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andypantsx3 · 4 months ago

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LOADS OF FUN : TODOROKI x READER

SUMMARY: After moving into your first apartment together, Shouto seems more amorous than ever. You're not sure why—but when he comes home to you doing a load of laundry, more than your clothes are about to get tumbled. TAGS/WARNINGS: nsft (18+ only, minors please dni!), pro hero au, gn + afab reader, established relationship, fluff, emotional sex, table sex, cunnilingus, the shouto domesticity kink agenda goes absolutely crazy in this one lol (2.8k) NOTES: This piece is part of my pretty boy summer Shouto x Reader collab! Please go check out the other incredible fics people have written over the course of the summer; you will absolutely die over how good they are. This fic was also made possible through donations to the Fics for Gaza project. I cannot thank everyone who donated to one of the charities enough, as well as those who organized, reblogged, discussed, and got the word out. Lastly, I am so grateful for your immeasurable patience with me as I take time between fics to manage my workload, I hope I'm not too out of practice here lol. In summary: thank you, thank you, a million times thank you.

The sound of the door opening was hidden in the thump and glug of the washing machine starting its spin cycle.

Halfway across the house, you were oblivious—you had the clean laundry spread out on the kitchen table, hunting through the pile trying to match one of Shouto’s socks to another that seemed to have vanished into that mysterious void which opens somewhere between the laundry basket and the dryer. One of his shirts was half-folded over your shoulder, abandoned in favor of the sock search.

The rest of your things were still mostly tangled together on the table, warm and fresh and cottony, the few shirts you’d already folded sagging off the kitchen chairs.

It still gave you a little thrill—even several weeks after you’d moved in together—to see Shouto’s things twined up with yours—his enormous socks dwarfing yours, your sweaters clinging to the occasional piece of his hero suit that hadn’t seen enough action to need his agency’s industrial cleaners.

It all added to your sense of satisfaction with your afternoon—a frosty weekend day you’d spent cozy indoors, moving slowly and leisurely through some chores. A pot of soup simmered on the stove, and your favorite playlist worked itself through in lazy loops. Shouto was due off his rotation soon, and you hummed contentedly to yourself, entertaining pleased little fantasies of curling up with him for the rest of the weekend.

Which of course is when something moved in the corner of your eye. Your hum sawed up into a strangled screech, and you whipped around, flailing. Shouto’s sock launched itself full force at the intruder before you even registered you’d thrown it. In your shock, your leg caught against the table and you went stumbling—

—right into a pair of warm hands that caught you about the waist.

Your hands were on the man’s shoulders to push him off before you realized you recognized the touch—and that you’d caught sight of a distinct mop of scarlet and white hair as you’d whipped around.

“Shouto! Again?” you scolded reflexively, even as your heartbeat stuttered out of its wild kick into high gear. You tipped your head back to stare your boyfriend in the face, shoulders slumping in relief, letting him take some of your weight.

Shouto peered down at you, that tiny scrunch between his brows that indicated concern. “Are you alright, love?”

Your heartbeat pounded thunderously in your chest. “I’m—fine. But my god we need to get you a bell. I almost peed.”

Shouto’s mouth shifted minutely into something that might not have registered in anyone else’s face but was most definitely a regretful downturn on his. He looked even more unfairly beautiful than when he’d left you this morning—a little flushed and windswept from the unseasonable cold, that full mouth pink and pretty.

Your mind flicked momentarily off and back on like a circuit breaker, the way it always did when you had to process Shouto.

You’d understood he was once-in-a-generation levels of beautiful before you’d even met him, his face staring up at you from the glossy pages of various tabloids over the years. But in person, even after years of knowing him and several more dating him, Shouto’s appearance still managed to cross all the wires in a person’s brain. His features were an incomprehensible blend of aloof and elegant, sensual and warm—like a cold masterpiece of a marble sculpture had suddenly found himself with a consciousness and human desires and miles of warm skin.

“I did not mean to startle you,” he said, his voice low and warm. He sounded sincerely regretful.

You knew he hadn’t meant to—you’d long suspected his silent tread was habitually ingrained in him from years of hero work. And, in your most private and ungenerous thoughts, you suspected from years of making himself unobtrusive in his father’s home. The thought sat sour in your mouth, like a slice of pickled lemon.

You resisted making an equally sour face, shoving the thought away to make space for the reflexive flush of pleasure seeing Shouto always brought you.

“Welcome home, Sho,” you said instead, smiling up at him. Shouto’s hands moved on your waist, sliding gently beneath the hem of your tee-shirt to rest on the skin there.

He was still in his hero uniform, and as usual you felt a little goofy in comparison, in nothing but a tee and a well-loved pair of fraying sweatpants, which were this afternoon decorated with little flecks of soup from a brush with the pot.

But Shouto’s eyes were warm where they rested on you, and that perfect mouth crept back into a contented set. His long fingers smoothed over your skin as he watched you, thumb brushing your hip. He did not look like he found you at all goofy.

In fact, as his eyes dropped down to your ankles, slowly dragging back up to your face, you rather thought he looked a little appreciative. He even took a rather ungentlemanly step back, still holding you, to better take in the whole picture. His eyes wandered over the swell of your hip, the lines of the shirt against your chest, before darting to his own shirt, still folded over your shoulder.

His fingers flexed tellingly on your waist, and those heterochromatic eyes were both a little bit darker as they flicked back to yours.

His obvious regard made you feel warm. You shifted on your feet, shuffling.

“I was just—doing laundry,” you said for something to say, your mouth feeling kind of dry. Something about him always made you feel sort of shy and light-headed, even after all this time together. “And I made soup. I was thinking we could eat on the couch and watch one of those horrendous old All Might films?”

Shouto’s eyes darted to the stove, then beside you to the pile of your laundry, lingering for a long minute. His long lashes dipped, almost fluttering as his gaze traced over the tangle of your things together. His eyes flicked back to you. He was still for just a moment, watching you assessingly.

And then all of a sudden the world spun in front of your eyes. The hands at your waist lifted you clean off your feet, and you let out a startled “oof!” as you found yourself laid out in the pile of laundry on the table, sheets and sweaters bunching beneath you.

Shouto moved over you, stepping between your spread thighs, right at the edge of the table.

“You have no idea,” he intoned in a deep, delicious tone that went right down your spine, “what it is to come home to you like this.”

You wondered at that, feeling a strange combination of confusion and flattery, when Shouto’s mouth descended onto yours. His mouth was soft and sweet and insistent and absolutely perfect. The table groaned as he laid some of his weight out over you, pinning you into the laundry as he kissed you.

Your fingers clutched at him immediately, curling in his silky-soft hair, cupping his face to yours. One of Shouto’s own hands shifted to your thigh, holding you against him as he pressed himself harder into you.

You heard yourself making little gasps of appreciation as Shouto’s mouth moved down to your neck, laving hot kisses down your throat. You reveled in the feeling of him over you, broad and strong, his shoulders blocking the glow of the overhead light, casting shadows over you.

He’d been a lot like this lately, ever since you’d moved in together. He’d been adequately amorous before, of course, and blessed with a pro hero’s strength and unflagging stamina. But a few weeks after you’d moved in together you’d actually decided you needed to reactivate your gym membership given the amount of incredibly athletic sex you were suddenly having over almost every surface in the house.

One of the only spots yet to be touched was the table though, which Shouto seemed determined to rectify at this very moment.

He pulled back from you, his mouth flush from your kisses, looking a little entranced as he stepped out from between your thighs. You made a little noise at the loss of weight and heat over you, but Shouto caught the fabric of your sweatpants, gently but determinedly tugging them off of you. Your underwear was tossed right over one broad shoulder as Shouto went to his knees, and then his mouth was right back on you.

A wave of wild heat licked up your stomach at the noise of appreciation he made before sealing his mouth over you, strong fingers clutching your thighs to keep them apart.

“Oh my god!” you said, pleasure zinging right up your spine with the first lave of his tongue over you. “Shouto!”

Shouto let out a deep, pleased hum, two long fingers sinking into you embarrassingly easily as he worked your clit with his mouth. Your back arched and you could feel your clothing shift with you, Shouto’s shirt balling up under your shoulder blade, still half-draped over your shoulder.

“Oh, oh!” you heard yourself saying as your fingers twisted in the clothing, shuddering with every lick and suck of Shouto’s perfect, amazing, talented mouth.

He worked you with the expertise of long, dedicated practice—everything about him calculated to drive you insane. One moment he was excruciatingly soft, mouth slack and the touch of his tongue as fleeting and light as the brush of a butterfly’s wing. Then the next he was sucking relentlessly, teasing firmly with the tip of his tongue as his fingers played with you.

Your first climax hit you mortifyingly quickly, and Shouto seemed to know it before you did. His grip tightened on you, holding you down as you bucked against his mouth. Shouto looked more than a little smug as he got to his feet again, unbelting himself and laying back out over you.

He kissed you some more, the taste of yourself always a sort of shock to your system. But Shouto never seemed to mind, and if anything only seemed hungrier for you, mouth pulling at yours like he meant to devour you.

You felt the touch of his hand between your thighs as he lined himself up, then sank into you easily, groaning appreciatively like he’d just sunk into a hot bath. He bit carefully at your neck, one large hand pressing your stomach down to keep you pinned against the edge of the table where he wanted you.

“I always want to come home to you like this,” he intoned into the skin of your neck, his mouth sucking dizzying patterns into your skin. “Always.”

You could barely think past the slide of him inside you, thick and full and blissfully exquisite. He really was the most perfect man on earth, and he always felt like it too.

You barely managed to blink your eyes open to watch him, trying to catch his meaning in his face. Shouto watched you back, those blue and grey pinned on you like he couldn’t bear to look away from you as he moved inside you.

“You—” you panted out, trying to cling to the thoughts threatening to wiggle out of your grip. “What do you—? Of course you’ll always come home to me.”

Shouto bucked into you harder, the slap of his hip against the bottom of your thigh echoing loudly over the burble of soup on the stove. His eyelashes fluttered, mouth softening, and a realization struck you almost dizzy.

Oh, he really liked that.

You suppressed a wave of giddiness, charmed and helplessly pleased that he seemed to like the idea so much. Was that why he’d been so especially ardent this past month? Was it really because you’d moved in together?

Shouto’s arm hooked under one of your legs, drawing it up firmly over his shoulder so he could press even further inside of you. He looked so good like that that you nearly lost the thread of your thoughts, especially when his next thrust felt like that. Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head.

“Ah!” escaped you. “Fuck, Shouto. Like that, please!”

Shouto’s thumb pressed down on your still-sensitive clit and he had to dig the fingers of his other hand into the flesh of your leg to keep you from bucking him right out of you with the way you squirmed. Sweet fucking gods he was unreal.

Shouto fucked you harder, the sound of your skin slapping together obscene in the quiet of the kitchen.

You tried again, struggling to watch his reaction with the way you wanted to throw your head back and babble nonsense instead.

“You’ll always come home to me,” you repeated, gratified when Shouto’s grip on you tightened, a soft sound escaping him. “You want me right here for you?”

“Ah—yes, love,” Shouto panted, staring down at you again. He looked like he knew what you were doing but didn’t care. “Yes,” he hissed.

“Just like this?” you prompted, trying not to slur the edges of your speech when he gave another particularly mind-bending thrust of his hips. His chest rose and fell heavily and he looked a little wild-eyed, gazing down at you.

“Like this, for me,” he said. “In my home, in our home—”

You could hear the table squeal and groan with the force of his next thrust, and then you had to grip the sides of it to steady yourself as he fucked you, looking blissful. Your nails scrabbled at the edges of the table, caught in between a million sensations—the glorious fullness of Shouto inside you, the gentle grind of his thumb against your clit, the way he looked all flushed and beautiful and panting and wanting—

You squeezed your eyes shut, too overcome with the sight of him to look at him anymore, but it was no use. Your entire body trembled as you came, and Shouto let out a low swear at the way you clenched up around him, hunching over you and pressing himself so impossibly hard against you as he came too.

He slumped down against you, weighing you into the soft-smelling cotton of the laundry you were now definitely going to have to rewash. You could feel his chest rise and fall as he panted, his breath tickling the skin under your ear. He left an unbearably soft, sweet kiss just under the lobe, at odds with the near-wild way he’d just been fucking you.

You warmed, petting through his hair with a helpless affection.

“Well now I know what time I should always do our laundry,” you said.

Shouto huffed into your neck, but you could feel a tiny smile curve his mouth.

“It is not just that,” he said, but did not elaborate for some minutes until you elbowed him gently. He peeled himself off of you just enough to look down into your face. “It is the thought of our life together. Our clothes piled together. You in the home we chose and we made…” he said, trailing off.

But you thought you got the sentiment. It was about how easy it was, how uncomplicated. A safe place to come home to, no expectations, just soup and a pile of sweet-smelling laundry and someone happy to see you. It was something far away from what he'd grown up thinking a home was, possibly something he’d thought he’d never have—something you were determined to make him realize now that he always would.

You let your fingers pull through his hair again, smiling up at him. “I am going to have to do our laundry again, though,” you teased. “In case that interests you.”

And despite what he’d just said, Shouto did in fact look a little too interested. You watched his mismatched gaze trail over to the closet that opened onto the washer and dryer. A contemplative look snuck across his handsome face, carefully curling the corner of that plush mouth.

“There is another place we have not yet broken in,” he said slowly, voice dipping low. He looked down at you with an earnest expression completely in contrast to what he was suggesting.

You couldn’t help but laugh, and that was all the permission he needed to pull you up, gathering you up in his arms and layering a fat handful of laundry on top of you. His belt buckle rattled loosely beneath you where he'd barely done it up in his haste, and you laughed harder when he turned off the stove as you passed it.

Though it turned out to be a needed precaution—as neither of you found yourselves free to sit down to dinner for several hours yet.

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #shoto x reader #shoto x you #todoroki x you #todoroki x y/n #shouto x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader

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what-even-is-thiss · 2 months ago

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Ways you can volunteer when you have social anxiety

Hi, I know some of you feel motivated to organize and volunteer with the recent everything but as someone with an anxiety disorder I know the struggle. I’ve been volunteering sporadically since I was a teen and not all of it requires face to face to contact with the public. Here’s some ideas to get you started.

Cooking in kitchens and food pantries/volunteering to cook at places that have daily or weekly free or reduced cost meals like food not bombs, soup kitchens, summer or winter food trucks for low income k-12 students, religious community kitchens like at church gatherings or a Sikh langar.

Making clothing or blankets. Domestic violence shelters are often in need of these for both adults and kids. Organizations that work with foster kids are often also in need of clothing and blankets.

Contacting vendors: If you’re bad at talking to people but good at writing emails a lot of groups are in need of supplies.

Unloading trucks at stuff like food pantries and clothing drives. If possible you can request to be put in the back room or work on setup.

Just show up at the protest. Sometimes you can just stand there and be another body in the back of the crowd. That’s what I’ve done at every protest I’ve ever been in. Wear a face mask and a hat if you don’t want to be recognized. You’re sending a message just by being there.

House repair and garden planting. A lot of organizations that do this stuff will train you.

Write letters to prisoners. There’s a lot of organizations that let you do this but they’re usually specific to a local area. When I lived in Texas there was an organization that connected some classmates and I to a group of people in the local men’s prison who wanted to do a book club so we did a long distance book club with them for a few months.

After school tutoring, babysitting, religious or other types of classes for kids, etc. Some folks feel less anxious around kids and there’s plenty of opportunities to volunteer in both secular and religious capacities. You can tutor, babysit, help run classes, stuff like that. There’s also a lot of opportunities to work with foster kids without being a foster parent if that’s something you’re passionate about.

Counting money. Organizations get donations and those donations often come in the form of cash. This is the primary form of volunteer work my grandmother does for her church and some local charities. It’s a good choice if you’re someone who can’t stand for long periods of time and you’re good at basic math.

Donate blood. Yes this counts as volunteer work.

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wonderjanga · 2 months ago

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Marvel and the Street Kids

Billy likes helping people. Especially people who have, and are still going through something he’s also experienced. Hunger, brokeness, homelessness, if you’ve had to go through any of those things, Billy’s probably going to favor you more than most of the other people he’s saved. I mean, after all, he knows what all of that feels like. It’s why he helps out around soup kitchens a lot. It’s why he donates a hefty bit of his paycheck to homeless shelters and charities. It’s why he works to keep drugs off the streets, and crime at a low. He doesn’t want anyone, man, woman, or child to experience what he has. So, here’s a couple instances where he’s helping some homeless kids we know. (Btw this is the same AU as the Billy and the Robins post. In that post, basically Billy knew Dick and Jason when the two were both Robins) Roy: *in Speedy costume* “Hey Robin, who do you go to whenever you need advice?”

Robin!Jason: *in Robin costume* “Batman, why?”

Roy: “Right, cool. Cool, but what if you can’t ask him a certain question?”

Robin!Jason: “Oh, then I go to Marvel!”

Roy: “Marvel? Like Captain Marvel?”

Robin!Jason: “Yeah!”

Roy: “Huh. Uh… okay then.”

Robin!Jason: “Why do you ask?”

Roy: “No reason.”

Then, a little bit after Oliver kicked Roy out, Marvel was in Star City because Green Arrow needed him for whatever. As of now, Roy was walking down the street, upset because obviously. It’s been an about three days since he was kicked out by someone he considered his dad. All because he had a wee little problem with painkillers, and wee little problem with heroin. You’re supposed to help people who’re addicted. Especially if they’re family. You don’t just kick them out… right?

Roy: *walking down the sidewalk*

Marvel: *flying when he sees him*

Roy: *not paying attention*

Marvel: *flies down in front of him*

Roy: *bumps into Marvel* “Hey, watch where you’re goooo…wha…?” *slowly looks up until he’s craning his neck to look up at him*

Marvel: “Aren’t you GA’s boy?” *looks confused* “What’re you doing out this late?”

Roy: “What?”

Marvel: “Yeah! You’re uh…” *snaps fingers a couple times, thinking* “Speedy. Right?”

Roy: “Do I know you…?” *looks Marvel up in down*

Marvel: “Oh, my bad.” *holds hand out for handshake* “I’m Captain Marvel. I don’t think we’ve properly met.”

Roy: *doesn’t shake hand* “Well you already know me. I’m Speedy.” *shrugs*

They both talk. Marvel gets Roy to open up a bit after he gets the kid a hotdog. While they’re both sitting on a bench eating their respective hotdogs, (I saw the Marvel in civvies post and he’s wearing that exact fit. He magicked up the red sweater, the yellow hat, and the jeans so they could eat in peace) the archer remembers his conversation with Jason. So, he decides he might as well bite the bullet since his friend hyped up the guy so much.

Roy: “Hey… I gotta ask something.”

Marvel: “Hm?” *mid chew*

Roy: “You wouldn’t happen to know any good struggle meals, would you?”

Marvel: *finishes hotdog* “Yeah? I do. You wanna learn some?”

Roy: *hasn’t told Marvel about him being homeless now* “Yeah.” *takes bite of his hotdog*

Marvel: “Okie doki then.”

Roy: “You aren’t gonna ask why?”

Marvel: “It’s not really my place. Unless you want me to ask?”

Roy: “Nah, not really.” *finishes his hotdog*

Marvel: “Then I won’t.” *stands up* “Alright! To the nearest Chuck E. Cheese!” *points in a random direction*

Roy: *also stands up, raising a brow at him. Moves Marvel’s arm in the correct direction* “Why are we going to a Chuck E. Cheese?”

Marvel: “You’ll see. Cmon!” *starts jogging in the direction Roy corrected him to*

Roy: “Dude, wait up!”

When they’re now outside the Chuck E. Cheese…

Marvel: “Alright. So, here’s what you’re gon— Are you good?”

Roy: *out of breath because they just ran about three blocks* “Yeah… Yeah. I’m good. Just uh— gimme a sec.”

Marvel: *gives him until he feels better*

Roy: *looking better now* “So, what were you saying?”

Marvel: “Right, so what you’re gonna be doing is, see those tables?” *gestures to the booths through the Chuck E. Cheese’s windows. Some booths have leftover pizza and chicken wings in them*

Roy: *nods head*

Marvel: “Okay, great. So you’re gonna go steal all of that.”

Roy: *blinks at him before the most befuddled, bamboozled, puzzled expression crosses his face* “What?”

Marvel: “You’re going. To steal. All of that.” *gestures to the tables again*

Roy: *looks between Marvel and the tables* “Dude, I am not stealing scraps from the fucking Chuck E. Cheese tables.”

Marvel: “How else do you expect to get food then?”

Roy: “I don’t know! I expected you to teach me some cheap recipes or something stupid like that!”

Marvel: “Oooooooh, so you don't want struggle meals then.”

Roy: “No, I do. A struggle meal is something like a ketchup sandwich. This is way worse than a goddamn struggle meal.”

Marvel: “You and I clearly have different definitions of a struggle meal, but okay. Also, chill with the cursing, man. I can teach you something cheap if that’s what you actually want.”

Roy: “Okay then, thank you, because the day I need to steal scraps from a Chuck E. Cheese, is the day I lose my dignity.”

Marvel: “Yeah, yeah, come on. Let’s just go to a grocery store.”

Then, there was Cassandra Cain. She was homeless for about nine years before she went to Gotham when she was seventeen. During her homelessness, she never really stayed in one place. One of the places she ended up in was Fawcett when she was about sixteen. There, she met Captain Marvel. She man saved her from a mugging she was about to take care of herself.

Marvel: *staring at her because Solomon’s whispering about how she’s worthy*

Cassandra: *staring right back, picking up confusion in the man’s body language*

Marvel: “What’s your name, miss?”

Cassandra: *stares blankly at him* (Guys, this is before she learned most stuff. So she has no idea what he’s saying and has to go off of body language alone.)

Marvel: *stares back* “Can… You not speak?”

Cassandra: *continues to stare blankly*

Marvel: *sighs* “I’ll take that as a no.” *reaches into pocket dimension*

Cassandra: *startled when she sees half the man’s arm disappear*

Marvel: *pulls out some money and puts it in one of her hands* “Please take this. I can tell you don’t have a home. Starving isn’t fun.”

Cassandra: *sees understanding in Marvel’s body language and looks at the money in her hand then back at Marvel*

Marvel: *hovering off the ground* “Stay safe, miss.” *gives her a little wave before flying off*

Cassandra: *watches him go*

They meet more times after that, and soon, Cassandra ends up being one of the many homeless kids he checks up on. Cassandra comes to enjoy the man’s presence, and Marvel comes to enjoy hers as well. She eventually gets a really good read on the man after a while and he gets a good read on her. She even mimicked the man’s bodily expressions sometimes with a nod here, or a shrug there. Marvel even got to learn her name after she gestured to one of the other kids who had a cast on their leg. He guessed a couple times before he got her actual name. They ended up having to charade it, Beetlejuice style.

Marvel: “Cassie?”

Cassandra: *makes a so-so motion with her hand* (something she picked up from the man) *makes a motion that was supposed to convey it was longer*

Marvel: “Longer…?” *pauses to think for a solid 20 seconds* “Cassandra?”

Cassandra: *gives him a thumbs up* (another gesture learned from him)

Marvel: “Wait that’s actually your name?” *body language shows he’s happy he got it right*

Cassandra: *blankly stares* (Again guys, she has no clue what he’s saying)

Marvel: “Oh, this is awesome!” *body language shows he gets happier. He starts yapping about stuff*

Cassandra: *listens even though it’s all gibberish to her*

Cass liked that she could depend on someone. The man was… sunny. That’s the best way to put it. She liked listening to him talk. He never expected an answer or response. She liked that. She also liked that when she did try to respond, he was patient and did his best to try and understand her. Their friendship (sort of father daughter thing) continued until she was almost seventeen, and soon, things came to an end.

Marvel: “You’re leaving?” *body language shows concern*

Cassandra: *saw him look to the backpack stuffed with things for the trip to the next town. she nods her head*

Marvel: *body language shows disappointment for a moment before acceptance* “I see.” *gives her a warm smile* “It was nice knowing you, Cassandra.” *gives her same little wave he gave her when they first met* “I hope we get to meet again.”

Cassandra: *waves back unlike the first time they met and leaves*

They actually met again, unbeknownst to Marvel, when he was in Gotham to help Bruce with something. They got paired up together to go and do something for the mission.

Marvel: “You know, you remind me of this girl I knew from a while ago.”

Cassandra: *silence and a stare because she knows he’s talking about herself*

Marvel: “Yeah, she would’ve done that same blank stare too.”

Cassandra: *wondering how he knows she’s pulling the same face as herself*

Some goons decided to interrupt them before she could figure that out.

#billy batson #captain marvel dc #dc captain marvel #shazam #fawcett #fawcett city #fawcett comics #roy harper #speedy dc #cassandra cain #black bat #cassandra wayne #batgirl #orphan #batgirl 2000

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mionemymind · 9 months ago

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Blood Drive

Summary: While donating at a local blood drive, Y/n stumbles up the best nurse in town, Wanda Maximoff. Unable to get Wanda out of her mind, Y/n goes through a lengthy process just to ask her out.

Warnings: Fluff, Blood Donations, Passing Out, Needles, Happy Ending

A/n: Not gonna lie, I think it's somewhat getting easier to write kissing scenes but I still have to look at a tumblr post just to figure out the wording for it. Let me know what you think :)

Word Count: 4.0k

Masterlist

In an era of new politics, the Mayor of New York City declared that registered heroes of the city had to do mandated community service. This was a new mission to help build relationships between the regular folk of New York City and the heroes that harbor it. Because let’s be honest, having Hulk throw your new car at the enemy was not the best introduction for regular people.

Those who harbored powers relaying force or strength helped out in the trade industry. You’d often see super soldiers helping out in the demolition zone by crushing what was needed. Those with magic tried their best to help heal the homeless or aided at soup kitchens. Anywhere you can unconventionally help, the heroes did.

For Y/n, it was a lot of physically demanding tasks. Such as helping families move from apartment to apartment. Or helping police officers move accidents out of the way. Sometimes, she would even demonstrate how to safely carry a person through a burning building for the local firefighters.

Today, however, Y/n decided to do something different. Rather than focusing on the same physical tasks, she chose a simpler mundane task. “Hi there, are you here for the blood drive?” Y/n nodded in agreement to the receptionist upfront. “Just sign in for me right here. Have you filled out the online rapid pass?”

“Yes, I have the QR code screenshotted.” The receptionist smiled warmly. “Perfect. Someone will be with you soon. Please have a seat in our waiting area.”

Y/n walked towards the waiting room area. This was the fourth thing on her list of community service opportunities to try. She wasn’t quite sure if her blood was even allowed to be donated, having the super soldier serum in her surely could cause a reaction to a regular human.

After some tests back at the compound, the staff found everything to be okay. That’s how Y/n ended up in a place like this.

“Y/n Y/l/n.” Getting up from her seat, Y/n followed a nurse in red scrubs to a different area. “How are you today?”

“I’m good. I'm a little nervous. I’ve never done this before.” The nurse led them to a private part of a huge common room. Multiple stations were built throughout with various people donating blood. “It’s okay to be nervous, but the worst feeling you’ll get today is just a small prick.”

Y/n breathed out slightly in relief. “Let me first get your basic information.” The nurse had gone over Y/n’s personal information but was immediately flagged by the date of birth. “It says you were born on April 2, 1917. It must’ve been a typo.”

The nurse almost changed it to 1971. “Actually ma’am, that is the correct birth date.”

“So you mean to tell me you were born during World War I?” The nurse was unwilling to believe the joke that was being played. Y/n could immediately tell from the look she gave. “It was the Great War at the time, but yes ma’am I was born in 1917. I’m actually a super soldier.”

The nurse went back to her computer and typed in more information to store on Y/n’s file. “Ah - I see. I’m sorry about that. There’s already a note on your file. It looks like your director has already approved your donation today.”

Y/n sighed in relief, while she didn’t mind explaining to people her situation of being frozen for so long, it was strenuous trying to get them to understand it all. The rest of the consultation went along smoothly as she gathered the remaining information such as Y/n’s hemoglobin and her rapid pass.

“Alright dear, let’s get you to a bed.” The nurse led them back to the common area where all the beds were laid out. “Just sit right here for me, right now we currently have a special volunteer today that’s helping out with the drive. She’ll come over in a couple of seconds to help you out. But if you have any questions, please feel free to let us know.”

Y/n sat up on the reclined bed and looked at her phone. She scrolled through her messages to make sure nothing important was happening. The sound of someone clearing their throat gained her attention. “Y/n?” As Y/n looked up, she could physically feel the moment that time stopped again. Was it possible that she fell back into the ice again? Surely she would feel the same numbness as before. But it was all different. Because from just one look from this girl would be enough to melt all the ice away.

Y/n’s breath hitched as she locked eyes with her. “I- yes, that’s me.” Y/n cleared her throat, embarrassed at the lack of composure she had.

“Nice to meet you today. My name is Wanda Maximoff and I’ll be helping you with your blood donation today.” All Y/n could do was nod as she further realized that the woman in front of her was the Scarlet Witch.

Wanda looked through her notes on the clipboard. “It looks like it’s your first time donating, is that true?” Y/n’s eyes remained locked on Wanda. It was embarrassing how much she couldn’t look away. “Uh yes. It is.”

“Do you have a preference on which arm you would like to use today?” Y/n shook her head in disagreement. “No preference at all.”

Wanda wrote down more information when a note caught her eye. “S.H.I.E.L.D. approval - are you a member?” Wanda looked over at the young girl in front of her trying to see if she could remember the pretty face.

“I’m one of their new recruits. Only been active for three months.” And suddenly, Y/n seemed to never mind all the questions that Wanda could possibly ask. If it meant talking to her, Y/n would oblige.

“That’s great to hear. If you don’t mind me asking, do you have any powers that we should be aware of?”

“Well, I think you’re aware of my counterpart, Bucky Barnes. We both have a super soldier serum.” Wanda smiled at the mention of her old teammate/acquaintance.

“Interesting. How come I haven’t heard about you before?” Wanda couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow she had managed to miss this girl for three months.

Y/n scratched the back of her neck sheepishly. “You know how Steve was found in ice right?” Wanda nodded. “That’s basically the same situation I was in but rather than crashing into the arctic, I was in a freezer chamber. I’ve been awake for only ten months.” The shock on Wanda’s face was apparent.

“Sorry to keep asking,” Y/n never minded, “how has it been like adjusting back to the new life?” Y/n shrugged indifferently.

“A little rough. I do miss my friends back from my time, but Bucky has been trying his best to help me. However, he has been focused on helping the new Captain America, Sam?”

Wanda nodded, confirming that Y/n’s information was correct. “I do enjoy the fact that I’m no longer Hydra’s soldier though. More than anything, I’m just glad to have a second chance in life. Not a lot of people get that so I’m pretty thankful.”

Wanda digested Y/n’s words and was pretty enlightened at Y/n’s outlook on life. “Thank you for answering all my questions.”

“It’s no problem.”

“Now, let's get you set up to donate.” Wanda proceeded to bring out a couple of items from the nearby stand. On the table beside Y/n, Wanda placed various tubes and empty bags. Although it was nothing, the sight made Y/n feel slightly uncomfortable. It reminded her too much of Hydra’s labs but minus the dark atmosphere and torture that came with it.

As if sensing her discomfort, Wanda grabbed a disinfectant and started to disinfect Y/n’s left arm around the area inside her elbow. “Ya know, for being so nice and cooperative. How about you ask me a couple of questions? It makes the day go by faster.”

Bringing herself out of her internal thoughts, Y/n asked the first thing that came to mind. “You’re the Scarlet Witch, right?”

It was Wanda’s turn to blush. She hadn’t expected Y/n to recognize her so quickly, especially since she just got back to the real world. “I am.”

“I wasn’t aware that you could help with the American Red Cross as part of your community service.” Wanda grabbed a marker and a squeezable toy. She placed the toy in Y/n’s left hand stating, “Give me three big squeezes and hold on the last squeeze.”

While pressing around Y/n’s elbow, she continued with, “I had to do some training to get qualified. A lot of the people who use magic generally help in other areas.” Wanda marked a dot followed by a line. “You can stop squeezing now.”

“I’m gonna disinfect one more time and then I’ll have to poke you. Are you scared of needles?” Feeling more embarrassed, Y/n looked away as she said, “Yes.”

“All good. Just means I’ll have to give you a small distraction.” Wanting to distract herself even more, Y/n asked, “Why did you decide to do this rather than something in your wheelhouse?”

Wanda thought about it before replying with, “I like the normalcy of it. On the plus side, it feels more rewarding. Like I’m actually earning my community time rather than going the easy way of using my powers.” As Wanda finished disinfecting, she blew on Y/n’s elbow hoping it would dry fast.

“When I give you the go-ahead, I’ll have to ask you to give me three more squeezes and hold on to the last one, okay?” Y/n nodded and waited for the signal.

“And - go.” Y/n did as told, but as she did her last squeeze and held, red wispy magic flowed in front of her morphing into swirls in the air. “Woah.” She followed the magic with her eyes, not even noticing that Wanda had already poked her and started the transfusion.

“Should be about 10 minutes. Every couple of seconds give the toy a small squeeze to keep it going.” Y/n glanced away from the magic amazed with Wanda. “That didn’t even hurt.” For the first time in Y/n’s life, she didn’t scream when the needles came.

Wanda couldn’t help but keep the magic up for a little longer. The dopey look on Y/n’s face was something she didn’t want to go away.

“I told you I would distract you.” Y/n was at a loss of words. Her brain jumbled for anything but all she could focus on was that Wanda Maximoff successfully distracted her. She had a natural caring heart, something the media failed to show.

“Your magic is beautiful by the way.” Y/n savored the last few seconds of it before it completely disappeared.

Wanda’s magic has been called many things in life, powerful, destructive, and manipulative but none have ever said beautiful…till now. “Thank you Y/n.”

There was a small silence as Wanda stayed to make sure Y/n was okay. “I’ll be assisting other volunteers, but if you start to feel like you're fainting, just call me over, okay?”

“I will.” Would it have been wrong to immediately fake an injury just to get Wanda back? Possibly but Y/n weighed the consequences and none could compare to her. So as Wanda left, Y/n used her free hand to call Bucky. After a couple of rings, he picked up the phone. “Hey, Y/n.”

Getting straight to the point, “Is Wanda Maximoff single?”

“Uhh - I think so. She and this synthezoid, Vision, used to date but I believe they broke up a year ago. Why do you ask?” Y/n looked at Wanda who was across the room. Her radiant smile could be spotted from miles away. “Just wanting to gather intel. Thanks Bucky.”

Y/n hung up the phone, not caring about what Bucky had to say back. Her eyes lingered back to Wanda. No matter how much she distracted herself with her phone, her eyes always glanced back on Wanda Maximoff. Her hair was tied up in a high ponytail and all she wore was matching red scrubs. But everything about her looked and felt beautiful.

Little did Y/n know, Wanda was admiring her too.

The blood donation was soon over, quicker than Y/n anticipated. Wanda had already come over, stopped the machine, and disconnected the line from Y/n’s arm. She taped a cotton ball on top of the area she poked and proceeded to wrap a red bandage around Y/n’s elbow. “You keep this red bandage on for two hours and the cotton ball for four hours.”

Wanda grabbed a pamphlet that had Y/n’s personal information and gave it to her. “Don’t miss a single meal for the next eight weeks. Make sure to drink plenty of water as well. If you feel dizzy in the next couple of hours, be sure to call this number, okay?”

Y/n nodded. Her mind was elsewhere at the moment, trying to find ways to ask Wanda Maximoff out. “Do you have any questions for me though?”

Y/n opened her mouth, wanting to ask her, “Are you busy after this?” But nothing came out. And the more she tried to say words, the more silence that remained.

“Wanda!” The pair turned to the employee that shouted her name. “I have someone that needs your help after you're done with your current volunteer.”

“Understood.” Wanda looked back at Y/n. “We have snacks and shirts over there but I think you should be good now. Thank you for donating today.”

As Wanda walked off, Y/n couldn’t help but beat herself up for not asking. She took a couple snacks and juice boxes before walking out of the donation center.

Was Y/n in love? Not quite yet. Infatuated? Probably. It was the best explanation as to why she was back at the blood drive the very next day. The brown eyed girl paced around all night trying to think of ways to see Wanda again. And the very first realistic idea she thought of was to donate blood again.

The super soldier practically begged the compound to give her another approval to donate blood stating that her super serum allowed for faster recovery. When no one could argue with her logic, they allowed a special approval to donate so soon.

So when Y/n followed all the same directions, all the same questions, she was met with disappointment when she didn’t see the redhead that captured her mind. “Hi, my name is Lucy and I’ll be helping you today.”

As Lucy proceeded to set up, Y/n couldn’t help but ask, “Is Wanda Maximoff here today?”

The blonde shook her head with a small smile. “I’m sorry dear. She’s not going to be here today.” Y/n couldn’t hold back the frown that escaped. It was stupid to think that Wanda would come back the very next day, but she had hope.

And as much as Y/n wanted to ask when she’ll be back, she knew the blood center wouldn’t give out information like that. Regardless, Y/n was determined. She was going to see Wanda again.

It was a new month and a new day. Although Y/n was glad to help a good cause, her hope waned as each day passed with no Wanda. By now, everyone in the blood center knew Y/n by name. On the bright side, the other volunteers were not bad to talk to but none compared to her.

So as Y/n sat down once again, she scrolled on her phone, expecting much disappointment. Until the voice that captured her heart called her name. “Y/n?”

She looked up from her phone and saw that familiar smile that was ingrained in her head. “Wanda.” Y/n couldn’t hold her smile back as she finally saw the girl that she’s been begging to see.

“Looks like you’re here for you…18th donation? Look at you being a star citizen.” Y/n blushed knowing that those donations were mainly for something else. “I think by now you should know the drill. Are there any concerns you may have?”

Wanda looked back at Y/n, ready to disinfect her arm. “I-” Y/n’s brain short circuited at the feeling of Wanda’s hands on her arm. It was like everything that she wanted to say suddenly left her brain. But the feeling was just on the tip of her tongue.

“You know, they should give you a badge or something for donating so much. I didn’t even know that was possible. Didn’t you start donating like last month?” Again, not a single thought formulated in Y/n’s head when all she could focus on was how soft Wanda’s hands were. Because if Y/n was able to focus, she would be able to say that her donation was 17 days, 13 hours, and 5 minutes ago. But who was counting?

Wanda looked back at Y/n’s chart to confirm her suspicions. “Are you still scared of needles though?” And that’s when Y/n finally got back into the real world. For all the times she’s been back, she’s had to look away from the needle while using a nearby pillow to control her nerves.

“I think I might need your magic again.” Y/n blushed at the request but felt proud at the smug look that came from Wanda. “I might have to start charging you for the show.”

With sudden blind confidence, Y/n asked, “Let me take you out on a date in return.” Wanda almost missed the vein at Y/n’s sudden question. She had an inkling that the girl liked her but never expected her to actually pursue her thoughts.

“You didn’t even need it.” Y/n looked down and saw that Wanda had poked her without realizing it.

“Does that mean you won’t go?” Wanda looked at the time on the clock and smiled at Y/n.

“It actually means you have three hours till my shift is up.” Wanda patted Y/n’s arm, reminding her to squeeze the ball in her hand. “So pick me up then. How should I dress?”

“Something casual. I hadn’t really planned out what I was going to do after you said yes.” Wanda blushed at the idea of Y/n practicing this moment.

“How about this? You and I walk around New York. I don’t think the guys have given you much of a good tour. So I’ll tell you all about the new New York and you tell me about the old New York.”

“You have a deal.”

Wanda and Y/n were in the back seat of an uber. The small date was something Y/n never wanted to end but the lack of energy made it hard to keep up. So when Y/n asked if it could be an early night, she was relieved that Wanda wasn’t mad at her.

Right now, the uber was at a stoplight and the two hardly spoke as their shoulders touched.

“Can I hold your hand?” Y/n whispered as she lightly placed her hand above Wanda’s. The small smile was hard to miss on Wanda’s face. She could feel Y/n’s internal battle to ask her that. She leaned into Y/n’s ear and whispered, “You don’t even have to ask,” and pressed a small kiss on Y/n’s cheek as they interlaced hands.

A small blushed and a wide grin appeared on Y/n’s face. “I hope you had fun today.” Looking away, Y/n yawned into her hand.. “You tired dekta?”

Looking back at her, Y/n tilted her head in confusion. “Dekta? What does that mean?” Wanda blushed more. She hadn’t meant to call Y/n that, but it left her lips so easily. Like it was second nature.

“I’ll tell you later,” Wanda placed her left hand on Y/n’s bicep and gave it a small squeeze, “Aren’t you supposed to be a super soldier? It's barely past 10 pm and you’re already tired.” Y/n scratched the back of her neck, slightly embarrassed at how tired she was. But all Wanda could focus on was the feeling of Y/n’s muscles as she gave one more squeeze.

Y/n yawned again, unable to fight the sleep that took over her body. “It’s what happens when you donate blood every day to try and see a pretty girl.” They hadn’t even kissed but Wanda could’ve sworn she was in love. The dopey smile on Y/n’s face would make any girl’s heart melt. The red head mentally thanked that it was her that Y/n was looking at and nobody else.

“You did that for me?” Y/n could think of many things she would do for Wanda, rescue a billion people, punch a hole in the moon, even kidnap someone. Regardless of how unrealistic it was, Wanda Maximoff was worth changing the tides on Earth. So how could someone so wonderful could ever question that someone would do something for her attention?

“I wanted to see you again.” Y/n bit her inner cheek, trying her best to stay calm but all she could think about was how soft Wanda’s lips looked.

The red head hadn’t meant to hear that thought, but she was glad she did. She bit her lip wishing that Y/n would just kiss her already. But something about the way they stared into each other's eyes was already enough for her to feel alive. And for someone so sober, her body grew drunk at the touch of Y/n.

“So you donated blood to see me?” It was still all unbelievable to Wanda but Y/n would tell her a million times until she believed it.

Their eyes interlocked causing Wanda’s breathing to hitch. She swore she could look into those brown eyes forever. “18 pints and counting.” Y/n couldn’t hold back her grin as Wanda looked away, unable to hold back her wide smile.

Y/n gave a gentle squeeze in their interlaced hands as Wanda turned back to face Y/n. “You’re gonna get yourself sick if you keep donating.” Wanting to focus on something else, Y/n caressed Wanda’s cheek as she tucked a loose strand back.

Not wanting her touch to go away, Wanda placed her hand above Y/n’s. So many thoughts ran through both of their heads. Wanda could feel the weight inside Y/n’s mind but didn’t dare to peak.

“Tell me what you’re thinking…”

“...I think you’re really pretty,” Y/n admitted in secret.

“What else?” Y/n rubbed her thumb gently across Wanda’s cheek.

“I think I want to take you out on a second date.”

“Oh yeah?”

“And I…I think I want to kiss you.” Wanda swallowed all the nerves in her chest.

“...I’d really like that…” And as brown eyes looked at greens eyes one more time, Y/n slowly leaned in and kissed Wanda. There was no rush with each kiss, something Wanda never experienced before. All she could remember was the sloppy kisses and fast make outs. But something about kissing Y/n slowly drove heart mad because how dare she live this long without being kissed like this.

And as they kissed, their hands never broke apart, instead, they gave gentle squeezes with every kiss. And when slowly pulled apart, Wanda knew then she was love sick.

Bonus

“Let me get this straight,” Bucky rubbed his forehead, feeling the headache coming forth, “Y/n passed out from kissing you?”

“Well, the kissing didn’t help but she also donated 18 pints of blood in the last three weeks.” Wanda looked at Y/n’s sleeping figure. Her head rested comfortably on Wanda’s lap.

Bucky sighed. “Okay, I’ll meet you at her place.”

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l0vergirlwrites · 5 months ago

Text

hold steady ; steve harrington

synopsis: life has hit you hard since the events of spring break. but the softness of steve reminds you that you’re not alone, & that you shouldn’t be ashamed for how you’re handling everything.

warnings: post-season 4 setting, descriptions of grief & guilt, mental health issues & trauma, written with fem!reader in mind (but can apply to other identities too)

inspired by role model’s song “so far gone” feat. lizzy mcalpine!

you’re being dramatic you internally told yourself in the mirror, trying to make yourself believe the statement.

you weren’t sure what time it was. it felt like you were in limbo; somewhere between midnight & sunrise. the house was quiet aside from the soft hum of the cold air passing through the vents. you tried making the sound of it louder in your head in hopes it’d ground you. but it wasn’t working.

so you continued to stand in the bathroom with the nightlight plugged into the wall, staring at yourself in the mirror’s reflection. you couldn’t get over how different you looked now in comparison to who you were before spring break. something inside you seemed to have died a bit more than last summer, & you could tell from whatever aura you were emitting.

you had originally came in to wash your face after one of your bad dreams; to remind yourself that you’re in the present & you’re safe & that the past can’t hurt you anymore—at least that’s what your therapist wants you to do, but it doesn’t help as much as you wished it would. you just hoped the sound of the sink running wouldn’t have woken steve up.

he’s been in a bad place like you, despite how hard he’s working to help rebuild hawkins. with soup kitchens, garage & yard sales, donation boxes littered at every street corner, & community programs that have emerged since hawkins was practically ripped apart, steve’s been doing what he can to help. you know steve’s good heart, so you weren’t surprised with how involved he’s been. but you also know how his tiredness has been eating him alive, interfering with his sleep & energy when he’s home. tonight was the first night he feel asleep at before eleven pm, & you wanted to keep it that way.

if crying in the bathroom while clutching the counter meant that steve could continue sleeping without having to help someone else when he needs rest, you’d do it.

luckily most of your crying was silent except when the occasional hiccup or whimper escaped your lips. you tried keeping it together, but it was hard—holding it all in. the weight on your chest was excruciating, but you’ve been through this so much since spring break so you knew you could handle it.

you just needed to hold onto the counter tighter to stay upright & it would pass, right?

moments later, when another shaky breath was exhaled, you could hear a door creak open from the hallway, footsteps padding slowly along the soft cream carpet flooring, getting closer to where you were.

“y/n/n?” you heard a groggy voice say from behind the door, in search of you.

you tried staying quiet, hoping he’d just go back to bed because you didn’t want to talk about it, but you knew he wouldn’t. steve insisted he slept better with you beside him.

“ya’in there?” he asked, his bent index & middle fingers knocked on the door gently.

you closed your eyes shut, feeling the weight on your chest pang heavier. “i-i’ll be back in a minute” you said as clear as you could, but the strain in your voice wasn’t convincing.

steve knew you, & sometimes you hated it.

“can i… can i come in?” he hesitated, afraid of scaring you away.

you didn’t have to say anything because you knew he’d come in aways, finding you with your head hung low & knuckles white from your grip on the counter.

he didn’t have to say anything either as he came closer, his warm touch infiltrating your space as you felt his chest press into your spine, head nuzzling into your shoulder while his arms wrapped around your stomach. the feeling of him made you choke out a sob. you felt like you didn’t deserve his sweetness (your brain was lying to you)

“you don’t have to do this alone. unless you want to” he mumbled into your shoulder, treading carefully because he knew your pain all too well. it’s a hard thing to navigate & he doesn’t want you to feel cornered.

you shivered, tensing up again until you reminded yourself that it’s just steve, that he loves you, that you don’t need to hide—but it just feels like the opposite.

“i know” you said unevenly, breathing in but whimpering when your chest tightened uncomfortably. “everything is just… hard” was the best way you could put it.

steve nodded against you, kissing your shoulder as a way to tell you that he knows, that he hears you.

“i don’t want to feel this way forever” you cried, head dropping low again as your eyes pinched shut. “i just want to go back to before so badly. w-we don’t deserve this—all the shit we’ve dealt with—it’s so unfair” you begin to shake, chest raising up & down with a little more speed than before. the scars of your body burned with each passing second, as if they were fresh from the claws of demo dogs & demo bats—flashes from the past you wish wouldn’t play in your brain.

with tears blurring your sight, you didn’t fight it when steve peeled your hands away from the counter, when he turned you to face him, or when he pulled you tightly to his chest, letting your face press into the crook of his neck & your hands bunch up the material of his t-shirt.

“i know, baby. we shouldn’t have gone through it. it isn’t fair at all” steve agrees, shutting his eyes & letting out a shaky sigh into your hair because he feels the same way.

he feels the same anger & frustration & emptiness that you do. hell, he knows the whole party does too. it’s just how it is.

steve lets you cry as much as you need, lets you grip his back to hold steady & dampen his t-shirt because it helps remind him that you’re still here, that you didn’t face the fate that many others did during spring break & long before. that he still has you to love & work through the mass amounts of grief & fear that are still embedded inside you both.

“i’m sorry for waking you up” you sniffled loudly. “i know you’re exhausted”.

“don’t be. y’needed me. i sensed it” he mainly said the last bit to make you scoff, laugh or anything of the sort. but it was true—he swore he had a sixth sense for you.

lifting your head back, brushing the tear stains from your eyes with the backs of your hands, steve rubbed your back with his finger pads. he knows that it’s calming for you. “i dunno what’s wrong with me” your lips frowned as you looked at him, his eyes shining a tiny bit from the nightlight. he began to frown too at your statement.

“i feel like i can’t get back to normal. l-like i’m broken—can’t move on like everyone else is…” you admitted, trying to find comfort in steven’s repetitive touches.

“you’re not broken,” steve started, moving a hand to hold your cheek, thumb smoothing against your skin. “you’re just healing. & no one expects you to be fine—i’m sure as hell not” he assured you, heart melting when you leaned into his hand.

opening your mouth to speak, the words won’t come out, as if they were stuck in your throat. so steve continued.

“what you went through…,” his bottom lip trembled at the thought, memories of all the blood & screaming & fear racing back. “you didn’t deserve any of it. i-if i could take that pain away, i would—in a heartbeat. b-but i can’t” his tone sounded defeated.

“i wish i could take yours away too” you breathed out, raising one of your hands up to run through his hair.

there was always a part of steve that blamed himself for what you went through. you had a part of you that felt the same thing.

“you always tell me that things take time—that as each day goes by, we’ll feel a little less hurt, a bit stronger than before,” he looked deep into your eyes, leaning his head closer to yours. “we just have to believe it. even if it feels like a lie sometimes” you nodded your head in agreement.

collapsing back into steve’s chest, you smiled a bit when you felt his cheek press into your hair. “i hope me talking about my shit isn’t like weighing you down, you know? ‘cause i know you have your own stuff—��

“hey, hey, hey,” he pulled you back, both of his hands holding your face now. “none of that, okay? i want you to talk to me about this stuff—about anything you feel. i don’t hide from you, so you don’t gotta hide from me” he said sweetly but firmly, kissing your forehead before you could blink.

you couldn’t control the tears that brimmed your eyes, or the shaky sigh that left your lips at his words. you felt extremely lucky.

“i think i’m gonna need you to remind me of that sometimes. is that okay?” you asked, hands resting atop of steve’s chest while his brushed more of your tears away. the pain in your chest didn’t fully disappear, but it was better than nothing.

“i’m more than okay with that” he smiled, pulling your face closer to his so he could kiss you, hoping it could melt away some of your pain for the night.

not long after, steve led you back to bed, just like you did for him the other night when he too had a meltdown. he pulled you to his chest when you both had settled under the comforter, your breath fanning his neck as you shut your eyes, trying to focus on the good & not the bad.

“i love you” you whispered in the dark, pressing a kiss to the skin of his collarbone.

he felt his heart skip a beat. “i love you too”.

#l0vergirlwrites💌#steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington imagine #steve stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #stranger things fanfic #stranger things netflix #joe keery #joe keery imagines #joe keery fanfiction

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balkanradfem · 16 days ago

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Whimsical adventures with my Nepali roommate

So one day I come home from work, get into the bathroom, and realize while I'm in there that I'm being called, and that someone is at the door. I get out to find my roommate talking at tge door to a guy I've never seen before, and they're both smiling. I ask her if that's her friend, and he clarifies that no, he's here to promote Hare Krishna. I immediately put my guard up; I'm not about to be dragged into another religion, but she's smiling at him, taking books from him, he's explaining to her that she needs those books and they are 'a path towards her', meanwhile when he offers them to me, I politely say 'I'm not interested', and try to move on with my day.

They're still chatting at the door, and she tries to take one of the book and go, but he stops her, asking for a donation, but in a very evasive language, which she didn't understand. I then interjected to explain to her that the books aren't actually free, even though he's handing them around as if they were; she'd have to give some money to him, but she can decide how much. When she realized what I was saying, she immediately turned to him and said 'I don't have any money', to which he decided to try me, and started asking me if I could lend her, saying I needed this book too. I said no thank you, I have it all figured out. He asked if I was joking, in disbelief. I didn't comment, and then he asked me directly 'What's the meaning of life? What is the purpose of being alive?' and I replied 'Each of us gets to choose our own', and he did not like that answer, and immediately attacked it with 'but that's an illusion', and I already had enough of this guy so I told him to not waste his time and sent him on his merry way. I find it rude that anyone would doubt I understand the meaning of life; I've spent years figuring it out!

My roommate was emabarassed for not figuring out that the guy was selling religion, but I reassured her it's alright, she just moved in here, she couldn't have known that people are fake-selling books around the place. I later looked into Hare Krishna, because they've been around a lot recently, and found their religion is a hinduist one, connected to reincarnation and featuring 'levels of consciousness', but reading on it turns out they believe in one guy who is the holy person and beginning of all life, and I understood it was just another sexist scam religion like all the rest, stealing credit from female creators.

Few days later, roommate called me up to come to kitchen, and proposed she'll make lunch for both of us. I had already eaten, but I didn't want to refuse such a great invitation, so I replied yes and was excited to try some of her food! She had a pressure-cooker which made a lot of hissing noises and scared me, and she used some cooking techniques I've never seen before.

She made a soup by putting red lentils into water, adding spices, adding salt, and then she put the entire thing to pressure cook. Then, she minced some garlic, put some oil in the pan, and sauteed the garlic. When it started smelling delicious, she grabbed half of the oil and all of the garlic, and added it into the soup! I knew it was possible to infuse oil with garlic like that, but had never made a soup in that order; it was a delicious soup. Then she added some mushrooms and tomatoes into the pan that still had garlic-infused oil in it, and made a sauce to eat with the rice.

When we got to eat, I asked her which utensils she likes to use, unsure if Nepali people used chopsticks at all, (which I own and love to use like a little weaboo) and she replied none, she eats with fingers! I laughed because that sounds so freeing and fun and she indeed, ate the entire lunch with her fingers; I've never seen that! So tempting to try, but I also love utensils and not having to wash my hands after lunch. Her food was great; it was so different and yet delicious, tasted like nothing I've ever eaten before.

Since my roommate is so nice I haven't been that much on guard about hiding how mentally ill I am, and she picked up that I'm overly tired and have awful blood pressure, because I collapsed in the corridor when she called me up to help her with something. She was immediately on this, suggesting I need to go to the doctor, and I tried to explain it's just blood pressure. But now she's looking at me suspiciously all the time. Today she offered to get me medicine when she noticed I'm lightheaded, and then suggested that I don't drink enough water 'All you drink is tea!' and I insisted that tea is water, while also sitting down so I don't fall again. She then ran off and brought me a handful of walnuts and hazelnuts and told me to eat those. She also left me some soup in the fridge.

Feeling embarassed with myself now; I should be having things figured out and offering her medicine and food, and instead she's appointed herself a doctor and a pharmaceut to me. She also brought me a few mandarines the other day and I said I'd make lunch for her tomorrow. I'm not used to roommates being that nice! I would usually get dirty looks for being a mess.

On the other note I have no idea what to do for lunch; I have some green lentils and dry peas and carrots and potatoes so maybe a soup? Her meal was so good I am certain to look bad next to her but, I can handle that, I can be the worse cook, it will make her more confident and that's like a win for everyone.

#roommate stories #personal #diary blog post #trying nepali food #nice roommate

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northern-passage · 2 months ago

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hi. sending you all the love i can muster. thank you for your stories. northern's mc is my wet pathetic fursona and your vampires ladies are the moonlight in my very dark mental night.

hi. i've been offline a bit for various reasons but i wanted to respond to this and i've been trying to articulate my thoughts and feelings in a way that's productive and understanding.

obviously as a very visible gay person in the south i get it, but i want to emphasize that for the past year, we've all watched the US gleefully partake in genocide. i feel uncomfortable with this sentiment that only now it's scary; i've been scared for quite a long time, actually.

but this fear-mongering that's happening right now is insidious. i don't mean to pretend like nothing's happening, but to act like it's all over is childish at best and actively malicious at worst. to have spent this past year advocating and speaking up against genocide alongside so many others, to have witnessed the hard work so many people have done the last 12+ months (to have watched this genocide basically streamed straight to my phone!) as well as working to combat the racism and misogyny in this country just for people to act like now is the end pisses me off, to be frank. yes things will be harder and uglier, this is undeniable and i'm not trying to minimize any of that, but we cannot just ignore the reality that the worst was already happening; the violence has already been here before trump and it would have continued even without him.

do what you have to do and keep it pushing. go to gaza funds and gaza soup kitchen and donate and boost gfms when you can. look for ways to get directly involved online or in your city. pay attention to what's happening around you, at your school board, at your workplace, at your local library. if you've been privileged enough that you only now feel fear about what's happening, then use that privilege to boost the voices of the most vulnerable among us (and take a long look in the mirror and reflect about why it's taken you this long to show up). and understand that it never has been, and there is never going to be a point where it's "over."

#ask #anonymous

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robinsegghead · 6 months ago

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Danny's Daycare Part 2

[Master List]

The first few days that the daycare was technically ‘open’ he didn’t have a single kid. This was to be expected, Danny was an unknown for the most part, people didn’t trust him, even the people he’d met who mentioned considering it were right to be wary. But they would grow to trust him. He’d been volunteering at soup kitchens, leaving fliers in mailboxes and doorsteps, and spent a great deal of time in public spaces so that people would know who he was, and hoped Lady Gotham would maybe sway her people to trust him a bit.

On the Thursday after opening, things changed.

He was sat at his desk doing an ungodly amount of paperwork (being a king was not in fact, a sweet deal), when he heard the door open.

A young Latina woman carrying a bundle in her arms walked in warily.

“Hi.” Danny smiled brightly, reigning in his excitement so as not to scare the woman off.

She looked around for a moment, stopping quite a ways away from his desk. “Is this the daycare?”

He nodded. “It is. Pretty new so I don’t have any kiddos yet, but I can be patient.” He was, in fact, a liar.

“I don’t have a lot.”

He shook his head. “Oh, you misunderstand,” He knew nobody liked being a charity case, especially not Gothamites, so he went with the lie he and Jazz had come up with when he first started. “this daycare is sponsored by a very wealthy anonymous donor, it’s completely free.”

She eyes him skeptically. “I wouldn’t come here if I wasn’t desperate.” Ouch. But fair. “I got called in for a shift but my husbands at work and their abuela’s out of town.” She hesitated, looking between her kid and Danny.

“Well, that’s what I’m here for. I can show you around if you have time?” He offered, hoping his openness would comfort her. She nodded firmly and he moved towards the double doors to their right. “Okay, so this is the main room, we’ve got toys, books, and coloring materials, brand new donations.” She took it in slowly. “We’ve got bathrooms right over there, a cafeteria through those doors, and a room for naps on the other side of the entryway, I’m planning on installing a playground after the worst of winter is over, and this,” he handed her his card. “is my information. Feel free to look me up, run a background check, whatever you need to do to feel comfortable leaving your kid with me.”

Skepticism was obvious on her face. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do this? What do you gain?”

He shrugged. “I like to be helpful. I’m paid reasonably. It’s my job. Take your pick.”

Another question seemed to be forming when her phone went off. “Shit.” Gently setting her child down -it looked like a boy- she checked it. “I have to go. Emilio,” She crouched in front of the boy. “Mama has to go to work, papa will be here to pick you up in a few hours, behave.”

He gave another smile, hoping it made him look innocent and trustworthy.

“My husband will be by to pick him up by three, Emilio is four, fully potty-trained, and likes reading. He ate an early lunch before we came here so don’t feed him.” Her tone was serious, and he nodded resolutely. “I….” She looked torn.

Offering a gentler smile, he crouched down. “Hey Emilio, my name’s Danny, I heard you like reading?” The little boy nodded, his black curls falling in his wide eyes. “Lucky for you, I have a whole shelf of brand-new books, you wanna give them a look?” The little boys’ eyes widened, and he nodded.

As Emilio looked over the shelves of books, Danny reassured the mother. “I’ll look after him, don’t worry, he will be safe with me.”

That was the beginning of Danny’s Daycare. He wouldn’t pretend everything went smoothly after that. It was another two weeks before Emilio’s mother (Ana) brought him back and another week before anyone else dropped their kids off. Jazz helped him create the necessary paperwork to have filled out by parents about their kids and he was able to get important information about each of them which he promptly memorized.

The daycare had been open for two months (to the day) and Danny had three regular kids. Emilio, who was four, loved reading, and wasn’t shy, Clara, who was a little blonde spitfire, five years old, and had claimed the trainsets as ‘hers’, and Booker, Danny had fondly nicknamed him ‘Boo’.

Booker was two and a half, and the first of Danny’s kids who was not fully potty-trained upon meeting him. No big deal, he could change diapers, it wasn’t fun per se, but it was a part of the job he’d signed up for when he advertised his daycare being for kids six months to six years. Booker liked anything shiny, Danny had specifically bought shiny toys the night after first meeting the kid and was rewarded with oud and happy shrieks at the new toys.

March passed in a blur.

Life was good.

~~~

It was after a long day at the beginning of April that Danny found himself walking home from work and attempting to ignore the nearby gunshots he was hearing. He wasn’t a vigilante. That wasn’t his problem. He’d come to Gotham to open a daycare, not fly around, and stop crime. This was Red Hood’s territory; he’d deal with it.

But when the gunshots stopped Danny started to feel unsettled. After a solid minute of trying to shake the feeling that something was wrong, something he needed to fix, he gave up and moved towards where the commotion had been coming from.

The alley was seemingly empty but as Danny peered closer (thank Ancients for his ability to see in the dark almost as well as in the light) he noticed a foot sticking out from being a dumpster. Carefully making his way towards the body, he made sure not to make a noise. He didn’t want to alert any lingering goons to his presence.

“You’re a sneaky one, aint’chya?”

Danny made eye contact with the man on the ground but not before noting the heavy flow of blood seeping through his shirt or the gun in the hand that wasn’t trying to keep the blood inside his body. “It comes in handy.”

“I bet.” He grunted.

Putting his hands up, palms out, Danny moved closer slowly. “Can I help you?”

The man eyed him warily. “Depends.”

“On what?”

“Who you workin’ for?”

Danny didn’t know what the wrong answer was, so he was just honest. “Nobody. I work for myself.”

“Eveybody’s workin’ for someone, kid. Who ya workin’ for?”

Okay so that didn’t work. If he pushed the idea that he worked for himself the man was more likely to think he was a spy or goon for some other mob boss. Who would be safest? Who could he say he worked for that this man might not try to shoot him?

“Technically?” He tried to sound casual. “I work for Red Hood. But I don’t really do the whole… guns and fighting thing. I volunteer at soup kitchens and stuff.”

With only a moment’s hesitation, the man lowered the gun and grunted. “Hood’s one a the good’uns.”

Danny pressed forward quickly, disposing of the man’s shirt and assessing the wound. The bullet had gone straight through, and it seemed like it missed any vital organs -lucky- but he’d lost a lot of blood. “I’ve got to get you to Dr. Thompkins clinic. Let me help you up.” The man grunted as Danny pulled him to his feet and supported the entirety of his weight. “Come on.” Danny heaved, pretending the man’s weight was actually difficult for him.

It wasn’t.

When Danny had first arrived in Gotham he’d done as much research as he could. Some things he didn’t think were particularly important (who cares which model Brucie Wayne brought to his newest gala?) but others he found to be very valuable. Like a free clinic that didn’t send people to hospitals or call the cops, where everything was kept confidential. It sounded too good to be true, but he’d looked into it and found that Dr. Thompkins was legit as was her practice.

(He had a sneaking suspicion she was heavily funded by Bruce Wayne)

“Is there someone I should call to pick you up?” Danny asked, feigning a struggle with the man’s weight.

He grunted. “I’ll make it home alright, kid.”

Danny waited a moment before asking the question he’d been thinking since he’d first heard the gunshots. “What happened? You a goon?”

The man continued to struggle forward. He huffed. “Yeah, kid, Imma goon. Needed money, found m’self in the middle’a somethin’ bad. This’s just a warnin’.” Danny hummed, helping the man up the stairs at the front of the clinic. “I can manage from ‘ere kid.”

“Danny.” He offered a tight smile. “My name is Danny, I run a daycare in the Bowery. When you’re all healed up, come find me. I’d like to offer you a job that doesn’t involve guns or drugs.”

The man looked at him incredulously before turning back to the door. “See you around, kid.”

“See you later, sir.”

The man barked a laugh. “Bianchi. Victor Bianchi. And yes, you will.”

~~~

The snow had finally melted, and Danny was finally able to get the playground he wanted installed behind the daycare. He’d taken ideas from his friends on what would be the most fun and diverse. After that was taken care of he’d need to build a fence as well, but that wouldn’t take long at all. Unfortunately, with the snow gone Gotham was now rainy about eighty percent of the time. Danny hadn’t been ready for that.

It was on such a day that Danny found himself walking home, soaked to the bone, catching his death (ha) of chill, when he met his new best friend. He’d almost made it back to the apartment (which had been under construction for the last few months, repairing each apartments living conditions) when he found a soggy carboard box housing what used to be a white cat but was now closer to brown with mud and grime.

The cat was meowing in a pitiful way, so Danny thought maybe it was asking for help. Upon closer inspection he found three smaller cats nestled into her belly, water soaking through the box and dripping onto their tiny bodies. Without much thought, Danny scooped the box up and rushed it to his apartment. Once inside he transferred them to another box (thank Ancients he hadn’t thrown them all out after moving) with a warm blanket.

He didn’t bother changing his clothes as he was about to go out once again- he knew there was an emergency vet open until eleven on weeknights just a few blocks away so he had plenty of time, but he had no idea how long the cats had been sitting in a puddle and couldn’t wait. Swiping an umbrella (when had he gotten an umbrella?) he rushed back out making sure to keep the box dry the entire way.

He paid very little attention to his surroundings on the way, someone could easily be following him or trying to get his attention and he wouldn’t know it. He had been accused of having tunnel vision in the past. He wasn’t sure why. Pushing through the doors he hastened to the front counter.

“Hi, how can we help you?” The vet tech asked politely, still typing on her computer, not bothering to look up at Danny.

Danny evened his breathing (why was it so fast? He didn’t need to breath what the fu-) “I found this cat and her kittens in a wet box and wanted to make sure they were okay. They were really cold and shivering when I found them so I switched them to a dry box with a blanket and brought them as quickly as I could.”

She nodded. “Okay, we should be able to take a look while you fill out this paperwork if that’s okay?” He nodded, handing the box to another tech who quickly took them to a different room. “We’ll just need some information from you, I’m sure you don’t know a lot about the cats since you just found them. Are you planning on keeping them or do we need to find a shelter to take them?”

As a kid Danny had always wanted a pet. Of course, he’d wanted a dog and his parents Maddie and Jack had said no because a dog would disrupt their workspace, but he’d been willing to settle for a cat if it meant he could have a companion. He’d done all of the research required on owning a dog. He’d been shot down. So he did the research for cats and been told no once again. He’d done the research for rabbits and ferrets and snakes and lizards and fish but every time- ‘no Danny, we don’t need a pet’.

Eventually he’d gotten Cujo who was close to what he’d always wanted. He was a little busy for a normal pet at that point so he’d kind of Given up on it. He’d never considered getting a pet once he’d moved out on his own- he’d lived in the Infinite Realms, and he had Cujo there so it hadn’t occurred to him.

He didn’t have time for cats! He was already busy with the daycare every weekday and visiting the realms on Saturdays and seeing Jazz on Sunday mornings and doing a group call on Sunday evenings- “Yes. I’ll keep them.”

Well. Okay then.

Someone needed to teach him to shut up.

She nodded again, typing some things before printing the paperwork. “Okay, I’ll need your name and some contact information. You can go into that room and fill it out while the vet looks them over.” She nodded towards the room he’d seen the cats taken into.

Throwing a ‘thank you’ over his shoulder, he pushed his way into the exam room. The mama cat and her kittens were laying on the blanket Danny had brought on the exam table. Mama was licking her kittens clean while the vet tech typed some information on the computer.

“Ah, hello. I’m Margot.”

“Danny.”

She smiled, glancing at the screen before turning back. “Okay so mama is in good health and two of the kittens are as well. The orange one seems to be sick, I’m thinking pneumonia, but we won’t know without further tests. It’s treatable and I’m not too worried, he seems strong otherwise. I’d guess they’re three, maybe four weeks old. The orange one is a boy, the calico is a girl, and the white one is also a girl. Any questions?”

“Uh… do you need to keep them over night, or can we get these tests done in the next couple of hours?”

“It won’t take that long, maybe an hour or so to get the tests done and send you on your way. I heard you found them; do you have the things necessary to take care of cats?” He shook his head. “Hm, that’s fine, we have a volunteer here who will help you get everything you need from the in-building store while we finish the tests, I’ll go get him.” She opened the door and disappeared.

Danny let mama cat sniff his hand. Once he’d met her approval, he gently touched each kittens’ heads, offering little scratches of comfort before offering mama the same treatment. “You guys are gonna come live with me, okay?” He let Mama go back to cleaning her babies while he filled out the paperwork- phone number, home address, name, etc.

“Tyler informed me you are ill-prepared for the responsibility of owning cats.”

Danny jumped, unsure how this kid had managed to sneak up on him. He was Danny’s height, with black hair, dark skin, green eyes, and a serious look on his face. Dumbstruck (because seriously how did a teenager sneak up on the king of the infinite realms?), Danny nodded.

“Who’s Tyler?” Danny asked, dumbly.

Raising an eyebrow, the boy huffed. “The tech you just spoke with. Margot Tyler?”

“You call her by her last name?”

“I call everyone by their last name.” He rolled his eyes. The boy glanced at the cats and softened marginally. “My name is Damian; I’ll help you find everything you will need while Dr. Kelly runs some tests. Follow me.”

Being given no choice but to follow, Danny allowed the serious boy to lead him past the check-in desk and towards what appeared to be a store. “All of the items here are provided by… a donor. They are free to those who need them. You will need a litter box, litter, a scoop, food and water bowls, food, a brush, a scratching post, and toys. You will also be provided the necessary tools to take care of the sick kitten.”

Damian was very informative, and Danny couldn’t help the small smile. “Okay, sounds good. I walked here though, should I get everything now and run it home before coming back for the cats, or take the cats home and leave them while I come back for the supplies?”

He thought for a moment before deciding. “I would take it all home now so that the space is ready for the cats once you bring them home.” Damian began handing Danny everything he’d need. Most of it fit into the litter box and he didn’t think it would be much of a problem to carry it all home until Danny pulled the container of litter and bag of cat food down.

“Might take me a couple of trips.” Danny muttered to himself, calculating exactly how difficult it would be to carry some of this with the cats but ultimately deciding against it. He could do it if he weren’t worried about looking slightly suspicious. But nobody would be able to carry all of this without struggling- not without powers.

Damian looked between Danny and the supplies before sighing. “If you require assistance I suppose I could carry the food and litter.” Shaking his head, Danny made to argue, but Damian had other ideas. The boy hoisted the bags over his shoulder without much effort and raised an eyebrow. “Lead the way.”

That was how Danny found himself letting a teenager into his apartment and showing him the best ways to set everything up. “Cats prefer their water to be separate from their food. I grabbed a fountain for you because they also prefer the water to be moving. You can use a regular bowl until the kittens are grown up. They also prefer if their litterbox is in an area with low foot traffic.”

Listening to Damian talk about the cats was quite informative and he could feel the kid relaxing as Danny did what he suggested every step of the way without question. Once the apartment was set up they began their short trek back to the clinic.

“I really appreciate all of your help, Damian.” Danny started. “I’ve never had a pet before, but I’ll do lots of research about everything you suggested.” He didn’t know how he’d find the time, but he meant every word.

The boy gave a firm nod. “Research is important. The vet will tell you what you need to know, and there are plenty of resources at the clinic.” He paused. “I suppose, if you have any questions and cannot get to the clinic… you may call me.” He held his hand out expectantly; Danny scrambled to pass his phone to the kid feeling like this opportunity would be taken away just as quickly if he hesitated.

A moment later he was waiting for the vet in the exam room with Damian’s number in his phone and a lot of information in his head. He could do this. He’d taken care of Cujo, right? It would be fine!

(He ignored the nagging reminder that Cujo was already dead so there wasn’t much Danny could do to mess it up).

~~~

“Heya kid.” A familiar voice rose from the doorway.

Looking up from his work, Danny found the familiar figure of one Victor Bianchi looming in his doorway with a friendly grin on his face and a friendly kid on his hip. “Mr. Bianchi, you should be resting.” He gave a pointed look.

The man waved his hand dismissively. “I’ve been restin’ for days! Had to get outta the house. The wife’s fussin’ too much.” He shifted the little girl in his arms. “This ‘ere’s Allegra.”

Danny moved away from his desk and towards the little girl. “Hello there Allegra, my name’s Danny. How are you doing today?”

She stared at his outstretched hand, headed tilted to the side contemplatively. “You have an owie.” She pointed at the scarring on his hand curiously. Mr. Bianchi pulled her hand away and gave him an apologetic look.

“She’s real curious.”

He’d been fully prepared for people to point out his scars for the rest of his life, a kid’s genuine curiosity wasn’t going to upset him. “No worries Mr. Bianchi. They’re old owies, Allegra, they don’t hurt anymore.” Except when he remembers the feeling of his fingers being severed from his body, forced to grow back until they’d do it again and he could still remember the pain “What can I do for both of you today?”

“Trains!” Allegra shouted, wiggling out of her father’s grip and rushing into the playroom which was still vacant for the time being.

“Well I guess that settles it. The wife’s worried I won’t recover as quickly if I gotta look after ‘er all day so… I guess I’d like to drop her off?” He sounded like he wasn’t sure how any of it worked.

With a small smile, Danny gestured to his desk. “I’ve got a bit of paperwork for you to fill out and then we’ll be set.” Rifling through the mountains of paper on one of his many desks (seriously why did he have so many? He had one in the Infinite Realms, one at the front of the daycare, one in a private office at the daycare, and one in his apartment- who needed that many desks? Kings, apparently) “Have you given any more thought to what I suggested?”

Mr. Bianchi shifted his weight a couple of times. “I, uh- yeah, I don’t know what kinda work you’d need a guy like me for though?”

“Have you ever built a fence, Mr. Bianchi?”

Mr. Bianchi had in fact, built a fence before. He’d mentioned something about creepy ass neighbors with cameras pointed into his yard before telling Danny to show him where he wanted the fence. Ember watched Allegra while the two went to the back and figured out what would work.

“Is my daddy gonna work for you now, mister?” Allegra asked as he settled down beside her to play with the trains together.

He thought for a minute before nodding. “Yes, I think so. I’d like him too. He seems like a good worker.”

She nodded vigorously. “He is! He’s the goodest worker! He doesn’t complain or nothing’! Even when he’s hurt he don’t say nothing bad about his boss!”

Danny figured, when you have to work any job you can get to support your family, you probably learn to ignore your complaints and just… push through it. Aside from the Red Hood, it didn’t seem any of the other crime lords took care of their people- another reason to thank the vigilante. True, Danny wasn’t a real Gothamite, but every day he felt a deeper connection to the city and her people. He’d become protective of them, especially those in the Bowery and Crime Alley.

He’d protect them all, in any way he could.

“You want the red train or the blue train?”

~~~

Four nights later Danny got a call that reminded him- he couldn’t even protect himself, how was he supposed to protect everyone else?

Prev. Next

#fanfiction #danny phantom #danny phantom/jason todd #danny's daycare #dp x dc #He's gonna suffer so much I'm sorry #idk how to tag lol #tagging sucks #seriously someone help

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zarvasace · 6 months ago

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Congrats on 10k! For a little cleanse, I was thinking of perhaps Time and Four having a nice little bonding time? I don’t see nearly as much with them as I would like!

Yessss me either!! Time isn't my favorite of the Boys but he is such a good one

---

Four’s footsteps on the wet cobbles pause, and Time looks back, stopping too. A sign on the side of the road announces GAMES OF LUCK AND CHANCE, with a little image of a treasure chest on the side.

Time knows these kinds of places. They're scams, every one of them, but people still keep going to them in the hopes that they'll win money without doing much. Those conpeople prey on teenagers and the poor, and Time is mildly frustrated, but not surprised, to see a place like this in town.

Four looks up at Time, a mysterious gleam in his eye. “Are you thinking what I'm thinking?”

“What are you—ah.” Four had learned about Time’s Lens of Truth just yesterday.

“You're my father, and I'm turning ten, and the knights don't pay so well, and you want so badly to get me a practice sword or something,” Four says, smiling and fluffing his hair out. “What do you say to two losses and a string of wins?”

Time's eyebrows lift. He doesn't think that most of the others would suggest this sort of a con to him, but Four has never been one to judge him too harshly on his age and apparent stick-in-the-mud-ness.

So Time smiles back. “Let's scam a scammer.”

Later, Four and Time make a stop at the local soup kitchen to donate a few thousand rupees.

#phone charged tummy full im back at it!!!#my writing #prompts and minifics #lu four #lu time #linked universe

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nyx-knacks-writes · 1 month ago

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Be More Careful, Okay?

Based off of @princeloww's idea of Alec and Campbell being uncle and nephew. I think Alec is a tad out of character here, but I saw this prompt by @prompt-dealer and had an image of Campbell being chased by an angry Alec, and I couldn't resist. No spoilers for either Broadchurch or Takin' Over the Asylum, and none for princeloww's The Never-Ending Sky, either. This is just my little idea of something that could occur if Campbell were to end up in Alec's care. I take zero credit for the idea of Campbell and Alec living together and zero credit for the prompt.

“I’m too young to die!”

“Young ain’t got nothin’ to do with it!”

Alec chased Campbell around the house, literally around the outside of the house, yelling obscenities and threatening—well, Campbell didn’t exactly know what he was threatening, but chances were high that it wasn’t good. Nature of a threat, after all.

Truth be told, Alec also didn’t know what he was threatening. He’d figure that out later. However, he did know that Campbell was in deep trouble. Trouble so deep that he wasn’t exactly sure how to punish the boy. Especially given that Campbell wasn’t even his son. So round and round they went, both yelling and trying not to slip on wet grass that would surely yank their feet out from under them at the first opportunity, causing an impromptu meeting with the cold, wet, muddy ground.

The first offense had been the shirts. Campbell had had good intentions, really. He’d come home early from school on Monday, seen that the bathroom laundry hamper was full, and decided he’d do a load of washing to help his uncle. What a lovely nephew he was, right? Right? Wrong. Despite his best efforts to sort the colored clothing from the whites and the darks, he’d missed a pair of socks. A pair of red socks. A pair of brand-new red socks the exact color of a freshly washed fire engine gleaming in the summer sun. The shirts had come out pink. Oops. When Alec finally got to see the result of his nephew’s good intentions, he’d simply sighed and shaken his head. No sense in getting mad. He could probably do with some new shirts anyway. He’d donate the pink ones to a charity shop in town. Yeah, yeah, “real men wear pink” and all that, but what was he supposed to do? Like it or not, pink was still very much thought of as a feminine color. He could only imagine the abuse he’d suffer at the hands of his coworkers if he came in wearing a pink shirt. Big, bad DI Hardy in pink? Unthinkable. So he’d donated the old shirts, added a shopping trip to his weekend plans, and obtained the new white shirts that he preferred. A little hit to the wallet, but ultimately, no lasting harm done.

The second offense had been the soup. After the Sandbrook case had finally been solved and closed, Miller had insisted Alec start taking better care of himself and get a hobby. So what did he choose but learning to cook, which would satisfy both her demands? Ever the efficient one, wasn’t he? However, some dishes required a couple of extra hands for the sake of timing, so he would recruit Daisy and/or Campbell, depending on the day and on who was around, to help him out in the kitchen. On Tuesday, he’d needed both of them. It was going to be pumpkin soup for dinner that night, since it had been so cold and rainy, and Alec had asked Campbell to add the cream, nutmeg, salt, and pepper to the pot while he began pureeing vegetables a few cups at a time and Daisy helped him to avoid overloading the food processor. Four teaspoons of nutmeg would do it. However, when Alec caught sight of the little container of nutmeg on the counter after putting the soup back onto the stove to simmer, there was no teaspoon in sight. Instead, there was a tablespoon with a suspicious coating of brown powder sitting only an inch or so away.

“Campbell,” he’d asked slowly, “how much nutmeg did ye put in the soup?”

“Four tablespoons,” Campbell answered, looking up from the knife he was washing. “Why?”

Alec cursed, cut the gas, and put the soup pot on the stove’s back burner.

“Nutmeg is poisonous in high quantities,” he said. “The recipe called for four teaspoons, not tablespoons. If we eat that, we’ll end up in hospital.” He sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair, debating on chastising Campbell versus just letting it go. ‘Try to read it a bit more carefully next time, aye?” he eventually said as Campbell made a point to look anywhere else but at his uncle’s eyes. “Anyone have suggestions for dinner tonight? Looks like we’ll be doing takeaway.”

The next day, Campbell really did wind up in the hospital. Not for ignoring his uncle’s warning about the soup, but instead for a skateboard accident. It had been something of an impulse buy on Campbell’s part, and while he was getting to be rather good when it was dry, he’d not yet practiced when it was wet. He’d missed the bus to school in the morning, pondered what to do, and instead of calling a friend or his uncle or even Ellie Miller, he’d decided that the best possible way to rectify this problem was to attempt to skateboard to school and ask to leave the board in the office until the end of the day. He’d load up his backpack, throw on a rain jacket, hop on the board, and sail off into the morning light, perfectly balanced and confident that as long as he was careful, nothing would go wrong.

What actually happened was that he rolled out with all his things, made it about halfway to the building, hydroplaned on a small hill, and ate dirt. Great. One ambulance ride, a thorough wound-washing, a chunk of chin and six stitches later, he was sitting in a hospital bed as Alec chewed him out for being irresponsible and not just calling for help or walking to school instead of getting on a set of wheels that had not been properly tested for mildly inclement weather. Not that he could be too hard on the boy. His intentions (get to school without inconveniencing anyone) had been good, and the fall, given its consequences, had really been punishment enough for poor Campbell. He looked like he’d expected a bowl of cherries and gotten a cherry bomb instead: a little confused and a lot regretful. Like he was contemplating the choices in his life that had brought him to this moment.

Thursday had been blessedly normal. No blood, no pink shirts, no ruined meals. Normal ride to school, normal day, normal ride home. He didn’t even have homework for once in his school career! Maybe he was in the clear! Maybe his little bad-luck streak was over!

And then on Friday he inadvertently dyed his uncle’s hair a bright teal. What he wanted to do was put a teal streak in his own hair. It had been something he’d been thinking about for a while, and after having such a rough week, he figured that it wouldn’t hurt to try. He’d spent the afternoon in and out of the bathroom, making sure he was doing it right and not dying the whole house at the same time, and it had come out beautifully! Not a drop anywhere but in his hair, nice clean stripe, absolutely gorgeous. His one mistake? Leaving the bottle in the shower. When he’d gone to rinse out the excess dye, he’d taken the bottle into the shower with him to check the instructions for how to properly care for the freshly dyed hair. When he was all set, he’d left it there. And what did his poor, unsuspecting uncle do when he went to wash his hair later that night? He grabbed the dye bottle instead of the shampoo. And what did he see when his hair finally dried? Bright teal. Everywhere. All over his head. No missing it. Thus leading to the lovely game of ring-around-the-house. It was a little childish, yeah, but Campbell hadn’t been sure what his uncle was going to do with him when the newly teal-headed man had stormed into the living room with murder in his eyes. The options had been limited, so Campbell chose to run.

Uncle and nephew made the oval at least four times over, pushing Alec’s pacemaker to the limit, before Alec finally stopped seeing red and had the bright idea to simply wait for Campbell to come back around again. He snagged at his nephew’s hood when the opportunity presented itself and pulled the boy against his chest.

“Campbell, I . . . why?” Alec asked helplessly, wind going out of his sails. “I know ye’ve had a tough time adjusting here, but why?”

“I didnae mean to!” Campbell squawked. “I left the dye in the shower by accident, I swear!”

“I know ye didnae mean to, I’m asking ye why ye haven’t been more careful! Two out of the last five days ye’ve injured or nearly killed yerself, an’ I just want to know why!”

Alec stopped for a moment, released a breath, and let it go.

“Look, I know ye’re not happy to be here. I know nothing’s the same and ye’re not even with yer mum and da anymore. I’m worried about ye. Please, just . . . I need ye to be more careful. That’s all. That’s why I’m upset. Now please, let’s stop these Looney Tunes shenanigans an’ go back inside. It’s too cold an’ wet to be out at this time of night.”

Campbell stopped to consider that for a moment, and Alec realized what he’d said. However, the apology wasn’t halfway out of his mouth before Campbell cracked a grin.

“But I am a looney.”

“Campbell—”

“How can ye expect me no’ to engage in Looney Tunes shenanigans when I am, in fact, a looney?”

“Campbell—”

“In fact, you ought to be thankful that I don’t engage in more Looney Tunes shenanigans just to spite ye! In fact—!”

“Campbell!”

The boy in question stopped talking, but his grin didn’t fade even a little.

“Yes?”

“Inside. Please.”

And so, the pair trooped to the door in silence, neither sure what to say to the other until Campbell paused with his hand on the doorknob.

“I’ll be more careful,” he promised. “I didnae mean to worry ye, really. I’ve just had an unlucky couple of days. I’m fine.”

“Really fine?”

“Aye, really fine.”

“And ye know ye can ask fer help any time?”

“Aye.”

“And—”

“Yes, yes, come on, let’s go inside! I haven’t eaten since lunch, an’ dinner won’t cook itself. What are we makin’ tonight?”

#alec hardy #broadchurch #broadchurch fandom #broadchurch fanfiction #daisy hardy #no beta we fail like alec's heart #david tennant #campbell bain #takin over the asylum #i'm tired

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arbiterlexultionis · 1 year ago

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Danny and the Spooks

So first things first, my initial idea is that this prompt takes place in a no one knows AU, and Danny somehow gets his ice powers earlier than he otherwise would, though really this could work without those two if need be.

So Danny got his ice powers pretty early in his ghost fighting career, and because he doesn’t have the support from his friends or raw power he would gather up later on he relies far more on Fenton tech to get by. That reliance on weapons means that, upon realizing that his ghost ice 1) doesn’t melt and 2) is Ghost Ice, and therefore can’t really be phased through by most ghost that arn’t him, immediately begins thinking of ways to make long term weapons out of the stuff.

A little while into his experiments with that he’s fighting Skulker and gets thrown into the house of some poor civilian, and while taking cover behind the kitchen counter looks over to see the (slightly disgruntled) homeowner doing the same while holding a 12 gauge.

“You think you can land a shot with that thing?”

“You think it’ll matter if I can?”

To which Danny replies something along the lines of “it will with this” before handing over his latest creation, a 12 gauge slug that’s had some of the material removed and replaced with his ice. Danny distracts Skulker, and his new friend pops up and puts a hole through the spine of Skulkers suit, allowing Danny to capture him. Danny thanks Mr. Civilian, who is apparently a retired Navy Seal or something, and they wind up staying in contact with each other, sometimes helping each other out with stuff and Mr. Seal testing out new weapons for Danny. Then some punk kid(yes a punk kid, doesn’t matter that he’s older than Danny, Danny still refers to him as a punk kid) decided that he wants to help defend the town and starts following Danny around, trying to help him in fights, and just refuses to stop putting himself in danger. Eventually Danny “relents” and says that he’ll let the kid help out, but only after he gets proper training from Mr. Seal, with the real plan being for the training to be way to intense for the kid to make him give up.

One problem though, the kid just doesn’t give up. Like, at all. One day Mr. Seal pulls Danny aside and tells him that Punk has finished his training and Danny gets all exited that the kid finally gave up, only for his bubble to be burst. “No no, he hasn’t given up, he just finished my training. He’s ready for combat.” And well, a deals a deal. So both Punk and Mr. Seal start taking more of an active roll in ghost fighting.

And then another idiot with more selflessness than sense shows up. And another. And, whoops three more just showed up. Eventually, Danny wound up as the accidental leader of a vigilante/ghost fighting organization dubbed the spooks by the local news. Comprised mostly of volunteers, with the best and brightest getting a rank all their own and proper pay, comprised of donations from both normal people and members and “donations” from criminals they stop because it’s not like they need the money now that they’re in prison.

I’m just imagining Danny with this rag tag group of humans doing what they can to help people.

After Danny finally manages to get some time with his friends for a movie marathon, he decides to form a new branch of the group called the R.I.P.D., the Rest In Peace Department, which is basically meant to help ghost fulfill their Obsessions and stuff in a safe, peaceful manner.

Boxy gets a abandoned warehouse full of boxes that’s been covered and insulative materials to keep ghost hunters from tracking him there.

Lunch Lady gets a great big soup kitchen which promptly morphs into a whole ass shelter for anyone and everyone that needs it so long as they’re okay with having Lunch Lady seemingly appear out of nowhere worrying about how skinny they look and shoving food into their arms.

They also have an absurd number of homemade gadgets and weapons. Think like, the entirety of the slingshot channel, ZnA productions, hacksmith and all those other types of channels combined, but their arsenal is hopped up on ghostly BS, as well as stealing equipment from Vlad and the GIW.

Skulker: I WILL MOUNT YOUR PELT ON MY WALL GHOSTCHILD

Fredrick “Dakka” Stevenson, flying the ancient crop-duster they got from old man Elijah and strapped every weapon they could to: I’m gonna do what’s called a pro gamer move.

Every other spooks member on the coms: groans

Dakka: if you want me to stop making lame meme references stop using a lame meme reference as my nickname.

Pt 2

#danny fenton #dp au #danny phantom #fic prompt #fanfiction prompts #story prompt #writing prompt #no one knows #no one knows au

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cosmictyto · 21 days ago

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(Movie) Nimona Winter/Christmas Headcanons:

Experiencing a literal snow squall rn and it’s making me think of Khrismuh Time. So have some thoughts.

First: In terms of the Trio™️ and where they generally stand regarding “Holiday Spirit”

• 🎄 •

Ambrosius: Absolutely loves it. He naturally runs cold, but at the same time he loves wearing winter clothes. Sweaters, cozy socks, scarves, you name it. And his biggest “giving” love language IS gifts. (Meanwhile his “receiving” LL is physical touch. Dude wants cuddles.) So this holiday ticks all the boxes for him. He’s wants to celebrate the whole month long, wants to go do little traditions like sleigh rides and snowball fights, and he always had a couple decorations he put in his dorm at the Institute every year. Like he is IN it. And he’s totally the kind of guy who’s working on a list for Bal the whole year. Yes, he knows the season isn’t JUST about material goods. But he also absolutely loves the look on Bal’s face when he gets something he genuinely loves, or when Rose catches Bal wearing/using something he got him. It just makes him really happy.

• 🎄 •

Ballister: Moderate Christmas enjoyer. He naturally runs hot, so he doesn’t bundle up nearly as much as Ambrosius does. Usually only in a tshirt and some gray sweatpants (another reason why Ambrosius likes winter ayooo~) And maybe a turtleneck when it gets really cold. The gifts are nice, but he’s always been a quality time kind of guy. Which, works out perfectly. There was always a Christmas Break for cadets so they had time, + Bal n’ Rose could go out and do all those traditional little activities and have a good time. He used to have a hard time with the holidays when he was a kid for various reasons. For starters, the winter weather in the Danks can be a bitch. Along with general food insecurities plus a cultural emphasis on family and friends when you don’t have any doesn’t lead to anything good. Even despite the various charities that try to make that time easier. But, after starting his training, he had a stable home and food situation, he had a best friend who did his damndest to make sure he had a good Christmas, and yeah the Queen always invited him to spend the actual day with her (since she didn’t really have anyone, either.) So over time he’s built up good memories and associations with the season.

I also see him as 100% being the kind of guy who goes to do volunteer work as part of his traditions. (Not even just for christmas, I imagine he and Ambrosius do community work year-round because they’re both genuinely good, generous guys- though he definitely MAKES time for it during the holidays) Mainly because he knows how hard it is out there when you don’t have anything. And he’s benefited from things like soup kitchens, blanket and clothes donations, as well as toy drives when he was small. Now he’s an adult with the means to help and give back. Why wouldn’t he do that?

• 🎄 •

Nimona: She. Hates. It. The Grinchiest Grinch who ever Grinched. For starters, I wanna put down a Richard Adams quote, because it definitely applies here and how Nims would feel about winter overall:

“Many human beings say that they enjoy the winter, but what they really enjoy is feeling proof against it. For them there is no winter food problem. They have fires and warm clothes. The winter cannot hurt them and therefore increases their sense of cleverness and security. For birds and animals, as for poor men, winter is another matter.”

The years she’s lived as various animals gave her enough reason to dislike the season. There are PLENTY of times where she’s hibernated as a bear or flown south to avoid the cold. Though when she’s stayed in the kingdom, she just does not have a good time. She’s had a lot of the same issues Ballister had as a kid, but she’s never had anyone to alleviate them. She’s just had to endure for literal centuries. Plus, the holiday’s messaging about “peace, love, goodwill towards others,” and all of that feels incredibly fake considering everything she’s been through. It’s hard to get in that christmas spirit when you’re just trying to survive in a kingdom that would happily hunt and kill you. Plus, she’s seen how the holiday itself has succumbed to commercialization. So it feels even MORE cheap and fake to her. She just doesn’t like it. (She’s more of a Halloween person anyway.) It’s just a bad time of year, with a boatload of negative emotions/baggage attached to it that lasts even after the events of the movie, and she’s more than happy to treat it like “just another day.” (I also imagine she deals with seasonal affective disorder. Get this girlie a uv lamp so she can bask under it as a lizard.)

That first christmas after she comes back from the canon incident? When she starts living with her boss and his boyfriend? She’s a complete grump. She sees Ambrosius (who is still “Nemisis,” “Goldielocks,” and “Goldengroin” in her mind) decorating the place during, like, the first week of December and she’s reacting like an angry cat. Quietly slinking into her room and avoiding everyone. Maybe even playing loud music to drown out the sound of cheesy movies and music. Ambrosius is pretty oblivious to why she’s being so sour about everything, but Bal immediately recognizes what’s going on and empathizes. Already forming a plan to give her some good experiences. And, like, they don’t really convert her into a christmas enjoyer within the year. But with each passing holiday they do help ease her out of hating it. It’ll never be her favorite holiday, but she stops dreading winter and christmas eventually.

#nimona #nimona movie #nimona 2023 #nimona netflix #christmas #holidays #christmas headcanons #headcanons #ambrosius goldenloin #ballister boldheart #nimona headcanons

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