the opening notes of Hotel California. “Oh god. This song.”

“Fond memories?” John asks with a smirk. “That whole night is a blur to me.”

“It makes me think of sharks for some reason. And the Olympics.”

“It makes me feel...” He considers this. “Overwhelmed with self-loathing.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re the least loathable person I’ve ever met.” You sip your champagne, gaze out into the moonlit currents that run from the Great Lakes to the Atlantic Ocean, to the shores of every place you’ve ever called your own. “How long did Dante live in exile from Florence?”

“Twenty years.”

You whistle. “That’s a long time to be away from home.” The fingers of your left hand clutch the railing, which is gold and sturdy and stingingly cold. “I feel a little like him sometimes. Except as you get older, home starts to feel less like places and more like people.” You twist off your ruby ring, glance down at it fleetingly, and toss it out into the glistening black waters of the Saint Lawrence River.

John looks over at you. “It’s really over, isn’t it?”

You nod slowly, mournfully. “Yeah. It’s really over.”

“And how are we feeling about that?”

“Relieved. Petrified. Exhausted. Mostly I’m just sad.”

“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. “For everything.”

“Why? None of it was your fault.” You sigh, shake your head, peer out into the river, into the night sky, into the stars. “Maybe this is a good thing, you know? A blessing in disguise or whatever. I can move on knowing I did everything I could to salvage the marriage. I can be free. No more waiting up at night for someone who isn’t coming home. No more searching through pockets and suitcases for white powder or used needles. No more News Of The World headlines.”

John is still staring at you.

“What?” you ask, smiling warily.

He downs the rest of his Manhattan, twirls the glass as the ice cubes clink against each other. Finally, he says: “I could have given you a very different kind of life.”

Your lips, slick with gloss and tingling with sharp carbonation from the champagne, part to ask John what he means; but then you know. Your voice is a quivering, astonished whisper. “It was about me. You’re My Best Friend.”

“Yeah, it was. And most of the others were too.”

It was about me. All those years ago, that song was about me. And it still is.

“John...”

“I watched you fall in love with Roger, watched him fall in love with you. Watched this agonizing fucking dance that you do...he can’t give you what you want, you can’t be happy with less...and I just kept waiting to wake up one day and not want you anymore. And it never happened.” He laughs, briefly, bitterly. “I mean, for christ’s sake, I refused to propose to the mother of my child until I was sure you’d stay with Roger because I thought...I thought...you know, maybe. Maybe one day you’d change your mind. And I wanted to be there if you did.”

You gaze at him, soaking him in, unambiguously aware that there is no part of you that is afraid, no part of you that is shuddering or surrendering or apprehensive; there is no instinctive chorus begging you not to fall in love with him. There’s no sensation of falling at all. It feels like you’re somewhere you’ve never left.

“I know that next to someone like Roger Taylor I don’t look like much,” John confesses. “That I don’t feel like much. That I don’t light anything up the way he does. And if you can’t imagine a future with someone who isn’t him, someone who isn’t like him...then I completely accept that. But you’re always going to feel like home to me.”

You’re My Best Friend. You And I. Spread Your Wings. In Only Seven Days. Need Your Loving Tonight.

They were all about me. They were always about me.

“John...”

You don’t know what to say. You know exactly what to say.

From the crowd, a man dressed in a blue pinstripe suit and holding a Cuban cigar bellows for John. He whirls, offers a shy wave, trots over to say hello. But as they discuss concerts and albums and tours, John’s eyes meet yours through the sea of strangers and cigarette smoke, through the shifting shadows cast by flickering incandescence and moonshine.

And you watch him as the constellations and all their stars rage above, the same stars that in the time of Dante sailors read to point them home.

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atlas-tries · 5 years ago

Text

Shatter Me

A Patton angst fic by yours truly

Read on AO3

Summary: All the sides have secrets, but none have one as lethal as the one Patton is keeping. Can he keep it under wraps long enough to resolve it or will the trauma of it all spell his undoing?

Hey guys, so this has been a long time in the making (aka since January). But I finally got this finished and I’m very proud of how it turned out. This was all based on a simple headcanon I had about how Patton experiences emotional pain. I hope you enjoy it, and the next chapter will be out next Monday! Check the notes for definitive links to the next chapter.

Chapter 1: Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones but Words Hurt Far More Deeply

At some point or another, all the sides had kept secrets from each other.

Mostly, it had to do with where they had been in the past or something silly, like the time Roman “accidentally” ate all of Logan’s Crofters. The others still kept some, likely to make a well-placed or dramatic reveal of it, and Patton was no different. He himself occasionally had physical manifestations of emotional pain. However, there was one thing he knew that wasn’t a secret.

Patton knew how they all really felt about him.

Sentimental.

Overbearing.

Naive.

Worthless.

Even if they rarely said any of those descriptors out loud or in his presence, the unspoken words came through loud and clear every time they thought he would mess something up. Which was in almost every video he appeared in. They thought he didn’t notice the dismissive remarks or the eye rolls whenever he had any ideas to share when Thomas had an issue that needed working through. It’s just ol’ Patton spouting off whatever random thoughts and/or dad jokes pop up in his head like always.

For the most part, Patton could handle whatever emotional turmoil they threw at him. He knew that despite what they thought, they still cared about him and valued his opinions. The occasional pain was worth it if they were happy. And they were, especially after Thomas had introduced them to his online community of Fanders (the part that made him the happiest). Even Patton himself had been ecstatic to reach out to so many other kiddos out there. At least, he was until they had gotten in front of the camera.

Yeah, his jokes didn’t land with the others, it wasn’t a big deal. That was no different than telling them in the Mindscape on most days. However, he really wanted to do that four-part harmony when Roman suggested it, even after they immediately shot it down when he came in. But Patton could shake that off, too. He was strong. So, imagine his surprise when he discovered short, thin cracks radiating from over his heart when he was changing into his cat onesie that evening. “Oh,” he said, running his hand delicately over them, “That must’ve gotten to me a little more than I thought.” No matter, though, they always went away within a few days.

Everything went back to relative normal in short order and Patton was back to being a happy pappy. The next few videos came and went without much fanfare. He was even featured by himself to help Thomas with his adultery! There was nothing better than that. The cracks didn’t return until just before they started planning out The Mind vs. The Heart.

That morning, Patton had been making breakfast for everyone as he almost always did. This morning was especially pleasant for him because Thomas had actually listened to Patton yesterday when he suggested he go and pet all the puppies in the pet store on the way home. Having that thought at the forefront made it easy to softly sing to himself as the bacon sizzled. Roman was already eating his as fast as he could fancifully manage.

“Roman, I know my food is good, but please don’t choke up on your swallow through,” Patton said with a smile, taking the last batch of bacon out of the pan and putting it on a plate. Roman just nodded and kept doing exactly what he was doing. “Say, you didn’t happen to see Logan when you came down, did you?” Patton was getting a little worried about Logan. It was early, yes, but the logical side always made his appearance long before now.

“Haben’t sheen ‘im thish morning,” Roman said with a mouthful of pancake.

Patton hummed, set his and Logan’s plates on the table, and grabbed some forks. He sat down at the table, picking at the eggs a little. He would feel better about eating when Logan came. As if on cue, soft squeaks came from the staircase. “Huh, speak of the devil,” Roman mumbled. Patton immediately perked up.

“Good morning, Logan!” Patton shouted. Logan stopped at the bottom of the stairs and covered his ears.

“Too loud, Pat,” Logan grumbled, making his way slowly to the table.

Patton softly replied, “Sorry. I made breakfast.” He couldn’t help but notice the dark circles beneath Logan’s eyes as he approached; they were almost dark enough to rival Anxiety’s. Patton was very much hoping that Roman wouldn’t notice, if only to preserve the peace (and the rest of his good mood, but Patton didn’t want that to be the focus).

“Thank you.” Logan sat and went straight for the coffee, downing half of it in only a few seconds. So far, so good. “Ugh, aren’t I a little old for cat-shaped pancakes, Patton?”

Patton shook his head with a smile. “You’re never too old to have a Patton paw-ncake!” he said cheerily, batting a pawed hand in the air for emphasis.

“Wow, looks like someone’s been to the dark sides this morning. Can we get a bag check on Logan’s eyes?” said Roman, going for another mouthful of bacon.

Logan wasn’t amused. “I’m sorry some of us have to work overtime to make Thomas make the right decisions,” he spat. “Sometimes it’s like I’m the only adult here.” Patton felt that familiar pain ghost across his chest.

“Ex-cuse me, how dare you say such a thing, and when Padre was nice enough to make you breakfast! And anyways, you are NOT the only one who has to pull late nights, Snide and Prejudiced,” Roman countered.

Patton said, “It’s fine, Roman, ple—”

“Really?” Logan adjusted his glasses. “Because it seems to me like you only keep Thomas up at ungodly hours fantasizing about the things you want.”

“Oh, and you don’t?”

“As the most important side, no, I don’t.”

“Oh well ex-cuuuuuuse me, Mr. President—”

From there it devolved into them shouting over each other. Roman slung eggs and syrup everywhere while wildly gesticulating. Logan kept smacking the table trying to make his points. Chocolate milk was going everywhere. They had never been so tense with each other.

“Um, kiddos?” Patton said. Neither of them heard him in the midst of their shouting match. “Kiddos?” he said a little louder, reaching out toward them. “Maybe if we just—”

“THIS DOESN’T CONCERN YOU, PATTON!” both of them yelled. Patton recoiled. Another crack split painfully across his chest. Both of them went back to screaming at each other. He couldn’t stand to see them like this, even if they were hurting him in the process. What else could he do but meet them at their level?

Patton stood abruptly and slammed his hands down on the table. “That’s ENOUGH, both of you!” he scolded. They instantly hushed, flustered and in awe that Patton could even raise his voice. He took a breath and calmly continued, “Roman, I appreciate you defending me like the noble Prince you are, but it’s okay. We know that Logan isn’t the only one that works the graveyard shift, but we shouldn’t make fun of the sides that do when they’re not in their best shape. And Logan, I know you’re tired, but—”

“Yes, from trying to mitigate the effects you had on Thomas yesterday,” Logan interrupted. “We almost adopted one of those puppies when we have neither the resources nor the time to look after one. And who was the one who had to convince him that it was a bad idea? Me!”

Even though Patton wasn’t sorry about that in the slightest, he still apologized. “You did the right thing, Logan. Why don’t you go back to bed for a little while? You’ve earned it,” Patton said. “I’ll even keep your breakfast warm for you.”

Logan nodded and left wordlessly, taking the coffee mug with him back up the stairs. With him gone, Patton looked to Roman. “You owe him an apology, mister,” said Patton.

“What? Me? He was the one being snippier than an Edward Scissorhands wannabe!” Roman cried.

“Well, you didn’t help that, now did you? But he also owes you an apology, too.” That garnered a little “oh” from the Prince. Patton sighed and took Logan’s plate to the oven, turning it on to the lowest setting.

“You know we would’ve worked it out on our own eventually, right?” Roman said. “This is just what we do.”

“I know,” Patton responded. “I think … I should start cleaning up. There’s chocolate milk everywhere.”

Roman nodded. “Okay, Padre. Is there … something I can help with, at least?” He got up and handed his mostly empty plate to Patton.

“Thanks, but I can handle it,” Patton said softly, voice barely above a whisper. He felt Roman’s hand on his shoulder and looked up at the Prince.

“You shouldn’t worry about us so much. We’ll be fine. And, uh, I promise I’ll make it up to the Grinch up there,” said Roman with a small smile.

We don’t need you smothering us.

Great! Now Patton’s thoughts were going to take it upon themselves to put translations after the other’s words! Patton tried to return a smile despite the pain in his chest growing. It must’ve convinced him because Roman, with a final pat on his shoulder, turned and left. As soon as Roman was completely out of sight, Patton rubbed at the cracks to try and soothe their aching. It never worked, but it made him feel a little less like a sad dad. Oh well. At least they’d disappear soon enough.

Or not.

A few days after Losing Motivation came out, Patton had once again busied himself in the kitchen, this time baking chocolate chip cookies while humming along to the Disney showtunes that Roman had playing in the living room. No doubt Thomas would have them stuck in his head by the end of the day. Not that it was a problem in Patton’s mind; the music really helped him ignore the constant throbbing pain that those ugly fractures left on his chest. Better to have Disney showtunes on the brain than a recent ex-boyfriend, right?

The oven timer let out a short ding! at the start of the chorus to Prince Ali. “Oh cookie, where would I be if you weren’t hooooot,” Patton sang over the lyrics. He danced over to the oven while putting on heart-patterned oven mitts. “So full of sweets from eating way more than I ouuuuggghhht. To.” He took the finished cookies out of the oven and twirled around to the music, kicking the door closed and sliding the baking sheet onto the stove in one smooth motion.

Patton made quick work of getting them off the baking sheet and onto a plate. “Cookies are ready!” he shouted. Quick, thundering steps met his cry and in seconds, Roman was in the kitchen juggling three.

“Don’t mind if I do, Pat,” said Roman. Fear never deterred Roman, not even when in the face of third degree mouth burns from oven-fresh cookies. Patton would be lying if he said he wasn’t proud of his son for being so brave (even if another part of him was terrified of Roman getting hurt). “Hanksh,” he said with a mouthful of molten cookie, pretending that it wasn’t actually too hot but still doing the hashafashafa thing to cool it down while he ate.

“You’re welcome, son,” Patton replied. He looked at the cookies and remembered why he was making them in the first place. Ever since Anxiety had made himself known, Patton had been trying to reach out to him. Sure, he was dark and broody and sometimes the others had a little trouble seeing how important his contributions were, but he wasn’t the villain that they made him out to be. Anxiety deserved to feel welcome, and that was something Patton would always advocate for.

He set a few of the cookies on another plate for the rest of the sides (and himself) and poured a glass of milk. “Anxiety’s gonna love this!” He picked the cookies and milk up and danced them out of the kitchen, making sure to pass by Logan on the way. Not that it was hard, he was almost always studying at the dining room table. “Hey Logan, do you wanna eat a cookie?” Patton sung to the tune of Do You Wanna Build a Snowman?

Logan glanced up from his book. “I would prefer not to as I am attempting to set a good example for Thomas by abstaining from sugar,” Logan responded.

“Ah. Well, more for me and Anxiety, then!” said Patton. “If you change your mind, there are some more in the kitchen.”

Logan put the book down and said, “Hold on, are you telling me you’re still intent on making friends with him?”

“Well, yeah, what’s so bad about that?” Patton asked.

“I can’t believe I have to explain this to you again. Anxiety has no place with us, Patton, and it’s time that you stop pandering to him. There’s a very good reason why he lives with … them, and not us.”

The little fissures began slowly spreading. Patton was getting good at keeping it under wraps. And under shirts. “Now Logan, just because he’s a little different from us doesn’t mean that he has bad intentions. Sure, he started out in a bad place, but who’s to say that he can’t grow out of that? Sometimes, people just need a push in the right direction to shine. Bright like a diamond~,” Patton sang the last part, which earned him a groan. “I promise, if I felt fishy about any of this, I wouldn’t be doing it.”

“Why would you feel like a fish? Do fish even feel?” Logan said, genuinely perplexed.

Patton sighed. “Gosh, words can be tough. What I mean is that I don’t feel bad about reaching out to Anxiety, not when he’s been reaching out to us in his own way. I don’t get the feeling that he means us harm.”

“But you have to admit that when it comes to character judgement, you can be too forgiving,” Logan said.

“… Is that a bad thing?” Patton quietly replied, wincing a little as the cracks splintered further.

Logan’s eyes narrowed. “Patton, are you feeling alright?” he asked.

Oh, no.

“Of … course I am!” Patton said. “I’m Morality, why wouldn’t I be feeling?”

Logan grunted and adjusted his glasses. “Let me rephrase that. Patton, moments ago, you clearly indicated you were in pain. Am I interpreting this cue correctly?”

“Um …” Patton stalled. Maybe it was time to tell someone about this; it wasn’t like he could keep hiding it forever. With a sigh, he replied, ��Yeah.” Oh no no no no, he couldn’t do this.

Logan stood there silently for a few moments before realizing that no explanation was going to come out of him without prompting. “Would you care to explain what’s causing it? I can perform first aid if necessary,” he said, stepping toward Patton.

Patton backed away and put his hands up. “I’m alright, really. It’s just … a little heartburn is all. You know me, not waiting until the cookies are cool to start munchin’! It should go away soon,” he replied. He couldn’t describe how badly he wanted to get out from under Logan’s scrutiny.

“If that’s all, then, here,” Logan conjured some Tums, “please take two of these.” He offered the bottle to Patton, who took it with a smile.

“Thank you, Logan, where would we be without you?” said Patton. He took some out of the bottle and made a show of chewing them up. Even if he didn’t really need them, he wanted to be sure that Logan felt listened to.

“What is that on your neck?” Logan asked, gesturing on himself where he thought he saw something.

“Hmm?” Patton felt around in that general area, squeaking softly when he felt a small but deep fracture across his skin. How did he not notice that before? Quick, Patton, think of something! “It’s uh … it’s chocolate!”

Logan’s eyes narrowed again. “Chocolate?”

Patton smiled. “Yeeeaahhhh, I must’ve gotten chocolate on myself when I was making these cookies. Silly me,” he lied, waving a dismissive hand. Well, it wasn’t totally a lie; he did still have some chocolate on his hands.

That seemed to sate the logical side. “Very well then, be sure to wash that off. And I know that no matter what I say, you’re still going to take your cookies to Anxiety. Just, please be careful around him, no matter how he makes you feel. We do still need you to help keep Thomas functioning normally,” said Logan.

“Thank you, Logan, I appreciate that. I promise I’ll be careful,” Patton said with a smile. Logan gave him a curt nod and went back to his studies. Some of the pain subsided with that last comment, which Patton was very grateful for. If it had been anywhere near what it was before, he couldn’t have done what he had set out to do without cuing Anxiety on to his problems. With as much of a smile as he could muster, Patton picked up the cookies and milk and headed down to Anxiety’s room. Thankfully, Logan didn’t notice him adjusting his cardigan along the way.

Patton always thought it was odd that the doorway to the darker side of Thomas’s mind would be inside the broom closet at the end of the hall. In another way, it made a lot of sense when he thought about it a little harder. Anything he wanted hidden would be stowed in here for safe keeping until he was ready to confront it. Plus, it made an excellent visual pun that made Patton giggle every once in a while. He opened the door, carefully balancing the plate on his arm.

“Let’s see, last time I made two rights, a left at the weird eyeball painting that stares at you, another right, then a left, and it’s the last door on the left,” Patton mumbled to himself as he walked through the dark side’s labyrinthine corridors. “Please let there be no spiders this time.”

In between the first two rights, a yellow-gloved hand slithered its way around the edge of the corner in front of Patton, making him stop dead in his tracks. No no no, not now! “Well well well, if it isn’t Morality,” Deceit stepped out in front of Patton, “have you finally decided to join us AND bring us cookies? I know we would all be devastated if you did.” His ever-present smirk seemed even more delighted than normal.

“Um, no. I’m just bringing Anxiety some cookies like I’ve been doing for a while now. You know that,” Patton replied. This definitely wasn’t making him uneasy.

“Indeed I do, and I also know something else.” Deceit strode forward until he was uncomfortably close. “You’ve been hiding something I find to be … most exquisite. If you keep that up, you’re liable to put me out of a job. Tell me, how long do you think you can play my game but keep me away from the field? Or even better,” he slowly circled Patton, eyes ever trained on him, “how long do you think you can keep their prying eyes away from your little secret?” He gently touched the center of Patton’s chest, which made him hiss and nearly drop the cookies and milk.

Patton had to take a moment to catch his breath. “I refuse to … make this their problem,” he gasped. He could’ve sworn he saw a few glowing drops of his essence through his shirt where Deceit’s finger had been.

“Oh, of course you don’t. I don’t know how many times I’ve heard that one. They’re obviously trying to hurt you by saying and doing all of these little things and telling them this would only make them want to do it more,” Deceit said, coming to stop in front of Patton.

“Look, I know you’re just trying to look out for me in your … own way and I appreciate it, but please, Dee … I can’t tell them this. It would break them even more than it’s breaking me— and I won’t have it.”

Deceit’s smile faded. “You don’t want to listen to reason? Fine. But I leave you with this,” he shook a finger and slowly began sinking out, “what would hurt them more: the others finding out about this now or the others finding out about this when you’re in itty. Bitty. Pieces?” His last words echoed through the empty halls, chilling Patton to his core.

He knew Deceit was right, in his own roundabout way. That was one of his greatest assets: he was a brilliant analyst despite his airs, one that could keenly rival Logan’s perceptive inclinations. It was also what Patton dreaded about him. He couldn’t hide anything from Deceit, not that there was much he could do to hide all the cracks given how many there were.

“No!” Patton said to himself. This wasn’t the time for getting absorbed in thoughts! This was supposed to be bonding-with-his-precious-anxious-baby time, gosh darn it, and he was not going to waste any more time thinking about all the things that were hurting him! Putting on his best determined dad face, Patton quickly marched toward Anxiety’s room.

Before he could get too far, though, he saw Anxiety’s familiar, brooding figure lurking through the halls. He perked up almost imperceptibly when he saw Patton coming. “Oh, there you are. Not like I was worried about you being late or anything,” he said, fiddling with his hoodie strings.

Patton just smiled, relieved that Anxiety hadn’t noticed the little, slightly glowing stains on the front of his shirt. “Of course not. Shall we?” he replied. Anxiety nodded.

The two shared a nice, albeit short, time in Anxiety’s room talking through everything they could. Anxiety’s particular favorite seemed to be picking through Disney movies (or really any movie) to find all of the dark origins or morbid underlying themes they held. While Patton liked being able to spend time with Anxiety, the combination of being in his room for longer than around half an hour and the negative talk were lying heavily on his chest. Still, he never let it show that those cracks were slowly spider-webbing across his skin.

By the end of the day, every step was a Herculean task for Patton. He barely made it back to his room without stumbling. Still, there was one last thing to be done: survey the damage he had accrued. He trudged into the bathroom and grasped the sink with shaking arms, head hanging heavily. “Alright, head up on three, Patton. One, two, three,” he said, letting go of the sink and looking up in the mirror. Despite his weathered appearance, not much could be seen with his shirt still on aside from two small fractures that forked up either side of his neck. The few that had made it past his sleeves were so thin that he didn’t even notice them at first. Patton sighed. He really didn’t want to look at the epicenter of the damage. “Right after this, you can go to bed,” he bartered with his reflection. He gently lifted the hem of his shirt up and nearly fainted from what he saw.

The cracks at the center of Patton’s chest had turned more into chasms where his skin had chipped away like broken porcelain. His essence shone through, now a raging blue storm that threatened to break through the invisible barrier where his skin should be. From there, the light bled through into the smaller fissures that spanned his entire torso, front and back. He knew it was bad, but it had never been to this extent. He gently touched the edge of the center break and accidentally dipped his finger into the blue fluid. The tears he had repressed welled up in his eyes, spurred on by a jolt of raw emotion. Patton quickly wiped the fluid off onto his pants. The tears no longer had any driving force behind them.

“Oh Patton, you’ve got to remember not to do that,” he once again told his reflection. He had forgotten how much emotional sway his essence had when he touched it. Patton knew he couldn’t keep the happy act up like this. So, what else could he do but make himself as scarce as possible until it healed at least a little bit?

And that’s exactly what he did.

#atlas writes #patton angst #sanders sides angst #patton sanders #long post #this first chapter is a little more than 4000 words #which honestly that's just a tiny chunk in comparison to what i have written #shatter me #shatter me story

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sunmoonandeddie · 5 years ago

Text

i’ll be home for christmas

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 4,019

summary: Bucky made a promise to his girl, and Steve helps him keep it.

warnings: Some h*ckin’ words.

a/n: So like. I just slapped this together when the idea came to me last night. Let me know what you think!

Bucky Barnes was tired.

And not the tired that came from being on your feet all day, no. He was the kind of tired that was bone deep. It sunk down underneath his skin and took root in all the small crevices of his body. It lingered in the lines on his palms and the soft skin behind his knees.

He let out a groan befitting his true age as he got up off the bed, moving to his dresser. A picture frame sat on the dark wood, an old engagement ring sitting next to it. His eyes rested on your face for an extra minute or two as he took in a deep breath.

It was a picture of you from 1942. You were wearing that pretty green dress that brought out your eyes, your hair perfectly curled. From a first glance, the photo looked so serious, but he could see the twitch of a poorly contained smile at the corner of your lips. It was a photo your mother had taken with your family’s color camera.

A luxury, in those days.

Your family had been one of the ones a little better off after the stock market crashed. You weren’t thrown into the same kind of poverty that he was.

Your family was old money and old money didn’t crash and burn because it didn’t believe in the banks. Your father kept your family’s fortune in a safe in your house.

When the banks had failed, you guys had stayed afloat.

Not that your family hadn’t helped out others. You’d been so kind. Your father had given him a winter coat when he’d seen that his was several sizes too small and worn thin.

Bucky had been eighteen and still wearing the coat he got when he was twelve.

Your father had also been his boss when he worked at the docks, and had subsequently been the reason that his family had survived those harsh years. They hadn’t been able to survive on his pa’s savings forever, especially not after his ma lost her job when she broke her hand.

But that was so long ago.

“We’re doing some pretty big things today, darlin,’” he said as he pulled on his jacket. “Stevie’s going back in time to take the Infinity Stones back. He’s gotta take them to the exact moment in time they were taken or it’ll create alternative timelines or something like that. It was a lot of words that even I couldn’t understand, and you know how much of a nerd I am.” He took a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair. “I miss you, baby,” he whispered as he pressed two fingers to his lips before gently touching the glass of the photo frame, right where your lips were. “I love you always.”

“BARNES!”

Bucky looked up to see his supervisor, Davies, calling him over. He wiped his hands on his jeans as he headed over, calling out, “Yes, sir?”

“We’ve got a new shipment coming in late tonight. Is there anyway you could come in?” Davies asked, at least having the decency to appear a little apologetic. “I’ll throw in a coupla extra bucks for ya, kid.”

He sighed, glancing down at his shoes. They were his one good pair and they were starting to wear through. There was no denying that he was going to need a new pair in the upcoming months, and that’s not to mention how fast Becca was growing.

She’d need a new dress within just a few weeks, he was sure of it.

And Christmas was coming up. Fuck.

As much as Becca insisted that she didn’t need a Christmas present, that she understood how rough things were, he still needed to do something for her. He needed to preserve that little bit of normalcy, that idea that Christmas was special.

Maybe a new pair of stockings. Or some mittens. Something small and simple that he might be able to afford.

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that,” he said.

“Thanks, kiddo,” Davies said with a grin. “You’re the best damn guy we got working here. Keep it up. Maybe there’s a promotion in your future.”

God, he hoped so. With how bleak everything had been, his family could really use the knowledge of knowing that he had a secure job and secure pay, even if it wasn’t a lot.

The chatter of the men around him died down a little with the sound of heels clacking on the wet docks, and he turned to see you walking towards the main office, a bag in your hand. You wandered the edge of the docks, eyes on the water that crashed up against the concrete walls.

You didn’t seem to notice the way the men were staring at you, or if you did, you hid it well. You burrowed down into your thick winter coat, the mink fur lining the color keeping your ears warm. Your hair was styled in a sleek French twist, a style his ma used to do a lot for Sundays at church.

You were beautiful.

But Bucky watched almost in slow motion as your heel slipped on the ice that covered the docks, your eyes going wide as you fell into the icy water with a crash.

The other men were frozen in place, not sure what to do. They were torn between wanting to help and not wanting to risk the icy depths.

His heart pounding, Bucky ran for where you’d disappeared, tearing off his threadbare coat along the way. The men shouting at him sounded like buzzing in his ears as he dove in.

Eyes stinging from the salt water, he felt his heart jump as he saw you struggling to swim to the surface, bogged down by heavy skirts and your coat. He grabbed you by the waist, holding you close to his chest, before pushing up to the surface.

Blinking away the water in his eyes, he was greeted with men surrounding the area that he’d jumped from.

You were sputtering in his arms, coughing up water and clutching onto him for dear life.

“I’ve got you,” he said, his legs working in overtime as he worked to keep both of you afloat. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

“SOMEONE GIVE ‘IM A HAND!”

Bucky passed you off to one of the men, waiting for you to be pulled up onto the docks before he allowed several hands to pull him up. He collapsed on the cold concrete, staring up at the sky as he tried to catch his breath. He pushed himself up, grabbing his coat from where it’d fallen. “You’re gonna catch your death,” he said as he threw it over you, trying to shield you as best as he could from the wind coming off the water.

“FLOWER! FLOWER!”

He looked up to see the big boss man, the one who owned the docks, running towards them. His eyes widened as he realized that you looked remarkably like him.

“D-Daddy,” you stammered, coughing up more water.

“Oh, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” her father said as he fell to his knees in front of you. He held your face in his hands as he checked you over for any sort of injuries. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” you insisted, holding onto him. “Thanks to him.” You nodded over to Bucky, and it was then that your father finally seemed to notice him.

He swallowed as the man’s eyes fixed on him. “You saved my daughter?” He asked.

Bucky slowly nodded. “It was nothing, sir,” he insisted.

“It wasn’t nothing,” he insisted, helping you up. He held out a hand to Bucky, who gave him a look of bewilderment.

It wasn’t often that rich men held out their hand to poor boys like him.

“She needed help, and I wasn’t going to leave her in there,” he said with a shrug as he shoved his hands into his pockets. He tried to play off just how cold he was, his wet clothes sticking to his skin and starting to turn to ice. If he looked closely at his fingers, he could see them starting to turn blue.

Her father seemed to notice his predicament and took off his coat, pulling it around his shoulders. “Come on into the office. We’ll get you two nice and warmed up,” he said.

Bucky didn’t know what else to do, so he just nodded and followed him.

“Thank you.”

He looked over in surprise to see you looking up at him with pretty eyes, a flush in your cheeks that he suspected had nothing to do with the cold. “It was nothing,” he repeated, glancing down at his feet.

Steve would have a field day about how he’d done something stupid enough to warrant a scolding from his ma, something that the blond was usually on the end of.

“You saved my life,” you whispered, holding his coat tightly around you. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

The others were waiting for him down by the time travel thing. He could never be bothered to ask the actual name. He knew that the others had used Pym Particles to go back, but the actual contraption didn’t seem to have a name other than ‘time machine’ and it seemed like such a lame name for something so fucking cool.

Steve was getting ready to go, chatting with Sam idly as they stood there. Banner was messing with the controls.

He’d seen photos of the Hulk before, but the weird mix of both Banner and the green rage monster was… unsettling, to say the least.

Steve sighed as he walked over to Bucky, eyeing him slowly. “You know, Buck, I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s never a good thing,” he teased, a sly smile creeping up on his lips.

He laughed, shaking his head in slight amusement. “I want you to come with me on this. Help me out.” He wrapped an arm around him. “You didn’t get to do the whole time travel thing with us, and we have more than enough Pym Particles.”

Bucky looked at him, trying to get a read on his eyes. Finally, he let out a chuckle. “Okay. Sure. I’ll go with you to help with the Stones.”

And within two minutes, he had one of those fancy contraptions on his wrist and a quantum suit had materialized around his clothes.

Returning the Stones was easy. And time travel was exhilarating, to say the least. In all of his wildest dreams, he’d never imagined anything like it.

Steve took an extra long moment when they returned the Tesseract to the seventies, stealing a moment to observe Peggy in her natural element.

She was a force to be reckoned with, but she always had been.

Bucky knew what Steve wanted to do. They’d talked about it the night before.

His best friend wanted to go back to the forties to get his life with the Brit, with his first love.

And he got it. He really did. He understood the longing to go back, to steal back the life that was taken from him.

But Peggy had a life ahead of her. One that Steve wasn’t a part of. She had a husband and children and grandchildren.

“We got one last stop,” the blond said as he turned away from the window he’d been observing her in her office through. His eyes lingered on the photos of her family on her desk as he typed new coordinates, and with a flash, they were gone.

“Where are we?” Bucky asked as he glanced around.

But even as he asked, he knew.

Brooklyn. 1940-something.

A thin blanket of snow covered the ground, but there was already more coming down. It coated his lashes and his long hair in a white dust.

“The war ended in September,” Steve said, leading him down the alleyway. “Figured it’d be best to drop you off where there wasn’t a war going on.”

“Drop me off?” He took in every sight, smell, and sound like it was a drug. He’d missed this place so much. As much time as he spent in the twenty-first century, it never felt like home. He always felt like he was on his toes, like he couldn’t relax.

Steve stopped in front of a familiar townhouse, a sly smile on his lips that was barely visible in the dim light of the streetlamp. “If I remember correctly, you made someone a promise. And I intend to help you keep it.”

“Stevie–”

He shook his head, his eyes fixing him in place. “Listen, jerk. I’m not going back to Peggy. I did some thinking, and it’s not right,” he said. “She’s got her own life, her own love. Maybe mine is out there. But yours…” He looked up towards the window that Bucky knew peered into the kitchen, a soft light illuminating the flowers lining the sill inside that you were nicknamed after. “I know you’ve read her file. You know she never married, never moved on. That’s the love of your life, and you have the chance to be with her.”

“But what about you? And Sam?” He asked, his voice cracking with emotion. His eyes burned as he tried to hold the tears back.

Steve smiled warmly as he slung an arm around his shoulders. “Sam and I are gonna be just fine. He’s gonna need someone to listen while he rants about how the shield is more trouble than it’s worth more often than not and how people expect Captain America to be Mr. Apple Pie,” he said.

Bucky nodded, rubbing the heels of his palms against his eyes. “Tell him I said bye, okay? And that I’ll miss him.” As much as he didn’t like to admit it, the man had grown on him. He considered him one of his best friends. They gave each other shit, but he knew he’d take a bullet for him. “And he’s an ass.”

The other man let out a chuckle, nodding as he pulled him into a tight hug. “I’ll miss you, jerk.”

“Yeah, I’ll miss you, too, I guess,” he said, squeezing him for an extra moment. Everything he’d been through in the past seventy years felt like it was all coming to a head in this moment. “I love you, punk.”

“I love you, too.” Steve pulled back, pulling a letter out of his suit pocket. “Give this to Peggy. She’ll know what to do.”

With a nod and one last hug, Bucky turned to go up the steps of your townhouse, his hands sweating as he knocked on the door.

January 4th, 1945

My dearest Sunflower,

I’m still alive. I know you’re ready to kick my ass for not writing to you in a few weeks, but we’ve been unable to find a post office.

Steve is good. The other guys are good. We’re doing alright for ourselves.

We’re somewhere in Austria right now. I can’t tell you exactly where, and they might redact it anyway.

It’s cold as hell here. Even colder than the water I jumped into to save you that day we first met. Remember that? I thought you were the prettiest gal I’d ever seen. Still do.

To be honest, darling, I don’t think even your father’s coat could keep me warm here. We have to keep fires going at all times One of the men got frostbite in his fingers because he didn’t wear his gloves.

I’m sorry I wasn’t there for Christmas. I know that you looked mighty pretty in whatever dress you wore though. I bet it looked real good with that ring on your finger. Becca said in her letters that you never take it off. I just want you to know how often I think about that. It gives me a little happiness, knowing that you’re going to be my wife when all of this is over. I keep your picture right over my heart. The one your ma took a few months before I got drafted.

A lot of the other men aren’t so lucky. They don’t have a gal to go home to. Definitely not one was pretty as you. When your letters arrive, I let them read them as long as they promise not to mess it up. They really liked that hair ribbon and the photo of you and Becca you sent me.

I think it gives them hope, knowing that there’s still love in this world to give and to receive.

For Christmas, there weren’t many gifts. Steve did give me an extra few pairs of socks. I gave him an extra blanket I found lying around.

I know you’re going to say otherwise, but I can’t stop feeling like I failed your pa. The one thing he asked of me when he left was that I look after you and your ma and I promised him I would. I told him I wouldn’t come over here and risk my ass.

I ran into him a few weeks ago. He was going around with some of the other higher officers, talking to the troops.

Needless to say, he was surprised to see me.

He looked so mad when he pulled me into his makeshift office, I thought I’d die right there. You know how much his opinion means to me. I’d never had a good father figure until I met him. My pa was never like him. Never treated my ma or my sister with the respect and love your father has. I never knew fathers could be kind until I met him.

So I told him everything. I told him about getting drafted, how I’d tried to get out of it. I hadn’t even told Steve that. Only you.

Thanks for not telling him I was over here. I know it was awful of me to ask such a thing of you, but he swears he’s not upset with you and he understands.

He cried when I told him I’d been drafted, that I’d done my best to stay home and keep you and your ma safe. I cried, too. I’m not ashamed to admit it.

He was a little upset with me for not going home when I had the chance, but I told him I had to stay with Steve and make sure he stays safe.

But I promise you, I’ll be home for Christmas. I don’t know if it’ll be this Christmas or the next or the next, but I’ll make it home to you, okay? I pinky promise.

I have to go. Steve’s just got word that Zola is on the move.

All my love,

Your Jamie

You took a long swig of wine as you read the letter for the eighth time tonight. No matter how much of the bottle you drank, it didn’t numb the pain.

He never came home.

You’d held onto that letter, rereading it so many times that the paper had gone soft. Some of the words were blurred from tear stains.

It was the last letter you ever received from him.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

You looked up in surprise, glancing over at the clock. “Who the hell is knocking on my door at midnight?” You asked yourself as you pulled on your robe to cover your nightgown.

Which, it wasn’t like you were sleeping.

After spending Christmas Eve cooking with your ma, Winifred, and Becca, you were exhausted. But you were all determined to get it done so you could spend Christmas Day relaxing.

A pang twisted your heart as you glanced down, your ring catching in the light.

Even after two years, you didn’t have the heart to take it off.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

You huffed, tying your robe tightly. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” Flicking on the front hallway light, you didn’t bother to look through the peephole at whoever the hell was at your door. Wiping away a few lingering tears, you flung open the door, ready to chew the person out, but the words caught in your throat.

James Buchanan Barnes was standing on your doorstep. Even though he looked a few years older, with his long hair and thick beard, there was no doubt in your mind that it was him.

“J-Jamie?” You stammered, tears pricking your eyes. “Is it really you?”

“It’s really me, sunflower,” he said, shuffling his feet.

The smile he gave you was so boyish and charming, so Jamie, that you fell to your knees. Sobs wracked your body as you tried to catch your breath. “I-I thought you were dead! They told me you were!”

“I promised you I’d be home for Christmas.” Bucky fell to his knees with you, gathering you up in his arms. “It’s me, baby. It’s me. I’m here. I’m home. And I’m never leaving you again.”

Sniffling, you grabbed his face in your hands, pushing his hair back. “Your hair,” you laughed, toying with the silky strands. “Your hair is so long.” Your fingers moved to cup his jaw, a giggle breaking through the sobs. “And your beard!”

He let out a chuckle, resting his forehead against yours. His hand found your left, running over the stones on the ring that he’d given you with a promise to come home years ago when he’d been shipped off. “I have so much to tell you, my love. But I’m home.”

The feeling he could never find in the twenty-first century was back. The weariness in his bones disappeared as he held you against his chest, smoothing down your hair as he rocked you back and forth. The feeling of being home at last bloomed in his chest.

You rested your head on his shoulder, blinking away tears as you stared out at the snowy sky, holding him tight. You didn’t care that you were half inside and half out, or that the neighbors could see you.

But you were startled to see Steve Rogers leaning against the streetlamp, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked like he’d been put through the ringer just like Bucky.

And he looked so much bigger. You’d seen the newsreels of him, but nothing compared to seeing him standing just a few feet away.

“Thank you,” you mouthed to him.

He gave you a nod, a teary smile on his face, before fiddling with something on his wrist and disappearing into thin air.

Grabbing Bucky’s face in your hands, you pressed sweet kisses all over his hair and his face. “You’re never allowed to scare me like that ever again,” you said, leaning back to look in his eyes. Even though they were sparkling with delight, there was a hauntedness to them that you had no doubt had something to do with the metal arm that was currently holding you. But you were sure that would be explained later. Right now, you were just grateful to have him home. “You hear me? I’ll… I’ll put you on house arrest if I have to!”

He grinned, basking in your kisses like they were summer sunshine. “Trust me, darlin,’ I’m not going anywhere.” He pressed a bruising kiss to your lips, his flesh hand holding the back of your head.

It felt just as good as all the kisses you’d gotten from him before, maybe even better.

“I gotta ask you something,” he said as he leaned back just enough to brush his nose against yours.

“You can ask me anything, Jame, long as you stay here with me,” you murmured, kissing him once, twice, three more times before letting him speak again.

An impish grin tugged at his lips. “Where the hell are your decorations? I come home and I don’t even get some mistletoe to kiss you under?”

Rolling your eyes, you leaned your forehead against his. You relaxed as you felt his steady, strong heartbeat under your palm. For the first time since he’d been deployed over to Europe, you felt complete. “I don’t need mistletoe to kiss you under, Sarge.”

#bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic

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neerasrealm · 4 years ago

Note

... okay. but. poly slenjack with y/n. and y/n has a child, maybe three years old, from an old relationship which didnt work out. and them meeting over the child and y/n watching Lj and Lj thinking its their little sibling, bc apparantly y/n looks younger than they are. and yeah- than they meet slender and everythings fine, and then the shock. the child called y/n a parent name :o okay weird but Im tired sorry qwq

I’ve had this ask sitting in my inbox for forever and I’m SORRY I didn’t have any ideas for it until a few weeks later and then some stuff came up and I just didn’t have energy to work on anything but- it’s finally done. Sorry it’s short but- I did my best eheh-

‘’Alright, we’re here.’’

You stop your car and look into the back seat where your child sits. Their name is Sam, and they’re the smallest cutest thing, with short curly hair the exact same colour as yours and big innocent eyes. They look up from their small plush rabbit and stare at you. You smile gently. They’re a little sweetheart, and a little shy, but what kid isn’t?

You open the car door and step out. You unbuckle their car seat and take their tiny hand in yours. ‘’C’mon sweetie.’’ you say gently. ‘’There’s someone I want you to meet. I think you’ll like him.’’ you smile down at them. They look up at you with big, curious eyes. The two of you walk through the park to the kid’s playground. Despite the fact that you’re supposed to be the responsible parent, you can’t help but feel excited as you approach the park. Why? Well- you have a crush on a children’s performer. Specifically one that dresses like a clown and speaks in a thick cockney accent. Your taste in men is amazing, I know.

His name is Jack, and you've only met him a couple of times. Funnily enough though, not through him being a performer, but instead Jack's- well er- his husband. Yes, you're crushing on a married man but-! He's already in a relationship with two people. He has a wife too. And well- both of his spouses are attractive. You may or may not be crushing on both of them as well.

As you approach the playground you spot him. He's not hard to miss. Jack is tall, extremely so. He dresses in striped socks and sleeves, along with shorts and a short grey shirt that only really covers his chest. Oddly, he covers his torso with bandages, and on his shoulders he wears tufts of feathers. It's an odd costume, but certainly an eye-catching one. You smile and pick Sam up. ‘’C’mon sweetheart. You’ll like him, I promise.’’

It’s still early, so Jack hasn’t attracted too big a crowd yet. Just a few kids and parents. You watch him stretch, then grin at the few kids watching him. He backs up, then bolts forward into a cartwheel, that goes into a series of flips followed by ballet spins and-

‘’AAH-!’’

Jack spins directly into you and you stumble back. You hear him yell in surprise and something grabs you, keeping you from falling. You blink in surprise and right yourself. Poor little Sam is clinging to you in fear.

‘’Ah- sorry abou’ tha’ luv! I didn’ see ya,’’ Jack’s rough voice makes you look up. He gives you a worried smile. ‘’Ye okay?’’

‘’Yes, I’m alright.’’ you smile at him, then glance at Sam. ‘’You okay sweetie?’’

‘’Mmm-’’ Sam buries their face in your shoulder, glancing at Jack in fear. You bounce them in your arms slightly. Jack smiles and leans down to look at them.

‘’Ey kiddo.’’ he coos. ‘’Did I scare ya? I’m sorry abou’ tha’.’’

Sam stares at him. You comb your hand through their curly locks and smile at the clown. ‘’They’re a little shy.’’ you murmur. Jack smiles, glancing up at you for a second before looking back at Sam.

‘’Tha’s alrigh’,’’ he steps closer and leans down, holding out a bony black hand. ‘’Me name’s Jack. I’s nice ta meetcha, kiddo!’’ he chirps. Sam doesn’t shake his hand. Jack moves his palm up and cocks a brow instead. ‘’High five?’’ Sam reaches out and pats their tiny palm against his. He grins and chuckles. You smile to yourself. ‘’Who’s yer friend, kiddo?’’

Sam looks down at their plush rabbit, then up at Jack. ‘’...Christopher.’’ they mumble. Jack breaks into a wide grin.

‘’Tha’s a grea’ name!’’ he chirps. You gently put Sam down and let them step slowly towards Jack. He crouches down to them and smiles. ‘’Ye ever seen me shows b’fore kiddo?’’ he asks. Sam shakes their head. ‘’Wouldja like ta?’’ Sam gives a nod. Jack grins and stands up, gesturing for them to follow. You smile gently and watch Sam follow quickly after him. They’re both so cute...your heart flutters. Jack is good with kids- maybe you could use that as an excuse to get to know him better, then you two could get close and-

‘’Good morning.’’

You whirl around in surprise and see- Jack’s husband. He’s tall, thin and very pale. Almost white. His hair is a very fair blonde, and he’s wearing a proper black suit. He smiles at you. You smile back. ‘’Oh-! Good morning!’’ you smile a bit. ‘’I didn’t think I’d see you here.’’

Jack’s husband, who’s name is Guy, laughs gently. ‘’I wasn’t planning on coming down, but Jack forgot his lunch,’’ he holds up a plastic lunchbox. ‘’But then I saw him with you and little Sam and- eheh, I thought it was cute.’’ he pauses for a moment, looking at Jack with a soft smile. ‘’He’s such a sweetheart, isn’t he?’’

You nod. ‘’He is...they both are.’’ you chuckle a bit and look back at Guy. He strides past you and over to Jack.

‘’Sweetheart,’’ he calls. Jack looks up and quickly hops to his feet, grinning. Guy smiles. ‘’I brought you lunch.’’

‘’Oh! I forgo’ i’?’’ he tilts his head at Guy as he walks closer. He nods.

‘’Yes you did, you silly thing.’’ he replies, holding out the lunchbox. Sam runs away from Jack’s side and toward you.

‘’Mama! Look!’’ they call. You look down and see Sam is holding the biggest most colourful lollipop you’ve ever seen. That’s definitely more sugar than you’d ever allow but- well, too late now. You smile a bit as they run over and stop at your feet, holding the lollipop up excitedly. You laugh a bit and pat their head.

‘’Sam’s your kiddo?’’ Jack says. You look up in surprise.

‘’Yes?’’ you frown. He blinks in surprise.

‘’I though’ they wuz ye’re siblin’!’’ he replies. ‘’Ye look so young!’’ Guy shoots him a stern look. You break into a smile, then some soft laughs.

‘’Well thank you!’’ you exclaim. ‘’Not often someone good looking tells me that.’’ you add with a grin. You really hope the slight flirt doesn’t annoy Guy. Jack blinks, then his cheeks flush pink. Guy glances at him and smirks a bit before looking at you again.

‘’Admittedly I thought that too-’’ he says. He tilts his head at you. ‘’Are you...raising them alone?’’

You nod. ‘’Yeah- the uh- other guy didn’t wanna be a parent, things didn’t work out…’’ you look down at Sam and ruffle their hair. ‘’So it’s just us. But I wouldn’t have it any other way, right Sam?’’

Sam nods and smiles a bit. You look back up at the two men. Guy smiles softly. ‘’That’s very sweet…’’ he murmurs. Jack gives him an odd look you can’t really decipher before looking at you again. His eyes dart to Guy a second time and he smiles a small bit, like he knows something you don’t. Huh. ‘’You know, me and Jack have children too. Of course you’ve already met Sally and Slendra...and Jeffery, haha- but if you ever want Sam to have some children to spend time with, we’d be happy to arrange something! And the three of us could get some coffee or something like that while they play.’’

Jack smirks a bit. ‘’E’s always tryna ge’ th’ kiddos ta make more friends. Don’t mind ‘im.’’

‘’Jack!’’

You laugh. ‘’I’d love that, actually.’’ you tilt your head and smile at him. ‘’How about...Friday?’’

Guy brightens up, clasping his hands together. ‘’Friday is perfect! I’ll bring Sally and Slendra along, will I?’’

You nod. ‘’That’d be great.’’ you look down at Sam and smile. ‘’You wanna make some new friends, sweetie?’’

Sam rocks on their heels. ‘’Will Jack be there?’’ they ask softly. You and Jack both snicker and you give a nod.

‘’Yes, yes he will.’’ you murmur with a very satisfied smile.

#i keep writing y/n as either a massive flirt or a massive simp smh #ask #zilia1938 #slenderman #slenjack #laughing jack #writing #request #writing requests #creepypasta #creepypasta fanfic #creepypasta fanfiction #poly slenjack #slenderman x reader #laughing jack x reader #creepypasta x reader

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5-falsehoods-phonated · 4 years ago

Text

March Ado About Nothing

Series Summary - A series of one-shots and drabbles written based off of prompts posted in the TSS Fanworks Collective server. The goal is to take traditional whump prompts and fill them in the least-angsty way possible every day through March.

A note that though some of these fills are written bait and switch style (written in a way you think is going in one direction but reveals it to be the opposite towards the end) they are all written in a fluffy or silly style with very little, if any at all, actual angst.

Day 7: To Make the Broken New

Summary: After much begging from Roman and Virgil, Logan and Patton decide to make fixing up the old treehouse they find one day into a summer project.

Prompts: Burned, *Broken Down*, Blackmail

Ships: Dad Patton to kid Virgil. Dad Logan to kid Roman. Platonic Logan & Patton. Platonic Roman & Virgil.

Warnings: none. Let me know if there are more!

General taglist (ask to be added or removed): @/janus-is-an-adorable-snek-boi @/im-an-anxious-wreck (in an effort to not flood your inboxes I’m only tagging in the first part ^-^)

WC: 881

“You sure you got that kiddo?”

“Mhm.” Virgil stuck out his tongue in concentration as he hugged the paint can tighter to his chest and carefully walked around bumps in the lawn and fallen sticks that might trip him up. They could just hear hammering the distance and Patton readjusted the two cans he was carrying so the metal handles didn’t dig too much into his skin. They still had a little ways to go before they made it to the long forgotten treehouse that sat broken down and lonely about a quarter mile into the woods behind him and his neighbors backyard. They were quite friendly with each other and loved talking their kids out to play and explore, using wildlife as mini lessons that all of them could enjoy. One of these outings had them stumbling on the wreck as they had been following a shallow creek to see where it ended up- or in Virgil and Roman’s case to see how many frogs they could catch before they got back home. After much pleading from the boys and a quick visit to the people in the area to see if anyone actually owned the thing, he and Logan finally relented and began saving up little by little to fix up the old house to make it a safe new spot to play in.

Logan and Roman should be just about done fixing the new ladder boards to the tree by the time Patton and Virgil would get there with the paint- a striking red and purple the boys had picked out themselves to color and waterproof the outside. Logan wasn’t sure how well the colors would actually work together and the house would surely stick out like a sore thumb amidst the blooming green wildlife around it but as long as it made the boys happy they both agreed it was probably fine. He smiled down at Virgil as the stubborn six year old stomped confidently with the paint can still held firm in his arms. He was glad moving here had turned out so well for Virgil. He didn’t struggle to make friends at his old home he was just never interested in it- something that Patton had struggled to let go of his worry for since he seemed perfectly content and happy on his own. But once they had moved here and he had met Roman he had come out of his shell completely as they hit it off right away, and Roman’s father Logan being fine company himself made moving to a completely different state that much easier for both of them.

“Be careful!” Virgil had started walking a bit faster as the house came into view. Roman was searching diligently for any stray nails at the base of the tree while Logan was putting his tools away and grabbing out the painting supplies from the box he had carried up earlier that morning. Patton truly didn’t know how to thank the other man enough for everything he did with and for them- from helping them move in and accepting Patton’s admittedly awkward attempts to pay him back with dinner and breakfasts to offering to let Patton and Virgil join him and Roman when they went on their adventures as the latter dubbed them.

“Roman! Dad got paint!” Virgil stumble ran the rest of the way, stopping just before the tree and crouching down to carefully set the paint can down next to the twisted roots. Clapping his hands excitedly Roman grabbed up a couple of paint brushes and bradished them like duel swords, casting a glance at Logan to make sure it was okay before striking a princely stance in front of his friend.

“We’re gonna have the best house on the block and everybodies gonna be so jealous we’ll have to find a dragon to guard us from burgers!”

“Patton snorted as Logan turned around and handed Roman a paint tin before reaching to open the can. “Burglars, Roman. You eat burgers.”

“I don’t eat people!” Roan squealed in distaste, making Logan shut his eyes for a moment before shaking his head as his son quickly jumped to a different topic, energetically talking Virgil’s ear off to the delight of the quieter child.

Patton crouched next to Logan and started separating the pans to pour the paint into, smiling at his tired but amused expression. “Thank you again for doing this, you know they’ll have a blast every time we come up here. We could even try and plant some flowers; I think Roman especially would enjoy that.”

Logan nodded. “It’s been nice for both of us to have the company. I appreciate just as much.”

Patton amiled wider and nudged his shoulder gently against Logan’s, earning an eye roll and a small nudge back as the paint was poured and a warning to be careful given to the boys before they got paint all over themselves within the first five minutes. Neither of them had expected anything less, exchanging signature parent looks with each other and simply shaking their heads. They were smiling and laughing and scaring away any animal within a ten mile radius, and neither of them could ask for anything better at the height of their first summer together.

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#false wwrites #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #kid roman sanders #kid virgil sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #dad logan sanders #patton sanders #dad patton sanders #march ado about nothing

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peter-parkourwrites · 5 years ago

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Being Peter’s girlfriend and meeting the team pt. 2

- OKAY SO

- You’d often go with Peter after school when he went to the tower

- nat and wanda would find you immediately

- they’d drag you into the kitchen, shoving wanda’s baked goods at you

- Peter would be dragged away by Tony

- but before he’d leave he’d give you a short kiss which involved everyone in the room either aweing or fake gagging

- ThEN BUCKY STEVE AND SAM WOULD WALK IN

- and they’d ask how the relationship is going and joke if you needed an ‘out’

- you’d scoff and punch Sam in the arm, while glaring at Bucky

- “LADY (Y/N) YOURE BACK!”

- “Thor!!”

- basically he’d pick you up in a big hug and spin you around

- Peter got lowkey jealous AGAIN

- but you’d walk over and wrap your arms around him pushing your nose into his cheek to get him to laugh

- “HEY HEY HEY THOR lemme uhhhh try and lift mjolnir challenge”

- “babe no-”

- “shut up spider boy”

- “that was harsh, better luck next time Pete,” Tony would chuckle and pat his back

- “Lady (Y/N)-”

- “Zip it.” You’d snap

- walking up to mjolnir you shake out any nerves

- “Doll are you sure?”

- “Bucky shut up she’s got this!” Peter would snap

- basically hi yah u grab it and it moves so slightly

- You pout thinking you didn’t do it

- Peter’s jaw drops bc he caught on to it and thor shakes his head

- “Maybe next time kiddo,” Tony says as he brings his arm around your shoulders and walks you and Peter down to his lab

- working on Peters suit w/ tony and making gadgets

- “Okay so we need to add more pressure so the web can be longer when it shoots out- oh hey Pete.”

- Peter just stares, bc this is the first time he’s seen you in the lab

- “W-What a-are... how?”

- “She’s like a mini Pepper, she’s a keeper kiddo.” Tony winks and Peter immediately blushes red like a fire truck

- Teaching Bucky and Steve about memes

- “Ready okay now throw me the soda can, and thats a yeet”

- “Okay but what does yeet mean?”

- “STEVE NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR QUESTIONS IM TRYING TO YEET”

- now they use it at the worst possible times

- Peter told you about how one time Bucky wanted Steve to ‘yeet his shield’ towards him

- Steve did it

- Babysitting Morgan with Peter

- “Auntie (Y/N) Uncle Pete!!”

- Peter and Morgan jumping around the house with lightsabers as you try to finish homework

- Peter collapsing on top of you as Morgan sprawls out on the couch next to you

- “Awe my babies, are you two tired?”

- a mumbled ‘yes’ from both of them

- Cuddling with Peter on the couch when Morgan goes to bed finally

- Him softly humming as you run your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp as the TV plays in the background

- him occasionally bubbling with laughter at a joke on TV

- Falling asleep at the tower on the couch in his arms

- you wake up the next morning to giggling

- Wanda is trying to get everyone to shut up so you and Peter can sleep

- Bucky, Sam, and Tony are trying to get pictures

- Steve is uhhhh protective uncle mode lowkey

- “What are they doing?? Is this okay? Are we sure they’re old enough to fondue?”

- “Steve shut up they’re cuddling” Nat would smack his forearm

- “Shut up or you’ll wake her” Peter would grumble and cuddle further into your chest

- “Already awake bub...” You grumble and kiss his forehead

- He’d pout until you gave him a kiss on the lips

- He’s hum into it and you felt his whole body relax

- which was a nice contrast from quick and rushed kisses before he went out on patrol or missions

- Trying to get up but Peter not moving

- “Steve made chocolate chip pancakes, and i swear to god Parker if I miss them because you won’t get off i’m gonna-”

- He’d scramble off you and move towards the kitchen

- You follow after him and plop down next to Natasha

- So basically you join in on meals

- The team LOVES making food when you come over

- not a single take out dish is in sight when you come over

- they all want to impress you

- Tony trying to get you to pick who’s your favorite

- they’re always arguing about it

- Carol coming back from space and you two having a blast talkings about anything and everything

- teasing Peter with her

- “Hey hey Pete, doc oc robbed a bank this morning.”

- “HE WHAT?!?!”

- “Yeah he was, well armed”

- Peter just groans and walks away

- “PETE!”

- “WHAT?!”

- “Whats spider-man’s favorite month?”

- long siGHHHH from Peter

- “I don’t know babe... what is it?”

- “WEB-RUARY!”

- *highfives carol*

- Always begging the team to let you join

- “no”

- “dont even think about it”

- “maybe.”

- “TONY!”

- “ugh,, sorry kid but its a no”

- PETER SURPRISING YOU BY ACTUALLY TAKING YOU ON A SINGLE MISSION FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY

- butttt they made Bucky stay in the jet with you and Happy

- which makes for a cranky super solider

- so you convince him to break out w/ you

- Happy goes apeshit

- but its fine bc you help Bucky take out a hydra agent or two bc thanks to Nat you know how to shoot a gun

- cheering and accidentally firing the gun at the ceiling

- “uh... whoops??”

- OKAY BUT THEN FUCKIN SHIT GOES DOWN AND U NEED TO DO SOMETHING BC ITS JUST BAD

- so ahEm deep breath

- u summon mjolnir

- AND HELP KICK ASS AND ITS JUST A WHOLETHING AND PETERS CRYING

- UR CRYING

- THOR IS CRYING, AND ITS JUST WOW A MESS

- “I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT!!”

- “PETER IM SO EXCITED I COULD THROW UP”

- “yeah lets not do that”

- BASICALLY GETTING ANOTHER FAMILY AND AN ADORABLE AND LOVING BOYFRIEND AND HAVING A BLAST W/ THE AVENGERS

#avengers x reader #natasha romanoff #peter parker #steve rogers #boyfriend peter parker #bucky barnes #peter parker x reader #tony stark #avengers x teen!reader #thor x teen! reader #platonic avengers #mcu #marvel writing #marvel

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stormcrawler75 · 6 years ago

Note

For the Hero/villain ideas: Patton as a villain who is always willing to watch out for young heroes (capture instead of kill, give them snacks, etc.)

This is part 1! Here’s Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Virgil groaned as he woke up. His head was pounding and it felt like he had been run over by a truck. Several times. Virgil tried to move his hands up from his sides to cup his head but his hands only twitched in response. He forced his eyes open and looked down at himself. He was covered head to toe in bandages and was lying down on a large bed. He raised to his head.

His stomach dropped. This wasn’t his room.

That was when the memory from the night before hit him. He had been called by one of the older heroes, The Prince, to help out with a group of thugs that The Prince thought had been hired by one of the city’s villains. He had asked Virgil to take care of them while he went after the villain himself.

Virgil had agreed. Even though he never handled the big name villains like the Prince, usually going after things that the big heroes didn’t have time for, but he wasn’t about to let these thugs walk around his neighbourhood and do whatever they wanted.

He had thought that everything was going fine. It was a small group of people unloading boxes from vans. Virgil had recognized the logos on the boxes as Dr. Logic’s. A man that had a history of selling to villains. He hadn’t hesitated to attack. It had been an easy fight, Virgil disarming the grunts easily and knocking them out. But it had been a setup. The first box he had opened up had released a violent electric shock up his body that had sent Virgil to the ground. He didn’t remember anything else after that.

Whoever had been brought those boxes had known that a hero would be coming to stop them. And had decided to keep Virgil as a little prize.

Panic started to set in. What were they going to do to him? His mask was gone so they probably knew who he was and his powers weren’t responding. This was a nightmare.

Virgil had heard stories about villains did to heroes, had seen some of the Prince’s scars. He hadn’t thought he’d ever had to deal with that sort of thing. Virgil didn’t deal with villains, he dealt with street crimes. He never thought that a villain would be coming after him. He never should’ve taken this job, he was going to be killed, tortured, picked apart piece by piece.

A whimper escaped Virgil when he heard a door creak open. He tried to steel himself for what he knew was coming next. He had to be strong, he had to be strong. Prince would come for him, he would. He just needed to hold out until then.

He looked around the room desperately for something that he could use to fight back but there was nothing. It was an empty room with only the bed Virgil was on, another door that had to hold something terrible in it, and a chair beside it to fill it. He tried to sit up but his muscles barely twitched. Had he been drugged?

The door swung open and Virgil shrunk back into his bed. Be brave, be brave, be brave.

A man, short built with blond curly hair walked in with a covered tray in his hands. He was wearing khakis pants and a blue polo shirt with a grey sweater tied around his shoulders. He looked over at Virgil and smiled happily when he saw Virgil looking back at him. “You’re awake! Good morning, Shadow!”

Virgil clenched his jaw and stared defiantly back at him. He went through the list of villains in his head and tried to match this man to one of them but no one stood out in his mind as this man. Maybe another member of the villain’s crew?

“I’m glad you’re awake,” the man sighed. “I’m so sorry that this happened. I thought that it was going to be The Prince who would be going after my crew, not you. I should’ve known better than to think that, especially since you tend to look out for that side of the city.” He kicked the door closed behind him and set the tray down on the tray.

“What’d you do to me?” Virgil asked. He cursed himself when he heard the waver in his voice, something that the man had picked up on, no doubt.

The man smiled at him reassuringly. “Just a shot that’ll keep you from moving for a while. I couldn’t have you running around my home, now could I, kiddo?”

Virgil tensed up when the man walked over to the closet and start rummaging inside. He glanced over to the tray on the chair and tried to imagine what could be under it. What was this man going to do to him?”

The man turned around with a pile of blankets, something that made Virgil blink in confusion. He watched as the man laid blanket after blanket over him, tucking him in as he went.

“My name’s Patton, by the way,” the man, Patton, chirped. “You’re gonna be here for a few days so I thought that I should tell you. It was going to get really awkward really quickly if I hadn’t. I wouldn’t want you to not know what to call me. So you can call me Patton, or whatever makes you comfortable.”

Virgil asked hesitantly, “And what does your boss call you?”

Patton paused in his task and stared at Virgil. Slowly, a smile grew on his lips and a bubbly laugh came out of him. “Oh, oh kiddo!” He shook his head in amusement. “I think you got me mistaken for someone else. I know that I don’t get out much and there aren’t many pictures taken of me so maybe I shouldn’t be surprised that you don’t know you I am.”

He leaned over and brushed Virgil’s bangs out of his eyes. “I think you’ll know the name ‘Heart’ better than Patton.”

Virgil’s breath hitched. Oh fuck. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.

It wasn’t his luck that he had been caught by a bad guy. He had to be caught by the bad guy. The big one.

Heart was known by everyone. He was an Empath and one of the villains that every Hero knew to be on the lookout for. He was the villain that seemed to have a hand in everything that happened in the city. The real-life boogieman parents warned their kids about.

And now Virgil was his prisoner.

“No need to be scared, kiddo,” Patton cooed. “I know I have a bit of a reputation among Heroes but I’d never hurt a young one. You’re only fourteen, aren’t you?”

“How do you know that?” Virgil asked, fear rising. He was trembling, shaking now. Any chance of staying strong was slipping through his fingers and he wasn’t sure that he’d be able to handle it if Patton started anything.

“I did some digging when my crew brought you in!” Patton sat on the edge of his bed and patted his limp hand. “Virgil Shae, fourteen years old, lives at the city’s Orphanage and is a freshman in High School. You got some cool powers there, kiddo, they’re really something else. You do great work with them!” He leaned over to the tray and uncovered it, placing the dome on the floor. On the tray, was a plate of orange slices and a cup of apple juice with a bendy straw bobbing inside.

Confusion replaced his fear and Virgil could only stare at the plate in bemusement. Was the juice laced with something? Was Patton just playing with him? “What are you playing at?” He asked with an edge in his voice. “When are you going to drop this act and start it?”

“It?” Patton cocked his head. “Kiddo, I think you’re confused. I’m not going to hurt you. You’re just gonna stay here for a few days while I wait for Prince to show his head.” He picked up an orange slice and popped it in his mouth. “I took another young Hero a few months ago. He was poking around one of my operations. I think his name’s Sleep. Did I hurt him?”

Virgil thought back to the story that Sleep had told him about his brief time as a prisoner of Heart. He hadn’t been hurt at all. Kept in a room with plenty of books and a Gameboy to keep him entertained. A minion would give him a plate of food every few hours and he was released after a few days. Sleep didn’t say much about it but was insistent on the fact that Heart had never touched him. Not once. He shook his head.

“See! I promise you’re safe.” Patton grinned and held an orange slice to Virgil’s lips. “Now, you haven’t eaten for a whole day now and you need to get something in your stomach. Eat.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m telling you, Prince,” Virgil said in a bored voice. “No matter how many times you ask, the answer won’t change. He didn’t hurt me. I was drugged up for a few hours and I wasn’t able to move much or use my powers. The muscle thing wore off though and I was fine. I was given food and wasn’t touched.” He shrugged. “Heart gave me a DS to play around with.”

“What?!” Sleep crossed his arms petulantly. He was sitting on the edge of roof him, Virgil, and The Prince was standing on. Virgil was sitting a few meters away from him and Prince was pacing between them anxiously. “That just ain’t fair, gurl. He only gave me a Gameboy.”

“Sucks to be you,” Virgil drawled. Remy flipped him the bird in reply.

Prince stepped between them. “That’s enough. Now, are you sure he didn’t hurt you, Vee? You said he knew your name?”

Virgil nodded. “Yeah, knew a lot about me. Knew where I live too.”

Prince sighed and shook his head. “That’s not good. He has both of your names now. Okay, I’m not taking any risks. I let you go back home, Rem, but now? You’re both relocating to my HQ. We need to keep you both safe. We might have to get you guys new IDs. This is such a mess.”

“He’s not that bad,” Virgil shrugged. “He seemed to like us, at least.”

Remy nodded. “Maybe he just doesn’t like you, Princey.”

Prince gasped dramatically and clasped his hands to his chest. “Everyone likes me! Heart just doesn’t appreciate my witty banter, that’s all!”

Virgil rolled his eyes and stood up. “Whatever, Princey. Now, are you gonna show us our new digs or not? I’m hungry. Patton might be nice but he didn’t give me many snacks except for orange slices.”

Remy grinned at him. “Sucks to be you. He gave me some pineapple.”

“What?! Lucky jerk!”

Taglist undercut

General Taglist

@punsterterry

@iris-sanders-athena

@heck-im-lost

@sanders-trash-4ever

@tiredfluid

@sevenatee

@i-really-dig-the-purple

@detroit-become-pan

@trust-me-i-just-get-weirder

@radioactivehelena

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@amazonprimebox

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@eli-galaxy

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@sanderssmosh-n-musicals

@cookiethedevil

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@figurative-falsehood

@crookedlyoptimisticdestiny

@ao-koshka

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@alsoyouremischievous

@figurative-falsehood

@mrtacothethird

@analogical-mess

@combine-the-kitchens

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@ladyonce

@penguinpatty1502

@analogical-mess

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@liz-a-bell

@imjustawibba

@remy-alagaesias-dragon-queen

@fandoms-winkitywonk

@therubyjailcell

@idont-know-what-im-doing

@angels-and-dreams

@europa-bear

@pumpkinminette

@viva-la-pluto-dam-you

@ravens-rambling

@felicianoromano

@artemispowell

@phander-trash

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@the-anti-virgil

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@omg-rainbowgalxy-things

@chemically-imbalanced-romance

@just-another-rainbowblog

@asymmetricalgarbage8888

@imtooaromaticforthis

@ambersky0319

#tw swearing #torture mention

707 notes · View notes

strawberry-jammers · 3 years ago

Text

A Child to Protect (pt 5)

tommy x child!reader || Confronting an old friend

tommy comes home to tubbo and ranboo waiting in the living room for...something.

pt1 pt 2 pt3 pt4

masterlist

sorry this took awhile, i was having some struggles lmao. its not the best but the next few parts will hopefully be good lol

word count: 3215

ask if you wanna be tagged for this seires lmao

~~~~~~~~~

Techno sat in the main part of the room with ranboo and tubbo. They stared at each other awkwardly. Honestly tubbo didn't expect to be in the piglins home today, especially after what had happened. Ranboo shuffled in his seat, uncomfortable with the tension in the air. They saw techno almost glare at tubbo, while the goat in turn decided to glare back.

“Um, are you two okay?” ranboo asked the two of them. Techno nodded, not saying a word, as usual. He was just waiting for Tommy to get there to change the focus or something. Tubbo didn't do anything to acknowledge the question, just glaring at the piglin. “Okay, this is awkward." The enderman whispers to themself. "Techno, hows living in the tundra?” techno looks at ranboo with a blank face, tired of having these two here. “cold.” ranboo nodded. ‘Cold’ not being the answer they were looking for. “Oookay. Tubbo, do you like the tundra at all?'' Tubbo shook his head, having a stare down with the piglin, who had gone back to glaring at the hybrid. “No.”

Ranboo sighed, slinking down into the chair. “You guys are helpless…” ranboo says, sighing tiredly. Just then, there was a knock on the door. Techno jumped up from his seat and looked out the window to see who it was. He smiled, opening the door to the mystery guest. “Finally you're here. Now they can focus their attention on you instead. Good luck with that.” techno says. He moved to reveal Tommy, carrying his kid with him.

Tubbo and ranboo stood up, shocked to see their supposed deceased friend, standing in the doorway holding a child. Ranboo walked over cautiously. “Tommy?” he asked. Tommy looked up at the tall enderman. He nodded, holding the young kid tightly. He really didn't wanna be there, but he knew his kid needed to be back here.

(y/n) looked up at the enderman hybrid, smiling brightly. “Endy endy!!” they said. Ranboo looked down at them, confused a bit. “Whos this?” they asked the young boy. The kid continued to say ‘endy’ while the two of them talked.

Tommy sighed. “This is my kid..(y/n)” he says, looking at the young child. Ranboo looks at the small child, who smiled at them happily. “Endy!!” they said once more. “No no (y/n), this is ranboo. The good man i told you about.” (y/n) smiled even wider. “Ran ran!!!! Papa told me about you!!!! Good man, good man!!” they said.

The child's presence lifted the awkward atmosphere that once resided in the room. (y/n) smiled at the enderman, who was nearly in tears from the fact tommy was alive and well, raising a child at that. Ranboo immediately hugged two of them, scarring tommy. “Aye aye get off!” tommy said, not knowing how else to respond. “Sorry sorry, i'm just really happy your alive.” tommy looked at ranboo, gapping his mouth. “Dead!? Why would you think that???” tommy asked. Ranboo smiled awkwardly. “Well…” “tommy?” the two of them turned their head to see their part goat friend, who had finally spoken up.

“Tubbo..” tommy says, stepping around ranboo to see his old friend. “Ranboo take (y/n).” tommy instructs. Ranboo nodes, taking the small child, who wasn't too happy to leave their father.

Tommy walks closer to his old friend, who was shocked to see him, barely able to say anything. “Y-your alive!! I thought you died-``Tubbo couldn't continue his sentence. He missed his old friend, and was really happy to see him! He just felt terrible for sending him to his near death…even if it was the only option he had.

Techno and ranboo went outside, leaving the two of them alone (though techno tried to leave several times). (y/n) was sad they couldn't play with their father, but they did have a new friend, who was really nice.

“Is papa okay?” the young one asked. “Yeah I think he's gonna be fine..wanna play in the snow?” ranboo asked the kid. They nodded, being set down and running into the snow. The enderman chuckled, watching them pick themselves back up and falling again. The enderman did notice, however, the many snowmen that littered the lawn. Some looked like people they knew, one even looked like them. they smiled, seeing the young child show off the one they made of their father.

Back in the house, Tommy and tubbo stood in the middle of the home, staring at each other intensely.

"So...you're alive? Living with techno?" Tubbo asks, breaking the heavy silence. "Why would you think I'd be dead??" Tubbo looked down a bit. "Well, everything was destroyed and...there was a tower I- I thought you…." Tubbo trails off before finishing. “Oh, that..” Tommy looked down a bit, frowning. “Why'd you do it? Why'd you send me away to isolation? `` Tubbo frowns, tilting his head. “It wasn't supposed to be isolation. I-i thought you just chose to live there..”

Tommy went over and sat down, sighing. “I really dont wanna talk about this. Can you just tell ranboo to bring (y/n) in here..” tubbo shook his head. “I feel like we need to talk about this, I mean you've been gone for months! You have a kid! What happened?” tommy glared at tubbo. “I told you i dont wanna talk about it, just drop it.” he says, getting up again and heading to the front door. “No! We’re talking about this.” Tubbo goes over and grabs Tommy's arm. He yanks it away from him. “I told you I'm not talking about it! Fucking drop it already!” tubbo let go, stepping back slightly.

“Why won't you talk to me? We’re best friends-”

“We haven't been friends since the exile, since one of your men came here and nearly killed my child! The only reason i wasn't here was cause that lunatic tried to attack me!” tubbo shook his head. “I'm not the one that sent him here-”

“Then explain to me why you're here!”

the yelling started to get louder, leaving the young child to be concerned. They looked up at ranboo, who was silently screaming cause of the snow. “Ran ran are you sure papas okay? There's a lot of yelling..” ranboo looked over to the house, noticing the yelling as well. “I-im not sure, but we shouldn't interrupt them…” (y/n) looked over to the house, really wanting to see their father. They gasped, remembering a way they could get inside.

“Ran ran!! Follow follow!!” they say, pulling on the endermans pant leg. Ranboo sighed, following the small child to wherever they were gonna bring him. “I'll just stay here!” techno says, laying in the snow.

They, basically waddled, to the back of the house. Ranboo looked around, not really seeing anything. “What did you wanna show me?” they asked. (y/n) looked up at ranboo, pointing to the wall. “Break.” they stood, a bit confused. “You want me to take some of the wall?” the kid nodded, pointing to the wall. “Enderman do the same! Just break.” they nodded, kinda understanding what they were asking. They didnt know if the other two would notice, but they normally break blocks pretty silently anyways.

Ranboo looked at the wall, seeing where the chests would be and where the fireplace was, and broke one of the blocks. They looked in between the chests to see that the others were still arguing and hadn't noticed them. (y/n) pulled on the hybrids pant leg, signaling for them to pick them up to see. Ranboo does so, gesturing for them to be quiet.

Back with the other two, they were having a heated argument. Discussing quackity and his actions, discussing Tommy and his exile, along with bringing up the past such as wilbur and old lmanburg.

“Well I'm sorry we decided to even form the country! Y'know, we all wanted to find independence!” tubbo says, snapping at tommy.

“It's not that! Its new lmanburg, its lost all meaning!! One of your men, whent and tried to kill techno and I! You said you didn't even send him here!! “

“Why do you keep saying ‘your men’, you know this is also your country right?”

Tommy glares at Tubbo, stepping away from him. “It hasn't been my country, for a long time. Not sense schlatt took over.'' Tommy looks over, avoiding tubbos' gaze. “Technos gonna destroy the country, and I won't stop him. I know how he is, he's gonna want it gone. Maybe once it is gone, we can start over, not with a country but with a place we could just...live. Together, all of us..'' Tommy says, looking back at tubbo. “You want lmanburg gone? After all we've done!? After what we lost to gain independence!!??'' Tommy nodded. “Lmanburg is more the people than the land. If we’re all together, it'll be the same. The same old lmanburg.”

Tubbo sighs, still angry at the blond before him. “You gave dream the discs for this place, you gave him the one thing we had! Now you wanna get rid of the country we traded it for?”

“Well, who said we werent gonna get them back?” tommy steps forward again. “You have one of them right?” tubbo nodded, staring at the enderchest in the room. “We already have half of what we need, all we need to do is get the last one. You prepared to lose lmanburg to get them back?” tommy asked. Tubbo contemplated for a second. “No, I'm not. But…"

The two of them talked, no longer upset at the other. They were best friends for years, it's hard to stay mad at each other. Ranboo and (y/n) looked at each other, confused as to how they had just calmed down after such a heated argument. (y/n) ran back over to the front of the house, ranboo running after them. “No no, (y/n) come back please!” (y/n) didn't listen, instead running to the front of the house and trying to open the door. It was left ajar, so it was easy to do so.

“Dad!!” the young kid said, rushing over towards their father. Tommy looked over to see his kid run over towards him. He smiled as they ran into his legs. He picks them up. "Hey kiddo, whatcha doing back here? Weren't you playing outside playing with ranboo?" They nodded. "Yeah but I was worried!! There was yelling…" Tommy sighs, ruffling the young kids' hair. "I'm okay lil (n/n), everythings alright. Big man Tommy was just talking to tubbo." They looked over to the boy in question, who awkwardly stood there.

"I think I should get going. Don't wanna make things worse.” (y/n) looked at the goat hybrid and frowned. They pushed their way out of tommys arms, landing on the floor with a huff. Everyone just stared at the young kid as they picked themself up and ran into the goats legs. “Tub don't go! You just got here…” tubbo smiled a bit, leaning down to be eye to eye as (y/n). “I don't think I should stick around. Maybe I'll see you again..” they hugged tubbo, repeating for him not to leave.

Ranboo picked up the small child, who did not wanna be picked up. “He needs to leave (n/n). Don't worry, you'll see him again.” they huff, nodding. Ranboo chuckled at this.

Tubbo stood back up looking at tommy once more. “Goodbye tommy. I hope your happy.” with that, tubbo left, leaving ranboo and tommy behind. Tubbo passed by techno as he left, noticing how he was just sitting in front of the door. “Why are you sitting out here?” techno looked up at the male. “Idk mr.government, maybe because i got kicked out of my own home. Again.” tubbo sighed, opting to just ignore the piglin and continue on his way to lmanburg.

Ranboo looked over at Tommy, who seemed to be processing a lot of emotions. Tommy looked over and ranboo and (y/n), smiling a bit before sitting down in one of the few chairs in the room.

“I really don't like that kid. I don't know why he bothered to come here.” technoblade says, closing the front door that had started to let snow in. He went over to brew some potions, as he needed to go to lmanburg the next day. Ranboo sighed, letting (y/n) out of their arms. They shifted slightly. (y/n) went over to sit with Tommy, who held them tightly. “Um, i think i should leave as well, don't wanna overstay my welcome.” technoblade chuckled a bit. “You don't have to leave, kid. I think you should stay for at least dinner. If you want.” tommy nodded, not really wanting the enderman to leave.

“Oh, well thank you techno, tommy.'' Just then, the door swung open, letting in even more cold air than there already was. They all turned to see philza, who looked like he had just ran here. “What the FUCK happend in lmanburg??” techno looked at Phil a bit confused. “Oh the quackity thing?”

Philza walked in, closing the door. “Yeah but also, why the hell is fundy and quackity dead and WHY IS THE PLACE ON FIRE?? Techno i told you not to do this high level of terrorism yet.” techno looked confused, stopping his potion brewing. “I didn't set the place on fire? I did kill those two tho, they did not fight back. Well, quackity did but he sucks at it.”

“Wait then who set the place on fire?” phil asked, no longer upset. “Oh i did.” they turned to ranboo, who raised their hand up slightly. “What?”

“All i did was set the place on fire as a diversion..”

“Mate the place is basically gone now..” philza said, sitting next to tommy. Ranboo chuckled. “Yeaaahh that wasn't the plan. I just wanted to create a diversion to get out of there..” techno chuckled. “Didn't notice that was you. Good job kid.” techno went back to his brewing, making a bunch of invis potions. “Dadza!” (y/n) said, now noticing the winged man who had sat next to them. They were too focused on tommys scarf. Phil chuckled, picking up the small child. “Hey kiddo. How has things been while i was gone?” tommy chuckled seeing the two of them talk. (y/n) talked about all the things they did in the time he was gone. Ranboo went over to help techno make potions, grabbing things he needed and such.

It was peaceful like this. Tommy phil and (y/n) all chatted amongst themselves, (y/n) on occasion playing with some random item in the house. When techno and ranboo were done with the potions, they joined the others in their conversation, all of them talking and cracking jokes amongst themselves. It was peaceful, there were no countries or wars, no dream, no trauma, none of that. It was just a couple of friends or family, talking and having fun.

Somewhere down the line, phil and techno whent to make dinner, sense it was awhile sense (y/n) or anyone had eaten any food. The 3 kids decided to play around with some swords tommy and techno had made. (y/n) chased the other two around, playfully trying to hit them whenever they got close. Ranboo dramatically died when (y/n) had stabbed them, while Tommy vowed revenge on the small child. He poked them with the sword, saying he had defeated the evil. (y/n) went into a fit of giggles, saying they could never die cause their immortal, and in turn stabbed tommy. He wanted to stubbornly try to beat them, but he thought it was more fun to go with it. Tommy dramatically dropped his sword and fell to the floor, pretending to be ‘dead’.

“Stop playing around, foods done.” techno said, entering the main part of the room. (y/n) jumped up, running into the kitchen, excited for food. Ranboo and Tommy got up from their laying positions, wanting to get some food as well.

So they ate, continuing to talk to each other as they did before. Ranboo felt a bit awkward being there, but overtime he felt more comfortable. Tommy talked to phil and techno, occasionally having to tell (y/n) to actually eat their food.

Once supper was over, phil has suggested that ranboo stays with tommy and (y/n) for the night, since it had already gotten dark out. Techno and ranboo both protested, granted for different reasons, though no one can fight philza. (y/n) was really giddy about this, running around their bedroom, knocking into the prime log a few times. Ranboo climbed down the latter, seeing this. Tommy was making sure they didn't run into the log again, not noticing the enderman.

“(y/n) you know it's time for bed.” Tommy says, grabbing his kid as they try to run away. “No! No sleep!” they tried to wrestle out of tommys arms, it obviously didn't work. “Yes, sleep. Your gonna get too tired to run soon anyways.`` He places them in their bed, trying to make them stay. Ranboo walks over, crouching down to see the kid better, they smiled when they saw the tall enderman. “Ran!!” they said, making the grabby hands at the tall enderman. They smiled, ruffling the kids hair. “(y/n) you need to sleep.” is all ranboo says, making (y/n) frown. “How bout this, i'll give you a cookie tomorrow if you sleep. Deal?” tommy asked. They nodded, laying down on their bed. They both laughed, tommy tucking them in for the night while ranboo stood up, not sure on what to do.

Tommy got up soon after, looking over at ranboo had just stood there. “You can sleep on my bed big man, I'll either make another one or just sleep on the floor.” Tommy says, going over to his chest in the corner, seeing if he had any left over wool. Ranboo shook their head. “No no, I can sleep on the floor, it's fine. This is your home after all.” tommy looked over at ranboo, glaring at him. “You will listen, bitch.” ranboo sighed. “Fine fine, I'm just saying..” ranboo walked over to the bed, sitting down on it, watching Tommy mess around with some wood and wool.

When Tommy was done, he put the bed in a random spot in the room. Tommy turned off the only light in the room, signalling that they were going to bed. Ranboo laid down, followed by tommy. They laid like that for a while, not really being able to sleep.

Ranboo looked over, sighing quietly to themself. “I'm sorry about the whole tubbo thing..it wasn't our plan to come here after what happened..”

“Its fine, it was bound to happen eventually. Thanks for staying with my kid for a bit,you didn't have to…” ranboo nodded. “It was no trouble, they seem to like me.” ranboo says, looking over to see the sleeping child next to them. “Well, still. Thank you ranboo. Your a good man.”

“So are you tommy..”

They sleep after that, finally being able to rest for the night.

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