#it has been SHOULD he do the thing he does and can he do it without actually doing more harm than good | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

beanarie · 2 days ago

Text

@bucktommywhumpweek day 5: numb, depression. this follows from previous parts. check on #my writing to catch up.

The surgeon looks closer to Buck's age than Tommy's. When he raises his hand, she steps right up to him and takes a seat so they're on the same level. Buck appreciates that. "Thomas was in the early stages of hypovolemic shock, but we found the bleed and repaired it in time to avoid a crisis. We'll be keeping a close eye. As of now, there's no sign of organ failure, and we don't expect this to change his prognosis."

"Which was?" Eddie asks, shattering the invisible barrier between them and her.

"Cautiously optimistic."

He asks another couple of questions that Buck does not absorb at all, but Eddie looks open and approving, indicating he likes what she said.

Buck swallows. "Can I see him?"

"It should be some time before he's out of recovery and settled back in ICU. I'll have one of the nurses find you here?"

Buck nods, not trusting his voice. His eyes follow her progress out of the room and he gets stuck on the display of pamphlets, his vision blurring, his ribs lined with thorns. He can't control his limbs. He's shaking all over.

"He's gonna be okay," Eddie says. He slides one arm across Buck's back and begins to pull him in.

Buck lifts his shoulders to his ears and pushes out with his elbows. "D-Don't touch me."

Eddie hasn't left. It doesn't make any sense, but Buck refuses to ask him again. Every once in a while, Eddie says something that hits his ear and dissipates like smoke, as though Buck's physiology has decided Eddie's got nothing to say worth listening to.

Buck's phone keeps ringing and ringing, at least every five minutes, until he finally thinks to power it down.

Shortly after Eddie's phone rings, he puts it in Buck's hand.

"Hi," Maddie says, with a relieved exhale. "I'm so sorry I can't be there, Bobby's still a little warm."

Buck chokes on a sob.

"Buck? Are you okay? Talk to me."

"Could you please call him something else? Anything else?"

"You know Athena started that. It helped her start to heal."

"Yeah," he says in a small voice.

"And now it's just his name. That's who he is to all of us."

"R-Right."

She hums thoughtfully. "You know, you can give him a nickname all your own. We're not Mom and Dad. He doesn't have to go by just one thing."

"Great idea. I'll use his middle name." Buck snaps his fingers. "Oh. Wait."

"Buck. You were there for the middle name wars. You saw how much trouble we had deciding. This was the best compromise."

"Five minutes after they put him in the ground, you r-replaced him c-completely."

"Please stop. Why are you being like this?"

"You weren't even close to Bobby. N-Not like I was. But I didn't get a say."

"We're talking about my son."

"Bobby was basically my dad!" Buck says, not realizing how loud he's being until the elderly couple nearby move to the other side of the room. "The one who actually wanted the job, who wanted me. I lost him and n-no one gives a shit."

Eddie is saying something again.

"Hey, Buck. I know you're having a rough time, but what the hell. Why is my wife crying? She's been fielding calls about you this whole time, making sure you're okay even though she can't be there, and this is how you thank her, by making her feel guilty about our baby's name? You're doing this now?"

Buck wrinkles his nose and gazes up at the buzzing lighting fixture. "You know what, Interim Captain Han. Don't talk to me for another... two- two months or so. It might m-mess up your promotion if you punch one of your firefighters while- while they're injured."

He ends the call and gives the phone back to Eddie. "Give that to me again a-and I'll smash it."

Hen stands before him with an old-fashioned thermos in red and black plaid. "It's not a cupcake. But yours are better than the bakery I usually get them from anyway."

"What is it," Buck asks, more because he feels like he should rather than out of curiosity.

"Cheddar-tomato soup. Karen perfected it during Covid. Little Miss Nia never gave us a hard time when this was on the menu. She used to try to steal Denny's bowl, actually."

"Okay." She holds it out, but he shakes his head. He had a granola bar today. Josh slipped it in his hand at some point. Maybe Eddie did, he can't remember.

She sits next to him. "Any news on Tommy?"

"W-What are you asking for," Buck says. "You don't like Tommy."

"Hey, Tommy and I were teammates for years and I only fantasized about shoving him into an open flame, like, twice. I like him fine." She crosses her legs at the knees, unbothered. "I simply got to see him at his worst and I wasn't sure he'd be good for you."

"Bobby said he was. In e-exactly those words."

"Hm," she says. "You've been thinking about Bobby a lot."

"I can't stop, and- and no one cares," he says, feeling stupid and tiny and young, but also weirdly okay about that. There's something cleansing about giving up the filter.

"Of course we care, Buck. You just can't expect us to care more than we do about our own shit. It's not realistic. People don't work like that."

"Sure," Buck says, nodding. "Here I go again, making it all about me."

"It's okay for things to be about you sometimes. Necessary, even." She bumps her shoulder against his. "I'm sorry we let you fall through the cracks. Honestly. It was not out of malice or lack of care. Just-"

"Me not being a priority."

"And bad luck slash bad timing. Maddie's baby, Chim surviving in Bobby's 'place', Eddie's... Eddie-ness. Who ever knows what that dickhead's problem is."

"Hey," Eddie says, half-heartedly.

Buck lays his head back and throws an arm across his eyes.

Hen squeezes his wrist. "We love you. Stop hurting yourself and let us help, okay? I'm genuinely worried. You don't look good."

The thorns along his ribs twist, bringing tears to his eyes. "I don't wanna stay on Eddie's couch."

"No one will make you sleep on a couch. You can take Denny's room if you want. He spends half his nights on Mara's floor anyway."

Buck meets her gaze. "R-Really?"

"You'd do it for me, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah, but- but you wouldn't need me to. You've got-"

She shrugs. "Why does that matter? You would. You did, in the beginning of lockdown."

"Oh, God," Maddie says, her face dipping into a sad, sympathetic frown as she rushes towards him.

Buck gives a start and hands the mostly empty cup of soup back to Hen. "Oh, I..."

"Shh." She occupies the seat Hen just vacated and takes his hands in her own. "Get over here." She pulls him in and he lets her, confused and ashamed under a thin layer of shock. "Has it really been hurting you all this time, every time we say his name?"

"No," he mumbles, letting his too long arms settle around her. "Not- Not every t-time."

"We didn't do it to replace Bobby," she says, low and urgent. "He died to keep our family going. He would've done that for any of you, but he did that for us. We honor him so we'll always remember and be grateful."

"I know. I- I know, Maddie."

She pulls away and kisses his forehead. "You feel warm, too," she says, with a watery sound of distress.

"Sleep deprivation sometimes does that," Hen says, motioning behind Buck. "Gimme your keys. We're gonna go pack you a bag. Then Eddie will bring you over mine after you see Tommy, okay? Eat some more soup or I'll get you."

Buck hands over his keys and waves them off.

Maddie turns his face to look at her. "Listen. If you're up at three am with bad dreams multiple nights in a row, you call me."

"I- I won't do that," he admits, resting his head on her shoulder. "I won't wake you up on purpose."

"Okay, we'll figure something else out, then." She curls her arm so she can stroke his hair. "Building your giant muscles until you sometimes, maybe pass out for a couple hours isn't cutting it."

Buck doesn't say anything. His eyes are stinging once more. He's missed her so much.

"You remember my glow worm doll?" she says and he makes a surprised noise.

"It lit up when you hugged it," Buck says softly. "You never let me hold it for more than f-five minutes."

"Because it was mine," she says, for the thousandth time. "He looked like that, a little bit, don't you think? When he was born?"

"Yeah, when he was swaddled up tight so it looked like he didn't have legs? He really did."

"We could call him Bug, you and me."

"Jee would want in on that action," Chim says.

#bucktommy #tevan fic #bucktommywhumpweek #my writing #things by beanarie

195 notes · View notes

criminalyapping · 23 hours ago

Text

due for trouble | you're mine

the pitt masterlist main masterlist

pairing: jack abbot x f!reader

a/n: i'm actually going to murder my keyboard i am so done with the extra letters and spaces you're gonna yell at me about the end but i'll pick up straight where this leaves off tomorrow :)

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, language, the girls are fighting!! he's big mad, they yell, etc. gets saucy near the end but no smut

< part 5 | part 7 coming soon!

Jack loves working on the night shift. He loves his coworkers, being able to watch the sun rise, and he loves the relative peace in his shift when compared to what he knows the day shift is like.

Lately, he's been thinking about the downsides, though.

When the baby is here, god, he's having a baby, but when it's here does that just mean that its your job to take care of it all night and then go to work all day? He can afford daycare no problem, but maybe he should look into nighttime nurse for you. He adds it to the mental list of things he needs to figure out.

There's approximately 4 million other things on his list as well.

It's another of his string og three days off, and he's seated on his couch trying to enjoy a movie that he put on. He'd much rather be with you, but you're out with your friends at some new country bar that popped up.

When you had first told him your plans for the night, he cringed. Thinking about the hot, sweaty environment you must be in, the opportunities for slips and falls on the sticky dance floor, and in his darkest thoughts, the possibility of you getting something put in your drink, regardless of if it was just water or a soda.

But be a controlling ass he will not, so he wished you and your friends a fun night and left it at that.

He's regretting that now as he looks at his phone and the message he got from your friend Emily. He scrambles for his reading glasses, slips them on, and inspects the text message thouroughly, trying to decipher it.

'miss girl fully eating with her fit'

She had sent along a photo as well, highlighting your cowgirl boots, your cute little sundress, and the intricate way that you had styled your hair for the evening. Jack, however, is focused on the tall cowboy character that you're talking to in the picture, smiling up at him as he looks down at you.

He puts his phone down, biting his lip and thinking about how hard he wants to take this. He's not taking it well overall.

'Do you guys need a ride home?'

He asks. It's about 11:30 now, so he would be able to get there at midnight, which he thinks is a perfect time to leave a country bar.

He's already up and changing out of his sweatpants before he gets a text back.

'uhhhh we were all going to get an uber home'

Emily had texted back.

Jack rolls his eyes.

'I'm on my way, be there in 30'

Jack has a white-knuckled grip on his steering wheel as he gets closer to the bar and finds a parking space.

He has to wait in line to get in and pay a $15 cover, which only sours his mood more. He's borderline seething as he enters, his eyes quickly scanning the open space.

He finally spies you, standing at the bar talking to someone.

Instead of being your friends, it's a tall, cowboy-hat wearing tool with a few too many buttons undone on his shirt.

He makes his way through the bar to you, and you don't even notice his presence until he has wormed his way into your conversation, standing directly in front of you.

Your eyes flick over, at first just preturbed about the man in your space, then your expression shifts to shock and a little bit of fear. The look on his face must be severe.

"Jack..." you trail off, "what are you doing here?" you ask.

"Emily texted me." he says, "I'm here to give you all a ride home." he says.

The man you've been talking to seems to think now is a good time to speak up.

"Hey, man, we're in the middle of talking," he argues.

"Not anymore," Jack says, grabbing your wrist and pulling you along with him as he turns to go.

"Jack," you start to argue as he sucessfully pulls you away from the man, deeper into the bar and looking for the other three.

"Not right now." he cuts you off harshly, not letting go of your wrist.

You trail behind him as he finds the other three, and goes to leave with the four of you trailing behind him like ducklings. You give Emily a severe look, pointedly looking down at your wrist caught in his grasp and back to her.

She looks a little guilty, but the look she shares with Jada afterwards tells you that they're enjoying this.

Jack unlocks hiis truck, opening the passenger door for you and then shutting it hard after you're seated.

As he climbs in the drivers side, he opens his phone and gives it to the backseat.

"Where am I going first?' he asks. Jada lives closest, so she types in her address and Jack pulls out of his parking space.

The car is silent, an unseen tension filling the air as he makes his way around the city dropping off your friends.

As Jack pulls up to his home, you scoff.

"What?" he asks in a monotone voice.

"Can you take me home, too? I thought that was where we were going." you ask snidely.

"No," he disagrees, "we're going to go in and we're going to talk." he tells you.

"Oh, are we?" you argue.

"Yeah," he says, getting out of the car and rounding to the other side, opening your door. "Come on," he urges.

You roll your eyes and clilmb out of the truck gingerly. Jack keeps a hand on yoour shouder like you're about to run away as you walk to his door.

As soon as his door is shut behind him, you lay into him.

"What the fuck was that?" you ask, not quite yelling but definitely close.

"I was trying to have a good time with my friends," you complain.

"Your friends? Your friends who were halfway across the bar while you flirted with some guy?" he spits.

"Oh, fuck off," you scoff.

"No, no tell me." he insists, "Tell me about how much fun you were having."

You roll your eyes again and turn away from him. He grabs your shoulders and angles you towards him. He's standing close enough that your head has to be tilted back to look at him.

He looks pissed. His eyes are wide, a red tinge covering his whole face and neck, and his intense look is focused soley on you.

"I told you," you start, measured, "that I was going out out of courtesy," you spit, "I can do what I want, and it was not okay for you to show up and ruin our night-" you're interrputed when Jack cuts you off.

"Ruin your night?" he repeats.

"Yeah, ruin our night!" now you really are yelling. "You show up, make us all go home, and for what? For what, Jack, so stake some kind of claim?" you yell. "You're not my boyfriend, Jack!" you yell.

Jack chuckles wryly, looking up at the ceiling for a moment.

"You know," he starts, crowding into your space again, grasping the tops of your arms. "I don't have to stake any claim," he tells you lowly. "I don't have to, because I already fucking did," he says, pressing you against the length of his body. "I didn't think I had to spell it out for you, but I will." he continues.

"You're mine," he says, and you open your mouth to argue, but he stops you before you can.

"And don't argue, okay? I'm telling you." he's all but whispering now, his face a few milimeters from yours as he speaks with an intensity that has your toes curling in your boots.

"You're mine," he repeats. "I'm not just around because of the baby, but it gives me a damn good excuse." he tells you. "Call me your boyfriend, or your baby daddy, I don't give a shit. You want to call me your fiance and I'll go get a ring right now," he growls. "But whatever you want to call it, you're all mine, and you need to get that through your head."

Despite being 100% sober, his words give you a floaty feeling in your heads as you struggle to put together a string of words, intoxicated by his presence.

"And I get no say in this?" you finally ask.

"I think," he starts, "that if you really wanted to put up a fight, that I wouldn't have even gotten you out of that bar, let alone into my house." he argues. "I think you just wanted to put up a fight and be a little brat."

You don't say anything, but look up into his eyes and keep your gaze locked there.

"Am I right?" he asks.

You roll your eyes and try to move away, only to be stopped by his renewed grasp on you, pulling you into him as he presses a kiss to your cheek.

"You wanna be mine, baby," he says into your cheek, "that's okay," he assures. He drags his lips down the side of your face and presses his lips to yours in a messy kiss.

His tongue plunges into your mouth annd tangles with yours, overpowering any attempt you make at turning the tides of the kiss. He wrenches his lips from yours and skims them down your neck, leaving licks and kisses and at least one bite, for good measure.

"Yeah, I do," you agree breathily as his mouth works on your collarbone.

"Yeah, you do," he parrots around your skin, "good girl," he sighs.

tagging: @michasia24 @veggieburgerwrites @bruher @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @catmomstyles3 @qardasngan @fuckalrighty @rae4725 @beebeechaos @thatssomebadhat89 @cari87 @livingdeadblondequeen @wowitsafemale @neonpurplestars89-blog

let me know if you want a tag!

#the pitt #the pitt imagine #the pitt x reader #dr abbot x reader #jack abbot x female reader #jack abbot x reader #dr abbot

313 notes · View notes

bililyy · 2 days ago

Text

Best friend!Billie - Pt2

This has a Drabble at the end that you guys will like lol

Warnings! Cheating, probably homophobic parents, Reader is a bit confused, Billie desperate for Reader's love, no use of Y/n

read the first part, so this one makes more sense.

Masterlist

"He's no good for you."

"You don't even know him!"

"No one is good enough for you."

Bestf!Billie who reluctantly agrees to meet you, but only because she needs to find flaws to show you.

"Billie, please smile."

"What? I don't want to smile at him, I want to smile at you."

Bestf!Billie ho almost rolls her eyes forever as soon as she sees him walk into the restaurant with a stupid smile.

She hates the fact that he just kissed the lips that should have been hers.

"I've heard so much about you."

"I wish I could say the same." She smiles innocently.

Yes, she thinks she's being tortured by being in this situation.

"Don't interrupt her!" She says as soon as your boyfriend interrupts you as you excitedly tell about your day.

"She talks too much."

"You talk too much!" She says pointing her finger in his face

Well, that left an awkward atmosphere for the rest of their night together.

"Can we kill him?" She says watching his back walk away.

"Billie!"

You already know that she showed you all of his possible "flaws", right?

"He has ugly hands."

"He interrupted you twice, damn it!"

"He didn't even bring you flowers."

"He didn't even offer to take you home."

"You didn't leave Billie."

"It doesn't matter, he should have tried harder."

But hey, a man wasn't going to stop her from being close to the love of her life, so it was okay.

Best friend Billie! who always puts on a lot of perfume when she comes to see you, so when your boyfriend asks:

"Is that perfume new?"

You'll always answer:

"No, I was with Billie before I came here."

He doesn't suspect you, but he finds it strange how attached to you she is.

"Does she... sleep in bed with you?"

"Yes, we're best friends!"

Best friend Billie! Who starts doing... not so friendly things to you.

She pulls you into her lap when you walk by and sits hugging your waist with her nose in your neck.

She keeps on like that.

Giving you little kisses on the mouth sometimes

Pulling you into her lap.

Sometimes even kissing your neck and leaving a soft mark.

You had to say something, you know you should but... it's such a good feeling.

Until one day...

Best friend Billie is lying on top of you (as always) and starts to caress your belly under your shirt.

"Billie, what are you doing?" You answer with your eyes closed.

She gets up a little and is inches from your face.

"I love you." She says seriously, those blue eyes staring at you as if you were her whole world.

"I love you too." She closes her eyes at that.

That's not what she meant.

"No... I love you much more than that, please break up with him."

"What? Billie that's-"

"I promise to treat you much better, I promise I'll take care of you." She says kissing your cheeks.

"Where does this come from?" You ask a little incredulously.

"My love for you? It's always been there." She smiles a little and gives a wet kiss on the corner of your mouth.

"Billie I can't... fuck, I can't break up with him like this now." She looks at you sadly.

"Why not?"

"Billie I don't know how I feel about liking a girl and... my parents like him." You say the last part quietly and Billie feels her head spin.

"It's okay you... you don't have to figure all this out right now just... let me have you."

"What?"

"I don't care that you're with him I just... yes, I really want to hold your hand and kiss you in front of everyone but... if you're not ready for that yet, I'll wait for you, but don't push me away."

"Billie, this is wrong."

"Let's solve this together, please give me a chance." She begs with her eyes, and damn you are so in love with those eyes.

"I don't know what to do."

"Let me love you, my love." She says, leaning down and kissing your neck, and you sigh, smelling her hair.

And wow, you've never felt so good having someone's hands on you like this.

She gets up from your neck, and speaks against your cheek.

"Please? I promise he won't find out." She approaches your mouth, and waits a while, giving you the chance to move away from her, but is surprised to feel you pressing your lips to hers in a kiss (which she returns immediately) full of sighs and longing.

Damn, where have you gotten yourself into, huh?

Maybe I'll do a part 3 with a one short lol

Thank you for your support and affection, please comment what you think 💕

#billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x reader #lesbian #billie eilish #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x you #billie x reader

166 notes · View notes

strnilolover · 2 days ago

Text

⌗ . . . I COULD NEVER HATE YOU

WARNINGS : ANGST. MANIPULATION. HURT NO COMFORT. and more?

you always come back when something’s wrong—after you upped and left right when you were better, not answering anyone.

it was like you only came back for the thrill of it—knowing you could get anything out of him if you gave him those big sad doe eyes. or if you stuck around long enough to whisper sweet words into his ears, knowing he couldn’t resist.

it doesn’t matter how long it’s been—three weeks, three months—your name always shows up on matt’s phone, like you never left. his heart always jumps before his brain can tell him to stop caring about you. before he can remind himself what happened the last time.

and the time before that.

it was always “can i come over?”, “can you send me something for gas?”, “i just need a place to think, i promise i won’t stay long.”

it was never to text asking how he was or how he was doing. it was never to ask if he’d finally found himself someone or if he was sleeping okay at night. you never called.

it was never things he hoped you’d say.

and even though he knows he should say no to you every time—he can’t bring himself to. that’s not who he is. so instead he’ll give chance after chance, telling himself that one day you’ll change and maybe he’ll finally hear the words he wants to hear from you.

but you never change—it’s always the same—no matter how many times it’s happened.

and he always lets you.

matt doesn’t ever ask you questions about things. he doesn’t say, “why didn’t you text me?” or “how many times are you going to keep doing this?” he can’t ever bring himself to. maybe it’s because he cares for you—he does—or maybe it’s because he loves you.

so when you show up—he just hands you a hoodie and asks if you’ve eaten anything that day—every time.

he’ll let you crawl into his bed while he takes the floor.

he’ll give you money and never ask you when you’ll pay him back.

he’ll listen to you cry about other people who never showed up for you, like he isn’t sitting right there.

you never stopped for a moment to notice how tired he looked when you talk about people who aren’t him. never stopped to consider how draining it was for him to keep doing all of this—you never notice how much of him you take.

or maybe you do and it’s just easier to pretend you don’t.

the thing is—you’re not a bad person. you never did bad things—you were always so kind to everyone else around you. everyone portrayed you as an angel who just had a fun side.

you’re not a bad person—you’re just hurting.

and surely matt knew that with how opening and welcoming his arms always are for you, right?

you don’t mean to use him…you just—know that he’s safe. you know that he’ll answer. and you know that he’s not going anywhere, even if you do.

a lot of the time you seem to love him in the way people love blankets when they’re cold oddly enough—only when they’re cold and need something warm.

and then when you’re doing better, you vanish completely. no texting, calling, letters—nada.

you’d start going out again. posting again. and laughing at the things he doesn’t get to see. like you were mocking him—telling him he has to sit there and suffer while you go out and give all of your—his—happiness away to other people who aren’t him.

you don’t ever tell him when you’re leaving—you just up and leave and stop answering all together.

and matt? he never texts twice. he never wants to be the one who’s too much for you—because maybe too much of his love might just push you away for good. so he just watches your stories and double taps your selfies—because he’s still allowed to be proud of you, right?

not like he didn’t help pick you up off the floor two weeks ago. like you didn’t cry into his t-shirt at 2am and tell him, “i don’t know what I’d do without you.”

chris brings it up once to matt—he didn’t want to be too harsh to him about it. but he could see what was happening and didn’t like it. “do you ever think she only calls when she needs something?” he asked.

and matt just shrugs. “so?” but chris knew his brother better than that—could see the way matt’s expression wavered just the slightest when the thought of you using him came up.

so chris urged on. “so… maybe you should stop answering?” matt knew chris was right. that he shouldn’t answer your calls and texts when you needed his help. but every time he thought about it while laying in his bed at night—or even now. he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“she needs me.” matt replied back quietly, his gaze now avoiding his brother completely so he wouldn’t have to see the look on chris’ face. it wasn’t disappointment—he was just worried for matt’s health.

but chris doesn’t argue after that.

because everyone who knows matt—would know he would rather break his own heart than let you sit with yours alone with no one to hold you.

you text him again eventually and he just stares at your name, his thumb hovering over the keyboard, and for a second—just a second—he thinks about ignoring it. just to see what it feels like to not have to bear your weight in his shoulders anymore.

but he doesn’t. of course he doesn’t.

so when his fingers type “hey, are you okay?” in reply to your simple “hey.” he knows you’re not. and of course he still cares even after people have told him to not—his own heart even.

you’ll show up at his door, looking tired and cold. and beautiful to him, somehow.

you’ll smile at him like you didn’t disappear for months on end. like you didn’t take whatever was left of his heart and crush it into a million little pieces. like none of it ever happened.

he’ll step aside to let you inside—because no matter how many times you leave, no matter how much of him you take, and no matter how much it hurts—

he could never hate you.

even if he should and even if part of him wants to. and that part—soon enough it’ll grow stronger and bigger. big enough to finally let his finger click the block button on your contact. big enough to finally end it all.

but for now you’ll stay for a little while.

and you’ll get better.

and then you’ll go.

and matt will wait for the next time you fall apart. because that’s what you do. and that’s what he does.

it’s a never ending cycle—because he could never hate you.

a/n : more angst :)

119 notes · View notes

trippinsorrows · 2 days ago

Text

dreamland: what i've become

authors note: the conclusion to the mini story i've been writing within asks. i've combined those two shorts in this one for the sake of cohesion. if you don't want to reread part 1 and part 2, just skip to the second "-------" and that starts part 3.

words: 7k

song inspo: 'monster' by skillet

warnings: angsttttttt.

Solana had a bad feeling about it from the get-go.

Something she couldn't shake in the weeks leading up to Roman leaving. The same way she couldn't shake something being off with her son. Something Roman noticed too, and it wasn't without effort from both parents to try and talk to him. But, beyond his father's looks, Tama also inherited the difficulty Roman experiences with opening up sometimes. And just as she did with her husband—still does occasionally—she gave him space. Roman gave him space, Solana briefly mentioning to her husband that he should try again when he returned from his latest trip. A trip that included their oldest twins tagging along.

A recent thing over the past year and some change, Roman taking turns bringing their older kids with him, providing him the chance to spend one on one time with them. On his last visit to Italy, he'd taken Tama with him, and they'd had such a nice time. Solana almost wishes they'd have said football be damned and allowed him to go again this round, Lina and Leya catching the next one.

Because in the days Roman's been absent, Solana feels like things have almost gotten worse. tremendously. Tama's irritation has spiked, his fuse shorter than she's ever seen in him. He has Roman's temper, yes. All of her boys do, but Tama has always been the type to only show it when provoked. He only shows just how much he's like his father when he has to. not lately. Lately, it feels like her baby boy lives in the valley of volatility.

He's just so angry.

"Baby?" Her voice is as soft as the two knocks her knuckles rap against his closed door. "Can I come in?"

She expects him to say no. Maybe even ignore her. That hurts the most. The ignoring part, because that's never been her dynamic with her son. None of her kids.

But, instead, she's met with a short, "yeah."

Solana doesn't waste any time, welcoming herself into his space, finding his back toward her. Tama's long hair is pulled into a messy bun atop his head, his focus on the tv and controller in hand.

Solana sits down on the edge of his messy bed, not bothering to comment on it. She's always expressed her desire for the kids to make up their beds, and he knows this, but alas, she's found that picking her battles with her suddenly temperamental fourteen year-old is the best route.

She smiles at him, glancing at the TV. "What are you playing?"

Another short, borderline irritated reply. "Call of Duty."

Solana nods, pushing some of her hair behind her ear. "Of course." She chuckles quietly. "You remember when you tried to teach me how—"

"Mom, I'm busy right now. What do you want?"

Slap. It feels like a slap in the face. An ironic thing considering some sort of physical impact would be preferred over the coldness and frosty reception from her son. Such unfamiliar, hurtful territory. So unlike her son.

"Tamasa...." The smile is gone, her voice weighed down with all the concern of a worried mother. "Baby, I'm worried about you." He scoffs, ripping his headset off, Solana continuing, reaching for his arm. "Please talk to me. what's going o—"

"Nothing," he cuts her off, still not looking at her. Refusing almost. "I already told you that."

She swallows, shaking her head. "And, I don't believe you." Because, she doesn't. Solana knows her family. knows her kids. Knows her son, and this....this isn't her baby boy. "Tamasa—"

He suddenly shoots up from his chair, finally looking at her, brown eyes burning with irritation that doesn't make sense. "Would you just leave me alone?"

Briefly taken back, it doesn't take long for her to stand up, remaining undeterred. "No, I won't, Tama. I’m your mother—" He groans, walking away from her to the other side of the room. Solana right behind him. "Tamasa, I'm talking to you."

"I don't care."

She stops in her tracks, her face dropping. "excuse me?" He continues to ignore her, clearly heading for the door. "Don't walk away from me when I'm speaking to you Tamasa Reigns," she reiterates, voice raised, switching to Spanish as she remains close on his heels, despite his continued disrespect. He scoffs, actually scoffs, ripping open the door. "Tamasa!"

"I said shut up!"

It all happens so fast, too fast, quicker than what she can compute and truly process. the words, his statement, is one thing. something that would normally garner the bulk of her shock and surprise and many other things, but it's easily outweighed by what accompanies said words.

It's the way he quickly turns around, hands lifted and placed against her, forceful, pushing. It's the way he shoves her down onto the ground, Solana stumbling back and on her ass, landing on her palms, her wide eyes never once leaving her son.

Her son who just put his hands on her.

Her son.

Tamasa never takes his eyes off Solana either, expression similar to the one she wears, revealing and exposing all of the emotions. Shock. Surprise. Fear. The anger has all but melted away in the face of the unthinkable.

A situation made only worse by the appearance of two other faces in the doorway.

"Mom?" Koa is the first one to speak, both of her younger sons rushing over to her. "Mom, are you okay?" his voice is filled with concern, eyes scanning over her. "What happened?"

kai, however, is two steps ahead. standing in front of his twin and her, he asks his older brother, hand formed into a fist. "Did you push her?"

He did. Tamasa pushed her. her sweet baby boy who would cry and whine as a baby and toddler whenever she put him down, who's always given her the best, most wholesome hugs, who's always looked at her like she hung the moon in the sky, pushed her.

Kai growls, rushing towards Tama, pushing him back. "get away from her!"

"No....." Solana murmurs, finally breaking her silence, the reality of what's occurred settling in and pushing back an emotion she hasn't felt towards the opposite sex in years. Fear. She felt afraid. "D—don't—"

But, it's a sentiment expressed too late, because the last thing she sees is the devastated expression of her oldest son before he turns on his heel and rushes out of the room.

—-------

"Is he by you?"

A frantic question from a frantic woman. A woman still living in between the valley of disbelief and concern, a permanent residence for over the past hour and a half. The scene replaying in her head like a form of torture. Unthinkable. Unimaginable. Unbelievable.

He pushed me

Dwayne sighs on the other end. "Yeah, he's here."

At that, Solana's eyes shut, her emotions settling just the slightest. not knowing where her children are has always been one of her greatest fears. Among other things. and tonight, that's exactly what happened. Tamasa not only left the house, but he left the house without his phone, leaving Solana with no way to contact him.

how he managed to leave without security following him, she hasn't a clue, but that's an issue for another day. She has much more important, heavier things to tackle.

"Sol, what the hell happened over there?" Dwayne's question brings her back to the conversation at hand. "Kid has barely said a word and looks like he saw a fucking ghost." For some reason, that makes the weight sitting at the bottom of her stomach sink even deeper. No mother wants to know or see their child upset, and knowing Tamasa must be all over the place and her not being there to help him is crushing. "I know Roman said the boy's been off lately, but this...."

She closes her eyes. He has no idea.

"We, umm—" She sniffles, wiping at her nose as she paces Tamasa's room. "we got into....an argument."

A pause on the other end. "What kind of argument, Solana?"

Right then and there, she knows, knows that there's no use in lying to him. in trying to downplay what occurred. doesn't stop her from trying though. "It's nothing."

"Solana, my nephew is sitting in my guest room just staring at the wall, and you're holding back tears." failing to hold back tears, Solana unable to stop them from cascading down her face. "What happened?"

She doesn't want to. doesn't want to tell him. doesn't want to have to deal with any of this, but she also knows that delaying the inevitable has never helped anyone in life. Especially her.

"Please don't tell Roman," she croaks.

"Solana, I'm getting conc—"

"He pushed me."

A pause. Long. Longer. And, then—

"What?"

And right away, despite her own mixed bag of emotions regarding what occurred, she slips right back into mama mode. "Don't say anything to him. Don't even tell him I told you."

"He pushed you?" Disbelief forms a marriage with anger that seeps through his tone. "Has he lost—"

"Something's going on with him. I know it. I just....." she stops herself, blowing out a breath, hand over her chest, regulating her emotions.

"You have to tell Rom—"

"I know, I will. I just..." Another sniffle. "I had to make sure my baby was okay first." Because what happened doesn't change the fact that her children's safety will always come first, hence why she's been on the phone with several family members trying to track down and see where her eldest son is. "And, Dwayne, I mean it, don't say anything to him."

Another loud sigh. "You know we don't play that shit in this family, Solana."

She knows that very well. "And, so does he." Even if she, for the life of her, can't understand just what made him do it. "Let me....let me talk to Roman first."

"You gon call him now?"

I don't want to. "yeah."

And finally, the question she was both waiting and dreading. "You're okay though, right? Physically, I mean? He didn't hu—"

"No." There's something about him even asking that that upsets her. Her son would never hurt her.

And yet...

"Please just keep him there with you. For....for now." Because Solana still needs to sit down and talk with Koa and Kai, her younger boys who are somewhere in the house blowing off steam from what occurred.

"I will," he promises. "Just let me know when you want me to bring him back home."

"Thank you," she murmurs, voice dipping once more from the heaviness of it all. "And, Dwayne?"

"Yeah?"

A broken gasp. "Tell him I love him."

Because nothing, nothing at all in the entire universe could ever change that. Period.

"I will, Sol," he agrees, offering with all the sincerity, "let me know if you need anything."

She nods. "okay." Disconnecting the call reminds Solana of where she stands, still in her son's room, the tv still on revealing a paused game. The bed still unmade and unkempt, an empty water bottle on the floor beside his desk. She closes her eyes and places her hands over her heart, taking another deep, shaky breath.

That was difficult.

This will be devastating.

Solana lifts up the phone, shaking fingers ready to navigate to Roman's contact when something catches the corner of her eye. something on Tama's dresser, another place and space of unorganized mess.

How she sees it, she hasn't a clue, but she does, and it makes her frown.

Solana places her cell phone in her back pocket and walks over to the dresser, reaching for the manilla envelope with a strange bulge. Shaped like something familiar. Like a bottle.

And, that's exactly what she pulls out. A pill bottle. A large one, too.

But, it's when she pulls out said bottle, reads the label of said bottle that an already dire situation skyrockets from bad to horrific.

Tears brew in her eyes, her hand over her mouth. "Oh my God...." She can't stop reading it, not the description or the other writing, but the name. Something most familiar to her given her profession. Something she knows all about through various teachings and experience in her field. But, something she never would have thought to find in her fourteen year-old son's room.

Trenbolone.

A name that might mean nothing to some but everything to her, because she recognizes it for what it is.

An anabolic-androgenic steroid

Tama is using steroids.

—--------

“Where is he!”

Solana has just rounded the corner, barely made it in the entryway of their home when she’s met with both a concerning, yet expected, sight. Roman stands in front of the door. Dressed in dark joggers, a black hoodie, the darkness under his eyes confirmation of the sleep deprivation he’s no doubt battling after boarding the jet as soon as she called and told him what happened.

The sound of Lina and Leya talking amongst themselves, giggling, clearly merry and happy, is a stark contrast to Solana who sits on the floor of her son’s room. Leaned up against his bed, her eyes, red and puffy.

She feels anything but merry.

Shuffling on the other end. “Give me a second, baby.” Roman says something to the girls in Italian, Solana muting the phone to sniffle without him hearing. The noise soon dwindles down into almost silence as he devotes his focus solely on her. “What’s wrong?”

Solana unmutes the phone, taking a deep breath. “I—I—”

“Solana.” His deep voice reeks of concern, Solana able to visualize the deep scowl on his face. “What happened?” The concern jumps to level ten as he asks almost anxiously. “Are the kids—”

“They’re fine,” she answers. Not entirely true, but the least she can do is wane his concern about something serious having happened with the kids. “It’s—it’s Tama.”

A pause. “What happened, Solana?”

Her eyes shut. Solana realizes the longer she goes without answering, the more his concern will grow. She has to rip the band-aid off.

“I tried to talk to him again, and he–he got upset with me.”

“Solana.”

The most heartbreaking words to leave her mouth in some time. “He pushed me, Roman.” And finally, the tears. Solana can't hold back her sobs anymore. Can't act like she's never felt so utterly hopeless and lost regarding her babies.

She feels so helpless.

Silence. Prolonged, continued, hefty silence.

And finally, a steel, cold, borderline stoic. “I’m on my way to the airport”

As relieved as Solana is to see Roman, she can’t deny that her husband looks the way she feels. Tired, confused, concerned and something extra, something evident in the way he walks into their home.

Angry.

It’s an emotion that melts away—temporarily—when he lays eyes on her. An instant shift. “Sol…”

Solana doesn’t waste a second in moving so that she’s in front of him, his arms around her, holding and comforting her.

Naturally, she melts into him, gripping the material of his shirt as he cradles the back of her head. She sniffles quietly, allowing the embrace to comfort her in a way she’s needed so desperately over the past few hours. Needed him.

Roman just holds her, letting her hold onto him before stepping back just enough to assess her, his eyes scanning over every inch of her, searching.

“I’m—I’m okay,” she assures. Partially true. Partially untrue. It’s hard, nearly impossible, for her to be even remotely okay considering what’s occurred.

Her words seem to settle him but only slightly, Roman’s eyes quickly darkening as he eases back into the space that had his jaw tight and his hand flexing.

Anger.

He’s angry.

“Where is he?” He repeats, Solana’s stomach dropping realizing just how upset he is. She knew he would be, expected him to be, but actually experiencing it in the moment is something different.

“Roman—”

“Naw, where the hell are you?” Roman moves past Solana, stalking up the steps, his wife right behind him. “Get the fuck out here now, Tamasa!”

She stops in the middle of the steps, eyes shutting as the gravity of the situation overcomes her once more. Never in a million years did she imagine hearing her husband speak of and to their son in such a tone. It’s painful, hurtful, and devastating in all the ways imaginable.

She hates every bit of it.

“You wanna put your fucking hands on your mom and think I won’t fuck you up for it?”

“Roman, please—”

But, he’s not listening, not even truly, mentally present. His focus, emotions, and everything else are too grounded and situated in the bulk of his anger. And, hurt. Because Solana has no doubt he’s just as torn up about this as she is. He just, in true Roman fashion, expresses his with more volatility.

With anger.

“Tamasa!”

Solana winces at the harshness, the way he stomps through the house, headed for the boy's wing. A part of her even more grateful that she made the call to send the younger kids over to Afia’s. Happy Roman agreed to leave Lina and Leya in Italy with Matteo, as he hopped on the jet straight home as soon as she told him what happened.

She didn’t want them to be around for any of this, especially this side of Roman, a side he’s never presented around them unless the occasion called for it.

And as much as she hates to admit it, if there was an occasion for Roman to tap more into the side of the Tribal Chief, it would be now.

Solana jumps when he kicks down their son’s door.

“Roman!”

“I want it all out of here,” he shouts, hands on his hip, motioning around their eldest son’s bedroom. “Every game, every piece of equipment, everything but his fucking bed is gone!”

“You need to calm down,” she advises, stepping toward him, moving her hands up and down his chest. “Please.”

Roman’s eyes shut at the contact, his jaw flexing and jerking in the way that it does when he’s trying to do just what she’s trying to do.

Calming the fuck down.

“He’s not here,” she finally informs, Roman’s eyes snapping open at the news.

“Where—”

“He’s on his way. Dwayne is bringing him,” she continues, jumping in before he can cut her off. “But, Roman, you need to calm down before he gets here. He doesn’t need this—”

Still, he remains too far embedded in his ire to hear her out. “He needs his ass whooped, Solana. That’s what he needs.”

“And, that’s why I need you to calm down.” Because she understands her husband being upset, knows how fiercely protective he is of her, and rightfully so given what happened. But, all this rage won’t help the situation. It’s only going to make things worse. “Ro….”

She steps away, past him, to the dresser where she found it. Where she left it, knowing Tama wouldn’t be home until Roman’s jet landed and he was home, so there was no way for their son to grab it again.

And especially to take anymore.

The tears begin brewing once more as she picks up the bottle and turns toward Roman, hand outstretched. “Look.”

He frowns, stepping closer, taking said bottle. Thick brows cave downward as a deep scowl forms on his face. His eyes dart up. “Are these—”

“Yes,” she answers, stomach in every sort of knot imaginable. “Steroids.”

Roman’s jaw tightens. “He’s been taking steroids?"

Solana nods, just hearing it aloud feels so wrong. “Yes.”

Roman scoffs, shaking his head. Disbelief dances between the two of them. “Jesus Christ…how did….how the hell did he even get these?”

She crosses her arms. “You and I both know how easy and accessible these things are to kids these days.” Far too accessible. “I don’t—I don’t know how I missed the signs.” One, in particular. Tama’s sudden irritability and outbursts should have keyed her into something being off. Maybe not steroid use but something.

She's a nurse for crying out loud.

Roman, however, sees the trajectory of the path his wife is on and moves quickly to deviate. “Baby, don’t do that.” He steps forward, pulling her into him, bottle tossed onto the bed. “Don’t blame yourself.”

He knows her well. Too well. “I just wish we would have—”

“I know.” Nothing more. It doesn’t need to be stated. Doesn’t need to be said aloud. Not with everything else that needs to be expressed, but not to her. Roman just needs to make sure his wife is good before he tackles the bigger issue at hand. Tama.

It’s Tama he needs to talk to.

—----

Uncle Dwayne doesn’t come in the house, doesn’t accompany Tama into what might be the scariest situation he’s ever walked into. He’s thought about this a lot, laid and twisted in bed thinking about it, fearing it, knowing what’s coming but also not being able to do anything to stop it.

Not that he necessarily would if he could, because deep down he knows what this really is. Consequences. They’re the consequences of his actions.

Actions that led up to this very moment.

He’s slightly disappointed to not be able to see his mother, but also not sure if he’s ready to see her, either.

Truth be told, he doesn’t feel ready for any of it, especially once he finds himself in front of his room. A room that no longer has a door, the large hole in the middle, the way it leans against the wall, very visibly off the hinges, all the story he needs.

It also makes his nerves just three levels higher. Five when he finds his father sitting on the edge of his bed.

Tama doesn't say anything, doesn’t know just what to say, what can be said at this point.

So, he goes with what’s undeniable and indisputable.

“Dad—"

“Tamasa.”

Silence. A frosty chill that channels across the room, embedding in the walls and settling in the cracks. A sort of tension that can’t be cut, dismissed, or ignored. The type that dances up the skin and pricks, imbuing itself within the soul.

“You know that I’ve always worked hard to control my temper in front of you and your siblings. That I’ve never wanted to show you that side of me.” Tama says nothing, continuing to look at his father who sits on the edge of his bed, closed, clasped fists holding up his chin, gaze finally lifting from the floor and settling on his son.

Tama swallows. He’s never heard his dad speak to him with such….coldness.

Roman gestures to the side of them, the wall lined with countless trophies, ribbons, and other sports-related accolades. “But, it’s taking everything in me not to put your ass through the fucking wall right now.”

Tama doesn’t doubt it. Doesn’t doubt it one bit.

“I asked you what was going on. I tried to talk with you before I left. I’ve been trying to talk to you, and you’ve shut me out. And even with that, I respected your space, because you deserve that.” Roman shakes his head, expression and voice remaining even and sharp. “But, you lost the right to that space the minute you put your hands on your mother.”

Another sentiment the teenager can’t deny or disagree with. He’s just grateful to be upright and vertical, because Tama knows if there’s one thing his dad has never played around with, it’s his mom. Tama knows for a fact anyone who’s ever disrespected his mother has been dealt with.

In the most brutal of ways.

“So, I’m only going to ask you one time and one time only, what the fuck is going on with you?” A pointed question, the acrid tone making the eldest Reigns boy wince. This side of his father is uncomfortable and unfamiliar, but it’s also well deserved.

Tama knows he deserves this.

“I—”

“Or, better yet—” Roman cuts him off, reaching behind him and tossing something in Tama’s diffraction. Naturally, the teenager catches it. “Why don’t you start with telling me about that?”

Tama looks down, his stomach dropping as his hands tighten around the now empty bottle of pills.

His mouth is suddenly drier, tongue dipping out to run over chapped lips. “Dad—”

“You taking roids now?” Is Roman’s rough, abrasive question. Tama wincing once more. This is brutal. “Answer me when I’m talking to you, boy.”

“It’s not….I didn’t mean—”

“I don’t care what you meant, Tamasa.” Another harsh cut-off, Roman reiterating once more, “you know better than to bring drugs up in my house. The same way you know better than to even be taking that shit in the first damn place!”

Tama shakes his head, eyes dropping to the floor, fingers tightening once more over the object in hand. “I—I know.”

“You know?” Roman’s voice is slightly mocking, his eyes flashing with something dark and intense. “Tama—” He stops, Tama watching how his father shifts his gaze from him to the window adjacent to them. The way his eyes close, and he takes a deep breath, gaze returning him with an almost 180. There’s still anger, still frustration, but also something else.

There’s concern.

“Talk to me, son.” Another audible shift evident in his tone. Softer, almost. Less abrasive and aggressive. Perhaps a bit desperate, even. “Help…help me understand this, cause for the life of me, I can’t. This isn’t like you. This isn’t the son that your mom and I raised.”

Hurtful words, but words that need to be shared. Truth be told, Tama doesn’t entirely recognize himself, either.

And, he shares as such.

“I don’t know,” he whispers, walking to his desk, plopping down in the seat, allowing the bottle to fall onto the floor. “I just—” He leans over, hands on either side of his head. “It became too much.”

A frown settles on Roman’s face. “What became too much?”

Tama swallows, voice tight. “The pressure.”

Roman sighs, not from frustration or agitation but something else. Something heavy. Something almost sorrowful. “What pressure, Tamasa?”

The words swim around in Tama’s head. A vulnerable truth he’s been too scared to discuss and speak aloud because doing so makes it real. Makes it something he can’t avoid anymore. Something he doesn’t want to say aloud. But, then the thought of his mom’s expression, the fear in her face after he shoved her smacks away that resistance, reminds him that perhaps avoiding it is exactly what brought them to this very point.

So, despite the trepidation that eats him up on the inside, Tama lifts his head, looking his father dead in the eye. “The pressure to be like you.”

Roman’s shoulders drop. “What?”

Tama continues, pushing and powering through his discomfort. “I’m not like you, dad.” He shakes his head, scowling, deep in thought, submersed in the throes of insecurity. “At school, all I see is Roman Reigns holds the record for this, broke the record for that.” His jaw clenched, hand moving nervously up and down his thigh. “I go to the Warehouse, and all I hear about is how epic a fighter you were, you still are.”

“Tamasa—”

But, Tamasa is too deep in his thoughts, finally freeing them from the suffocating confines of his mind. He’s struggled silently with this for long enough. “You lead the Bloodline and the Cosa Nostra, and everyone either fears or respects you—or both. And, I’m just….I’m just me.” Tama’s voice takes on a hint of disappointment. Of shame. He motions to his body. “Just your can barely put on muscle son, but even worse, one of the first in line to be your heir…. and I….I don’t want to disappoint everyone.” He swallows, finally looking back over at his dad. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

Of all the things his son could say, of all the things going on, Roman could have never guessed this is what’s been behind Tama’s strange behavior. Not even the steroids. The reason behind him using the steroids.

Roman wouldn’t consider Tama small whatsoever. Is he as “big” as Roman was at his age? No, but Roman was also a late bloomer, not hitting puberty until he was almost thirteen years old, so Tama being a little behind just makes sense.

And, he knew that it bothered his son somewhat. Just not this much.

Not nearly this much.

More than the Tribal Chief could have ever guessed.

Roman’s tone has shifted once more, barely above a whisper. “Son—”

“I just wanted you to be proud of me.”

And just like that, any trace and hint of anger and frustration is whisked away by a crushing, devastating admission of vulnerability and insecurity.

“I’m sorry, dad,” he whispers. Roman looks over to see Tama’s gaze back on the ground, the light shining from the window behind reflecting off his face, highlighting the watering of his eyes. “I didn’t mean—I never—I never meant to hurt her—I’m sor—”

Mere seconds are all that pass between the time Roman stands up from Tama’s bed and closes the distance between them. “Come here.” Without word or warning, he pulls his son into him, hugging him, eyes shutting as Tama tenses momentarily only to quickly ease into a sigh of relief and emotion.

“Tamasa, you listen to me, and you listen to me good,” Roman speaks, holding the back of his son's head. “I don’t want you to be like me. I want…I want you to be better than me.” Words from the heart and deepest part of him. “And the truth is you already are better than me, because you’re half your mother, and we both know there’s no better person than her.” An undeniable truth. “I don’t want you feeling like you’re not good enough or big enough or strong enough or anything fucking else. You don’t have to be me or live up to any record or anything else I’ve set. I just want you to be you. I’ve always just wanted all of you kids to just be whoever you are and know that whoever that is, I’ll always support and love. No matter what.”

Truer words have never been spoken, because two things can coexist in the same universe where Roman is upset with his son, disappointed with his son’s actions, but nothing could ever stop him from loving and being overall proud of Tamasa. Is he perfect? Hardly. And, Roman doesn’t want him to be. Doesn’t expect him to be. He just expects and wants him to be—exactly as he’s told him—himself.

“I’m sorry, dad,” Tama whispers, voice tight, the emotion and profundity of it all settling in, the haze and blinders caused by the steroids dissipating in the face of reality. “I don’t know what came over me—”

Roman already knows what he’s referring to. “It was the steroids.” No doubt about that. No doubt that majority of Tama’s behavior have been caused by the substances he’s been taking in order to feel better about himself, to feel like he’s “bettering” himself, an ironic thing considering what’s occurred. “You gotta stop taking them.”

It’s deeper than that, Solana already scheduling an appointment with his doctor to oversee the proper process of weaning Tama off the pills. And more than that, to run blood work, because no telling what the hell he’s been putting in his system.

“I will,” Tama sniffles, pulling back and quickly wiping at his eyes. “I–I promise.”

Roman nods, asking. “Where’d you get them?”

“Some guys on the team,” he answers. Roman makes a mental note to talk to the coach and find out who the fuck is on the team spreading fucking drugs like it’s fucking candy.

“Tama….” Roman lowers his hand to the back of his son's neck. “I meant every word I said. I am proud of you, and I don’t want you feeling like you’re not good enough or need to compete. I just want you to be yourself, to enjoy your childhood. Don’t worry about living up to shit. You should be in competition with nobody but yourself,” Roman releases a low, quiet chuckle. “Let alone an old man like me.”

The smallest smile on Tama’s face, his eyes twinkling with that light Roman hasn’t seen in his son in weeks. “You are really old.”

“Shut up.”

Tama’s smile deepens slightly, gaze dipping and rising back to his father. “I love you, dad.”

“I love you, too, son. Always.” Roman’s gaze darkens, his tone transitioning from almost lighthearted to serious. “But, Tamasa.” A beat. “You ever put your fucking hands on your mother again, and it’s me and you….you understand me?” Roman threatens, reminding his son the natural, respectful order of things. A one and only reminder he’ll ever again in life receive. “She may be your mother, but she’s my wife, and I’ll be damned if I let anyone lay a hand on her. Even you.”

Tama nods. “Yes, sir.” His shoulders drop as Roman lowers his hand back to his side. “Is she….”

“In her art room,” Roman answers, already knowing what his son is asking. “She’s waiting for you.”

Words that Tamasa continues to replay in his head as he makes his way through the house to his mother’s art room. A place of peace and tranquility. A room where he’s spent countless afternoons over the years, sometimes helping, sometimes watching, as she turns a blank slate into something beautiful and special. It’s always been one of his favorite things to do with her, even if he himself has never really been good at such things. She’s never made him feel that way, always been supportive and encouraging. Always been the best. She is the best, and that’s why it tears him up thinking about it.

Thinking about how he could do that to her. She didn’t deserve it. No one does, but especially her. He only knows a fraction of what she’s been through in life but enough to know the trauma she endured at the hands of men. Men who put their hands on her.

The same thing he’s now done.

It’s the worst fucking feeling in the world. The worst possible imaginable pain knowing the one woman he loves most in this world was hurt at his hands. His mother’s expression of fear, fear toward him, something he’ll never be able to rid himself of as long as he lives.

Good. He deserves it. He deserves a lot more than that.

But, it’s when he finally arrives to his mother’s sanctuary, sees her standing in front of an easel, a frown upon her beautiful face, her focus clearly on anything but the canvas before her, that something clicks. Something shifts that has all of the emotions he’s experienced over the past 24 hours—even longer—come to a head.

Especially when she turns to look at him. Her frown deepens, her shoulders dropping, the last thing he hears being his name, soft and sympathetic, on her lips. “Tama…”

Any resolve crumbles and breaks as Tama closes the distance between them. One minute he’s in the doorway, the next he’s in front of her, on his knees, holding her, tears streaming down his face.

“I’m sorry, mama,” he whispers, holding her a little tighter, like he has to, like it’s the only thing he can do to make this right. A gentle, loving touch to counteract what was anything but. “I’m so—so sorry.”

For a second, he freezes, realizes that perhaps the way to undo is not to rewrite. That a kind touch does not strip away the scars of unkind. That he’s out of line. That just as he doesn’t deserve to forget what he did, he doesn’t get to try to make things right. A horrifying, debilitating feeling. But, one that is washed away the minute he feels his mom’s arms around him, her mouth pressing the longest, lingering kiss to the top of his head.

“Oh, Tamasa.” His eyes clench shut. Love. All he hears—all he feels—is love. The type of maternal, unconditional love that only a mother can provide. “I know, baby. I know.”

“I would never hurt you,” he vows, a promise to never be broken or made to be a lie from this day forward. “I love you—I love you too much. You’re my mom.” He looks up, sniffling as Solana cups his cheeks, offering a small, sad smile. “I’m sorry for—for all of it—for being so mean to you–for—”

“Tamasa.” She lifts a hand to stroke his hair. “I know exactly who you are and who you aren’t. You’re my son, and my son is the kindest, smartest, funniest young man I know. That is who you are, and that person is perfect just the way he is.” Words aimed towards what she won’t specifically say but he knows. The pills. The pills he’d been taking in the hopes of becoming someone he thought he needed to be. Bigger, stronger, everything just more. More like his taller, stronger teammates.

More like his dad.

“But, baby, your father and I are so proud of you.” He swallows, struggling to understand how that could still stand. “We always have been, and we always will be.”

“Even—even after—”

At that, Solana’s expression drops, her eyes widening slightly. “Tamasa Reigns, you listen to me. There is nothing—nothing—you could ever say or do to make your dad and I not love you. Nothing.” He hadn’t said it. Not verbalized it. Not allowed himself to say aloud the other fear, something that would have felt impossible before but a reality now.

The possibility of his mistakes being too great for even his mother’s infinite grace. The chance that he’d ended not only losing her trust and respect but her love.

“I love you.” She kisses his forehead, eyes closing, mouth shifting to place another kiss on his temple. “I love you so much. Don’t you ever forget or question that, okay?”

Tamasa nods, leaning in to hug his mom once more. “I love you, too, mama.”

She holds him, allows that reassurance and love to flow through the both of them. And, they stay like that for a good five minutes—maybe longer—before Solana reaches for his hand, helping him to his feet. “Tamasa….” He looks down at her, Solana bringing her palm back to his cheek. “I meant everything I said, but I also mean this as well.” She swallows, shaking her head. “I made a promise to myself a long time ago that I would never let another man put his hands on me—”

“Mama—”

“And, I meant that.” He swallows, wanting to interrupt but also knowing better. “So, if you ever in your life make the mistake to do anything like that again, it’s not your dad you need to worry about. It’s me.” He presses his lips together, Solana seeking confirmation of his comprehension. “Do you understand?”

He nods. “Yes ma’am.”

A warning that feels almost unnecessary. Tama would rather be raked over the coals than be in this sort of situation again. To put his parents through this again.

Solana smiles, moving to hold onto his arm. There’s still so much to cover, so much to process, so much to figure out. Roman and Solana already agreed to put Tama back in therapy. He’d done it when he was younger, all the kids, especially when Leya’s OCD was severe enough to where it was impacting all of them. But, once they felt the kids were “okay,” they stopped for the time being. However, given what’s happened, she thinks it’s best for him to restart.

They also discussed talking with him about family therapy. Just the three of them. Making sure they’re doing what they can and need to in order to support him.

And, though he didn’t say it, Solana has no doubt in her mind that Roman will be working to spend more one-on-one time with their oldest son. Time to talk, to support, to listen, whatever Tamasa needs. Personally, she already thinks he does such a great job doing that already, but clearly, more is needed.

So, that’s what will happen.

“Tama.”

The eldest Reigns’ boy turns around to see his father standing in the doorway, leaning, arms crossed. Tama wonders how long he’s been there, how much he heard. All of it, preferably.

“We need to talk to your brothers when they get home,” Roman informs. “We don’t have to tell them everything, but they need to know what happened isn’t acceptable.”

Tama agrees. He’s always considered himself, as the oldest boy, responsible for leading by example for his younger siblings, especially his brothers. They deserve a conversation.

And an apology.

He nods, “yes, sir.”

Roman kicks off the door, motioning with his hand. “Come on.”

Tama frowns, asking, “where are we going?”

Roman gives him a pointed look. “You want a damn door, don’t you? Well, now we gotta go fucking buy one.”

The smallest smile, Tama walking over to his dad when he thinks of something. Turning around, hand extended, he asks, hopeful. “Come with us, mom?”

Solana’s eyes water. She sees it. Sees the sweet little boy who always held onto her as a toddler, whined when she put him down for too long, gave her the biggest, best, tightest hugs whenever he had to leave her.

She sees him.

Sees her son.

Solana toward him, taking his hand, gently squeezing. “Always, baby. Always."

------

and, here we go. i've been wanting to write something to show more of the close relationship/connection roman has with tama, and this felt like a good storyline to do so. shoutout to my lovely, amazing moot @jayjayem1999 for giving me the idea forever ago about tama feeling the pressure of living in roman's shadow and resorting to supplements.

curious if you agree with how roso handled this situation, especially roman. lemme knowwww.

#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #aisnotebook

114 notes · View notes

on-the-clear-blue · 10 hours ago

Text

What if Danny didn't die? He does open the portal but for the first time in their lives the Fentons followed OSHA regulations.

He doesn't have the powers, but he was right there when the portal opened, he saw the tear in reality and it...it did things.

It wasn't something that a humans mind was supposed to see, while the Infinite Realms are the in-between dimensions, and what is in-between the in-between?

Elder gods, slumbering calamities, fallen angels hid from their gods ever present eye, righteous spirits who reached nirvana, monsters beyond imagination...

The crack before the Realms snapped to his dimension was only open for a mere moment, a single millisecond but to the young boy it was eternity, and he could only watches as all those beings turned their attentions to him, they saw him, observed him as much as he did them.

He had fallen, screaming as he clutched his eyes, his eyes and ears were bleeding, his brain pounded so hard it felt as if it was going to knock out his eyeballs, Sam and Tucker, spared from it all as they had turned their heads when the lightning flashed and rent the portal open could only rush to the boy, trying to help him but all he could do was scream. Because what was beyond had saw him, and gave him a gift.

---

Far away, in a tall tower, a man with a gleaming gold helmet shuddered as the ankh of light in front of him shattered.

He fell to the floor, the minor magic he used failing as the more complex spell fizzled and broke, leaving him painfully wheezing on the ground, clutching at his chest.

"N-no...T-this can not be...T-The order...it...it failed...it can not fail!" Dragging himself across the Tower of Orders floor, Dr. Fate forced himself over to a lone summoning circle, falling onto it with an exhausted groan, the Gaurdian of Order muttered a soft word, and the circle flared, and in an instant he was gone, leaving the Tower shaking it it's wake.

---

On the couch of the House of Magic, John Constantine was feeling as if the world had fucked him so hard in the ass he would never be able to walk straight ever again.

And with the pounding in his skull from a truly deadly hangover wasn't helping either.

Nor was the half dead Dr. Fate puking up his guts in his living room.

"Argh" which translated to "What the bloody fuck are you doing in my house you daft shiny headed prick" but John didn't really have the strength to say that.

"Blugh" was what the ever regal Dr. Fate responded with, which obviously meant "The border between realities have been broken, the Beyond Dark knows of our existence and has seen our world, they have come to either eat upon our existence and reality or defend agaisnt the others that seek to only fill their own unexistance."

John of course, carefully and gracefully pissed himself.

---

In Faccuet City, a young Billy Batson screamed as his head exploded with noise, the gods and heros alike were all suddenly the strongest they had ever been, their powers flooded and overwhelmed his mortal form, and to save his life, the Champion of Magic forced itself into being.

Even in the Champions form the sudden influx of godly might was almost too much, steam charged with lightning billowed off him in great plooms, sparks zapped from his finger tips to the ground, and the air stunk of ozone all around him.

The gods were ranting, each talking over each other, debating in so many dead languages Billy's mind could keep up the translations.

It wasn't until Solomons voice boomed over the others that the voices fell quiet. "ENOUGH! NOW IS NOT THE TIME OF IN FIGHTING, THE BEYOND IS AT OUR DOOR..."

Taking a breath even if he didn't need it, the ancient king looked all the years he had lived and then some, "Young William...oh dear precious boy...our dear son. A great advent has begun, a door which should never been opened has been thrown wide...the beasts you face, the abominations of teeth and tentacles are just the mites that have slipped under the door...waht is to come will make all that you have faced look like mice...we will not have enough time to prepare you with what is to come..."

Solomons voice broke at the end, and he hung his head in the mental image in Billy's head "Seek out others, join forces with any. All those in touch with the arcane shall know of what just happened...as Champion you will be the spear head, the general of them all...you will lead them agaisnt the Beyond."

---

It took a week for Danny to come back to himself again, at least a little bit, he still had a haunted look in his eyes, and was far to quiet. He barely spoke at all, but when he did it was in ramblings of things not understood by any of them.

His parents assumed it had been a ghost that left in this state, their hatred for the ectoplasmic beings growing more and more as their son, their boy grew worse.

Jazz, unlike her parents listened to what Danny described, studied what she could and figured out what she couldn't, at each dead en she pushed, with Tuckers help she gained access to computer systems that held secrets of the occult, and with Sam's freely given credit card? Oh she dived deep into spell, trying desperately to find any kind of cure for Danny's predicament.

As time went on the boy only got worse, he had begun seeing the beings in the Beyond, some whispered wisdom, of long lost ways to calm the millions of mutterings in his gray matter and the pounding of his heart, while others screamed, in jubilation and rage, as it is only in being seen did they become real, and becoming real meant they had a foot hold in existence.

The wise figures, while helping had also steered him to their own goals, some told him to hate the jabbering hordes, others said that the only way to truly to be rid of them was to be nothing as well, to go far past being a person, into being one with the Byond.

Some of the mutterings lead to more questions, they spoke of Gods long forgotten and recent, of their betrayals and what they did to fall, others claimed that they were not fallen, that they were there to protect him from those that were.

The more and more he listened the more and more he saw of them, until Danny began to not understand what was real and what wasnt.

So he didn't even flinch when a group of imposing figures were in his room when he came up to his bed, hoping that the voices of Parathax the Unbeliever would be quiet enough for him to sleep.

Oh he did scream quite a bit when the sad trench coat man with a multi fractured sould reached out and touched him.

#danny phantom #dc x dp #dpxdc #danny didnt die #he just got infected with a bad case of the elder god maddness #the magical community of DC are collectivally screaming theit head off #tw: horror #but not really tood badly i hope #but still gonna tag it incase #jazz learns magic to help Danny #ghost stuff is still happening but the Fentons are so much more brutal about it #john constantine #dc billy batson #dr fate #godly twitch chat au #but my take on it

147 notes · View notes

thedonswife13 · 16 hours ago

Text

I’m with the girls! I vote we scare her and see what happens. Hehehe these girls and their schemes but, oh what I wouldn’t give to be a fly on that trail/trip!

Glad Buttercup and Rooster are finally get to talk. He knows what it was like having been on that side of things. He’s been in the girls places and can at least understand why it had to happen even if he doesn’t like it. Bradley saying that Jake should’ve put his family first after saying that Jake should’ve been able to handle it in response to what Buttercup said is nice to hear. Knowing what we do, Jake has put Charlie and now Abby first in everything he does, except the midlife crisis 🙄🙄

Oh I love their pranks on Savannah! I’m over here giggling imagining the screams.

I have no doubt in my mind that Jake Seresin is a fantastic father. No doubts at all. Yes they were both hurt by the things said and done in the past…however they’ve both had time to grow and there’s nothing more powerful in this world than love! Jake still loves her, there’s no way Buttercup isn’t still in love with Jake

Nat being dramatic thinking it was Javy at the door again 🤣🤣 I can understand why she and Javy fought so much when he wanted more and she was hesitant; she didn’t want to go through the same heartbreak her best friend did. I think she should’ve taken the jump then and now. I think those two just need to be locked in a room or something and figure out their issues. Natasha calling the guys idiots makes me think of a sister talking about her brothers. 🤣

“…your girls and your man?” “He’s not my man, and you know it” “does he know that?” That’s a darn good question Phoenix, also does she know since I feel she’s started to fall for him again

I forgot all about the itching powder! If Jake ever finds out Rooster gave it to the girls he’s more than likely goin to get an earful! Now everything is coming out! Jake wouldn’t even be with her if she’d be truthful in the beginning which is why she lied! Grrrr I’m so over her

Jake fell hard and fast for Buttercup! Literally the perfect first date! I’ve only been to that zoo once but, it was incredible! Savanah can be mad all she wants, Jake is putting his girls first as it should be.

YES! YES!YES! FINALLY! 🥳🥳 Literally screaming over here!

As You Wish, Chapter 13

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (but biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, drinking, reference to divorce, kids doing sneaky things, references to pregnancy, swearing, references to the hospital, references to an accident

South Trail, Seresin Ranch, Clifton, Texas, Now

Charlie felt a chill run down her spine as their trail group walked steadily down the beaten dirt path. Dad was in the lead, as per usual, and Abby had beaten her in a game of rock, paper, scissors in order to come second. That left Charlie third, close enough to Savannah to hear every muttered complaint and snap of her camera as she took selfies.

“Jakey!!!” Savannah cried out as they emerged from the trees onto a lookout, the ledge watching over a field full of wildflowers. “We need to stop! I need photos of this for my followers!”

Charlie stifled a giggle as she saw her dad’s head slump forwards. This was the fifth time Savannah had whined about needed a photo opportunity since they had left the ranch, approximately five hours ago.

“Savannah, I—”

“This is the last one, I promise!” she squealed, clumsily pulling her horse to a stop and sliding down her side until her suede boots touched the ground. She practically threw her phone to Jake and went to stand on the edge of the cliff.

Jake grunted as he neatly dismounted and patted Firewall on the flank. “It has to be the last one or we won’t make it to the campground before nightfall.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine, whatever,” Savannah chirped as she struck pose after pose.

Charlie and Abby both dismounted and moved off the trail to stand in the shade of the trees.

“It would be mean to scare her and hope that she falls, right?” Charlie muttered under her breath.

“Charlie!” Abby let out a scandalized gasp. “She may be awful, but we can’t wish death upon her…though I would be lying if I said that the same thought hadn’t occurred to me as well.”

Charlie slumped against the tree, watching the horses drag their reins on the ground as they stood on the trail, waiting for their riders to be done. “She’s just…the worst.”

“I know. Why would Mum insist that she come with us instead?”

“She said that she wanted Savannah to have a chance to get to know us.”

Charlie smirked. “Alright then. Let’s let her get to know us. Then maybe she’ll wish she had never met us.”

“We’re not that awful,” Abby rolled her eyes.

“I know that, and you know that, but Savannah doesn’t know that. So, let’s make her think we’re the worst. Then she won’t want to marry Dad because it would mean having to spend time with us.”

Abby grinned, her eyes trained on a spot on the ground. “I think I know exactly how to start.”

Crouching to the ground, Abby scooped up a tiny chipmunk from where it was nestled in the roots of a tree.

“Hey buddy…” she whispered. “I bet you want to see what’s in our saddlebags.”

Charlie covered her mouth to muffle the sound of her giggles as they approached Angel.

“Do it now! Savannah’s got her back to us!”

Quiet as a mouse, Abby slid open the saddlebag and slipped the chipmunk inside. “And now we wait.”

Around noon, Buttercup wandered into the kitchen from the guest bedroom. She hadn’t been lying about having to work. Her deadline was rapidly approaching, and she had been struggling quite a bit with writer’s block, so she had taken advantage of the silence of the ranch house and the beauty of the view and spent the morning writing her heart out. Twenty pages later, and her groove had been interrupted by the grumble of her stomach. So, she saved her work and, slowly as to admire the pictures and paintings on the walls of her ex-husband’s home, she wandered out of her writing cave and into the kitchen, where she was faced with a sweaty Rooster.

“Oh…hey.”

He grunted at her as he dug through the fridge. “I’ll be out of your way in a minute.”

“Technically, I’m in your way, since this is your home so…don’t worry about it.” All she received in return was another grunt, and she sighed. “I know you’re mad at me. I know you were against our divorce since the beginning, I know you hated the custody arrangement, and I know you blame me for moving to a different continent, but Rooster…” she sniffled. “Thank you. Thank you for taking care of them for me, when I wasn’t here…when I wasn’t strong enough to do it myself.”

She watched as Rooster sighed, his head hanging between his shoulders before he slammed the fridge door shut and turned towards her.

“Listen, it isn’t your fault. You were sick. I remember my mom talking about how she got sick after havin’ me, and…and shit, Buttercup, I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. And it didn’t help that we kept getting deployed. You were goin’ through it and none of us could see it. I know you fought like hell, and so does he. I just—”

“You know what its like to not have a dad around, so you wish things had been different for Abby. And you know what its like to not have a mom around, so you wish things had been different for Charlie. Right?”

He blinked at her. “Get your ass outta my head.”

She chuckled before the mood settled around them, still slightly somber.

“I should’ve been able to handle it,” she whispered, and Rooster sighed, leaning back against the fridge.

“Hangman should’ve been able to handle it too,” he shrugged. “I know I was pissed off at you for putting yourself first, and it wasn’t fair. I was more worried about how the divorce would affect the team dynamic, instead of worrying about how the divorce would affect you. But he screwed up too. He should’ve put you first, not the team. That’s how it’s supposed to be.” Buttercup blinked up at him and he shrugged. “I started going to therapy after a bar fight when Charlie was like 2. Court mandated, but it helped. I let a lot of shit go.”

“Good for you,” she smiled. “I am grateful that they had you and Javy to lean on, you know. I’m not just trying to get back on your good side.”

“I know,” he shrugged and turned his back to her. “What do you want for lunch? I could hear your stomach grumbling from my room.”

She grinned and sat at the counter. “I imagine asking you for a salad wouldn’t fly?”

He scoffed without turning his back. “We eat healthy in this house, but we don’t eat rabbit food. What do you really want for lunch?”

She giggled. “What about taco salad?”

He turned and pointed at her. “Now that’s a damn good idea.”

It couldn’t have gone better if they had trained the chipmunk themselves. They had remounted and strolled along the trail for another fifteen minutes before Savannah started pawing at the saddlebag, looking for her oversized, bright pink water bottle. She was able to pry open the clasp of the bag and stick her hand inside. And then it happened…

The chipmunk launched into action, racing up her arm before Savannah could even realize what was happening and landed on her shoulder. Savannah freaked out, screaming and shaking her arm to try to dislodge it. Sweet Angel picked up on her rider’s anxious movements and started trotting down the trail, shaking her head this way and that.

Charlie and Abby watched from the rear as the chipmunk disappeared under the hem of Savannah’s designer t-shirt, Savannah screaming as the rodent searched for an escape. Angel reared up and Savannah clung to her neck. Both girls turned their heads to hide their giggles as their dad scooped the reins out of Savannah’s hands and gently pulled Angel back to the ground, soothing her in a calm voice. The chipmunk finally found an escape through the arm of her flannel, and leapt from Angel’s back to a nearby tree.

“Oh my goodness, Savannah!” Abby called, urging her horse forward. “Are you alright?”

“That was crazy!” Charlie gasped, hiding her laughter behind her hand.

She glared suspiciously at them but said, “I’m fine. Thank you.”

Jake tied Angel’s reins to Firewall’s saddle and turned back to look at them. “We’re going to head to the campground now, okay, Charlie?”

Both girls gave him a thumbs up and he rolled his eyes. When he turned back to face forward, they leaned over and high-fived each other. Neither the chipmunk nor Angel had been hurt, but Savannah screams had been absolutely hilarious. Perhaps their dad suspected them (he knew enough about the great outdoors to know that a chipmunk wouldn’t just materialize inside a closed saddlebag), but perhaps their little prank had allowed their father to see a different side of Savannah.

Lunch with Rooster had been good. The taco salad he had whipped up had been absolutely delicious, the ground beef perfectly spiced, and the spinach base had been simple but brilliant. More than that though had been their conversation. He had filled her in on so much of Charlie’s life (and Jake’s life as well, since it was so tightly woven with Charlie’s). She had always known that Jake would be a brilliant father, but some of the stories that Rooster had shared with her had her torn between laughter and tears. The antics her husband and her youngest daughter had gotten up to were bittersweet to hear about. In her mind’s eye, she could see them happening. She could see Jake flying toddler Charlie over his head, could hear her phantom cries as he gathered her 8-year-old body in his arms and carried her to the car, her arm bent at a painful angle.

As she strolled along the gravel path towards the dude cabins, she could practically see the phantom figures of her family as they lived and grew here. Knowing she had missed so much of Charlie’s life here, she regretted her decision to stay behind on the trail ride, but she hoped that Savannah would be able to make a better impression on her daughters than she had made on her.

“Honestly…” she muttered as she approached Cabin 1, where her brother and Natasha were staying. “What kind of woman doesn’t want to write her own wedding vows?” She sighed and climbed up the few stairs to the porch. “And what kind of sadistic bullshit is it to ask your future husband’s ex-wife to write the vows for you?”

She shook off the question as she knocked on the door. It had obviously been some sort of territorial claim from Savannah, trying to show Buttercup that he was hers now, but Buttercup had no doubt about that. She’d hurt Jake too badly for things to ever go back to the simple, fun, and loving way it had been before.

Natasha threw open the door and groaned. “Thank god it’s you.”

She chuckled and entered the cozy, modern cabin. “Who did you think it was?”

Natasha rolled her eyes and collapsed onto the comfy leather couch. “Javy. He keeps trying to come and talk to me.” Her friend shuddered dramatically.

Buttercup considered her carefully as she lowered onto the other side of the couch. “What’s the deal with you two? I thought Jake was the one you hated.”

Nat sighed and buried the scarred side of her face in the couch. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Buttercup took the pillow from behind her and whacked her friend with it. “C’mon! You’re acting like he killed your dog or something!”

Nat snatched the pillow and tossed it back at her. “Why’re you being so pushy, bitch?”

“Because you and Javy have been at each other’s throats since we got here, and I had to kick you out of dinner last night before either of you said or did something inappropriate in front of my children. And I hated doing that.”

Natasha let out a low whine as she tried to bury herself deeper in the couch. “Sorry…I promise I won’t call him a self-important bastard in front of your children.”

Buttercup barked a laugh and cuddled down into her seat. “But why would you call him that? It’s so weird! I honestly thought you two were into each other back in the day.” Natasha shifted so that her back was towards her friend, and Buttercup read it all in the tense line of her back. “Oh my god, you were into him!”

“Shut up…” Natasha grumbled. “He was into me too.”

“Were you two hooking up?”

Natasha rolled to look at her again. “Yeah. For a couple of months. Whenever we were both at Top Gun.”

Buttercup squealed and crawled across the couch so that she was right next to Natasha. “I knew it!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Natasha grumbled, pushing her off.

“So, what happened? Bad breakup? You act like you want to kill him.”

Natasha groaned. “No, it wasn’t a bad breakup. It wasn’t a real relationship.”

“Did he want it to be?”

Natasha buried her head in the pillow. “Yeah…he wanted to make it official after that last deployment. We fought about it a lot. I didn’t want to risk it because…” Natasha paused and looked guiltily over at her.

“Because?” Buttercup prompted gently, having a sneaking suspicion that she knew where this was going.

“Because I saw how messed up you were after the divorce,” Natasha admitted. “Our jobs are–were–risky enough without being in a relationship. And if our relationship fell apart the way yours and Jake’s did?” She sighed. “I told him no, but he wouldn’t let it go. Then there was the crash, and he came to visit me in the hospital and…” Natasha’s fingers clenched into fists. “He told me he would ‘take care of me’. That he felt like it was time to retire and that he would stay with me and that it would all be okay.”

“And that’s…bad?” Buttercup leaned back, confused. “He cared and wanted to help you? Why is that a bad thing?”

Natasha shuddered. “I couldn’t stand him looking at me with all that pity. And besides, why did he retire? He had the best job in the whole damn world and he willingly gave it up? Are you kidding me? They all gave it up! I mean, okay, Bob makes sense because he wanted to help you but why the hell would the rest of them give it up? Fucking idiots.”

Buttercup bit her lip. A decade of living with the other woman told her that trying to talk to Natasha when she was this fired up would be like trying to draw blood from a stone. So instead, she said, “Where is Bob, anyway?”

Natasha shrugged. “He got a phone call and went for a walk.”

“What is up with him and these phone calls?” Buttercup mused as she folded her legs beneath her.

“No clue. But what is with you deciding to stay back and let Cowgirl Barbie go on the trail ride with your girls and your man?”

Buttercup grumbled at her. “He’s not my man, and you know it.”

“Does he know that?”

Buttercup rolled her eyes. “Of course he does! He’s marrying Savannah, remember?”

Nat rolled her eyes and rolled off the couch before padding into the kitchen. “Of course I remember. That’s why I’m going to get wine. We’re going to need it.”

By the time they reached the campground, Abby was half convinced that Savannah had never been on a horse before. Even though she kept telling stories about her championship barrel racer back on her own ranch, poor Angel kept tossing her head at the confusing signals that her rider kept giving her. Charlie was fully confused. She’d done barrel racing before and the way Savannah was describing it, she knew she had never done it in her life. Her stories about shopping, drinking wine, and winning Miss Texas however, Charlie completely believed. No one could sound so excited about boring adult things if they hadn’t actually done them.

Luckily, they wouldn’t have to share a tent with her. That had been a stipulation of her joining them. Her own tent. Not even shared with their father, just her. Luckily, Jake had packed a hammock that he had already strung up between two sturdy trees for himself, leaving the other tent for his daughters.

All three Seresin’s watched Savannah as she primped in front of her cellphone camera, taking selfies of herself near the lake they were camping by. Jake shook his head with a sigh as he finished setting up her tent and stretched.

“What do we think about a dip in the lake before dinner?” he asked the girls, a wild grin on his face.

Both nodded eagerly and bolted into their tent to pull their swimsuits on.

“Did you bring it?” Charlie whispered, and Abby nodded, pulling out a packet from her backpack.

“Uncle Roo gave it to me and I tucked it away for safe keeping,” Abby replied. “You distract Dad, and I’ll make sure it reaches our target.”

“Deal.”

Both girls quickly changed and headed out of the tent.

“Dad!” Charlie called. Jake turned from where he was talking to Savannah, his hands soothingly rubbing her shoulders as she scowled at him. “Can you help me put sun block on my shoulders? Mom would kill me if I came back burned.”

Jake grinned. “She’d kill me first,” he called back, turning from Savannah and strolling over to Charlie.

Jake sufficiently distracted, Abby snuck into Savannah’s tent and ripped open her packet. She sprinkled the contents everywhere. In her sleeping bag, in her clothes, on her hairbrush, in her shoes, and definitely on the inside of her hat.

With a wicked grin, Abby crumpled up the evidence and crept back to her tent to hide it in her backpack. She emerged just in time for Jake to finish lathering her sister with sun block, the two of them turning to her.

“My turn?” she smiled at him sweetly.

“Yeah, baby, c’mere.”

Charlie turned to Savannah, who was still trying to find the just right angle for her selfie. “Will you be joining us in the water, Savannah?”

The petite blond couldn’t hide her sneer. “I think I’ll pass, sugar, but thanks.”

“Suit yourself,” Charlie shrugged. “You might want to get changed then. It’s going to start cooling off soon.”

Savannah smiled, the pull of her lips a touch too saccharine to be sincere, and said, “Thanks, honey. I’ll do that.”

As Savannah strutted into her tent, Jake joined his daughters and mussed their hair. “Last one in is a rotten egg!”

He took off running, his long legs eating up the ground as his daughters squealed and sprinted after him.

By the time they emerged from the chilly water, the sun was hanging low in the Texan sky and the air had adopted a slight nip that spoke of the coming autumn. Charlie and Abby raced to get dressed in their flannel pyjamas and their thick socks. As they pulled on their matching PJs, they heard Savannah whine and swapped grins.

“I HATE THE OUTDOORS!” she shrieked. “Everything hurts, I have bruises everywhere, my hair is so frizzy, and I must’ve been bitten a thousand times because I can’t. Stop. ITCHING!”

The girls could practically hear the frustrated look on their father’s face as he faced her. “I thought you said you’d been camping before?” he asked, his voice cool under pressure.

Savannah scoffed. “Yeah, in a cabin like civilized human beings. You know, electricity and indoor plumbing? And we never rode to the cabin! We drove there.”

“Who took care of that prize winning mare of yours while you were gone?”

“The staff, as usual,” she replied as though she were talking to a small child. “They do everything for her.”

The twins could feel the rising tension even from inside the shelter of their tent. “Even ride her?”

“Duh,” Savannah giggled. “Daddy paid top dollar for her because I wanted to try barrel racing, but I hate riding, so now she just has babies that we sell. Daddy lets me keep the profit since she’s mine and all. Two of her babies paid for my month-long trip to Paris.”

Jake huffed a sigh. “And you didn’t tell me this because?”

“What does it matter?” she replied coyly, a branch cracking under her foot as she moved closer to him. “We have loads of other things in common, sugar.”

Charlie rolled her eyes at Abby before leaping out of their tent. “Dad! We’re starving! Can we get the fire going so we can eat?”

Jake nodded, his eyes still fixed on Savannah. “You two go collect some firewood, and I’ll get everything ready.”

“Savannah, you want to come?” Abby called sweetly.

Savannah grumbled, her hands scrabbling against her chest and stomach. “Why am I so damn itchy!” she shouted, stomping her foot.

Jake huffed and turned to her. “You’re probably having an allergic reaction to something. Go wash off in the lake while the girls are gone. Take the calamine lotion from in my bag and make sure you cover all your itchy areas. I’ll get you some of my clothes to wear.”

“An allergic reaction to what?” she seethed, glaring at the twins as though she knew it was their fault.

“I think Uncle Rooster might have changed our laundry detergent,” Charlie supplied, grinning at her. “Maybe that’s it.”

“Maybe…” Savannah snarled before stalking off, the sound of her complaining drowning out the twin’s peals of laughter.

Savannah complained that the hot dogs and smores they were eating weren’t on her diet plan for the wedding, but Jake promptly shut it all down by telling her they were her only choice. Grumpy and painted pink from the calamine lotion, she slowly munched on a hot dog, grimacing with every bite.

“Dad?”

Jake grinned at Abby and nodded. “What’s up, kiddo?”

“I know you’re supposed to tell us stories around the campfire…” Jake’s confirming nod gave her the courage to finish. “Could you tell us about your first date with Mom?”

Savannah’s eyes went wide, and she looked as if she was about to complain again, but Jake cut her a look and she quieted.

“Sure, darlin’. If that’s what you want to hear…” Jake grunted as he settled himself further into his chair, his daughters watching him from a log across the crackling fire. “Let’s see…”

The San Diego Zoo, almost 13 years ago

Jake’s palms were sweating, which was saying something. He was the only pilot of his generation who had not one, but two air to air confirmed kills under his belt. He was ice cold under pressure. Nothing made him flinch. But strolling amongst the different animal exhibits with Buttercup had his hands damp and gross, no matter how many times he wiped them on his jeans.

My god, how he had fallen for her. Her spark, her sass, that fire in her eyes that challenged him in all the right ways. She was brilliant. She was perfect. And he had to make sure she didn’t wise up and take her brother's advice. There was no denying that Bob Floyd still didn't like him very much, and who could blame him? He'd been a dick to everyone when they had all arrived at Top Gun for the Uranium Mission. Now, Jake was still a dick, but he wasn't 100% an asshole anymore. He needled his teammates, pushed them to be better, aggravated them until they were achieving their full potential. It's what he did. What he had always done, even as the captain and quarterback of the high school football team. His methods didn't earn him many friends, but they earned him a shitload of respect.

It had taken him three weeks to work up the courage to ask out Bob Floyd's little sister. Three weeks of hanging out with her at the Hard Deck, three weeks of getting his ass kicked by her at pool, three weeks of feeling like a fucking freshman again, drooling over the girl that was so out of his league.

It was Phoenix who had finally given him the push to ask her out. A gruff "She likes you too, dumbass, so don't miss your fucking chance" was all that he needed to ask her to go to the zoo of all places. He'd heard her mention it a couple of times and wanted to make their first date memorable, because he had a sneaky feeling that it was one he would be talking about for a while.

“Giraffes are this way, darlin’,” he chuckled as he gently tugged her arm down the correct path.

Buttercup squealed and swung their hands between them. “I freaking love giraffes!”

He shook his head playfully. “You’re such a weirdo.”

“What?” she pouted. “The hot aviator my brother has been bitching about for like a year takes me to the zoo to meet the giraffes and I’m not allowed to be excited about it?”

“No, you are,” he smiled, squeezing her hand. “It’s cute.”

“You just said it was weird,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, but a good weird. I like your weird.”

“I like your weird too.”

He blinked. “I’m not weird.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re the only person I know who can name every type of military jet. In order of the year they were made.”

“Lots of pilots can do that,” he blushed.

“No they can’t, and you know it.”

“Fine, whatever,” he teased. “The giraffes are here, you weirdo.”

She squealed again and tugged him along to the meeting area, where the tour guide was waiting for them.

The whole tour of the giraffe enclosure, Jake kept a close eye on Buttercup, who was drinking in all the information. She was incredible. The way her eyes lit up with excitement, the way she quietly squealed as the giraffes strolled over to look at her. It made a funny pit grow in his stomach. He could watch her facial expressions forever. It made him feel like a fucking superhero to know that he was the one who made her smile like that, that he had been the one to make this happen.

Finally, the tour guide led them up close to the giraffes, who were milling about the wide paddock.

“I’m going to fill their food buckets so that they’ll come closer, and you can say hi, okay?” she grinned at them and Jake pulled out his phone. He wanted to capture the smile on her face as she met her favourite animal for the first time. He wanted to be able to look down at that smile the next time he was out in the middle of the Atlantic and remember how good she had made him feel just by standing beside him.

Buttercup squealed softly as the giraffes came close, and Jake chuckled. "Excited?"

"I still can't believe you set this up," she murmured, glancing up at him with stars in her eyes. "This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me."

"You're welcome." His smile was almost shy as he watched her interact with the gentle giants. "Would you maybe want to grab dinner on the way back? I know a great place for Italian."

Her responding grin was just as bright as it was when she started feeding the giraffes, and Jake gulped. He knew in his heart that this was the start of something special.

As Charlie listened to the story, her misty eyes watched Savannah stomp away to her tent in a huff.

Morning broke, and with it, so did the silence.

Savannah shrieked and, based on the racket she was making, her tent was probably about to fall down too, if it hadn’t already.

Abby and Charlie shared a startled look and bolted from their tent. They hadn’t done anything. They figured having to listen to a romantic zoo proposal story had been enough torture for one night. But there Savannah was, screaming and shoving at her tent, which had seemingly collapsed on her.

“What the hell is going on here?” Jake shouted, his boots hitting the ground as he took in the sight. “Savannah, what is wrong with you?”

“They did this!” she screamed, a pink painted nail stabbing at Abby and Charlie. “I know they did!”

“Savannah—”

“No!” she shouted, whirling on him. “I know they put that chipmunk in my saddle bag. I know they put something itchy in my clothes. And I know that they made my tent fall down on top of me!”

Abby turned to her father. “We didn’t make the tent fall, Dad. I swear!”

“You see!” Savannah shrieked. “The little demon admits it!”

“Watch it!” Jake growled, stepping in front of Abby.

Charlie bent to look at the ground in front of Savannah’s collapsed tent. “There’s hoofprints here, Dad.” She followed the tracks over to where Angel stood, her reins dragging on the ground. A thin black fiber hung out of her mouth. The exact same colour as Savannah’s tent.

“You expect me to believe that a horse collapsed my tent?” Savannah seethed.

“It looks to be that way,” Jake replied icily. “Now, you owe my girls an apology.”

“An apology?” she laughed coldly. “You heard the little brat. She only denied collapsing my tent, which means she did the other things!” Savannah sneered at her. “I know you’re the British one. I can tell a fake accent a mile away. And let me tell you this. You showing up here was the worst day of my life. I never wanted to be a stepmother! I thought maybe I could handle one kid until I could convince you to send her to boarding school, but two? No one in their right mind would want to be a stepmother to two little brats!”

Jake stepped smoothly in between them, both Abby and Charlie huddled behind him as he faced his fiancée. “Who says I would’ve sent them to boarding school? They’re my girls.”

“I am your girl!” she shrieked. “ME! M.E.! And if you want to marry me, then you have to choose! Because I’m not playing second fiddle to two little she devils anymore! Got it?”

“Then…” Jake chuckled. “I choose them.”

“Excuse me?”

“T.H.E.M? Them. I choose my girls. Got it?”

Tags List: @jessicab1991

@waltermis

@buckysteveloki-me

@allepaula

@yuckosworld

@bradshawssugarbaby

@ahopelessromanticwritersworld

@kim-stark

@high-speed-r

@starsrfun

@tomanyfandomstrash

@averyhotchner

@the-blueatlas

@dashes-dizzydisaster

@a-girl-who-loves-disney

@boiolay

@djs8891

@tgmreader

@kmc1989

@landpiranha-blog

@sydthekid1518

@lynnevanss

@mackenzieblair

@minejungwoo

@starset21

@tgmavericklover

@dempy

@starkleila

@magical-spit

@whatislovevavy

@simplyreading96

@vivalas-vega

@itsdesiree86

@inky-sun

@books-are-escapes

@abaker74

@devil-angel-winchester

@mrs-perfectly-fine

@inthestars-underthesun

#jake seresin x reader #as you wish fic #jake seresin #top gun maverick #parent trap au #jake hangman seresin

199 notes · View notes

angeliteeyes · 3 days ago

Text

I promised @cmiru Aven content. And now, I deliver to you

Aventurine x Reader Headcanons

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

- I don't care that Hoyo was dumb and gave him plain ass nails. He 100% loves to get them done, especially if you're also into it. On his own, he's more of a manicure kinda guy, but he's more than down for you to do his if you offer. Even if you're a bit clumsy and the polish gets everywhere, he'll take it in stride. Although, he may have to make sure his gloves are on during business meetings.

- You do NOT have to worry about toxic masculinity with this man. Yeah, sure, he's got plenty of overwhelming insecurities bubbling under the surface, but this isn't one of them. He loves the finer things in life, so why should he limit what pleasures he indulges in? Frankly, it's the least life can give him after the shitshow that was his past.

- You would expect him to win every game you two play together, whether it's a card game, board game, or whatever else—as long as it involves luck. I mean, it's him we're talking about. Yet, after some coercion on his part to get you to play, you actually win? Like not every once in a while, you win more rounds than he even does. If you comment on it or start to boast, he'll just sit there and happily take it. Little do you know that this is what he was hoping for, to see you all happy and excited like this. So really, who's the winner here?

- He laughs a lot when he's nervous. The more nervous he is, the louder it tends to be. It gets especially bad if he ended up blurting out something that he immediately regrets or finds embarrassing, which is a lot once he tries to court you. The end result is shit like this:

"Wow, the sunset's really pretty... like you."

"Huh?"

"HAHAHAHA nothing! Nothing..."

Aven. Please. You're not being as sneaky as you think you are.

- Surprisingly not that forward when it comes to flirting with you? At least, not once he's seriously into you and wants to have a genuine relationship. His mind is eternally stuck in gamble mode, which means that he ends up seeing you yourself as a game of luck. And in turn, he sees all the chances for things to go wrong. Maybe he'll go too fast and make you uneasy around him. Maybe he'll take things too slow and you won't realize just how earnest his feelings are. He's used to making bets, but not like this.

- His saving grace is that he's got socializing as a whole down pat, which he uses to his advantage to learn as much about you as possible. What kind of guys you're into, which ones you're not into, insecurities, pet peeves, and so on. This way, he can get his odds of winning your heart up as much as possible before the final bet of asking you out.

- For how much time he's spent worrying about if you like him back, it really doesn't show when he bites the bullet and confesses. If you take a moment to think about it, you can tell pretty easily how rehearsed and planned out the whole ordeal is though. Every line is as sweet as honey, painfully so, and without a hint of shyness or embarrassment in his voice. Don't let his act fool you. There's a reason why he hasn't made direct eye contact with you this whole time, and why his hands you caught shaking are now surreptitiously hiding behind his back. For his sake, pretend you didn't see anything.

- Once he actually has you as his partner, he has no fucking idea what to do. Of course, he's thought about it a lot. His fantasies of going on dates with you, holding you, etc. have been the one thing getting him through all his boring business meetings, after all. But he was so focused on getting you that having you feels like a far-off notion. His search history may or may not have an embarrassing amount of questions like "how to be a good boyfriend" or "things you should never say to your partner" (gotta be prepared).

- It's not too noticeable unless you're already dating but... the way he thinks of you is a little off, or more accurately, how he thinks YOU think of him. He constantly gets you nice, luxurious gifts, spends plenty of money on you, all the works. Yet it feels like a given when he does, as if there's no other option in his mind. Even if you don't ask for a single thing or even say explicitly you don't want material stuff from him, it's like he can't comprehend it. As if he doesn't believe you'd sincerely like him and stay with him without some sort of transactional benefit. If you reassure him enough or refuse his gifts, you might be able to change this for a little... but don't be surprised when he reverts back to his old ways.

- He thrives off of any sort of positive reactions or general affection from you. It helps a lot to ease the neverending fear he has that you're losing interest in him, and believe me when I say he needs that help to stay sane. He won't say it out loud, but he likes you best when you're clingy or possessive. It means you want him and won't run off with some other guy, right? ......Right?

- On a happier note, he loves saying your name every chance he gets. Specifically in a happy sing-song sort of way. He kinda just likes singing to you in general, whether it's soft, romantic melodies or random, jokey stuff to make you laugh.

Imagine him singing Sweet Caroline. Now imagine him very loudly going

BUM BUM BUM

because he knows you'll find it funny. There you go.

- Also. When he laughs way too hard he snorts like a pig and then goes dead silent from shame. Looks at you like this

Unless you also snort when you laugh, in which case congrats!!! You two can live in a barn together happily <3

#aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #honkai star rail headcanons #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #x reader #oink oink or whatever #—stellaronhvnters.#the writing slump is getting to me... but the headcanon format is keeping me afloat for now

83 notes · View notes

sly-is-my-name-loving-is-my-game · 3 days ago

Text

Fuck you thunderbolts headcannons. Cause I have so many and I cannot keep them to myself anymore.

Before we get started, it's important to note that the end cut scene means next to nothing to me. The russo brothers wrote that, so I do not care.

John chews tobacco. Did it for a bit as a kid but quit so he'd be healthy in the army. Once he took the serum and Lemar (Who was a huge influence on John quitting) died he started again because he knew it wouldn't necessarily kill him anymore.

Bucky still smokes on occasion. Not as much as he used to back in the 40s because he's been told how bad it is for him now and also because the taste has changed too much for him.

Yelena actually doesn't like vodka that much, she mainly drinks it because it reminds her of her family.

Alexei can cook in theory. The problem comes in the fact that he can only cook prison food.

Similar story with Bob but instead of prison food it's broke/high food. I'm talking spaghetti noodles with ketchup and hotdogs.

Not all of them are medicated but God they probably should be.

As a group they have a call and response codeword to check how bad they're feeling.

Goes something a little like this.

Call: Light levels?

Bad response: Low

Good response: High

At first, it was just for Bob until Bob used it for someone else, and then it spread to an entire team thing.

Someone has genuinely said something to the effect of "Yeah, but he's our asshole" about John before. Probably Bucky.

Every mission has a situation in which one team member has to reign in another one. At least once, the highest count was 15 times in one mission.

One time, the tower had a group watch of a JFK assassination documentary, and Bucky had to jump in and correct dozens of different mistakes.

Bob is super into Dungeons and Dragons but has never gotten to play. Instead he likes watching/listening to actual play shows.

Whenever someone is looking way too tense Alexei takes them to the training room and helps them punch it out. Via sparing or using left over boxing mits. This works a surprising amount of time

Alexei also has very strong opinions on American boxing.

They have collectively broken. So much furniture. Honestly most of the time it's an accident but still.

John only drinks really really strong coffee, everyone else in the tower puts something in it to offset the taste but it's just like straight jet fuel. This only becomes everyone else's problem because John is always the first person awake enough to make coffee in the morning.

Bob in contrast can't even have the most sugary taste covering coffee because somehow it will still taste bitter to him. No matter whats in it.

Ava is a coffee creamer girly but doesn't add extra sugar. Yelena in contrast doesn't like creamer but does add at least two spoons of sugar to every cup she drinks.

Ava loves pumpkin spice, Bucky also does but not as much and in secret. When Ava found out about this they started going to get coffee just the two of them to gossip.

One time they got lost in the wilderness post mission and while waiting for a pickup were arguing about what they were gonna eat. John pulls out like 10 MRE's. No one knew he had these on him and he claims to always be carrying at least one.

Alpine does live in the tower. Bucky just walks around the tower with Alpine hanging out in his jacket. It took a solid few days for the team to realize that the cat existed.

Alexei is allergic and does not care he will snuggle with the cat anyways.

Ava once got stuck on the couch for two hours with Alpine on her lap before just phasing out underneath them cause she felt guilty about trying to stand up.

Yelena did get a second guinea pig to keep the one she rescued company. Their names are Mak and Cheese.

Mak 100% has superpowers. There's a betting pool on what they are but Mak has not revealed them yet.

Fanny does not live in the tower, and is still staying with Kate Bishop. Yelena just worries she won't have enough time for a more active pet. Because Mak, Cheese and Alpine are all pretty self sufficient.

Ava likes to start games of tag and then phase through multiple walls to get away.

They once had a week long game of tag in which towards the end they were actually on a mission. Game only ended because the person who was 'it' last got injured.

Due to the fact that each of their serums are different the super soldiers are usually guessing what the other ones are like. Non super soldiers think they are the same but they do in fact have minor differences that really only matter to themselves, other super soldiers, and people trying to recreate the serum. The serum seems to be defined by the following things: Strength, durability, speed, agility, stamina, reflexes, and healing factor. (I personally would combine speed, agility and stamina but what do I know) ((Personally heightened senses should also be thrown in the mix but those are whats on the wiki))

As for how the three super soldiers of the Thunderbolts obviously they have all of these categories but: Alexei's serum gives him slightly better durability and healing factor, John's is mostly in speed, agility and stamina, and Bucky's falls more into strength and reflexes. It would be very close in all categories if they somehow were competing but those are the categories I think they would slightly better in. As for senses I think Alexei has the least best and John has the best best. All of them have crazy senses but John is the one who faintly hears heartbeats when standing next to people I fear.

When Clint found out Yelena was living in the old avengers tower he called her to tell her about all the old secret places he and Natasha had. As well as any other secrets that he remembered. Some of them were gone but most of them were still around.

The most popular nickname for John other then just straight up calling him an asshole is "Captain Taco John" or just "Taco John" he thinks Yelena started it but it was actually Alexei.

They've been banned from every axe throwing place on the East Coast. New ones that open on that side of the country get called by competitors warning them in advance.

John and Bob learned that no one else on the team had been to a waffle house before and then demanded they go.

When they finally did go post mission they found out that Bob is banned from most waffle houses in Florida and lower Georgia for reasons he cannot remember.

John is literally the worst liar once you get to know him. Like literally the most obvious tells in the world. No one tells him this though so he still thinks he's a decent liar.

Alexei did sign up to be a mall Santa one time. Yelena ended up being one of the elf helpers.

Yelena and Bucky are tied for most languages spoken on the team, with Ava in third and Bob in last.

Bob is learning how to speak Russian though.

Bucky threatens to shave his head whenever the others are up to crazy shit. Says it'd be faster then having to pull his hair out.

Bucky has a large collection of second hand paperbacks from the bookstore.

The most genuine everyone on the entire team has ever been is when they did secret Santa and everyone actually tried. It wasn't even like a requirement they all independently decided to try.

John talks to Lemar's parents but not his own. I refuse to believe that man had a good relationship with his parents look at him. He's a people pleaser and in the few scenes we get of him in Georgia I believe he doesn't even bring them up let alone go see them.

John has a weekly phone call from Lemar's parents. The others find out when they overhear him talking about them. Though he leaves out a lot of big and scary details as not to worry them. Actual quotes from this phone call "Mama they're all awful awful people." < said with a smile his face and heard through his voice proceeded immediately with "Of course I'm keeping em fed Ma'am they're all so bad at cookin'."

You can pry John Walker with a covered up southern accent from my cold dead hands. That man is from Georgia for petes sake. He tries to keep in understated because people in the military took him less seriously with the accent.

All of the group has a habit of talking with one another's accents which gets so brutal when two of them are Russian, one of them is British, two of them are southern, and the last one is a New Yorker.

Out of all of them the only one who has been able to defuse a bomb is Ava. Yelena is an explosives expert but only at setting them up. This comes up as a problem far more then you would think.

John, Ava, and Yelena are banned from having the remote while watching action movies because they will pause the movie and talk about the weapons/tactics being used for thirty minutes before continuing the movie. Only to do it again 5 minutes later.

Yknow that one episode of Phineas and Ferb where doctor doofinsmirtz is trying desperately to get this doll his daughter wanted when she was a child? Alexei did the same thing. To the point he went off grid for two days and came back just before the team was gonna go looking for him. Showed up covered in blood and bruises holding this pristine little doll out to her.

Yelena treasures that doll. It has special shelf in her bedroom. Though she did tell Alexei that if he ever pulled some shit like that again she'd beat his ass.

They all honestly did not want to get super close to each other at first. But when you live and work together for any significant amount of time you're bound to just start knowing shit about those people that you don't expect to know.

Also every single relationship between all of them was super rocky and unstable for a long time and still kind of are. Lots of things are going unspoken that probably shouldn't be but they're working it out together one thing at a time.

All of them know that the other people on the team are smart but sometimes it's easy to forget just how scarily competent your teammates are when they do weird dumb shit all the time at home.

Bucky is most of the teams emergency contact. Bucky's emergency contact is still Sam.

The first time any of them called the Watchtower home was when Yelena was a little delirious from being injured and it caused the entire rest of the team to freeze for a moment before continuing to get her medical help. After that they all kinda started doing it.

Alexei loves learning new things about pop culture and then trying to tell the others about it like they don't know. This would be more annoying if he wasn't right and most of them they actually did not know about it.

All of them have such wildly inconsistent pain tolerances that they find it hard to tell when one of them is actually injured or not.

Ava is still in contact with Bill Foster who upon hearing about the New Avengers travels to New York to figure out what is going on and if she's ok.

Ava also still has the teddy bear that Bill gave her.

They've given each other the most fucked up parody high school superlatives. John got worst post nightmare reaction, Bucky got most targeted weapon in a fight, Alexei got most likely to be a PR nightmare, Ava got least likely to break something important, Yelena got least likely to derail the mission to fight someone, and Bob got most likely to have the most randomly useful knowledge.

All of them are bad drivers, but the only ones actually authorized to drive are Alexei, Bucky, and John. Yelena always drives like she's in a car chase even when she definitely isn't, Ava never learned how to drive and doesn't want to because she's scared of phasing through the vehicle, and Bob also never learned how to drive properly (he can drive in theory, not as much in practice). As for why the other three are shitty drivers, despite owning a driving business I refuse to believe Alexei knows American driving laws, Bucky is still learning how modern vehicles work (other then motercycles he's got those down), and John drives like every vehicle is a military jeep aka borderline indestructible and very clunky.

The entire team actually hates being called the Avengers. Most of them are hoping Sam wins the copyright case, if not sometimes doing shit to try and help the case. Bucky in particular is trying to separate them from the government.

The relationship between the team and Valentina is very much one of mutual destruction. Both sides have social and physical ammo stashed away for the second the other side turns.

On missions they usually are joking around at least a little bit but the second anyone even might be hurt they all turn into the most serious scary motherfuckers. This also applies to people they work with on occasion, like Kate.

Sometimes the group have complete mind meld moments. Like full on don't even need to say a goddamn word because the other person already knows what you're asking them to do and is on it.

One time they ran into Sam while on a secret mission and he happened to be looking rough at the time. The last two things happened and scared the shit out of him if he's being honest.

One time in an interview someone asked if they would slap one of their teammates for a hundred dollars. Bucky responded that he gets to throw John out of windows for free. Johns only response to this was a shrug.

It's generally agreed upon that Ava is the scariest person on the team. She takes this honor and title very seriously.

Bob is the king of dropping the craziest shit you have ever heard mid conversation and then moving on.

Yelena loves rock climbing, borderline could do it competitively. There's a specific rock climbing gym nearby the tower that she becomes a regular at.

Ava has a label maker but she basically never uses it to organize things. Instead using it to write out short jokes/insults and sticks them to people, walls, doors, and one memorable time the ceiling.

Ava is a Paris Paloma listener. Her favorites are Labour and The Fruits.

One time Bucky used his detached arm like a baseball bat to knock an explosive away from them. The entire rest of the team proceeded to turn to look at him like he was crazy.

Honestly they all own far too many weapons. Like entire stores worth of weapons. They're scattered literally everywhere through the main areas of the tower, their bedrooms, and on their persons. It's mainly an issue because you have no idea if when you open something there's gonna be a fucking knife or a gun in there.

It is considered a big deal(tm) if someone hands you one of their weapons. Even if it's like trading or they just don't like/use it anymore.

John is a competent engineer and could fully fix/reverse the tacoificafion of his shield. For the first few months it a matter of pride on why he doesn't just fix it but after the like third injury because he isn't working with it right they have an intervention and he gets a new one.

There have been multiple arguments that span days at a time over tea. When the topic of any kind of tea comes up John 'what do you mean you've never had sweet tea' Walker and Ava 'Do none of you own a fucking kettle' Starr do have to be separated.

As much as they all work together really well. No one is as ride or die for each other as the 4 from the vault. Do not get it twisted they fight like cats and dogs but they are the only ones allowed to do that with each other.

Bucky is still trying to convince basically the entire team that he did not kill Princess Diana.

All of them collectively truly do not know how to be normal people not a single one of them. It is. Very noticeable.

Bob is one of those guys that has too many hobbies. They worry about him getting bored when he's at the tower alone but really he now just has access to so many things to do so many more hobbies then before so he is keeping his hands busy.

A byproduct of this is that Bob actually gives so many gifts to others. A good percentage of their decor is just stuff Bob has made or found.

He's also trying to get the others into having actual hobbies that aren't things like weapons training and jumping off buildings. It's been semi successful for the most part.

Bob actually isn't all that keen on physical touch, both because he doesn't want to send people into the void and because he just really is not used to it. It takes a while for him to even get used to pats on the back.

All of them have at least been arrested in the states before. They have a bail money fund at this point cause they keep accidentally getting involved in things they should not be involved in.

The reason most people just almost automatically default to calling Bucky Bucky is because he genuinely just looks so awkward and a little uncomfortable when you call him literally anything else. Barnes is ok ish but like. If you call him James he kinda just looks at you until you like feel the need to correct yourself. This is because when he initially started to break through the mind control the first name he'd been called other then the winter soldier in 70 ish years was Bucky.

Physical touch is also a big deal for everyone, mainly cause it has so many different meanings. When Ava touches you its either her reassuring herself that she can be solid or it's checking that the person she's touching is not about to fall apart. When Bucky touches you it's either to reassure the person he's touching that he's there to help or it's him trying to keep them from doing something stupid. When Alexei touches you it's him making sure the person has a pulse by feeling it in whatever limb he's touching or he's trying to get them out of a situation he thinks is bad. Yelena also touches people to feel their pulse, but because of her lack of serum she has to do pulse points, or she's trying to help the person calm down and be reassuring to herself and them. John touches people to thank them without actually thanking them or he's trying to get their attention. Bob doesn't typically initiate touch unless it's to help someone out or to keep track of them and how they're doing.

People like to talk about the codependency between Yelena and Bob and don't get it twisted they are the most guilty and the peak of it but also that entire team is codependent as fuck. They barely function without each other, if one person were to die every one else would die in the process of getting revenge and or afterwards. They all have no sense of chill about each other no matter how much they all like to pretend otherwise.

Alexei actually likes to sketch and draw. He designed all of his tattoos and has no idea that this is something he has in common with the original Captain America.

#thunderbolts*#john walker #bucky barnes #yelena belova #alexei shostakov #ava starr #thunderbolts #new avengers #headcannons #listen i may have favorites here but you do not need to point them out #i love them all so so much #thunderbolts headcannons

104 notes · View notes