#mac n cheese from scratch entirely
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Wanna come back to my place for some fun?~~~~
What? No i dont want to have sex with you- I was gonna give you a whole 3 course meal but noooooooooooo
#asexual#ace spec#this popped into my head and it was funny#i would much rather cook for someone than fuck them#food is so many millions of times better than sex#and seeing someone else enjoy your cooking is even BETTER#i wanna make broccoli cheddar soup…..#and more tomato soup#oh and chicken mac n cheese#mac n cheese from scratch entirely#oooo and i can always be down for a steak~#maybe rub down some ribs and get em smokin over some hickory#when i have a place of my own im having a grease disposal and a grill out back#maybe a smoker too#for good ol texan barbecues#man i get to do the neighborhood barbecue and we get folks comin over and set up classic bbq games#bring texas with me wherever i go#ohhhhhhh and it’ll be a dream to have the privilidge to cook wagyu#cook things i may never eat but someone else with have so much joy in eating#have a beautiful stove and an oven and both an air fryer AND a deep fryer#a blender AND a food processor#microwave will be mostly reheating stuff and frozen meals when we’re out of stuff or im tired#OHHHHHHH AND WE’LL HAVE A DEEP FREEZER!!!!!!#oh emile i hope you’re getting all this#wanna cook for you so BAD
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I miss my childhood house so much I would give anything to grab the knob at the end of the banister and jump from the third step and catch a million seconds of air while I whip myself around the banister and down the hall
#I also miss my treehouse and the pool table I would use for fashion shows and the smell of the “secret garden” under the stairs and#the way the house would settle and the planes overhead and that stain on the carpet from where I dropped an entire plate of mac n cheese#and the distinct smell of my mom’s closet and climbing down over the back bank and going to the entryway where the ceiling was two stories#high and throwing bouncy balls as hard as I could to get them to bounce off the ceiling and the rope swing in the backyard and eating#the buttercups that grew there bc I read once they were edible and the sound your nails made when they scratched across the counter and#using hot clue to peel off paint and make patterns on the workbench and the shed that smelled like gasoline and climbing the tree that#my dad installed handles into to make it easier and making umbrella forts and playing washing machine (spinning around and around in#circles with your arms out then falling to the floor and watching the room spin) and the mismatched rung on the banister from where#I broke it and the sound of the cat door and how the garage door was so heavy that it would slam if you didn’t prop it open and how the#smell of laundry would waft up into my room and how if you laid on the bathroom floor you could see a piece of the old yellow flower#wallpaper that my mom missed when she ripped it out and the sound of the sliding glass door that we could never quite get clean and#the sound that the bag full of bags would make when you opened the pantry door too far and how my neighbor always used to sing when#she brought her trash out late at night and the crunch sound the carpet would make when you walked on the edge and how raccoons would#always come to the back door and my cat would try to scare them away and being scared to go into my mom’s bathroom bc the shower#had been ripped out for years after my dad tried to power wash it so it left several gaping holes to the rest of the house but there were#spiders in there for all I knew or cared#carmen.txt
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a/n: this is mainly for black gender neutral readers or those with coily/curly hair but anyone can read :)
Whenever Kento wants to learn something new, he devotes his entire time to it. No, seriously. People around him often ask how he manages to master so many skills, or they gape in awe when they see him in action, because it always looks like he’s a natural. But the truth is, Kento practices—endlessly.
Take cooking, for example. He wasn’t always good at it. His parents were the first to teach him about the importance of basic household skills—especially cooking. They told him, "If you want to survive in the real world, you need to know how to take care of yourself, and cooking is essential."
But his first attempts weren’t smooth at all. He didn’t master stegt flæsk on the first try, nor could he bake the perfect rye bread, or make udon from scratch. In fact, when he first attempted cooking, even the boxed mac and cheese stuck to the pan.
Frustrated but determined, Kento began watching his family closely. He'd observe his mother in the kitchen, occasionally passing her ingredients or awkwardly chopping vegetables. He read cookbooks, borrowed recipes from his grandmother—learning both Japanese and Danish dishes, and followed each step carefully—getting the right ingredients, measurements, and temperatures just right.
That’s how Kento approached every skill he became interested in—whether it was fencing, archery, learning to play the violin, or pottery. He would buy all the necessary equipment, immerse himself in content about it, and fixate on it until he was satisfied with his skill level—like a Sim locked into a single task.
So, when Kento started dating someone with coily hair, he applied the same method.
He noticed how much time they spent on their hair—the hours dedicated to braiding, curling, and washing. He wasn’t the type of partner to just sit back and watch, especially when they were feeling tired.
He went into research mode: watching videos, reading articles, and practicing. Whenever he had time off from work, he’d be on his couch, blue light glasses perched on his nose, eyes glued to YouTube tutorials explaining how to care for coily hair—the products to use, the best protective hairstyles, and the time required for proper maintenance.
He’d search on his Samsung, scrolling through article after article written by people with coily hair, trying to understand how he could help make their routine a bit easier.
One day, his partner caught him with a mannequin head in his lap, his legs crossed on the couch, glasses slipping down his nose, fingers moving as he tried to braid from the scalp down. His brows were furrowed in concentration, teeth gnawing on his bottom lip.
“Kento, what are you doing?” they chuckled, glancing at the mannequin on his lap.
He let out a small huff, not annoyed but a little sheepish. “I’m trying to learn how to braid, or at least take care of hair.”
They laughed softly, seeing his frustration as he undid yet another braid that wasn’t quite right. “Why don’t you practice on me?”
“I don’t want to ruin your hair,” he replied, frowning as he started over again, still a bit clumsy but improving.
“I’ll teach you,” they offered, amusement in their voice, touched by how much he wanted to get it right.
Kento’s eyes lit up in excitement, as if he’d forgotten that watching them take care of their own hair was the best lesson he could get. "That’d be great," he said with a lazy grin, pushing his glasses up.
For the next few weeks, they taught him everything—how they followed their daily hair routine, how they carefully braided and styled their hair, and how long it took to recreate certain looks. Kento watched intently, always hesitating before touching their hair, afraid he might mess something up. But with gentle encouragement, he grew more confident.
Eventually, he learned enough to help out. On days when they were tired, Kento would sit them down, placing pillows beneath them, and take over. He’d part their hair with a comb, splitting it into neat sections, his hands gentle as he worked, always mindful not to tug too hard. They’d both watch a silly reality show on TV while he braided or styled their hair.
He even learned how to wash it delicately, stepping into the shower with them to help massage their scalp and rinse out the conditioner. He bought the right products, ensuring they always had what they needed. Sometimes, he’d try new hairstyles on them—ones even they hadn’t thought of—just to keep things interesting.
For Kento, it wasn’t just about learning a new skill. He loved spending that quality time together, knowing that every effort he made to help them made a difference. And in those quiet, intimate moments, he felt truly happy.
#kento nanami#kento nanami x reader#jjk nanami#jjk#jjk x reader#nanami kento#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x black reader#kento nanami x black reader#nanami kento x gender neutral reader#kento nanami x gender neutral reader#nanami my love#jujutsu nanami#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#kento nanami headcanons#nanami x reader#nanami x gender neutral reader#black!reader#black!y/n#gn reader#kento nanami fluff#nanami kento fluff#nanami imagine#nanami fluff#nanami x you#nanami x y/n#jujutsu kaisen nanami
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FINLEY ALDRIDGE AESHTETIC & STATS
basic information
full name: finley aldridge
nickname(s): fin
age: 22-32
date of birth: aug 13
hometown: toledo, oh. but moved around frequently so they don’t really have a “home town”
current location: brooklyn, ny. (flexible depending on plot)
occupation: drummer for m.t. threats. day job as a record store clerk (in verses where the band takes off, they buy the record store).
gender: gender nonconforming
pronouns: they / them
orientation: lesbian
religion: agnostic
species: shape shifter / human verse available
PHYSICAL APPEARANCE
face claim: e.r. fightmaster / brigette lundy paine
hair colour: brown
eye colour: brown
height: 6 ft
piercings: ears / industrial in left ear
clothing style: gay and comfy. king of too many flannels. worn in band t’s. gym clothes when they’re lounging around the house.
usual expression:
HEALTH
addictions: n/a
drug use: they will never say no to an edible and has definitely taken a psychedelic on accident. rarely smokes alone.
alcohol use: mostly social. they like beer but rarely drink hard liquor.
illness: chronic himbo disease and it’s incurable. jk no real illnesses. a pin in their knee from a college basketball injury. undiagnosed adhd.
PERSONALITY
positive traits: loyal, resilient, humble
negative traits: stubborn, dense, self destructive
hobbies: drumming, going to concerts, mario kart, petting dogs, spending way too long in record stores, anything active, weight lifting, basketball, being the nice gym bro, camping, fantasy sports leagues.
habits: they will annoyingly drum on anything if they have a pen in their hand
FAVOURITES
weather: summer. anything where they can be outdoors and it’s comfortable.
music: classic rock, old school punk / metal, where ever they live they’re usually really into the local music scene so a lot of ‘local’ bands where ever that would be.
movies: cheesy 80s action movies bc they’re perfect for their terrible attention span but also because it’s one of the few things they bonded with their dad over. fin enjoys a good comedy too. notoriously a little bitch with horror movies pls hold their hand.
books: fin can’t read:( jk when their reading it’s usually a biography about a musician they like or about music. they can read an impressively long book about a specific era or music but cannot for the life of them read a novel.
food: fin is the least picky eater and it has everything to do with growing up poor and not being much of a cook while needing to keep fin and their brother fed. has a killer mac and cheese recipe. will eat all the leftovers you don’t want!
FAMILY - tw: parent death, gambling addiction mention, verbal abuse mention (honestly rarely touch upon in plots)
father: gordon aldridge. a truck driver who was rarely home but constantly had them moving across the country as he chased work. a gambling addict who remained neglectful their entire childhood. occasionally verbally abusive which fin tried to shield gus from.
mother: anya aldridge. passed away when fin was young. they have a few memories of her but not many. a lot of her belongings got lost in various moves but fin has tried to keep photos and a few important things.
siblings: gus aldridge. 3-4 years years younger than them. fin is fiercely protective of him. laughs at all his jokes (even the ones they don’t get). (note: depending on verse i fin and gus may be twins).
QUICK FACTS
fin is a shapeshifter who can take shape of any animal they’ve seen. they play in a band of all supernatural creatures. despite this they most usually take shape of a dog to blend in (or get head scratches).
human verse available
#im so bad at keeping track of these things but it's fin's birthday tomorrow so they deserve an updated aesthetic :')#player 1: finley aldridge#finley (bio)#finley (about)#finley (aesth)#stats: all
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bfs jordanian family LOVED the first dish ive ever brought them- baked mac n cheese from scratch. was told it was the best dish there. and they dont even know its ENTIRELY GLUTEN FREE
WE'RE SO FUCKIN BACK.
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Safe
Pairing: SBI family x reader (platonic, one shot), BASED OFF FROM CHARACTERS NOT ACTUAL PEOPLE
Warnings: child abuse/neglect, bullying, alcoholism, death of a parent, mentions of panic attacks, injury, mentions of a dog’s death, mentions of eating disorders, mentions of suicide attempts, depression
Word count: 7,730
(A/N): if you’re not feeling safe at home or are being abused, please contact the proper authorities. Here’s the abuse hotline: 1-800-799-7233, my DMs are always open if you want to talk
You met Tommy and Tubbo when you were in third grade. You were a relatively quiet kid, the type to always keep to themselves and abstain from social activity. Mrs. Jansen, being the nice woman that she was, let the entire class choose their own seats.
“Welcome to your first day of third grade, class! I’m Mrs. Jansen and I look forward to getting to know all of you. As you can see, there are enough desks for all of you. You may sit with who you want.”
You shifted around uneasily and gripped your book in your hands as your classmates hurried to get the back seats. After every seat was taken, you walked to the only seat left in the front. You were between a girl and a boy. They introduced themselves as Dorothy and Samuel, and were relatively kind to you.
As the class passed their second week, two boys that sat in the back row made themselves apparent very quickly. They were both rambunctious, always disrupting the class with their giggles and whispers. Mrs. Jansen had warned them multiple times that she was going to separate them, but it seemed that they didn’t think she’d do it. One day, she finally had enough.
“Tommy, Tubbo. I’ve given you plenty of warnings, I’m going to have to separate you. Dorothy, Samuel, can you please switch places with them?”
You could feel dread wash over you. Why was she putting you between them?! What did you do wrong to deserve this? You could swear that you’ve done all your chores, you even made your mom smile at you! She never did that.
They pouted as they sat next to you, Tommy on your right and Tubbo on your left. You already missed Samuel and Dorothy. “Thank you. (Y/n), make sure they behave.”
You shrunk down into your seat as you felt Tommy’s glare burning holes into the side of your head. Tubbo, on the other hand, was watching the lesson with bored eyes and his chin propped up in his hand. You tried to take notes, but you kept getting distracted by Tommy’s heated glare. You were going to fall behind, you couldn’t have that. Mama wouldn’t like that.
After the final bell rang, you hurried out of the classroom to avoid Tommy’s wrath. You could hear him shouting for you to stop, but you never stopped until your hand was grabbed and yanked backwards in the empty playground. You fell back onto the pavement of the basketball court and whimpered at the sting in your palms.
Tommy glared down at you, “you gonna cry? Serves you right. Never tell on Tubbo and I. Got it?”
You tearfully nodded and he grinned maliciously at you, “good. Tubbo, let’s go. Wil and Tech’s probably waiting for us.”
The brunet was staring at Tommy with a shocked expression, unmoving. Tommy rolled his eyes and huffed before he grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the crowd of families. Tubbo looked back at you with an apologetic expression and watched as you looked at your scratched up palms.
You wiped at your tears as you stood up and started to walk home. Your neighbor’s dog behind the wired fence barked at you as you hurried past it. You never liked that dog; it was a drooling, angry, ugly furball. It scared you, but not as much as Mama did when she drank her adult juice. She was scary when she drank it. You tried hiding it from her once but she grounded you from eating dinner and snacks for half a month. You didn’t try to hide it again.
You trudged up the creaky wooden stairs of your porch and tried to open the door only to find it locked. You tried to knock on the door but Mama didn’t answer so you just sat on the front porch waiting for her to open the door. She did so when the sun was setting, surprise and then anger shining through her hazy eyes. She yelled at you before she sent you to your room for the night without dinner.
The next day when you were sitting alone at a lunch table, someone plopped down in the seat next to you. You jumped and scooted away from them, looking up only to see Tubbo. He was smiling at you.
“Hey, I’m really sorry about Tommy, he gets mad easily.”
You eyed him warily and clutched your open book, “...it’s okay.”
He grinned and scooted closer to you, peering over your shoulder at the book. “What’re you reading?”
“‘Harry Potter’.”
“Oh I love that book! My favorite character’s Ron, who’s yours?”
Surprisingly, the conversation was pleasant before he was dragged away by a glaring Tommy. You might actually make a friend after all. Later that day after school, Tommy once again stopped you in the school yard. This time, he shoved you to the ground and started to shout at you.
“You do not talk to him, freak! You’re gonna mess him up, he talks to me and me only. Do you unde-undastunend?”
You gulped and shakily spoke up, “yes, and it’s ‘understand’, not ‘undastunend’.”
His glare intensified before he reared back a fist. You yelped as you curled into a ball with your hands protecting your head. Before he could hit you, you heard the stomping of shoes against the concrete.
“TOMMY STOP.”
You could feel a hand on your back and a gentle voice asking if you were alright. You hesitated before you looked up to see an older boy with a mop of curly brown hair on his head and wire glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He reminded you of Harry Potter. Looking past him, you saw a tall pink haired boy glaring and lecturing Tommy, holding the struggling boy in place with a firm grip on his elbow. Tubbo was just behind him looking down and shifting on the balls of his feet.
“I am so sorry about Tommy, are you alright? He didn’t hit you did he?”
You shook your head and the boy heaved a sigh of relief, “that’s good. I’m Wilbur and that’s Technoblade, we’re Tommy and Tubbo’s brothers. What’s your name?”
“(Y/n).”
He smiled at you, “that’s a lovely name.”
“Wilbur, let’s go. This one,” Technoblade shook Tommy’s arm, “needs to talk to Dad.”
You watched as Tommy’s movements stopped and he looked up with wide eyes. “No, please don’t tell Dad. Please-”
Wilbur stood and helped you up before grabbing Tubbo’s hand and lead him away, “you aren’t weaseling your way out of this.”
You watched the brothers leave, feeling guilt wash over you. You didn’t want to get him in trouble, punishments were the absolute worst. Even though he shoved you and almost punched you, he didn’t deserve any punishment. With guilt weighing down on your shoulders, you walked home. At least Mama was in a good mood, she made you some mac n cheese for dinner.
The next day, Tommy trudged up to your desk and put a tupperware dish on your desk before sitting down in his seat and ignored you. Tubbo sat in his seat next to you and smiled at you.
“Open it,” he jumped in his seat slightly as he watched your expression change to shock. In the container laid five chocolate chip cookies. You had only had cookies once in your life and that was during a class birthday celebration a year ago. “They’re our Dad’s secret recipe, I helped make them! Um, Tommy wanted to apologize to you.”
You glanced at Tommy. He was glancing at you over his shoulder and blushed a bright red when he saw you looking at him. Tubbo cleared his throat and gestured at Tommy. The blond crossed his arms and looked off to the side. “Sorry,” he mumbled halfheartedly.
After that, they started to sit next to you during lunch. Tommy was a bit cold towards you, but you found yourself beginning to relax around Tubbo’s friendly aura. Soon enough, you started to supply him with more than a few words per sentence. Tommy eventually got bored of eating in silence and would join your conversation. You three became thick as thieves that year, you even met their Dad. He was very different from Mama; he never yelled at you, he was always giving you snacks, and he even smiled at you often.
That house became like a second home to you. Eventually, you ended up spending more time at the Minecraft residence than you spent at home with your mom. Over the years, she got worse with her drinking. She was always passed out on the couch and when she wasn’t, she was swaying on her feet in the kitchen staring at a portrait with dazed, wistful eyes. You can remember when you first realized that she had a problem and always being unhappy and drunk was, in fact, not normal for a parent.
It was a warm spring day in seventh grade. Luckily, you had your health class with Tommy and Tubbo. You were currently learning about alcohol dependency and the effects it had on the body. The teacher listed all the symptoms your mom had; the uncontrollable urge to drink, the aggression, the shakiness and dizziness, everything. When you came to the realization that your mother might have a problem, the teacher started to explain the disorders and diseases that could come from heavy drinking, most of them having the potential to be fatal if the drinking persisted. You felt like you were drenched in icy water as your body seized up in fear for your mother. You stared unseeingly at your notebook at the symptoms of alcoholism and associated disorders. You didn’t want your mom to die. You had to do something before it was too late for her.
“(Y/n)?” You jumped and looked at the person who called your name. Tommy and Tubbo were giving you worried stares. “Are you okay?”
You shakily started to put your supplies away into your backpack. The class had been dismissed and you didn’t even realize it. “Y-yeah. It’s just- I’m worried.”
“Yeah, I’m worried too,” Tommy laughed as you followed the two out of the classroom and to the courtyard. “That essay’s gonna be awful.”
“Oh god we have an essay?”
“Yeah, Mr. Smithers assigned it to us before the bell rang, are you sure you’re okay? You’re usually on top of this stuff.” Tubbo threw a worried glance towards you.
“Yeah, just a bit distracted today. I uh, have to go home. Like right now, my mom wants me home right after school today.”
You sprinted off towards your house. When you reached your neighborhood and ran past the wired fence. The bulldog that lived there was now old and gray. You found out that his name was Buster and he was actually a total sweetheart if you slept next to him on the other side of the fence on more than one occasion. Buster watched from inside his doghouse as you sprinted into the house. Luckily for you, the door was unlocked and your mother was passed out on the couch surrounded by glass bottles. You locked the door behind you as you rushed over to her intensely watching for any sign of movement. She looked dead, her skin was pale, her hair matted, and her mouth gaping open showing off her yellow stained teeth. She wasn’t moving, were you too late?
Just as you started to panic, she snorted and started to breathe. You slumped in relief as you stepped over the beer bottles into the kitchen. The table was sparkly clean with a pristine picture frame resting in the middle, a stark contrast of the beer bottles that littered the floor and the piles of dirty dishes in the sink. It was of a man standing stiffly in a military uniform saluting at the camera with a stern expression. He was an exact copy of you. Well, you were an exact copy of him; that man was your late father.
“Hey Dad, how was your day? Mine was awful, I learned about alcoholism and cirrhosis today and- and I’m worried about Mom. She’s been drinking a lot lately.”
You stared at your dad’s face behind the glass as if expecting a response. You wanted some reassurance from the man. You wanted him to tell you everything was going to be okay and that he’d handle it so you could be a normal kid. Like usual, his steely expression didn’t budge one bit.
You sighed to yourself sadly and trudged to the refrigerator opening the door. The beer bottles stared back at you tauntingly. Your fingers twitched on the fridge door as you contemplated the consequences of throwing away the offending glass bottles. You remembered in second grade when you hid your mother’s alcohol she punished you by withholding food from you. She’d probably do worse this time, but the consequences were worth it if you were going to save your mother’s life.
It took you ten minutes of tossing alcohol into the garbage can until the fridge was left barren of the drink. Without the green bottles, the fridge was completely empty with the exception of milk and a few probably rotten eggs. You struggled to take the trash out to the curb and started to work on homework in your room.
At seven at night, you could hear her roll off the couch and stumble into the kitchen. A series of frantic rustling and banging sounded downstairs before you could hear pounding footsteps storm up the stairs. Your door flung open to reveal your red-faced, livid mother.
“What the fuck did you do?”
“M-mom I hid them because we learned about alcoholism and cirrhosis and-” You cut yourself off when she walked over to you with her arms extended towards your trembling frame. You tried to scoot as far away from her as possible, but she grabbed your shoulders with clammy but firm hands, shaking you roughly.
“Are you saying I have a problem?! You spoiled fucking brat, you’re the problem! Everything was amazing before you came and fucked up my life. You took him away from me. YOU FUCKING KILLED MY HUSBAND.”
You could feel tears start to drip down your cheeks as you remembered that day in first grade when you begged your dad to get you some McDonalds for dinner. When he relented, you cheered and your mom laughed at your excitement. She was so full of life back then; her hair was shiny and bouncy, her skin was unmarked and flawless, her eyes were lively and bright. Her laughter was perhaps your favorite memory of her. Then everything went to shit when your dad never came home and your mom got a phone call saying that your dad was killed in a car wreck on impact. You could remember your mother’s heart wrenching sobs as she collapsed to the floor and pulled you tight against her body. As if she was trying to protect what was left of her husband.
You were snapped back to reality when your mom shoved you back onto your bed. The happy, beautiful woman that you saw was replaced by the shell of a broken woman. Her silky hair turned dull, her smile turned into a grotesque scowl, her loving eyes turned cold. She truly was a husk of her former self.
“Stop crying, you’re not the one who’s life was ruined. I want you out of my house in ten minutes. You’re gonna not step foot anywhere near here for two weeks. If I even see you on my property before those two weeks are up, you’re fucking dead.”
You frantically nodded and watched as she stumbled out of her room. You packed what you would need in your spare backpack and ran out of the house past your mother sobbing and babbling incoherently to your dad. You flinched when you could hear a bang and the sound of glass shattering when she threw a bottle at your retreating figure.
You ran until you couldn’t run anymore. Your legs brought you to the park where you spent most of your childhood. Everywhere you looked, you could see glimpses of your mom and dad pushing you on the swing, Tommy and Tubbo running from you playing tag, Mr. Minecraft putting a bandaid on your scraped knee. Tears streaked down your cheeks as you pushed yourself up and went to your safe place. It was a little nook deep in the vegetation where nobody could see you. You originally found this place when you were playing hide and seek with Tommy and Tubbo. They never knew where you hid.
Tears moistened the soil underneath you as you pulled out a blanket you had hid in a plastic grocery bag and spread it out on the floor. You curled up on it and cried freely into your hands. You didn’t sleep much that night.
That was the first time she had kicked you out for that long. You barely ate in those two weeks, wolfing down any food you could get your hands on at lunch. Lunch for you was the small scraps of food that Tommy and Tubbo shared with you. Mom never packed you lunches or gave you money to buy things anymore. To make matters worse, they had told their dad that they thought you had some form of eating disorder.
About a week into your exile, you finally visited the Minecraft residence after avoiding them for a week. You remembered how the blond man pulled you aside into the kitchen. He gently sat you down and pushed a plate full of chicken and vegetables in front of you. You looked at him confused as he gestured towards the plate.
“Eat that, I heard you haven’t been eating much lately.” When you made no move to eat, he smiled at you. “Go ahead, it’s okay if you don’t eat it all. Just eat some of it.”
That was all you needed to hear, you began to eat quickly like a starving wolf. It’s been a while since you had more than half an apple to eat, let alone an actual homemade meal. When you were done, you looked up to see the older man looking at you worriedly.
“...Are you not getting enough food at home?”
You scrambled to find a lie, “my- my mom is away a lot on business trips. We don’t really eat much.”
His worried expression grew tenfold as he moved to kneel in front of you and put his hands on your shoulders. “You need to eat three meals a day, especially now that you’re growing. You’re always welcome here when your mom’s away, our door’s always open. Is she away now?”
“Yeah, she won’t be home until next week.” You felt bad for lying to the man that put bandaids on your scraped knees and took you to the father daughter dance in fifth grade when he heard that your dad was dead. He was always so kind to you, which you never quite understood. Despite feeling bad for lying to him, you felt incredibly relieved that you didn’t have to be alone anymore.
From then on out whenever she kicked you out, you went to the Minecraft residence. They welcomed you with open arms and treated you like you were a part of the family. You and Techno bonded over your love for reading and mythology, Wilbur made sure you took care of yourself, and Philza (he told you to just call him Phil at that point) treated you like his own child. You didn’t think that it was possible for you, Tommy, and Tubbo to be any closer than you already were, but you three became inseparable. You told them everything one night when you couldn’t sleep. You told them how you felt like you were the cause of your mother’s decline and your dad’s death, how she would usually punish you, her ‘hobby’. They were about to tell Philza, but you begged them not to. After a while of pleading and assuring them that she’d never hit you, they hesitantly agreed and made you promise to call them whenever you felt unsafe in your home.
You kept to that promise, calling them whenever she would get too drunk to know what she was doing. They would calm you down from panic attacks late at night and invite you to their house in the daytime. They felt like your actual brothers and you started to refer to them as such. You three gave each other a shoulder to lean on and gave each other comfort when needed. One night when you were in your freshman year, however, your mother caught you sneaking out to see them after she sent you to your room. That was when she started to hit you.
Just as you were about to sneak out the front door, your mother started to scream at you incoherently. When you flinched away from when she got up in your face, she became even more enraged.
“WHERE WERE YOU GOING? I BET YOU’RE WHORING YOURSELF OUT, AREN’T YOU LITTLE SLUT?”
Without thinking, you yelled back at her, “I would never! Why-” You were cut off by a harsh slap to the cheek sending you to the ground. She quieted down and stared at you and her hand, a glint of shock shining through her dazed eyes. Without a word, she turned around and left to go talk to your dad. You sat there listening to her rant about how she failed as a mother, how she wanted to do better but she didn’t know how, how she wished that he was there with her. You scrambled up and ran to your room. You looked at yourself in the mirror, there was a bright red mark on your cheek in the shape of a hand. There was a small cut where her wedding ring connected with your cheek. A single drop of blood dripped down your cheek and curved down the dip of your chin before dripping onto your shirt. Without doing anything else, you plopped down onto your bed and sobbed into your pillow, crying yourself to sleep.
When you woke up in the morning, you realized that you slept through half of the school day so it was useless to go to school now. You reached up to run a hand down your face only to hiss and pull your hand away. You once again looked at yourself in the mirror.
You looked terrible. Your eyes were bloodshot and swollen like you were crying in your sleep. Hair was sticking up in all directions and matted slightly. The slap mark was gone, but the cut had bruising around the edges with dried blood crusted on your cheek and on your pillow. It was a small cut, but it bled a surprising amount overnight. You couldn’t see Tommy or Tubbo like this, they’d flip out. Luckily for you it was a Friday and you had the weekend to heal.
Your mother gradually started to hit you more and more. It started off as a once-a-week thing whenever she was really angry, but then it divulged into something that would happen daily over the smallest things. You became her punching bag for her to release some steam. Makeup became your best friend at that point; you used what little savings you saved over the years for dollar store makeup.
Soon after it became a struggle to hide the cuts and bruises from Tommy and Tubbo, so you gradually started to avoid them. Your face, once synonymous with the Minecraft residence and Tommy and Tubbo, became a rarity. They tried their hardest to contact you, but you always dodged their calls. After a few months of you dodging Tommy and Tubbo, you finally told them that you didn’t want to be friends with them anymore.
It broke your heart to say it, but it had to be done. They were getting too close to the truth and you couldn’t have that; the government would take you away from your mom and she’d end up dead. You were the only one keeping her alive at this point, she lost all motivation to eat. The only thing she did nowadays was hit you, drink, and hug your dad’s photo to her chest.
The beatings got to the point where you could barely walk without feeling pain. School became something that you’d rarely attend. Tommy and Tubbo stopped trying to talk to and call you. Buster, your previous confidant, had long since died so you were truly alone in the world. The neighbor’s yard looked barren without the dog house and the graying dog. The only person you had left was your mom.
When you had accidentally burnt dinner late at night, she completely snapped. She grabbed your arm and held it on top of the burner. Pain hit you immediately as you screamed and cried apologies to her. When you instinctively hit her with your other hand, she dug her nails into your arm and pushed your arm closer onto the burner. Nerve endings screamed at you to get away from the pain. The pain was becoming too much, so you looked on the countertop next to you for something to defend yourself with. A metal fork was lying close to your other hand.
You grabbed it and, with a distraught apology to your mother, drove the prongs deep into her arm. She screamed in pain and let your arm go. You ripped yourself out of her grasp and started to run for the front door. A force collided with the back of your shoulder making pain explode in the area. You didn’t know what happened at first, but after hearing the shattering of glass, you realized that she threw a beer bottle at you. You could feel the sting of alcohol and glass mingling with your open wounds on your shoulder. The sting was almost as bad as your arm, but you didn’t stop running especially when you glanced behind you to see her running at you with a knife raised and the fork protruding from her arm.
You flung open the door and sprinted out without bothering to close the door behind you. As your bare feet hit the sidewalk, you could hear your mother stop at the end of the stairs and shout at you to come back. You never stopped.
You didn’t stop until your feet took you to the Minecraft residence’s front door. Nobody was on the street as it was about eleven at night. You hesitated to knock on their door, you ignored the family for the past six months, and you weren’t sure if they even wanted you there. After five minutes of thinking, you just sighed as you walked back down the wooden stairs and walked back towards the sidewalk.
“(Y/n), what are you doing here?” You froze up at Tommy’s sleep riddled voice. You stayed frozen as you heard him stomp over to you. He placed a firm hand on your injured shoulder and forced you to turn around. His angry expression faded into a concerned one when he heard you start to sob and flinch away from him.
“Wha- shit are you bleeding?” You nodded slightly and he gently turned you back around to see a patch of darkened cloth on your shirt. You could feel him shaking as he grabbed your arm and pulled you into the house. He plopped you at the dining room table and told you to wait there. With that, he sprinted up the stairs and brought back a serious Philza holding a first aid kit.
When he saw you bruised and battered, you could hear him take in a sharp intake of breath and saw unbridled anger flash across his face. You flinched away from him when he approached you.
“Hey,” he said in a gentle voice, “I won’t hurt you. Can you show me where you’re hurt?”
You eyed him warily like a scared wild animal and reluctantly moved your burned arm away from your chest and showed it to him. This was the first time you saw your forearm; it was an ugly red that expanded up the majority of the underside of your forearm with skin burned off at the edges. Yellow, fluid-filled blisters were starting to form.
You could hear Tommy’s horrified gasp as he turned to run out of the room. You kept your gaze downwards as Philza warned you that he was about to put disinfectant on your wound. He apologized to you when you whimpered in pain at the sting of the alcohol on your exposed nerves. After he was finished wrapping your arm, he asked you to show him where else you’re injured. You turned around so he could see the growing patch of blood staining your now ripped shirt. You could feel him gently move your shirt to the side and heard him wince.
“Shit, there’s glass in here. I’m going to have to get some tweezers to get it out. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” You were then alone in the kitchen for a moment before he came back with a worried Wilbur and Techno in tow. The brunet pulled up a chair next to you and asked if it was alright to hold your hand. After you hesitantly nodded, he grabbed your hand and started to run his thumb over your knuckles. Techno held a light close to your shoulder as Philza started to tweeze out the green tinted glass from your shoulder.
Every time you would suck in air through your teeth and muffle your yelps with your other hand, Wilbur would whisper reassurances to you and hold your hand tighter. After the glass was out, the wound was disinfected, and wrapped in gauze, Philza told the boys to leave the room. He grabbed both of your hands and gave you the best reassuring smile that he could.
“Tell me what happened.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat as you felt tears well up in your eyes, “I tried Phil, I really did. She never got better no matter what I did.”
“What do you mean, are you talking about your mom?” You could hear the angry undertone of his voice. You tensed up and nodded.
“She… she needs help. She was never the same after Dad died, she started drinking. It started off with only one beer a day, but after seventh grade she was going through an entire case in a day. She’d punish me if I said or did anything about it. No dinner for a week was a popular one until she started to ban me from the house for weeks on end. She never went on business trips, Phil. She got a knife today. I-I thought she was actually gonna kill me this time, I was so scared.”
Without another word, he pulled you into a tight hug, letting you sob freely into his shoulder. “It was my fault, I couldn’t help her! She- she needed me and I couldn’t help her.” You said between sobs. He hugged you tighter and started to rub your back, making sure to avoid your shoulder. “None of this is your fault, you can’t help someone if they don’t want help. Sometimes you can’t fix someone who’s too far gone.”
“Am I too far gone?”
“No, you aren’t. We’ll help you through this, we won’t let anybody hurt you ever again. You’re gonna go on to live a good life.” You passed out in his arms after a while of crying.
When you woke up, you were in Tommy and Tubbo’s room. The two boys jumped to your side and pulled you into a tight group hug. After you tried to apologize to them for how you treated them in the past six months, they shushed you and just sat there in silence hugging you.
Later that day you found out that your mother was found by your neighbor on the front porch with her wrists slit and empty beer bottles surrounding her. She was breathing, but just barely. Currently she was in an unstable condition in the hospital. You had a full breakdown when you found out that she almost killed herself because of you. You had run out of the house and to your safe place in the park. You hadn’t been there in a few years, so you hoped that it was still there.
Sure enough, it was still there albeit a bit overgrown. The blanket in the plastic bag was in the same place where you left it. You had no idea how long you were sitting there crying and having a panic attack, but when you came to your senses it was dark outside. You could hear crickets chirping and the rustling of leaves in the entrance of your hideout.
A brunet head poked itself in and smiled when he saw you. Tubbo fully came into the nook and gestured for someone to follow. Tommy’s blond hair made itself apparent before he joined you two inside.
“Nice little place you have here. It’s… homey.” Tubbo rubbed his hands together and blew warm air on them. You threw one side of the blanket at him and pulled your knees up to your chest. “Thanks, I used to sleep here sometimes… How’d you find me?”
“We could hear you,” Tommy pulled out his phone and typed something on it before pocketing it and sitting next to you. He covered himself with the blanket as Tubbo followed suit. You sat in silence before Tommy broke it.
“How long has she been hittin you?”
“Tommy!” Tubbo scolded him.
“She started about six months ago.”
“Six months ago… that was when you cancelled plans! I knew something was wrong Tubbo.”
Tubbo said nothing as he looked at you with a helpless expression. Just as he was about to open his mouth, you interrupted him. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. Everything’s my fault. I’m the reason my mom’s in the hospital right now fighting for her life. I wasn’t there for her.” You would’ve started crying if it weren’t for the fact that you just felt so drained and numb.
“The fuck do you mean? She was about to kill you! You told us that she was about to stab you, what else were you supposed to do, just let her kill you?!” Tommy exclaimed.
You shrugged, “maybe. If she did she’d be happy, I was just a burden to her. I- I just wanted her to be happy and I would never be able to do that as long as I’m alive. If she killed me she wouldn’t be in the hospital right now.”
“What the fuck (y/n),” Tubbo shouted, startling you. He never shouts, let alone swears. “How could you even say that? I don’t know what I’d do without you, everything would be so boring and nothing would be the same without you. Fuck her happiness, she’s a wretched woman if the only way she can be happy is when you’re dead. Fuck her.”
You and Tommy stared at the seething boy in shock. He never shouted when he was angry, he only did that once when he found out that Tommy was being bullied. Whenever he sweared, that’s when you knew his emotions were hitting him at full force. Tommy quickly recovered from his shock to join him, “yeah fuck her, man! She can go suck a dick.” He was interrupted by his phone buzzing.
“Dad’s here, c’mon he’s worried sick about you.” After they helped you out of your safe place, they both wrapped an arm around your shoulders and walked you to the parking lot. You could see the headlights of the lone car in the lot turn off before the door swung open and a figure rushed towards you. You pushed yourself behind Tommy and Tubbo and hid behind them fearfully. They both turned around and put a hand on your shoulders. “It’s okay, it’s our dad.”
You peeked over their shoulders and saw a mop of disheveled, long blond hair. Philza looked like he was just told that there was an antidote for a fatal poison he just ingested, despite the flash of hurt that showed on his face. His blue eyes were accentuated by the redness of his sclera and you can see the relief painted in them. A gentle smile was on his face as he moved his arms up. Without another word, you launched yourself at him and pulled him into the tightest hug you could manage with your shoulder.
“Are your accusations true, Mx. (L/n)?”
Your gaze flickered over to your mother sitting on the other side of the courtroom. She looked at you with no expression on her face. Her wrists were wrapped tightly in a white bandage that was a stark contrast to the bright orange prison uniform and the silver of the handcuffs. She wasn’t the woman you knew when your dad was alive. The life was sucked out of her the second she picked up that phone call.
You looked back at the lawyer, “yes sir.”
“I have no further questions, your honor.”
“You may return to your seat, Mx. (L/N).”
You stood up and walked as confidently as you could past the dull eyes of your mother and back to your seat between Tommy and Tubbo. You held their hands tightly as the trial moved onwards. Buster’s owner even stepped up to the witness stand to give his testimony. Apparently he knew about the abuse from your late night conversations with Buster. He had contacted CPS and the police multiple times but the case was always dropped for some reason that you couldn’t bring yourself to ponder. A few of your previous teachers even showed up to give their testimonies. Their words, though true and slightly sweet, rubbed you the wrong way. If they ‘knew something was happening at home with you’, then why didn’t they do anything when it was happening? You tried to focus on the rest of the trial.
Your mother’s only witness was herself, and she did a piss poor job at it. She was basically digging her own grave with every word that came out of her mouth. The entire time, she was staring at you with her infamous dull eyes.
“Do you have any further points you would like to add, Mrs. (L/n)?”
“Yes, I have always loved my child. They were my husband’s pride and joy, the splitting image of him. Their rightful place is safe with their real parent at our home.”
You could feel Tommy attempt to stand up, but you pulled him back down; now was not the time for him to start yelling in anger. Tubbo squeezed your hand in reassurance and glanced at you. You were staring at the woman you called your mother with pain and hate filled eyes. You wished her words were sincere, but you knew fully well that they weren’t. The words that left her mouth would’ve been one hundred percent true and genuine when your dad was still alive, but he’s buried six feet under in a military cemetary now and he has been for years. You would’ve given anything, even your own life, for those words to be true a month ago, but you knew better now. Mothers don’t treat their kids like this, they’re supposed to give their children their unconditional love and take care of them. As far as you were concerned, she was no longer your mother. She forfeited that title the second she turned to the bottle. Philza is and will always be more of a parental figure than she’ll ever be.
After the jury left to discuss, the court was in a recess. You slipped out of the room and speed walked to the bathroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror. You could see heavy eye bags under your dull eyes. The dullness of your eyes, to your horror, reminded you of your mother, so you splashed your face with water. That fixed it, your eyes were slightly brighter. You could still see the faint outline of the scar on your cheek from when she first hit you. Small scars littered your face from the more recent wounds she gave you before you ran.
A knock sounded at the door, “(y/n), the recess is almost over.” It was Techno.
You patted your face dry and went to leave the bathroom. The pink haired boy that you now saw as your older brother was waiting patiently for you on the other side. He put a gentle hand on your shoulder and led you back to the courtroom. There, the rest of the Minec- no, your family was waiting for you. Just as you reached them, the judge announced that the jurors would be arriving back. The entire courtroom stood as they walked in.
“Have you reached a verdict?” The judge asked.
“We have.”
“Mrs. (L/n) and Mr. Langsburg, would you stand and face the jury? You may read the verdict.”
“We the jury of the state court find the defendant guilty under the charges of child abuse and child neglect.”
Tommy clapped a hand on your shoulder as Tubbo squeezed your hand. They both smiled widely at you. You, however, didn’t acknowledge them. You were only staring at the empty eyes of your mother as she was looking at the jury. Her reaction was akin to her breaking a pencil, like it didn’t matter to her. Like all the years abuse that she put you through didn’t matter was as trivial as breaking a pencil.
“So say you all?”
“Yes, your honor.”
“I hereby sentence Mrs. (L/n) to twelve years in the state penitentiary with no opportunity of parole. Mr. Philza Minecraft shall be bestowed the custody of Mx. (Y/n) (l/n) as they do not have any next of kin. Court is adjourned.” With that, she banged the gavel and the courtroom exploded in the bustling of people. You never took your eyes off from your mo- no, the monster with the dull eyes as she picked at something in her nails boredly. Just as she looked up to meet your gaze, Tommy pulled you into a tight hug, lifting you off the ground slightly. You were passed around the family in the courtroom for their individual hugs. Philza’s was comforting, Tubbo’s was congratulatory, Wilbur’s was warm, and Techno’s was slightly awkward, yet soft.
At home, you spent most of your time in the spare room Philza had given you. He had offered to help you decorate it, but you had no idea where to start. You were never allowed to have decorations in your old room. You kept the room simplistic and your possessions light.
You often stared at your dad’s portrait on your nightstand wondering what your life could’ve been like if you never asked him for McDonalds that day. Your family probably would’ve been stationed in who knows where and moved around often, as is customary in most military families. You probably would’ve never met Tommy and Tubbo in third grade. You probably would’ve never met your now older brothers and new father. You didn’t want to imagine a life without them.
After a few days of you being locked up in your room, Tommy and Tubbo came into your room with mischievous grins. You knew them like the back of your hand, so you knew the second you saw their faces that they were about to do something. You sat up and looked at them suspiciously.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re not doing anything, (y/n). Right Tubbo?”
“Right Tommy.” Tubbo nodded curtly. They still had grins on their faces. They walked over to your bed before they picked you up and walked you out of the room. You didn’t have the energy to fight them, so you laid limp in their arms. They eventually took you down to the living room and plopped you down onto the couch between them. Techno tossed them a blanket when they then used to wrap you tightly into a blanket burrito. The home screen of Disney Plus was pulled up on the TV and the curtains were drawn. Philza and Wilbur exited the kitchen with glasses of water and two big bowls of popcorn.
They smiled widely when they saw you squashed between your brothers, putting a bowl of popcorn in your lap and three glasses of water nearby. The two next to you dug into the popcorn as the rest of the family made themselves comfortable on the couch.
“What are we doing?”
“Movie night! We’re gonna binge the Marvel movies, your favorite!” Tubbo grinned at you, practically bouncing in his seat.
“Just double checking, the order is Captain America, Captain Marvel, Iron Mans One and Two, Incredible Hulk, Avengers, Thor-”
You cut Wilbur off with a mumbled “first Thor, then the first Avengers movie.”
“Glad I asked then! The timeline would’ve been thrown off.”
As the movies progressed, you started to finally feel like you belonged as a part of the family. Laughter came easier to you, mingling effortlessly with the family’s laughter. Every time you laughed at a scene, they would give you a smile and laugh alongside you. Eventually after about halfway through Captain America: The Winter Soldier, everyone had fallen asleep on the couch. Soft snores and the quiet sounds of the occasional fight scene filled the room as your eyelids started to close involuntarily. You looked around the room at the rest of your family. They all looked peaceful in their slumber. Tommy and Tubbo’s protective hold of their arms around your shoulders made you feel safe. It was in that moment that you realized that they would never let anyone hurt you ever again. You were a part of an actual, loving family. With that, you let yourself fall asleep into a peaceful slumber surrounded by the people that loved you the most.
General taglist:
@crybabyjabby @izzybobizzy13 @goldenstarofthunderclan @bunnyz-pxstel @averytiredfanfictionwriter @dcml04 @sparkling-gayyyy @bbigbbrainn @thaticecreambish @kiinokochii @satansphatass @bxkubitch @bxmentchildxx @roxy3457 @montygator17 @feverish-dove @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @jichuuchaeng
#sbi x reader#sleepy bois x reader#sleepy bois inc x reader#philza x reader#technoblade x reader#wilbur soot x reader#tubbo x reader#tommyinnit x reader#mcyt x reader#teenage reader#platonic#tw: abuse#tw: neglect#tw: swearing#tw: alcoholism#tw: bullying#tw: animal death#tw: death of a parent#tw: panic attack#tw: injury#tw: blood#tw: burns#tw: suicide attempt#tw: self harm#tw: depression
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The Edge of Tomorrow (5)
Pairing: Bucky x reader Modern AU
Summary: When Bucky Barnes’ arm gets blow off in Afghanistan, his mental state is shaky. Steve tells him that he needs someone to be with him to make sure he’s okay. You just happen to be the girl that answered the ad in the newspaper.
Chapter 5
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Hints of angst, fluff
Word Count: 1.4k
The air was nice and light, something Bucky wished he could feel all the time. You were seated across from him, your gaze fixed on the board littered with clear and foggy chess pieces. He waited for you to make your move, a small smile working its way onto his features as you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth in concentration. You finally opted to move your knight very hesitantly, keeping your finger on the piece for a few seconds after you moved it before letting go.
Bucky’s eyebrows rose as he analyzed your move. You just ruined his entire plan with one move, but he hadn’t played this game in…who knows how long, so he was a bit rusty. His blue eyes darted around the board looking for a strategic move, when a knock echoed through the apartment. Only then did he remember that Steve was coming today. You were staring at him with a questioning look, and he cleared his throat.
“That’s Steve, I think.” He spoke roughly.
Your eyes widened before looking at your clothes. You were wearing an old band t-shirt and rainbow fuzzy socks that peeked from under your sweatpants. “I’ll quickly go change.”
Bucky shook his head. He wanted to say, “You look beautiful.” But instead, he said, “Steve’s seen worse.”
He quickly realized what he said and backtracked. “Not that you look bad! I was just saying that if you did look bad, which you don’t, but if you did, he wouldn’t care because he’s seen worse.”
He winced as the words toppled out of his mouth. You’re an idiot, Barnes. Bucky scolded himself under his breath. He bravely peeked at you, and you had a soft smile on your lips.
“Well, thank you, I think?” You laughed.
Another knock echoed again, and Bucky rushed to his feet with a pink hue on his cheeks. “I’ll go get that.”
Bucky unlocked the door and welcomed Steve inside. Steve followed him into the living room. You waved at Steve as you took in his appearance. He had short blond hair and baby blue eyes, with a plaid read button up accenting his muscles and regular blue jeans adorning his legs. You stood up and walked over to him.
“Nice to meet you, Steve, I’m Y/n.” You said sticking out your hand.
Steve shook your hand and smiled. “Nice to meet you, too. So, uh, you’re living with Bucky, now?”
You nodded. “Yup. He’s a wonderful cook.”
“I made us box mac and cheese last night.” Bucky said with a small smile.
“And it was delicious! If you stir it, it’s homemade!” You argued.
Bucky chuckled softly and Steve smiled and nodded. “She’s good for you. This is the most I’ve seen you smile in a while.”
Bucky scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah…”
“Dot called me. She said she needed to talk to you, and that you won’t answer any of her texts or calls.” Steve said a little quieter to Bucky as you made your way to the kitchen.
Bucky tensed at the mention of her name. “Yeah, well, nothing she has to say will fix anything. She cheated on me, Steve. I come home with a missing arm, hoping to be with my girl after not seeing her for so long, only to find her and another man on my couch. She probably would’ve broken up with me anyway after she had seen the arm.”
Steve sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Dot’s a jerk, but she told me she had some of your stuff at her apartment, and she wanted to give it back.”
“She can burn it for all I care.” Bucky grumbled. “Tell her I don’t want to see her or her sorry excuse for a boyfriend ever again.”
“Alright, pal. Well, I’ve got to get back to the Center, and if you need anything, just call. It looks like you’re both doing good here. We also have game night at the Center every Tuesday if you’re interested. I just think it might do you some good to hang out with some of the other Vets.”
Bucky exhaled and scratched the top of his head. “I’ll think about it.”
“Okay. Oh, also, Sam said he was going to drop off some Jambalaya tonight, Sarah knows how much you love it. Sam said she made a LOT.”
A small smile worked its way onto Bucky’s face. “I do like Jambalaya.”
Steve grinned. “Great, have a nice day, Buck. Have a nice day, Y/n!” He called before walking out the door.
You and Bucky settled down and started playing your chess game again.
“Steve seems nice.” You commented as you moved your bishop.
A soft laugh escaped his lips. “Yeah, but he can be a pain sometimes. By the way, my friend, well, co-worker, Sam, is bringing over some Jambalaya for dinner tonight. His sister makes the absolute best. She’s amazing,”
“Sounds like someone has a little crush.” You said wiggling your eyebrows.
He barked out a full laugh this time. It felt nice. “Sam would have my head. Besides, I just flirt with her sometimes to thrown Sam off her trail. She’s been secretly dating some guy for a while.”
“Wow, a true lifesaver.”
“Sam can be a bit much at times, but he’s a good guy. He actually cares about people. It’s refreshing to see that in today’s world.” Bucky said replacing one of your pieces with his.
“Yeah. You’re a good guy, too, Bucky.”
He looked at you and the fond smile you were giving him made butterflies erupt in his stomach, a feeling he wasn’t exactly familiar with. He looked back down at the chess board with a bashful smile.
“Well, I’m glad someone thinks so.”
You were both silent as you continued the game. The only noise was the soft clinking of chess pieces against the board and your collective soft breathing. It was nice. You were nice.
“Do you like stargazing?” You asked, breaking the silence.
He looked up at you with a raised eyebrow. “Yes…why?”
You let out a soft laugh. “Sorry, that was random, I was just thinking maybe we could go stargazing tonight. I know a really nice spot, and I just thought it could help clear your head a bit.”
“Y-yeah. That would be nice.”
“Great.” You perked up. “I’ll pack some snacks too in case we get a little hungry.”
How were you so amazing? Bucky thought as he continued the game.
~~~~~
You helped Bucky put on his jacket, and his cheeks warmed with you being so close to him and with having to have help. He should be able to put on his own jacket, but he felt like a burden. He saw the look of horror on Dot’s face when he walked through the door. She may have been surprised that she was caught with another man, but he saw the way her eyes lingered on where his left arm should have been.
“Hey, is Bucky there?” You said tucking a strand of hair between his ear. ”Cause I think he might be lost in space.”
He snapped out of his thoughts and sighed. “Sorry, kinda spaced out for a second.”
“What were you thinking about?”
He shook his head. “N-nothing. Let’s go.”
You drove again. The drive was quiet, but there was a softness in the air, so it wasn’t awkward. You parked the car and grabbed the blanket from the backseat.
“We have to walk a little to get to the place, I hope that’s fine.” You said as he grabbed the snacks.
“I don’t mind.”
Bucky followed you and let out a small gasp when you got to a small clearing. You laid the blanket out and looked over at him with bright eyes.
“What do you think?”
“It’s nice.” He looked up. “And the sky is so clear that I feel way closer to the stars.”
You flopped onto the blanket, tugging him down with you. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he laid beside you. The butterflies came again, and he frowned slightly. You would never want to be with him. He was a broken man. You deserved someone better than him. He turned to look at you as you pointed out various constellations with much enthusiasm. He smiled and a warm feeling filled his chest. Maybe he should just enjoy your company for as long as he had you. Sooner or later, you would realize what kind of broken person he was, so he would just have to savor the butterflies and warm tingles while they lasted.
EoT Tags: @peaches1958
#Bucky Barnes#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#james buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes x reader#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky x Female Reader#bucky fanfic#modern au#angst#hailhydra920#bucky barnes fluff
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BNHA Dad scenario: You get your quirk! 2
Izuku: [You inherited your grandmother's quirk, you can telepathically pull objects towards you, but your is a tad bit stronger then hers.]
He was worried when you didn't show any signs of having a Quirk, and was mentally panicking that you'll wind up singled out like he was growing up! Of course today that was all going to change Izuku was taking a nap, when he heard something topple over, his green eyes opened as he looked over and saw you weren't sitting in front of the TV watching cartoons, he sat up now fully awake. "Y/n?" called out looking around the living room for his four year old.
then heard something fall in the kitchen. "Y/N!" Izuku jumped from the couch and ran into the kitchen to find you sitting on floor, mouth and hands covered chocolate with snack cake & cookie wrappers surrounding you; whimpering and holding your stomach, obviously not feeling well... Izuku was about to scold you for sneaking into the snack cupboard! But paused when he realized the snack cupboard was on top of the fridge... Way too high for you to reach. "Y/n, how did you get those cupcakes?"
You looked at him like a deer in the headlights... before turning green in the face and throwing up all the snacks you had stolen, causing your broccoli haired dad to briefly forget about what he was inquiring, pick you up and rush you to the bathroom!
He made sure you were on empty and got you in the bath and than cleaned the kitchen, he then went checked on you... just in time to see you telepathically pulled a bottle of bubble-bath off the shelf towards the tub, ready to pour it all out! only for him to grab it at the last second. "Nice try..." He huffed giving you a stern look, yes he's happy you weren't Quirkless, but that didn't mean you were off the hook for raiding the snack cupboard!
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Shoto: [Your mom's Quirk is called Cyclone breath, she can breath in air and blow out powerful winds, His ice half combined with her wind quirk, Creating yours: Frost-breath, which is pretty powerful on it's own, the only downside is that just like your mom if you over use it, you get asthma like symptoms, so you gotta carry around an inhaler.]
Your family had sat down to dinner, you were having mac and cheese, but it was little to hot so naturally you did the logical thing and blew on it! both your parents flinched at the sudden drop in temperature they looked at each other, then at you to see you gawking down at your now frozen dinner shock, giving them both this help me look.
It took a lot of training with your mom to figure out how breathe with without turning everything in front of you into a skating rink! It sucks you got to carry around an inhaler around now, but ever since your quirk manifested it been harder to breathe without it, That Your older cousin [Dabi kid.] and her creepy friend {Shigaraki kid} seemed love using you as their personal Air conditioner and popsicle maker in the summer despite your uncle Dabi telling them to stop!
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Warning here: Hawks scenario is fricking long! Cos my lazy but decided to combined two ideas into one, it might as well be it's own one shot!
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Hawks: [Technically You inherited your mom's quirk Cheshire, it's a teleportation quirk it kinda works like.... um, If anyone played God of War 4, It's like how the dwarves can slip between realms, like people can see it, but their minds can't properly comprehend it, so it just look like your walking behind a tree, only to be seen coming out from behind a flagpole a few feet opposite the way you were just walking, however you also have little red wings on top of your head.
that are pretty much useless, but they're the only thing (aside from his eyebrows) that you got from your dad, Which Hawks finds adorable especially when they flap up and down when your happy or puff up when your angry.]
You ran away from home some bullies at school and your mean babysitter had convinced you that you weren't Hawk's real daughter and your Quirk seem to solidify that theory, so while your sixth babysitter? (You lost count) was distracted, you packed up some clothes and a sandwich and left, the whole time watching this delusional woman, (She thinks she's dating Hawks) rummage and steal from your mom's memory box, not even concerned that you've been quiet this entire time.
That was fine you'll be long gone by the time she notices... you thought as you put your hat on to cover the tiny wings on your head, ignoring the itchy feeling you got from your fuzzy down feathers brushing against their nylon prison, You looked at your room one last time as you remember all the fun times had here before slipping away into oblivion... and stepping out of the haze from behind a light-post across the road from your apartment building, and started walking you didn't know where, but anywhere was better then here, maybe if your lucky you'll find your real parents... You paused and glanced back at the apartments one last time then kept walking... sniffling all the while.
Meanwhile...
Hawk took a break off patrol he had weird feeling in the pit of his stomach that something was wrong, as soon as he step through the balcony door his heart dropped, he couldn't sense you anywhere in the nest! his instincts were on fire! as his feathers surveyed the penthouse for you, then stilled when they sensed someone moving around in his room. Keigo's eyes narrowed as he silently walked to his room to find your babysitter going through his late wife's belongings wearing her jewelry…
"What do you think you're doing?!" he said through gritted teeth causing your baby to jump and whip her head around to see Hawks glowering at her rage in his eyes. "Honey...I mean Hawks! y-your home early...um um." she stammered something whizzed by her embedding itself in the wall behind her, she hastily started taking off the earrings and necklace and his wife's engagement ring, telling him it's not what it looks like!
He noticed her phone on the floor before she could stop him, his feather's snatched it he saw all the dating crap she'd lying and posting about, but really set him off was text she had sent talking about you... calling you an orphan and plans to send you away once Her Darling "opens his eyes" Keigo's rage reached it's boiling point, people can say whatever they want about him, But don't ever involve his little girl... it won't end well. Your babysitter watched in horror as Hawks destroyed her phone, then took a step back turned his death gaze on her.
"Get out, you're fired."
"But but… Hawks baby I lo-"
"Did I fucking stutter? I said get out!"
"*runs out of the penthouse crying*"
He knows that delusional woman was in the hall outside of his penthouse waiting for him come after her, she's not the first woman he hired who thought they're were the heroine to whatever fantasy they've concocted in their head, She'll find out pretty quickly that Hawks didn't give two craps about her as the apartment's security had been called to escort her out, what he cared about at the moment was; where. in. the. fuck. was. his. daughter? After the rage had subsided panic had soon set in as Hawks barged into your room the drawers were opened , your backpack and sleeping bag and [fav plush] were missing! Your dad started hyperventilating.
That woman... Had she done somethin to you?! He was going to call security and put her in holding ….Then Keigo felt it, that chill in his wings the familiar feeling of being physically pulled out of reality... he followed the feeling and he looked in your closet and found one of his feathers stuck...no, fused the wall, *You have her Quirk, Why didn't you tell me...* he thought then remembered what your mom had told him told him to do when his feather gets stuck in something... "Just clear your mind and think of me, your feather will find me …" Taking a deep breath Hawks closed his eyes thought about you, seeing you...finding you... like that the feather was free.
Meanwhile.
It had started to rain as you walked down through a park not sure how far you walked, but your feet and knees were hurting from the fall you had earlier, you saw some kids from your school got scared and ran you ended up tripping and rolling down a hill, scratching up your legs and covering your clothes in mud and grass stains...
While you were looking down at the ground moping a pair of shoes walked into your field of vision as a shadow sudden casted over you, your [y/ec] eyes looked up and saw a man wearing a dark hoodie that covered most of his face, his cerulean eyes regarded with mild concern. "You okay there kid?" he asked eyeing your legs and puffy eyes, That broke the dam all the stress and torment you endured the passed couple months all came out in loud wail..
The guy standing over you to panicked and tried shushing you, before picking you up and carrying you off, luckily bystanders mistook it for a parent dealing with their child's tantrum, and that's how you found yourself sitting on a bench under a bus shelter. while the man who introduced himself as Dabi put band-aids on your legs...which was strange, cos someone who looked like Dabi didn't look the type to carry glow-in the dark neon-rainbow band-aids! "They ain't mine...I got a kid about your age back home." the stapled faced man stated as if reading your mind, he sighed taking a seat next to you and examined your miserable expression, you looked very familiar but he couldn't quite place it... Something about those eye brows... he shook his head.
"Speaking of home, you gotta a number on ya? I bet yer parents are probably looking for yo-" You cut him off. "I don't have parents and no ones looking for me!" You huffed stubbornly Dabi cocked a brow very skeptical at that claim, and was about voice that thought when something red caught his attention... His cerulean eyes squinted at the pole the bus schedule was nailed to and was surprised to see a familiar red feather just kind of shot itself out from behind it...
He watched it kind of sway around before pointing directly at you. "You're sure no one's looking for you?" he said watching feather bristle then harden when he spoke up, his eye twitched knowing that was a mistake, if that was here then that meant... *Ew, someone actually reproduced with that Kentucky Fried Dumbass?!* Dabi snorted.
"I know he's not looking for me, he wasn't my daddy he just felt sorry for me...Just like everyone else."
"Well everyone else is an idiot... and your old man obviously cares for ya!"
"No he doesn't... he didn't even go to my school on parents day..."
"look, kid I don't know what's going on with you and Chicken-Tenders, but he obliviously loves you."
"How would you know?" You wept keeping your puffy eyes on the ground and tears fell from you eyes, Dabi's voice had nervous edge as he spoke up again. "Because he's here..." You looked up at the scarred man in disbelief, only to see him starring dead ahead with a serious expression on his face, the little wings on your head twitched under your hat as you followed his gaze just in time to see your dad land, But something was off...
His wings were darker than usual and his eyes were feral and scary looking, like he was going murder someone... "Dabi.." he growled fist clenched as he slowly walked towards the two of you, when said cremator slowly stood up causing your dad's feather's to go haywire. "Easy Hawks... You know I'm not in that business anymore." Dabi said calmly holding his hands up, this only made Hawks more agitated a low growl escaped his throat.
"Leave..." the blond hissed obviously giving Dabi one chance, the scarred just put his hands in his hoodie pockets and walked, but as he was passing your dad. "Might want to set that kid's head straight, cos you're on the verge of losing her for forever." Hawks shot him a glare as he went over to you who was curled up on the bench looking at your dad scared.
Dabi watched from a good distance as his old enemy resolved things with his daughter there was a lot of yelling at mainly him screaming "Why did you run, what were you thinking Y/n?! I already lost your mom I don't want to lose you too! …" a bus drove pass blocking out whatever else he was saying, as the bus passed Hawk now crouched at your level, he's guessing you were telling him what's going on...
Hawks looked devastated with every word you were saying. He said something to you before taking you hat off, giving Dabi a view of the little red wings on your head he looked at Hawks managing to read his lips "You may not have my power, but those are definitely my wings!" the two of you hugged before Hawks picked you up and flew away.
Dabi waited a few seconds before taking out his phone looking through his contact and picking [My Fairy] and waited a few moments. "Hey babe... how goes the homestead?" his wife told how things were going at the dive and him it was al none of the rowdy guys bothered her. "Good to hear... is the kid still up?" Dabi waited a few second hearing his wife call his daughter over. "Hey, Firefly, how you doing?" he smiled as his daughter told him how her day went. "That's good, I'll be home tomorrow, give yer mom a kiss for me alright?...I love you too, Firefly" He hummed and hung up started walking down the street.
Back to Hawks
You both took a few days off to cool down they went out of the city for a while and visited your mom's grave, Hawks hardly let you out of his sight if he wasn't in the room one of his feathers was always there. He let you sleep in his bed for the first couple nights, when it was time to go back to school.
You sighed expecting another babysitter or sidekick to take you, instead you were surprised to find you dad waiting for you, which was bewildering he's usually gone or sleeping when you leave. "Why are you here?" you asked bemused you dad smiled and patted your head. "I'm taking you school obviously." He said taking you over the balcony and picking you up.
"Hang on tight Chickadee." he said before lift off the wind felt nice blowing through your down feathers the little wings on your head started subconsciously started flapping, which caused your dad chuckle at cute display, when he finally made to your school all the kids were in awe to see the #2 pro-hero landing in there playground, but what really got the kids was the fact that he was carrying you!
Your teacher nervously came out the greet him where Hawks loudly exclaimed. "Oh, yes sorry for the late introduction and thank you for looking after my daughter." His sharp eyes carefully caught every face in playground and noticed a certain group of kids looking like a deer in the head lights. It didn't take him long to figure out who putting all that orphan crap in your head, he made note to have a word with they're parents...
Keigo was brought out of his thoughts by you tugging on him. "Daddy let me down." he looked at you bemused before remembering right school!... Damn it, he didn't want to let you go! your first day was months ago! He reluctantly set you on the ground but didn't let go of your hand. Why the hell was the separation anxiety kicking in now? *because you weren't there the first time...* he mentally berated himself for missing out on that mile stone several in fact.
The blond was confused why the school hadn't been calling him about you, he found out that one of his PR directors had been intercepting anything school related meant for Keigo and sending random representatives or sidekicks to attend them... Because apparently being a widowed father didn't look cool or edgy enough for the #2 hero's public image, Needles to say that guy wasn't part of Hawk's PR teams by the end of the day.
Keigo walked you the front door then crouched down at your level. "I'll be waiting right here when it's time go home, alright?" You nodded the and hugged your dad, (who may or not of slipped a feather on you, just in case.) "Have a good day, I love you." You nodded as walked inside leaving your dad outside, he stared at the school by before taking a deep breath and flying off...
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{Wing horns photo source from a Manga called: Demon mother!}
#bnha scenarios#bnha imagines#boku no hero academia#izuku x reader#izuku midoriya#shoto todoroki x reader#shoto torodoki#hawks x reader#keigo takami#bnha dabi#long post
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she is very long so. enjoy😌
- Steve n Bucky going to the bodega down the street from their apartment. it’s open till like 4am and they go at all hours. sometimes they’ll go separately but they always go together when they go in between 12-4 am and no one who works there questions why
- they get a cat that they treat her like their child. it’s Alpine ofc😌 steve loves her so much but he knows it’s Bucky’s Cat and he’s fine with it
- you know how some siblings or partners or friends can communicate with their eyes and basically have telepathy? they totally have that and it annoys the shit out of every single person they meetjdksndks. someone will be talking to them and they will just make eye contact with each other bc it reminded them of an earlier convo they had or they both got annoyed by the other person or it reminds them of an inside joke or something and it just irritates EVERYONE. no one is able to intercept it and it’s just a thing that no matter what - even though they don’t mean to - you’ll feel a little left out when you’re with steveandbucky. it just comes with the gig. i like to imagine that depending on if it’s an au or not, its either really obvious or not. like in an au then yes it’s obvious they can have non verbal conversations, but if it’s not an au then it’s not entirely obvious bc they’re enhanced humans and they know how to hide their secret conversations. but everyone they talk to is essentially an enhanced human or has special abilities so it’s obvious to them and they catch them in the act LOL. if they’re interacting with regular people then it’s not very obvious though
- DATE NIGHT!!! yes they’re old yes they have date night. when they go out it’s usually to places in their neighborhood, but a lot of the time they like to stay in bc. they’re old men <3 steve is better at cooking and bucky is better at baking bc you can get creative with cooking and steve likes that more. he enjoys baking a lot too but he thinks bucky’s stuff tastes better. whenever they stay home though there’s ALWAYS a movie. always. they alternate choosing but there is always a movie to watch. bucky usually falls asleep nearing the end and steve plays with his hair😌 he rolls his eyes cause it happens every time but he actually likes when it happens bc he can braid strands of hair together
- pet names oh my god. so many pet names. every single one. mainly from bucky. steve uses them but maybe like two. he favors sweetie and buck and that’s it really. sometimes he uses hon. bucky though oh my god. every single pet name under the sun. so many variations of doll you wouldn’t believe - baby doll ofc, dolly, stevie doll. sweetheart. sweetness. blondie. pretty boy. hot stuff. stevie. baby. hon. honey. sunshine. angel. it’s just so many. and it’s like very sickening insane twisted etc but hot at the same time. most people are like jeez barnes do you ever shut up… but most of these people secretly think it’s a little hot theyre thinking damn where is that affection for me…. i need me a bucky barnes :| steve is the only smitten kitten outwardly even if he huffs and puffs sometimes but it’s obvious he enjoys it. like they are so annoyingjdkssn for real they aren’t a pda couple really but the petnames….. so many. so so so many it’s sickeningly sweet but bucky dgaf! steve is his sweetheart his dolly his baby his angel so he’s going to call him these things!
- steve knows his body is what is considered “perfect” but he still is insecure about it around most people and bucky knows this so when steve lounges at home in bucky’s boxer briefs and his own tee shirt or he kicks off his pants when he’s too hot at night in bed bucky is reminded of just how much steve loves him and feels comfortable around him which is something he always strives for - to make steve comfortable. not baby him because steve bitches at anyone that does that to him but to make him feel comfortable
- and on the subject of feeling comfortable i imagine that they always check in with one another but it’s very subconscious they hardly realize they do it. like steve will bitch at bucky to pick up his shoes from their doorway or to clean his hair from the shower drain but the next second he will ask him if his back still hurts from being kicked by sam and from where steve AND alpine scratched him (in very different ways)
- steve is the sweater husband and bucky is the sweatshirt husband. they trade off a lot but that’s just how their closets look
- steve takes a liking to crop tops 😌 but ONLY around the house bc again he’s really truly only comfortable around bucky. he wears em with boxer briefs or sweatpants but you can guarantee that the briefs and sweats usually just end up on the floor 9 out of 10 times
- hair ties everywhere. they can be found on the floor in the laundry in their bed in the couch on top of the fridge on their fire escape. they are literally everywhere. steve just picks them up and puts them in the bathroom but they always make their way back. he doesn’t say anything to bucky until he finds alpine chewing one and she ends up smacking herself in the face with the hairtie
- their fridge is always full with leftovers and food from sam or clint’s or whoever’s house or takeout. they always eat it all but they get and make a lot of food so the fridge is always full
- subconsciously bucky always has a hand on the back of steve’s neck. like it’s not ENTIRELY a possessive thing but he used to do it a lot when steve was small because it was easy and it was comfortable. for him and just for him and steve. it was like swinging an arm around steve’s shoulders or putting a hand on his shoulder. it was just natural and easy so he did it. a part of him back then prewar did it possessively too, but he always tampered that down bc steve wasn’t his. now he does it without shame
- steve really likes tofu and vegan meat, non dairy milk like almond and soy, and overall a lot of non dairy vegan foods, and a lot of fruits. he gets made fun of for a lot specifically about the vegan stuff but his reasoning is that there’s so much food accessible for people with allergies in the future that he wished existed a hundred years ago so he’s going to try it and stick with it if he likes it. people shut up after that
- he also tips a little more than he needs to everywhere he goes. everywhere. like it’s cool when steve rogers walks in to a restaurant bc he’s a superhero or whatever but its REALLY cool because he leaves a generous tip and that’s what really makes peoples day
- before they get legally married they are still very much married. like “i packed you lunch, meet me at the restaurant instead of me going to pick you up bc it’ll take longer, i got takeout let’s bitch together while we watch shitty reality tv, let’s bitch at EACH OTHER through the phone in public, let’s send each other ugly pictures of each other or funny texts while we’re right next to each other, i’m out with a group and you’re not there and i say multiple times ‘i miss steve/bucky’, let’s yell at each other from opposite ends of the apartment instead of getting up to see each other, steve i’m going to fuck you on the couch bc our room is too far, etc.” they are just very much married without the documents and legalities and it’s very obvious
okay all of these were ABSOLUTELY wonderful and im really going to restrain my urge to respond to each and every one but that might be futile
-okay YES they definitely go to that bodega at all hours, and usually it's for normal things when they go separately: milk, cereal, toilet paper. but when they go in the middle of the night, they almost always purchase some like odd assortment of candies and deli meat. also, they're always in their pajamas. like bucky's in plaid pj pants and a star wars sweatshirt, and steve is in like 5" shorts and a huge crewneck and they're both in slides and they definitely only speak russian to each other when they're in there after hours
-yes alpine! they also have a dog, that is more steve than bucky's!! his name is norman in my headcanon (and a couple of my fics) and he is best boy
-okay i need more of this in my general stucky life: steve and bucky being like,,, best friends as well as lovers and being so seamlessly close. like yeah, they definitely talk with their eyes, or just one glance, or half-sentences ("hey, did you ever get to--" "yup, on the way home. it was so--" "yeah, good. glad to hear") and they know exactly what the other is saying.
-yes to the date nights!!! and when they stay in to watch movies, they make Tons of popcorn. and they Have to make separate batches, because steve will Only eat his with like half a bottle of that powdered white cheddar on his
-YES we share the same fucking headcanon for petnames on god
Steve: love you, buck:)
Bucky: love you, pumpkin
-Steve definitely has body dysmorphia, probably even post serum (I have lots of thoughts on this, that might be a different post) and yeah, Bucky definitely knows its Big that he feels comfortable enough to be exposed around him (and he's even more honored that steve lets him be intimate with him, because that's really hard for steve, too)
-yeah! and easy check ins like "ur stomach still bothering you from last night?" "oh, no it was just a little bug turns out" or like "my head hurts:(" "i have meds in my bag. you want?" "yeah, just two" or like subtly checking on injuries, yeah
-yeah the sweater versus sweatshirt tracks tbh i picture steve in a lot of crewnecks so yeah
-STEVE IN CROP TOPS STEVE IN CROP TOPS and i raise you they're often ones he's cropped himself and he's also painted on! or bleach painted!! and theyre so cool and bucky never wants to make a big deal out of it, but he's so proud of steve for expressing himself like that
-ALPINE SMACKING HERSELF ALKFJALSDKFJA also steve always has a hairtie on HIS wrist in case bucky forgets one for himself
-they also always have Steve Staple Foods cuz i headcanon steve as a picky eater (adhd!steve + serum enhancements, it's down to a formula) so they have a lot of Kraft mac and cheese and easy heat up meals and lunch meats around for when he's having bad food days
-OMG and steve absolutely MELTS i raise you, too, bucky will especially hold the back of his neck when he needs to get steve to Chill Out. so like if he sees him stressing he'll put his hand on the back of his neck and squeeze and literally feel the tension drain from him or like if steve is having a panic attack, he'll hold the back of his neck while they breathe together
-yes and also any time that steve is Choosing food for himself and feeling motivated to eat it, it's a win, so people learn to back off there, too
-yes! he tips generously, but never awkwardly or offensively. he's also super kind and patient to food service workers!
-this last point is so perfect i cant. like yeah, back to steve and bucky just being,,,, the best of friends. ugly selfies galore, shoving their feet in each other's face, flicking each others ears. and yes, all the fucking gossiping. on the phone gossip, venting, fun gossip from around work. they talk about it all. and it's so great for them
thank you again for stopping by! your thoughts are impeccable!
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Cinnamon and Sugar
Chapter Three
Warnings: language, fluff, mentions of a toxic relationship, small angst
Characters: Dean, Reader, Benny Lafitte (mentioned only)
Pairings: Dean x Reader
Word Count: 1.8k
Dean let you sit in his car until the rain let up a bit. "God, I hate the rain." He grumbled.
"I love it." You whisper, your eyes wandering the parking lot. "When I was younger, and there was a thunderstorm, me and my siblings would make a fort and huddle underneath it together. We loved it when the power would go out. We would light candles and grab flashlights and play board games in the dark. Sometimes Andrew would read to us. But uh - it would be scary stories," You smiled. "He would scare the ever living crap out of us. Lena and Josh would would cuddle into my side, no matter how much I hated it, they would still do it."
"You really love your siblings." Dean noted, swallowing hard, memories of Sam flooding his head.
"I do." You nodded. "They're all I have. Sure, I have my parents, but it's not the same, you know? Growing up, my siblings and I fought like dogs and cats, but we knew each other better than anyone, even our parents. Even when I go months without seeing them, when we all get together, it's like we're still little kids, ya know? We goof around, we argue, we joke. It's like none of us ever grew up."
Dean stayed silent for a moment, and you weren't sure if your message was getting across. "Look, I know we don't know each other very well, but what I'm trying to say is, call your brother. I don't know what happened between you two, but it's obvious that you love him. You shouldn't waste all your time worrying about whether you should contact him first or if he's angry with you. Time is a precious thing and people often waste it."
"Damn, you're wise." Dean gave a quiet chuckle. "But you're right. I will call him soon, I'm just not ready yet." And with that, the Impala was enveloped in silence again. That is, until Dean's stomach let out a loud rumble. "Sorry," He apologized with a sheepish grin.
"Don't worry about it." You shrugged. "It looks like the rains letting up. Do you want to come inside and I can fix you some food?"
"Oh, I don't want to impose." He shook his head.
"Nonsense. You gave me a ride home, this is the least I can do."
Dean silently debated whether or not he should take you up on the offer, but ultimately agreed, seeing as he was starving. By the time you were under cover, you were both soaked.
As soon as you opened the door to your apartment, you were met with a warm blast of heat. A pleasant shiver ran down your spine.
You began to click your tongue, calling out for your moody cat. "Storm, c'mere buddy." Your cat glared at you stubbornly from his place on the window seal. You rolled your eyes, slipping off your jacket and hanging it over the back of the chair.
"Sorry," You apologized to Dean. "My cat's being a little bitch." The man let out a laugh at your comment. "I gave him a bath and clipped his claws yesterday; now he's pissed at me."
"How in the hell do you cut a cat's nails?" He questioned, his eyebrows furrowed.
"Very carefully." You noticed that Dean was shivering. "Let me grab you a towel. I think I have some of my exes clothes. You're about the same size."
He was going to object when you silenced him with a look. You went to your room and began rummaging around in your draws, eventually finding a pair of black sweat pants and a grey hoodie.
"Try this," You said, handing Dean the clothes. "They should fit. You can change in the bathroom; it's the first door on the right."
While Dean went to change, you did the same. You exited your bedroom dressed in a pair of black leggings and a UK sweatshirt.
You noticed that Dean still wasn't out yet, so you went to start some food. You contemplated on what you should cook before ultimately deciding that mac and cheese would do. It was a comfort food, after all.
It would take a bit longer than usual, since you were making it from scratch, but Dean had said earlier that he had nowhere to be.
"Smells good in here." Dean noted when he walked out of the bathroom. Seeing him in Michael's clothes made your heart stop for a second, and not in a good way.
Dean and Michael had many similarities, the hair color, height, demeanor, etc. And you didn't want to be reminded of that man.
"Thanks," You said nonchalantly. "It's nothing special, but I thought you'd like it."
"So," Dean started, leaning against the counter. "This is a nice little set up you've got here."
"It's not much, but it's home." You shrugged as you stir the pot of noodles. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Storm sneaking around the corner of the kitchen, hoping for some food or a treat.
"How long have you lived here?" Dean asked.
"About five years." You informed him. "Ever since I turned eighteen I've been living on my own."
"How come?"
"You know the thing parents always say? 'As long as you live in my house, you follow my rules'? Well, I didn't like their rules so I got myself this apartment and I've lived here ever since."
Dean snorted. "Yeah, my old man was like that too. I actually did the same thing as you did. 'Cept I came back 'bout a week later." He laughed. "I was too dependent on my dad and brother. I have never lived alone before then; and to be honest, I hate living by myself. I still do."
"You never got roommates?"
"I had a few. There was Mick and Cas. Of course, I can't forget Benny." He grinned. "But they're all gone now."
"Benny?" You mumbled. "As in Benny Lafitte?"
"Yeah, why? You know him?"
"Do I?" You rolled your eyes. "That idiot's my cousin."
"Really?" Dean said excitedly. "I haven't heard from him in ages, how's he doing?"
"He's loving by the coast, and the last I heard, he met some girl named Andrea and he is head over heels in love."
"That's great." Dean smiled. "I really happy for him."
"Yeah, I expect to get an invitation to his wedding so enough. The way he talks about her, you would think he's known her his entire life."
"That's sweet. Benny seems like the guy that falls hard after one date."
"Oh yeah, he definitely is." You giggle. "He calls me after one date and says, 'Y/N, I think I'm in love. If I sent you a picture of a wedding ring, would you look at it and tell me what you think?'"
"No way!" Dean laughed.
"Yes! I had to talk him down from buying an engagement ring! I told him to wait for a year and a half, and then revisit the subject of marriage. Times almost up and he's still fawning over her. But I'm happy for him, he definitely deserves this."
You sprinkled bread crumbs on top of the Mac and cheese before popping it in the oven for a few minutes.
"You put break crumbs on your mac and cheese?" Dean questioned.
"You don't?"
"Never tried it." He shook his head.
"You caveman." You sighed. "I will just have to train you." Dean gave a harmonious laugh, which, in turn, made you laugh as well.
You grabbed a towel and pulled the mac and cheese out of the oven. You scooped some onto a plate and handed it to Dean. Both of you sat down at your small kitchen table and began to dig in.
"Oh my god." Dean said, his mouth full with food. "That is the best mac and cheese I've ever had."
"See? Told you it would be good."
"I'll never doubt you again." He mumbled as he shoveled more into his face.
You ate in a comfortable silence until there was a knock at your door. "I'll be right back." You told Dean as you opened the door.
"Mr. Pierce." You said nervously. "What can I help you with?" You knew what he wanted. And you sure as hell didn't have it.
"You're behind on rent, Y/N. I need the money, or I'll have no choice but to evict you." You felt your heart drop to your stomach.
"I-I don't have it right now. My hours have been cut and I-"
"I'm sorry, Y/N. You're a good girl, but I need someone who will lay rent on time every month. I really hate to do this, but I want you out in two weeks."
"I-It's okay, Mr. Pierce," You assured him shakily. "I understand." And with that, he was gone. You gave a shaky breath as you leaned on the door.
"Y/N?" Dean called, approaching the living room. "What's going on? Are you okay?"
"I will be." You nodded.
"What happened?" Dean questioned gently.
"I just got my eviction notice." You deadpanned. Dean's mouth popped open in shock. "I have to be out in two weeks."
"Crap, sweetheart. I'm sorry. What are you going to do?"
"Couch surf for a while, maybe? I know Jo will let me stay with her for a couple of days, but if her landlord catches me there, he'll throw her out too."
"What about your parents?"
You gave a cold laugh. "No, they'll never let me come home. I would stay with my older brother, but he's overseas right now. So honestly, I don't know what I'm going to do."
Dean stayed silent for a moment before speaking up. "You could come live with me." He suggested.
"Dean, I really appreciate the offer, but I can't impose on you like that."
"It's okay," He assured you. "I have an extra bedroom. And it's not imposing if I'm asking. Besides, like I said before, I hate living on my own."
"Dean, we barely know each other." You tried to reason.
"Hi, my name is Dean Winchester, I'm an Aquarius, I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and frisky women." You let out a loud laugh. "There, now you know more about me."
"Dean-"
"Just think about it. If you can't find anywhere else to live, my door's always open. I have to go, but here's my number," He said, writing down his phone number on a sticky note. "If you need anything, call me." Dean gave you a small smile before he walked out the door.
You flopped on the couch, staring up at ceiling. Storm jumped up on your chest, purring loudly. You gently scratched his back. "What should I do, Storm?" You asked. "Would you want to live wYou flopped on the couch, staring up at ceiling. Storm jumped up on your chest, purring loudly. You gently scratched his back. "What should I do, Storm?" You asked. "Would you want to live with Dean? You seemed to like him." Storm gave a tiny meow, his eyes closing shut. "Real big help there, buddy."ith Dean? You seemed to like him." Storm gave a tiny meow, his eyes closing shut. "Real big help there, buddy."
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Tag List:
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#deanwinchtser#dean winchester imagine#dean x reader#dean winchester au#dean winchester x reader#Sam Winchester#sam winchester imagine#castiel imagine#benny lafitte#supernatural fluff#supernatural#supernatural au#dean winchester x yn#dean winchester x y/n#dean winchester x you#supernatural imagine#supernatural x reader#coffee shop au#jo harvelle#Kevin Tran#jack kline#castiel#ash#bobby singer
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No Worse Company
gif credit: @holylulusworld
Dean Winchester x Reader
Words: 2385
The Deal S2 E2: Series Masterlist
Summary: The reader copes with her return while Jody tries to get a hold of the boys. Cas deals with what Lucifer did while possessing him.
Notes: Here’s the next part in Chapter Two of the Deal Anthology! I hope you guys enjoy it. This one feels a little like a filler, but I’m really excited for the next part.
-
He couldn’t stop looking. After everything that happened- all of the pain and the anguish, all of it his fault- he couldn’t stop looking. He had to find Lucifer and he had to put him back in hell. He owed you that.
Driving down the road in his stolen truck, Cas’ eyes fell on the passenger seat. He frowned. That drive to St. Louis didn’t seem so long ago anymore. Sam and Dean’s cries as they watched the hellhound tear you apart were still fresh in his mind. He had turned away. At the time, he thought it's what you would have wanted. For him to have his final memory of you be one of your smiling face, content with the family you had found. Now he felt like he had turned his back on you. Now he was cursed to see your screaming face forever.
He had to find Lucifer.
Cas glanced down at his cellphone and sighed. Multiple missed calls and unopened messages from Dean filled his screen. He couldn’t face them. Not until he found the Devil.
-
One Week Ago
The police officer that found you had found some clothes that were two sizes too big but you took them gratefully nonetheless. You were sitting at her desk, staring blankly at a photo beside her computer. Her big happy family smiled over a picnic table on a beautiful sunny day. You wanted to put your fist through it.
“Alright sweetheart, I’ve got someone on their way to pick you up.” The officer gave you a small smile.
“Did you find Dean?”
“Not exactly.” She pulled up a seat across from you. “It’s a good thing I was the one that found you. I don’t know much about those Winchesters, but I know that if any other cop in this joint put them through the system, they’d probably take you in for questioning. Fortunately for you, I have a friend up North that told me to give her a call if I ever heard the names Sam or Dean Winchester.”
“Look, I appreciate your help, but I can’t stay here.” You stood up, but she blocked your path.
“Well you’re certainly not going out there on your own.” Her expression was caring, but stern. “I don’t know what happened to you, honey, but I know that going out alone will only make things worse for you.”
“Believe me, I can handle myself.” Nothing in this woman’s imagination could even remotely describe everything that had happened to you. Still, the officer stood her ground.
“Right now you’ve got two choices. You can either stay here and one of the other officers will take you to a hospital, or you can come with me and we can meet Jody half-way.”
“Wait… Jody?” Your face softened, the idea of seeing a familiar face warming your cool exterior.
“Yeah, Sheriff Jody Mills up in Sioux Falls.” She put her hands on her hips. “Do you know her?”
Jody, even though she wasn’t much older, was like a mother to you. She helped you and boys out when you needed and had saved your life on more than one occasion. You pictured being enveloped in one of her hugs and a small smile crept onto your face.
“I used to.”
“Then let's get moving. We can get you something to eat on the way there.” The officer grabbed her keys and started towards the parking lot. As you followed her, something caught your eye. Your face reflected back at you in the glass of the window and a moment of panic nearly took you off your feet. Your eyes were black.
-
Now
You could tell that Jody had been walking on eggshells for the past week. After everything that was going on, you couldn’t really blame her. When she saw you the first time, she tried to kill you, thinking you were a shapeshifter or some other kind of monster. When she realized that it was really you, she was speechless for the entire ride back to Sioux Falls.
Jody had been trying to get a hold of Dean for the past couple of days, but to no avail. The longer you waited, the more and more you debated running away in the middle of the night. Could you face him? Jody said that you’d been ‘dead’ for three years. A lot had changed. You knew that you were his Y/N anymore. Maybe he wasn’t your Dean.
“Coffee?” Jody offered, holding a mug in front of you.
“Thanks.” You took the warm ceramic mug and held it between your palms. The heat spread across your skin as the smell wafted up to your nose. Who knew a cup of coffee could hold so many memories. Sitting across from Dean in the kitchen of the bunker or looking over a case with Sam in the middle of the night with only caffeine to keep you going.
“I might be a little later at the station today. Do you think you’ll be okay here?”
“I think I can handle a few more hours of daytime television and boxed mac and cheese, Jody.” You smirked. She shook her head with a light chuckle.
“I have to say, I missed that snark of yours.” She finished her own coffee before putting on her coat. “Now you call if you need anything, okay? I’m going to try and get a hold of the boys again.”
“Jody…” You started, but looking at her hopeful face, you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. Of course she would think that reuniting everybody would solve everything. She didn’t know what was lurking under your skin. You put on a smile. “Have a great day.” She put a hand on top of yours.
“You too, sweetie.”
She glanced back at you with a flash of concern before the front door closed behind her.
“I thought she’d never leave.” The voice made you jump out of your seat, the coffee mug sent shattering on the floor. A woman walked in from the hallway with a smug smile on her face. You lunged across the table, reaching for a knife from the counter. She grabbed your arm and pinned it to the table. With a single blink, her eyes turned jet black. “Boo.”
“Lavina.” You gasped, trying to yank your arm away.
“Aw, you missed me.” She laughed, raking her nails across the back of your hand just deep enough to break the skin. “So how’s my little protégé doing back up top?”
“How are you here?” She let you go and you examined the scratches.
“What? You think the security in Hell is really the top priority right now?” She wandered around the kitchen, picking up the knife you had been reaching for and twisted it back and forth in the light. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to kill you. That’d be too easy.”
“Then what do you want?”
“I’m just checking in to see how you’re holding up.” Lavina flipped on the radio and laughed at the tune. It was just the last few seconds, but it still sent a chill up your spine.
“You know that you’re the only one to say okay. But you’re motorin’ yeah motorin’.”
“I remember this one.” Lavina smirked. “Didn’t this used to be you and dreamboat Dean’s song?”
“Shut up.”
“What? Aren’t you excited to see your sweetie-pie Winchester again?” She read the fear behind your glowering eyes and chuckled. “Or maybe you don’t want to see him. Maybe you know.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about you black-eyed bitch.”
“Maybe you know that whatever soul you’ve got walking around in that meat suit isn’t all you anymore.” The song on the radio ended and you recognized the next song as Bad Company. “Man, this station is on fire this morning! There’s no worse company than yourself when you’ve become what you have.”
You tried to block out her words, but you knew that she was right. So you turned away so she wouldn’t have the satisfaction of seeing your fear. Your fists clenched at your sides.
“Get out.”
“Sooner or later, you’ll be begging to come back to me. Begging to finally tear all of those souls apart. Begging to embrace what you really are. Let’s just hope you realize it before your precious Dean gets hurt.”
Bad, bad company til the day I die
With an angered scream, you grabbed a plate and hurled at Lavina’s head. She caught it and held it out in front of her. Clicking her tongue, she let it fall to the floor. The sound of the ceramic shattering made you jump.
“Don’t worry. You’ll know how to find me.” The pieces cracked under her boots as she walked across the kitchen and vanished down the hall.
You were shaking- from rage or from terror, you didn’t know. The image of your reflection back at the police station had been haunting your thoughts ever since. You had yet to look into another mirror out of fear of what you’d see. Lavina was right. Whatever Amara had brought back, it wasn’t you.
-
Sam was surprised when Jody told him to meet her at the station rather than at her house. Maybe Dean was right. Something just felt off about this whole thing. Dean’s whole body was tense, his eyes scanning every part of the room, expecting to see a monster ready to pounce.
“There you boys are.” Jody let out an exasperated sigh and pulled both Winchesters into a hug. Both could tell how freaked she was. Sam pushed back and put his hands on her shoulders.
“Jody, what’s going on? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. There’s just… there’s a different problem back at my house.”
“Is something wrong with Alex? Or Claire?”
“No, no. It isn’t them. Alex has been taking a nursing course in Rapid for the past two weeks and god knows where Claire is.” She ushered them into her office and closed the door. “No, this is… weirder. It’d be best for you guys to just see for yourselves, but I wanted to prep you first.”
“Prep us for what?” Dean asked, that deep feeling in his gut returning. Jody looked at him with sympathetic eyes.
“For what you’re going to see.”
“Jody, what are you talking about?”
“I can’t explain it. I don’t know what happened. One minute I’m dealing with a couple of pot-smoking kids and the next I’m getting a call from a friend of mine saying that…” She took a deep breath to keep from rambling. “Like I said, it’s better for you to just go and see her yourselves.”
Sam and Dean exchanged a look and Dean’s forehead creased with confusion.
“Her?”
-
Cas stood alone, looking out on the vast lake before him. His search was getting him nowhere and nothing was helping with the visions. Everywhere he looked, he saw hands slick with your blood. Every car horn or singing bird was replaced by your screams. He was supposed to be your friend. Lucifer used that against him.
“Cas, please I know you’re in there somewhere.” You cried, just earning another punch to the gut.
“I’ve got to admit, you’re holding up a lot better than Dean ever did down here. Only took him 30 years to give in. It’s been, what, 300 for you?” He blew out a low whistle. “For a while, I liked having Crowley as my chew toy, but when I found out you were down here, man I just couldn’t resist.” He laughed as he ran his finger down your bloody arm.
“Cas…” You pleaded, screaming when he drew a blade down your face, just missing your eye. Blood dripped from your temple, making it hard to see You were used to pain by now, but this was different. This was looking at the face of your friend and seeing only malice.
“Lavina told you about good old Dean getting ganked by Metatron, right?” Cas’ gave you a fake pout. No, not Cas. Lucifer. “I mean, come on. Metatron? Of all the angels in heaven that’s the one that quote-unquote ‘Michael’s Sword’ bites the bullet for?” He laughed picking something up from the table. “I guess that’s not really the right expression, right? His death went a little more like this.”
He shoved the angel blade deep into your chest and your mouth fell open, but no scream came out. He grabbed you by the hair and lifted you up so his lips were by your ear.
“All of this- the suffering and the torture- was for nothing. You saved Dean only for him to die a few months later. You’re death meant nothing. You mean nothing.” When he let you go, you fell to the floor, held up only by the chains on your wrist. Your blank eyes stared back up at him. Not that it mattered. You’d be awake soon enough for him to start over.
-
When they got to Jody’s house, Dean had one hand on his pistol and the other clenched at his side. Sam stood up a little too straight, clearly on edge from whatever lay beyond that door. Jody turned the key and the three went inside. When Jody got to the kitchen, however, her face fell.
“Damnit.” She muttered, pulling out her own weapon. The boys joined her, looking down at the shattered plate on the floor. Sam and Dean went to search other rooms in the house while she cautiously opened the back door and peaked out into the yard. With a sigh, she holstered her gun. “Out here, boys!”
Sam was first, but he froze on the spot. He just stared, eyes wide and heart pounding. Dean had to push past him to get out the door. When he did, that feeling in his gut made him sick to his stomach. The last time he saw that face, it was being torn apart.
You dropped the whiskey bottle into the grass and felt tears welling up in your eyes. He was finally here.
“Dean…” You gasped, wanting to reach for him, but you couldn’t move. You were frozen under his glaring eyes. It wasn’t until his pistol was aimed at your head that you snapped out of it.
-
General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks; @kendahl0216
Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp; @vicmc624; @halesandy; @livshaes; @d-whinchestergirl87; @mrspeacem1nusone; @crist1216
The Deal Series: @writeroutoftime; @ minninugget; @mia-ono; @erule; @ dannyo000
#dean winchester x reader#the deal#bad company#sam winchester#jensen ackles#supernatural imagine#jody mills#supernatural#castiel#lucifer#dean winchester#the winchesters#demons#hell#the deal anthology
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Okey! Some Autistic Timmy thoughts, coming right up! (Most of these are self projection lol😅)
1. HATES chalk. Like really, really hates it. The texture is the WORST it gets on his hands and he HATES it so so so much. He touches chalk and immediately has the urge to rip his skin off. The first time he touched chalk as a toddler he actually started crying.
2. Needless to say, his life is pretty unstructured. This doesn't really bother him, HOWEVER, if his "suiting up in the cave" routine is interrupted it WILL mess up his entire day. If he's suiting up at home or anywhere else it's fine, but for some reason he's particular about the cave routine. Luckily Bruce is also a very routine oriented person so it's not a big deal, but when someone else is in charge and it changes it bothers him. He can still function perfectly well, he just gets more anxious than usual.
3. Kraft mac n cheese is his comfort food. He measures out the ingredients exactly so it will taste the same every time.
4. Watched a documentary about ocean creatures when he was 8 and memorized the whole thing. Can and will tell you the creepiest and most disturbing facts from it if prompted to.
5. Rocks in his chair when he's sitting and thinking, to the point where the floor around his desk has scratch marks. He's fallen over and bonked his head many times and it drives Alfred insane.
6. This one is actually supported by canon to an extent but I think he really likes labelling things with the Robin symbol. It's fun and easy to draw and it gives him a little serotonin boost every time he see's one of his things labeled like that. Bruce noticed it and always makes sure to label all of Tim's new gear before he gives it to him. To make things easier to distinguish, of course. Because it would definitely be so easy to mistake the primary colored xx small clothes and gadgets for belonging to anybody else.
Sorry, not all of these are directly related to autism I guess. I just put things that I see commonly in myself and other autistic people that I thought he might also do. Love your blog btw!
I honestly really love these to be honest, cause I can really easily picture Tim doing all of these kinds of stuff. Like it fits in amazingly well with his personality. I mean I don’t know about the chalk and Mac and Cheese, but that’s purely because I don’t think you could tell that from a personality, but you can get what I mean lol. It’s all great.
I actually had the Robin one myself too, at least kind of. Maybe not a label specifically on everything, but I can picture him just having a Robin symbol of everything that’s his rather it was bought that way like the symbol on his shirt or a backpack, to the labels and tags on other things because Robin just means so much to him.
Now it’s got me imagining it on LITERALLY everything, like Dick, Cass, Babs maybe even, and Timmy himself all having a sleepover party in the living room or cave or something, and someone nearly grabs Tim’s pillow and blanket and he gets jumpy like “Hey, no, that ones mine!”, which isn’t even tellable at first because this ones just his plain pillow and blanket, not his merch one. But he yoinks it out of their hand and shows them a personally made label in the form of a little tiny tag on them both.
If you put out all of the Batkids stuff in front of you (I’m imagining like all neat and folded and each person’s stuff is in their own little group next to the other people’s stuff’s also grouped), it’d be so obviously Tim’s (I mean besides no one else being able to fit into his tiny tiny clothes). Like “Okay, Robin flashlight, Robin lunchbox, Robin jammies, Robin blanket, Robin socks, Robin shirt, Robin labeled short pants, Robin cap, Robin band-aids, Robin sweater, Robin jacket, Robin briefs, Robin wrist watch, Robin nightlight, Robin label on the grappling hook, Robin label in the boots and as a shape on the sole, Robin toothbrush, Robin hairbrush, Robin--okay hmm. Who’s is this?”
Not that he wears all of it at once, but just having the option makes him unreasonably happy, and he can’t even really explain it to a Dick or Cass who may ask, but it just does.
Dick sarcastically asks him: “Was the Robin identity and costume not enough?”
When there’s a mess somewhere, you can always tells what’s Tim’s to be able to give it to him.
I also really like the one about his routine cause it feels like that thing that would just nag at Tim and he can’t really explain it. Like everything's going well, he has everything, but the school changes the schedules for everyone and Tim’s just uncomfortable for the rest of the day. He just doesn’t like it.
Ends up making him do these little checks to make sure he has all of his gadgets too, and Bruce could’ve sworn he checked like twice already on everything, but Tim just has to do it or else he’ll be upset for the rest of his night.
Same with Y.J. when he goes to Mount Justice he also had to do these routines and Bart and Kon catch on and try to mess it up sometimes when they’re feeling extra pranky, but I figure either Cassie or maybe even Slobo of all people figures out why Tim always seems perpetually grumpy or upset at them afterwards, so they eventually knock it off. Included with an apology even if it does sound half-assed at first.
Like I could go all day with the little visions popping in my head with the headcanons, but I really like it.
Oh! And thank you for enjoying my blog! That's amazing of you.
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for @flippyspoon , who’s having a tough day and wanted autumn!harringrove
The confidence Steve had felt when he asked Billy to the orchard shifted into nervous energy as they drove out to Merrill’s farm. It was quiet for a while until Billy broke the silence.
“Didn’t give this place enough credit, when I first came here,” he said as he looked out the window, looking up at the trees lining the road. “I called it a shithole. Bitched every time I opened my mouth. But, ya know,” he gestured toward the window, up where the leaves flamed gold and orange and red in the late afternoon sun. “It’s not really made of cowshit and ugly girls after all.”
Steve laughed pulled into the orchard over the dirt road.
They filled their bushel quickly, jamming it full with Gala and Braeburn and Granny Smith. “I’ll make you an apple pie,” Steve claimed.
“No fuckin way you can make an apple pie.”
“Of course I can.”
“Not a chance you’ve made dough in your entire life. I bet Mama Harrington still slices them for you.”
“I’ll make an apple pie that’ll knock your socks off, Hargrove. From scratch.”
Billy stopped in his tracks and looked over at Steve, eyes bright blue and filled with amusement. “You told me you burned mac n cheese, pretty boy. Like, fucking, Kraft mac n cheese. And you expect me to believe that you can make a crust -- from scratch -- and fill it and not burn the kitchen down? You had to throw that pot away. No way you can make a pie.”
Steve took a bite from his apple and handed it to Billy. It was true, Steve thought, as he watched Billy take a few bites of the Granny Smith -- Steve had burnt the mac n cheese so badly that it’d crusted to the bottom of the pan in a hard lump of brown-black rock. But what Billy didn’t know was that Steve had spent weeks at Claudia Henderson’s house, who spent patient hours teaching Steve to cook and bake on Steve’s days off.
Steve nearly had enough money saved to put down the first and last month’s rent on the tiny shoebox apartment above the vet’s office. Claudia was helping him learn to live on his own.
Last week, after five attempts, Steve made a pie that made Claudia stand up and dance.
But Steve didn’t tell Billy any of that. Instead, he plucked the apple from Billy’s fingers and tossed it to the ground with a soft thud. The crisp, cool air kissed his cheeks as he reached out to touch Billy’s jaw -- stubble rough under his fingers. Billy looked up at Steve from under impossibly long eyelashes and licked his lips, his eyes dropping to Steve’s mouth.
A quick glance around -- no families, no kids. It was getting later in the day, so they had practically the entire orchard to themselves.
Steve kissed Billy’s lips.
His mouth tasted sugary sweet from the apples, his tongue eager to meet Steve’s as he bunched up Steve’s sweater in his fist, tugging him closer. Steve went willingly and pulled Billy flush against him.
He committed every memory to detail: how Billy’s curls were just starting to grow down to almost his shoulders again. How Billy clutched Steve like Steve would bolt if Billy let him go. How the dry leaves rustled in the breeze that picked up and cooled his overheated face. The sound of the apple press running in the distance, and the faint aroma of Billy’s cologne. All of this felt significant -- the beginning of the end.
Billy broke the kiss first and pressed his forehead to Steve’s. “I’ve wanted that forever, pretty boy.”
“Sweetheart,” Steve said, and embraced Billy tightly, rocked back and forth. “My lips are yours whenever you want them.”
Billy didn’t wait -- he leaned forward and kissed Steve again deeply, hands moving up into Steve’s hair as the autumn day began to fall into night.
#harringrove#my fic#my writing#soft times at ridgemont high#soft fic for hard times#i love you flippy#<3333
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Riding On
Ch 9- A Labour of Love
Summary: Fliss and Frank receive some news from Boston and Bean’s due date, arrives…and passes, with no sign of him making his bid for freedom just yet. Fliss is frustrated and poor Frank doesn’t know what to do for the best.
Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW, NO UNDER 18s!).
Pairing: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher
A/N: Bean is just not playing ball, is he? As always, I hope you enjoy and I love reading all your thoughts.
Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.
Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist
Chapter 8
Touch me, take me to that other place. Teach me, I know I’m not a hopeless case.
August 2019
The alarm had become a bit of a pointless feature in the Gallagher-Adler household, certainly over the last 2 weeks or so. As Fliss headed into the final throes of her pregnancy, her sleep patterns were all over the place. So it was no surprise to Frank that he felt her climbing out of bed at little past 5 am. Blinking sleepily he made a noise of protest because, after all, it was a Saturday, and she chuckled and leaned over to gently kiss his head.
“Stay here.” she instructed, “I’ll be fine.”
He wasn’t going to listen, he really wasn’t but his eyes dropped shut of their own accord. When they opened again it was almost 10 and he gave a start, because Fliss was due to leave in little over an hour. She was off for a Pre-Baby pamper session with Verity, Roberta and Sian, which included a manicure, pedicure, haircut, facial and fuck knows what else. To be honest, Frank had zoned out when she'd reeled off the list of treatments last night over dinner and just nodded in all the right places because he wasn't interested if all truth be told. As long as she enjoyed herself. With that in mind, he jumped up and after a quick shower he headed downstairs.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” he asked as he wandered into the back of the house. Fliss, who was stood by the bay window seat, her eyes roving over the garden, didn’t answer.
“Lissy?” He spoke again and she jumped slightly and turned to face him as he chuckled and crossed the room to give her a kiss. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Where’s Mary?”
“She went up to the stables for a lesson with Joanne before it gets too hot.” She replied, taking the peck he offered with a tight smile. Her voice was flat, emotionless and her entire demeanour unnerved him a little as he prided himself on normally being able to read her very well but at that moment he really couldn’t get a lock on her at all.
“Baby, what’s wrong?”
“I had a message from Boston Police…about John.”
Frank made an angry noise in his throat “What about him?”
She looked at him and Frank felt his mind whirring about what there was left that the ass hole could possibly put her through. He was inside, for a long time and he wouldn’t be getting parole this time round either but when she answered, he hadn’t been expecting her to drop the news she did.
“He’s dead.” Fliss said flatly as she looked at Frank. His face contorted into a frown as he looked at her.
“Dead?”
She nodded “Apparently got in a fight with another prisoner and it got a bit nasty. He was stabbed and…” she swallowed “Bled out. Nothing they could do.” Frank watched her carefully as she was clearly pondering something. He wasn’t sure how she was going to be feeling here. She had been married to him after all but, well, Frank was struggling to feel anything other than a sickening sense of satisfaction. If anyone deserved to die it was that fucker.
“You ok?” he asked her as he stepped towards her and pulled her into a hug.
“Yeah. I feel nothing.” she said simply, pulling back to look at him. “Absolutely nothing. I’m not happy he’s dead but I don’t care he is, either, and I’m certainly not upset about it.” She paused, biting her lip “Does that make me a bad person?”
“Bad?” Frank spluttered “Fuck, no honey, of course not” She let out a sigh as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head as she snuggled her face into his chest. “If you think feeling nothing makes you bad then me feeling what I do means I’m going straight to hell.” Frank moved and tilted her face to look at him with his finger a thumb gently holding her chin “He was a nasty, vile bastard Lissy, and he put you through so much, not to mention nearly fucking killing you less than a year ago. If anything you have a right to be throwing a damned party now.”
“Not sure you’d find many places with Congratulations Your Piece Of Shit, Wife-Beating Ex-Husband Is Dead banners or balloons.” she quipped.
“The internet is dark and full of terrors.” Frank smiled back and Fliss snorted at the Game of Thrones reference “Never underestimate it.”
She stayed silent for a moment before she pulled back and looked up at him. “You know what else I will never underestimate?” she asked, and Frank was pleased to note that familiar shine had returned to her face and eyes and he arched an eyebrow. “The power of a back massage.”
Frank smiled “Good job you’re heading off for one then isn’t it.”
“Hmmmm…” she teased, her hands tracing his chest through his t-shirt. “Thing is, unlike your back rubs this one won’t have a happy ending.” “It better fucking not do.” He shot back and she grinned.
“I should go get ready.”
“Ok, you want any breakfast before you go?” he asked and she smiled
“We ate, but there’s some pancakes in the oven for you, you just need to warm them up.”
He smiled “You’re too good to me.” “I know” she shrugged, standing on her toes to give him a kiss. With a chuckle he watched her leave, Thor trotting behind her before he let out a deep breath.
“Does that make me bad?”
The fact that she was even asking that, after everything, was enough of an answer in itself. Bad? There was nothing further from the truth and he hated that she had even entertained the idea. But, as Frank realised when he poured himself a coffee, now the bastard was dead, there was nothing else he could do to her. That particular shadow was now well gone.
And Frank didn’t give a shit whether being happy or, dare he say it, amused at the fact the fucker had died in prison, made him a bad person or not.
*****
An hour later Fliss was collected by Bill, the poor bloke was on drop off and pick up duty and Frank didn’t envy him dealing with all 4 of women. Out of courtesy, Frank had offered to run one way but Bill had waved his offer off, pointing out that he had to collect his mother later that afternoon from the aiport.
He walked out to the car with them, taking a side glance at his girl who was dressed in a pale pink and blue maxi dress, which was quite low cut and made her pregnancy boobs look fucking amazing. He smiled as he opened the door for her, Fliss sinking into the front seat- being basically 40 weeks pregnant and ready to pop awarded her certain perks such as her mother surrendering her usual position in the passenger side.
“Have a nice time.” He said, leaning over to give her a peck.
“We will.” She smiled “I left Mary some Mac and Cheese for lunch, she was asking before so I pulled it out of the freezer.”
Frank smiled “I’ll fight her for it.” “No need.” She grinned “I got you some out too.” “You spoil me”
Smiling, she reached up and cupped his cheek before he straightened up and shut the door. Once he was sure it was closed he jerked his head to Bill who was bent giving Thor a pat and signalled for the man to walk with him a little, taking a few steps away.
“Everything ok?” Bill asked.
“Yeah, well, sort of. She’s probably gonna tell you herself but just in case she doesn’t, she had a call this morning. John’s dead.” Bill blinked, before he gave a snort “Good.” “Yeah, that was kind of my reaction too.” Frank scratched at his neck. “Fliss, however, well she says she didn’t feel anything. Not happy, not sad, just complete indifference. Which, to be fair, is probably a good thing for her. I’m just a little worried she’s numb because it hasn’t sunk in yet.” Bill nodded “If she doesn’t mention it herself on the way I’ll tell V on the quiet when we get there.” “Thanks.” Frank smiled as the two of them headed back to the car. Frank grinned at Bill, as he could hear the chatter from the 4 women even through the closed doors and windows of the car.
“Good luck!” he said, nodding towards the vehicle.
Bill snorted before he frowned a little “How come you haven’t gone with Steve and the boys up to the Water Sports centre?” “Mary didn’t want to.” Frank said “I think she’s still a little, self-conscious, I suppose is the term, around the twins but she’ll come round. You know what she’s like” “Well, when they move over in January she’ll have plenty of time to get to know them properly” Bill shrugged “Right, best get this rabble to the hotel. See you later son.” Frank smiled, nodding at him. As the Range Rover pulled off up the drive he tossed a hand at the tailgate before he looked down at Thor.
“Come on boy, let’s go find Mary.” It didn’t take them long to locate her. Having finished her lesson she’d been busy grooming Monty and then helping Joanne with a few chores, or bugging the shit out of her Frank suspected but Joanne was always so patient with her. The young woman was god-send, having really stepped up over the last 2 months especially. Frank knew why Fliss liked her so much.
He practically dragged Mary home, but it really was getting ridiculously warm and he wanted her to have a few hours inside to keep cool a little. In the end, as always, they haggled reaching a compromise that she could have a little while in the pool provided she sat in the shade quietly to eat lunch. As always he was roped into the pool with her, such a hard life he led, and after 30 minutes of teaching her how to dive they both climbed out and ate before changing and heading to the airport to collect Evelyn who was coming to stay for a while.
He greeted her with the usual nod and smile as Mary gave her a hug, before he took her bag from her and they headed back to his truck, Mary gibbering on about anything and everything, his mother listening and replying when needed. The last time Mary had seen Evelyn she had gone to Boston for the weekend the previous month, something that had set Frank on edge after the last time, but as Fliss had reasoned with him, he knew that he couldn’t allow that to stop him from letting her go. This meant that Evelyn hadn’t seen their house since they had moved in back in June. Mary showed her round, Frank following, and when they got to Bean’s room he saw her stop and look round, smiling softly.
“You’ve done a good job, Frank.” She turned to look at him and he smiled back.
“You sound surprised, mother.” “Not at all.” She shook her head. “I expected nothing less.” “Makes a change.” He couldn’t help the sarcastic shot back and she narrowed her eyes.
“Are we not passed the sniping yet?” she said, tiredly.
Frank held his hands up, “Sorry.” After she’d seen the attic and Mary’s room, they headed back downstairs, Frank showing Evelyn to the Guest Apartment over the Garage which he had put the finishing touches to the week before. Fliss had stocked the fridge fully for her, meaning she had everything she could need for snacks and drinks, and whatever else she needed for a comfortable stay. He left her to unpack, telling her to come over to the main house when she was done, which she did a little over an hour later.
Frank poured her a glass of white wine, and they headed outside, taking a seat at the table as Mary was in and out of the pool freely as the sun wasn’t quite as high as it had been given that it was half four in the afternoon. Evelyn took the opportunity to ask Frank if they were ready for Bean to arrive and he smiled, shrugging.
“As ready as we can be.” He said, “We’ve had all the hospital tours and found the place Fliss prefers so…” “Where have you chosen?” Evelyn asked.
“Bayfront in St Pete’s” Frank said, pulling out his phone “They have a suite called the Baby Place.”
He flicked through his phone’s internet browser to the bookmarked page and handed it to Evelyn who put on her glasses to scan the information.
"The separate family lounge offers some of the amenities of home, such as a game table, bla bla bla and room enough to host celebrations and enjoy time with loved ones." Evelyn read from the website. "It looks like a hotel not a hospital" she mused as she handed the phone back to Frank. "Well, that's kinda the idea mother." He said, tossing his phone onto the table. "It’s actually a state-approved level 3 Regional Perinatal Intensive Care Centre." Mary appeared at the side of them, picking up her towel. "The program is one of only 12 in the state of Florida" Evelyn looked at her, cooking her head to one side as Frank gave a chuckle. "There is that too." He said as Evelyn turned to him. Mary, wrapped herself in the towel and hopped up onto his knee. "We originally discussed a birthing centre with the midwife but Fliss was too worried about what could go wrong or if she decided half way through she wanted an epidural..." he rubbed at Mary’s shoulders slightly, drying her off with the towel. “So when the midwife suggested this it seemed like a perfect compromise. She gets a private recovery area and should make her feel more at ease. She doesn't have fond memories of hospitals." He shrugged "Who does?" Evelyn looked at him, taking a sip of her wine. "Well Fliss has some particularly bad ones what with her back injury and operation, not to mention all the times he put her in one." Frank said, pausing for a second. That reminded him.
“Hey Stack, can you go grab me a can of soda?”
“Only if I can have one.” She bargained.
“Fine, but grab the no sugar. You’re already hyper enough as it is.”
Mary jumped down and headed through the door into the kitchen. As soon as she was out of earshot Frank looked at his mother.
“John’s dead.” He said bluntly “Fliss had a call this morning. He was stabbed in prison.” Evelyn looked at him for a second, before she gave a snort “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.” She said sarcastically “How has Fliss taken it?”
“Well she wasn’t leaping for joy but she’s not upset, says she feels nothing.” He shrugged, looking up as Mary came back. She handed him a can as she hopped back on his knee and opened the other one herself.
Evelyn studied Frank for a second as if she was considering something before she smiled "I take it the fact she's due to drop tomorrow is the reason you're on soft drinks and not beer." Frank smiled "Just playing it safe. I mean so are you right? That's why you're here for the next 2 weeks." Evelyn shrugged "is it a problem?" "No." Frank shook his head before he grinned cheekily "Why do you think I finished the apartment above the Garage?" "Bill says in England they would call it a Granny Flat" Mary said as Frank gave a snort. Evelyn chuckled a little. "I’m aware of the terminology, thank you, on account of being from England myself." She looked at Mary "You know, people build them on their property when they want their elderly relatives to move in with them so they can look after them." she turned to Frank, smirking "So I'm honoured, Francis..." "I didn't build it just for you." He rolled his eyes "it was half done when we moved in so it made sense to finish it." He picked up his can "It’s a place for anyone to stay, although I'd be lying if I said you weren't at the forefront of my mind when we did it" Evelyn looked at him, shocked, "me?" "Yeah..." he shrugged, grinning "Fliss told me that I wasn't allowed to let you stay in a hotel or at Bill and V's now we have room so this was the best way of actually keeping you out of the house..." "Oh piss off!" Evelyn looked at him, slapping his arm as he laughed. She shook her head and before she could shoot a sarcastic response back, the sound of an engine coming up the drive hit Frank’s ears and a soft smile crept across his face. His girl was home. Thor gave a loud bark and stood up, running to the gate, Frank following him. He opened it, striding out onto the path through the lawn which led round the side of their house to the front. He smiled as Fliss pushed herself out of her dad's range rover and he instantly spotted that her hair was a lighter colour than it had been that morning and was flowing round her face and shoulders in perfectly styled waves. It was evident she had enjoyed herself, as she looked relaxed for the first time in weeks. "Well I would ask if you had a nice time." He smiled, dropping a kiss to her cheek "but I can tell from the way you're grinning that you did." "Oh it was amazing." She smiled as his hands fell to her hips. “Just what I needed. I feel relaxed and absolutely ready to push a baby out of my vagina.” Frank gave a loud laugh as he shook his head. “Well, your hair looks great." "Aww thanks Frank." Roberta slapped his shoulder as she walked past him into the yard. He rolled his eyes as Fliss laughed, tugging on Frank’s hand as she led him to the trunk of Bill's car. Bill was stood with it open as Verity and Sian were looking in each of the bags before Verity pointed at one and handed it to Fliss, Frank immediately taking it from her. He peered inside.
"Because you don't have enough toiletries" he deadpanned. Fliss shrugged. "The lavender stuff they said would help me sleep, which in case you haven't noticed I've been struggling to do over the last 2 weeks." "Hard not to notice when you wake me up at 3:30 am to tell me" "I did that once because I felt sick. And besides, you did this to me..." she pointed to her now really rather large bump "...you should also be feeling the consequences" Bill snorted as he shut the trunk of his car and looked at Frank as he glanced at the older man, almost pleading for help "Sorry lad." Bill chuckled "You got her pregnant and wanna marry her, she's your problem now." "She is here..." Fliss glared at her father. "Oh, trust me Titch, we are all well aware you are." "Rude" Fliss looked at her parents as they headed into the garden. "Steve and the boys will be here in about 5." Sian looked at Fliss having just got off the phone to him. "Said to tell you he is picking up some real meat on the way over...whatever that means Frank?" Frank laughed "he means fillet steak. I got Sirloin. A man's cut. He's being a pussy" Sian looked at Fliss who simply shook her head. "Meat is a big issue for Francis." She said sombrely, patting his chest.
“I just know what I like.” He shrugged. They made their way through to the back in time to see Verity giving Evelyn a warm hug in greeting. It made Fliss smile softly, noticing how different it all was to the stiff handshakes shared when they met for the first time little over a year ago.
Frank dropped a kiss to her cheek and headed inside to put her bag away before he came back down just as Steve and the boys turned up. Then the usual thing that happened at BBQs went ahead, the men crowding round the grill, the women bustling in and out of the kitchen setting out the sides and accompaniments, the 3 kids bombing in and out of the pool.
“You should have come with us today Mary.” Steve said to the girl as she sauntered past in her bathing suit. She paused to look at him.
“What did you do?”
“We did Kayaking, skiing, the boys went bodyboarding but I sat that one out.” Steve said.
“I didn’t know if I would like it.” She shrugged, dropping her eyes slightly. Frank watched carefully as Steve crouched down.
“Me neither, but you know what? It was fun, and the best thing is, if there’s something you don’t wanna do, you can sit it out and watch.” Frank could see from her face she was mulling this over. She looked at Steve “Are you going again Uncle Steeby?”
“Next Friday.” He nodded.
“Ok, I wanna go next time.” She announced. “Mind your manners.” Frank instructed, gently, pointing the tongues he was holding at her.
“Please.” She added. Charlie and Joel both erupted into noise, demanding that their father allow it and Steve gave a chuckle.
“You’re welcome any time Stack, as long as Frank and Fliss say its ok.” He said, standing up. “Fine by me. In fact you can keep her if you want.” Frank shrugged and Mary rolled her eyes.
“You always say stuff like that, pretend you don’t want me here but we all know the truth. You do, that’s why you’re adopting me.”
“Smart ass.” Frank narrowed his eyes at her as she stuck her tongue out and ran off. Bill and Steve chuckled as Frank shook his head, snorting.
“Thanks Steve.” He looked at the man who waved his thanks away.
“You know, she’s getting more like Fliss was every day.” Bill said “you want to watch that, Frank. She was a sassy little swine as a kid.” “Mary was already a sass bag before she met Fliss.” Frank shrugged, turning over the steaks on the grill. “Lissy just encourages it.” “Have you had any luck with her biological father?” Steve asked and Frank shook his head.
“We’re not expecting to yet. We’ve only given him notification of our intent. I suspect when Greg actually starts the process officially we’ll hear something.”
“But you don’t expect him to object?”
Frank hesitated before he shrugged “I can’t see why he would. He’s never been interested in her, at all. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a slight worry but like Fliss keeps telling me, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” “No point worrying about something you can’t control.” Bill said wisely, before he drained his beer “Right, I need another drink. Anyone else want one?”
“Yeah, I’ll come with you” Steve said “Frank?”
“I’m good, thanks.” “You can have one or two, surely?” Steve looked at him.
“Leave him alone.” Bill said, shoving his son on the shoulder, “That’s your sister and my little girl he’s looking out for…” “Fuckin’ pussy…” Steve snorted playfully and Frank threw the burger flipper at him.
Bill and Steve walked away, playfully squabbling and a few seconds later Frank felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around him from behind, Fliss pressing her lips to the space between his shoulder blades.
“Hey gorgeous.” He said, moving so she could slide under his arm. He pressed a kiss to her head “You ok?”
“Yeah, fine.” She smiled, looking up at him. “You know I really do I love your hair." He said, taking in the lighter colour even more in the now closing light of day. Over the past two years, her vivid auburn had gradually tone down and was now a light brown, laced with copper and blonde.
“Thanks.” She said, a little shyly and Frank frowned.
“Don’t you like it?”
“No, I love it…it’s just, well, actually it doesn’t matter.” “Lissy.” He looked at her sternly, and she sighed, her hands worrying one another so Frank put the cooking utensils down and took them in his. “Tell me what’s going on.” “John hated me changing it.” She shrugged “Which is why I went so bright red in the first place. Once I left him I just fancied doing something wild. I’ve always liked it a bit lighter. He insisted I kept it dark…”
“Well you can do what the fuck you want with it.” He assured her, “Unless you want to shave it all off. Then I might raise some objections.” “Sorry. She said gently and he frowned.
“What for?” “Raising him again” she shrugged “We’ve been together almost 2 years now and…” “Hey.” He said, “Don’t ever apologise. I’d rather you tell me when you’re feeling like this. You know that.”
“Of course I do, I just wonder sometimes if it’s ever gonna stop.”
“So what if it doesn’t?” Frank looked at her. She blinked and he shrugged “I’ve told you, you can always talk to me. Nothing you say is gonna make me mad.”
She smiled at him as he dropped his head, gently giving her a peck. “I know, I just get fed up sometimes. Stupid little memories and flashbacks.” “I know.” He smiled at her, kissing her head softly “But they don’t rule your life anymore, not like they used to. They’re just…”he hesitated “A minor annoyance, a bit like him really, insignificant.”
“He’s even more insignificant now.” She grinned “He’s fucking dead.”
At that Frank let out a snort “I take it you’re not longer feeling numb then.”
She shrugged “Mum said exactly the same as you before, that we should be throwing a party so…”
Frank chuckled again, pulling her into him even further as he turned back to the grill.
******
Despite it being her due date the following day there was no sign of Bean. And he didn’t make an appearance on the Monday either. On Tuesday they headed in for an assessment at the hospital, and after an examination the Midwife smiled at Fliss as she lay on the bed.
"Well, Miss Gallagher... he is in the right position." The midwife smiled. “Dropped and ready.” "He needs to hurry up." Fliss grumbled "He was due two days ago.” "Your due date is never exact. I wouldn't worry. His heartbeat is strong, he'll arrive when he is ready." "Already taking after his father." Fliss shot a side glance at Frank who raised an eyebrow. "Ok so if there's no sign of him by the morning of the 28th then just call" the woman said and Frank bit back a smirk at the look of utter disgust on Fliss' face "We'll check everything and do a sweep to get things moving." "Is there anything we can do?" Fliss practically whined "Spicy food? Pineapple? Speed bumps?" The Midwife laughed "I'm afraid they're only old wives tales. The only one with a shred of credibility is sex." Frank grinned and Fliss shot him a glare. "Semen contains prostaglandins" the midwife shot Fliss a wink "It can trigger the release of oxytocin which is a hormone that can help contractions." At that it was Fliss' turn to grin. "So all I need is your sperm and a turkey baster Sailor. Unlucky." Frank rolled his eyes and mentally cursed the midwife for her damned scientific explanation. "But in essence if your body isn’t ready to labour, nothing you do will necessarily get you going." She smiled "Sorry, you're just gonna have to ride it out." Despite the joking there was no activity in the bedroom that night other than a lot of tossing and turning as Fliss was really struggling to get comfortable enough to sleep. Frank hated seeing her so tired and fed up but when at 3:30 am he sleepily asked her if she needed anything she simply asked for a cuddle which he was more than happy to provide.
“I’m sorry.” She mumbled.
“What for?”
“I know I've been a pain these last 2 weeks.”
“You’re heavily pregnant and fed up.” He said, kissing her head
“I wouldn't be able to do this alone. I don't know how my mum did.” She said softly. Frank sighed and pulled her closer, remembering how upset she had been a week or so back when their conversation one evening with Mary had turned to Frank telling her how he had been with Diane when she was born. Hormones be damned, it had set Fliss off about how nice it was that Frank had been there and stood by Diane and how she wished her own mom had that, but instead Verity’s parents had kicked her out and left her alone and pregnant at the age of 19.
Frank knew Verity had been young when she had Fliss, although he had never expressly asked he had worked it out from the fact she was 9 years Bill's junior. He also knew there was a lot of bad blood on that side of the family and that Fliss had never met her maternal grandparents, even when they reached out to her later down the line. She had rather impolitely told them to fuck off, Verity doing the same. When asked by Mary why she hadn’t forgiven them as they were family, Fliss had shrugged and simply replied that family isn't and never would be about blood, but instead it was about those people who saw you at your absolute worst and wanted you just the same. "You've nothing to be sorry for.” Frank gently soothed her, “And you're not on your own. You never will be." "I know." She looked up at him, smiling as he gave her a soft kiss.
Things continued much the same for the rest of the week. Every so often Fliss would get a twinge, and the pair of them would get excited, thinking this was it, only for nothing to happen. On the Friday, almost a week post her due date, Frank called the midwife who arranged for them to come in the next morning. Evelyn, who was being particularly helpful, even if Frank was loath to admit it cooked for them all that night, but Fliss had struggled to eat her meal, declaring she felt a bit sick. After a profound apology to Evelyn she announced she was heading for a bath and then going to bed.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Frank asked and Fliss shook her head.
“It’s not even 7. I might be back down in an hour or so if I feel better.” “Ok, can you manage-“
“Frank!” she said, exasperatedly. “I’m fine.” “Well, you’re-“ he began and Evelyn laid her hand on his arm and shook her head gently. For the first time in, well, as long as he could remember, he obeyed an order from his mother and stopped. “Alright. Just shout me then if you need anything.”
She gave him a kiss on his cheek, her way of apology for snapping and headed off.
“You won’t need that appointment tomorrow.” Evelyn said after a pause and Frank turned to her.
“What makes you say that?” “Because I felt the same the day before I went into labour with you.” Evelyn said “Queasy, tired, just generally off.” “Well, I hope you’re right because she’s fed up.” Frank sighed “He’s fully cooked now, just being a stubborn little bastard.”
“What was it you once said to me about an apple and a tree analogy?” she looked at him, arching an eyebrow and Frank snorted.
“Yeah ok, you got me there” he conceded.
Fliss didn’t come back down after her bath. Frank popped in on her a few times and she was simply led in bed, trying to get comfortable, tearfully complaining that her back ache was particularly bad. Frank led besides her for half an hour or so, gently working at the lower part of her spine that was giving her the trouble before he realised she’d fallen asleep. He left her to it, heading back down to his mother and Mary, before a few hours later, just before 10, they all decided to go to bed as it had been a long day. Fliss didn’t wake up when he slid in besides her, nor when he dropped a kiss to her cheek. He watched her for a moment as she lay, facing him, before he too closed his eyes.
***** His baby was sat on his knee, grinning up at him. He smiled down at the boy, whose hands were wrapped tight around his index fingers. He glanced up, looking around for Fliss but there was no sign of her. Nor Mary for that matter. Hoisting Alex up onto his hip he headed out to the garden and gave a start as he saw both Fliss and Mary floating face down in the pool.
“No, no…” he began to mutter, before his muttering became frantic yells “No, this…not my girls…not…”
With a start, Frank sat bold upright in bed, breathing deeply. He glanced at the clock on the side which read 23:30, damned he hadn’t even been asleep an hour! What the fuck…
He wiped his clammy brow and lay back, feeling Fliss stir besides him.
“Frank?” she asked softly, “Are you ok?” “Bad dream.” He mumbled, turning onto his side and sliding his arm under her neck, pulling her back into his chest.
“You wanna talk about it?” she asked.
He shook his head with the air of a small child, pressing his nose into her neck, breathing in her smell and comfort. As he nuzzled at her, he felt her sigh a little and push back further into him.
“Stop it.” She muttered.
“Stop what?” he asked.
“That, on my neck…”
“Why?” He teased, his nose being replaced by his lips as he gently trailed open mouthed kisses up to her ear.
“You know why…”
“You ready to try what the midwife suggested?” he grinned, his mouth nipping at her ear and she gave a laugh.
“I'm willing to try anything. Just make it quick, I’m not bothered about coming. I only need your sperm.” “Charming…” he snorted as she gave a soft chuckle. His hand that had been resting on her bump softly moved down a little as he shifted, snaking his leg in between hers, opening her up slightly. He hooked her leg up over his hip, his fingers softly trailing up her bare thigh, shifting her sleep shorts to one side as he slipped his hand gently into her folds. She bucked harshly.
“Easy baby.” he muttered.
“Can’t help it.” she let out a soft sigh “Sensitive…” With a smile, he used his other hand to tip her head round so he could catch her mouth with his own, kissing her gently, his tongue softly sliding against hers, swallowing the moans and groans she was eliciting as he worked her with his hand. Had she been a little more with it, she might have been slightly embarrassed at how pathetically short a period of time it was before he had her clamping down around his fingers, shuddering as her release washed over her, but she was too gone to care. She’d hardly even come down from her orgasm when Frank eased her shorts down, then his boxers and with a gently push forward slid into her, the pair of them letting out hushed sighs as he began to slowly slide in and out of her. There was no haste to his movements, no rush, nothing, it was gentle, sweet, loving as he kept her held close to him, his lips lavishing affection on her shoulders and neck. Before long he heard and felt he breathing falling into that tell-tale staccato panting and she let out a low, quiet but downright filthy noise from her throat and Frank’s lips curved into a grin against her neck.
“Come on beautiful…” he mumbled, the heat in his own belly was sending spikes of fire up and down his body as he fought to keep control for a little longer “Come on.” And she did, her head tipped back and with a stuttering whisper of his name he felt her tighten around him, her legs quivering as he himself came, his hips slowing to a stop as he gently bit down on her shoulder. The pair of them lay still for a while, his hand softly curving up and around her bump, over her hip, down her thigh and back again, gently repeating the motion.
“You ok?” he asked and she nodded, humming in contentment. He pulled out of her, righted their items of clothing as Fliss hardly moved. He kept her pressed close to him as he closed his eyes, drifting off again.
He was woken 3 hours later, just before 4 am by Fliss shaking his arm.
“Frank…”
He groaned but didn’t open his eyes.
“Frank…Bean…I think he’s on his way…”
He let out a grin and turned over “My sperms worked then…” he mumbled into the pillow.
Fliss looked at him, waiting for the moment her words registered in his sleep-addled brain, which happened roughly 10 or so seconds later when he suddenly sat straight up, turning to face her.
“Penny dropped?” she asked arching an eyebrow.
He blinked “He’s…” She nodded, “Yeah…” He blinked again before he swallowed, and with a grin stuttered out a single word.
“Shit!”
**** Chapter 10
#riding on#frank adler#frank adler x ofc#frank adler x original female character#gifted#gifted fan fic#chris evans#chris evans characters
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A Cure for Insomnia CH.6
You wake up sometime around one. Not too late in the day given your morning. With a decent amount of sleep under your belt you roll over and start striping your bed of its sheets. Then you make your way across your room, picking up stray clothes as you go to your hamper and dump your collection of dirty linens and clothes into it. You carry the hamper to the bathroom where you load half into the washer. There's no real point in separating the clothes from colored items and pastels or whites. You're only twenty-four and don't have your life totally figured out yet. You can be a little lazy with laundry.
Once your first load of laundry is being washed you go to do your weekly tidy of your home. The one good thing that came from the paranoia of your car's break in was you rearranged all the furniture of the home, thus cleaning as you went. So that means it's more of a quick wipe down of counters and sweeping today. Maybe you'd organize your art supplies while doing your laundry. It's an activity that wouldn't distract you too much and make you forget you had laundry in the wash.
You finish washing the dishes from this morning you begin wiping the counters and tabletop when you notice your fidget cube is still on the table where Toby left it earlier.
'Don't want to lose this. Back to the bookshelf where you belong.' When you get to the living room's bookshelf you notice one of your book's is missing. Ironically it's The Book Thief.
'Tobias probably picked it up and put it down somewhere.' you'd keep your eyes peeled for the book while you cleaned.
After wiping down bookshelves, tables, counters, even the mantel over the fire place you still hadn't found your missing book. You probably picked it right up and placed it right back down without even realizing. You'll just keep an eye out until you find it. You don't even reread books, you really just kept a copy to lend out to people when they ask what your favorite books are. It isn't a real big deal if you can't find it, plus there's bound to be a copy floating somewhere in a thrift shop or yard sale.
The washer chimes right as you grab the broom to sweep. Pausing this task to go retrieve your laundry and do the rest. You empty the dirty clothes left in the basket onto the floor and place the clean wet ones inside the basket. After starting the final load you carry the basket out back. As nice as this home is its still small and doesn't have a dryer, which early summer is fine but come fall and winter might be more cumbersome. Seeing as you have to hang the laundry out to dry outside. Maybe when it gets cold you'll just do smaller loads and hang them up in the bathroom or over the fire place. But that's a thought for future you. Right now current you is struggling yet again to get a fitted sheet to sit on the line. Fitted sheets are probably Satan himself in disguise.
When you finish stringing all the laundry up you take a moment to just enjoy the quiet and the peace that comes with the outside. It's nice out here, maybe after you finish the last few chores today you can come out and just draw, it'd be a good way to also keep an eye on this weather in case it turns. While it hasn't happened yet you're very aware of the risks you take by ignoring the existence of meteorologists. And by that you mean just not bothering to look up the weather for the day.
Heading back inside you restart your task of sweeping. Like you thought you've finished before the washer has even completed it's first cycle. The house isn't too big so it's easy to clean it from top to bottom within a day normally, but today you had even less to do thanks to this week's rearranging. So you move on to organizing your art supplies and separating all materials by medium.
Of course arranging materials is never easy, after all you end up staring at all your horded empty sketch books and note how your thumbnail notebooks are just covered in doodles and random scribbles but no real art or ideas. Maybe it's time to start kicking yourself into gear. You ran into a major period of burnout before moving and now with this fresh start you might be able to focus on progressing with art, even if you don't pursue it as a career. You've always loved the ability to draw and create images that make others happy. But right in this moment you just want to make yourself happy. Maybe you could start small just a few still lifes and see how you feel after that.
Hearing the chime of the washer you hurry to finish putting away the supplies in their newly assigned places. Just as before you transfer the wet and clean clothes into the awaiting basket and take them out to be hung to dry. You don't have another fitted sheet this go round so it goes by much faster than it previously had. Now with all of your washing for today hung you head back inside to grab a fresh sketchbook.
Having never been one for scenery, more of a portrait artist, you start off with small things. A few stills of a flower under the window, the old tire swing on the tree, and even the blue jay that dove for dinner right in front of you. Of course all of these were warm ups done in a few minutes, though you really wish you had more time on the blue jay one. You really need practice with things that aren't people.
The warm ups of course don't look very good, but you can still see what you'd been going for. The hatching and smudging you'd done, to increase depth and give the quick drawing more life, did help a little but it was clear this was an area where you weren't skilled. But that didn't deter you, after all you needed more practice and wouldn't be getting better without it.
Deciding to draw the scene before you, a small open meadow surrounded by trees, in other words your backyard with your drying laundry. You start off slow and make sure to actually look and take in the yard in front of you, doing your best to not just make up the trees and their shapes as you go. Soon you are lost in the meditative muscle memory of drawing. The scratching of pencil scrapping across paper further lulling you into a trance like state as you etch out the scenery.
A harsh breeze blows through and the loud flapping of sheet hitting sheet knocks you loose from your trance. Checking to make sure none of your laundry was flying off, it hadn't the laundry was still secured to the line. Smiling you glance down to actually see what you've sketched out so far. It isn't too bad, though you aren't sure how long you've been working on it, the trees all have a distinct shape rather than your typical cartoon one size fits all attempts. Scanning the page your eyes catch onto something off, out in the tree line it looks like you'd drawn a figure hiding behind a tree.
Hearing the beating of your heart that's currently hammering against your chest you look around. Did your mind do that as a joke or had someone genuinely been watching you draw? Your mouth is dry as your eyes scan the tree line for any sign of what could've been mistaken for a person, but you saw nothing. No one was there. Had anyone ever really been there? Why would you draw that? Why wouldn't you remember doing it? You don't feel safe out here anymore. There are eyes watching you you can feel it. They may not physically be there but the phantom eyes that surround you and cause your skin to crawl make sure you know of their presence. You take that as a sign to head inside for the evening, one that doesn't need to be repeated.
You lock the door immediately behind you and check your phone. It's seven, and you have an email notification. Thanking whatever power for the distraction you slide down your back door and open the notification. It's from Hollis!
YN r u coming to SND? It's that teen beach zombie movie u love. Y;know the awful D list one Blk and wht with the 50yos playing teenagers
Lemme know I'll save your seat.
Sent 6:47 P.M.
They're so sweet to remember you loved this awful D list zombie movie. Horrible subplots and main plot and all. But you're a little spooked right now and watching even that joke of a horror movie is probably too much for you. You doubt you'd feel better by the time ten rolls around to watch it. Not to mention your battery's still drained from Toby this morning. And knowing for a fact you'd probably stay late to talk till morning with Hollis, Jake, and Kirby you decide it's best to skip this week. Just not having the energy to handle Saturday Night Dead.
Nah, sorry man. Battery's dead from being social earlier. Thanks tho, I do appreciate you! ….....,.... lemme know what next week's movie is!
Sent 7:10 P.M.
It'd probably be a good time to make something for dinner, there's a box of mac n cheese in the pantry. Simple but always beloved. As you wait for Hollis to respond you start on boiling water. But you didn't have to wait too long since they'd answered near instantly.
Chill, don worry we'll catch ya next week
…..oooop
ot not...Kirb's said it's the start of watching the entire warren file collection
starting from the beginning
...well the first movie released, Insidious. LOL we probs won't ever see you again.
Sent 7:12 P.M.
How dare Kirby betray you like this. First off those movies are awful, and like not cheesy awful just awful awful. Not to mention he knows how you feel about the Warrens and their cases. You have a power point presentation ready for that dick the next time you see him. ...well not literally but you'd make one to prove a point!
Where's Kirby now? I just wanna talk, I just wanna talk is all.
Sent 7:18 P.M.
Already ran off toy vermont probably
will we get blessed with a ted talk nxt week?
Sent 7:20 P.M.
I can't tell if you're joking or not. If you aren't then yea I can make a power point and we'll play that instead of the movies. Every week until this town understands the severity of this.
Sent 7:21 P.M.
Ya just jkin.
Your passionate hate is funny tho, so could be good to do something mid warren marathon.
Sent 7:23 P.M.
Guess the dissertation on how horrendous the “exorcisms” were will have to wait. They'd just been joking. This is probably a good ending of the conversation anyway, it's hard to tell sometimes but you feel you'll just run in circles with the current topic or worse fall into a rant that they won't read all the way through because they'll have left with the rest of the stunt gang to get dinner before heading over to the Cryptonomica for Saturday Night Dead. Hollis is typically a real good sport about this kinda thing but you'd rather not bog down their night with your hate boner for the Warrens.
'I'll let them know later that I'll still come to Saturday Night Dead next week.' you think as you dump the pasta into the water that finally came to a boil. It's quiet as you cook your macaroni dinner. You'd normally not notice the lack of sound or life in your home before, but maybe having Connor and Toby over put things into perspective. Guests aren't really a thing you've ever had, you always feel rude if your social battery runs out before someone's stay is over. But maybe you're lonely, and it's put you on edge.
Though this week would've put anyone on edge, you have still been alone in this house for two months. That can't be healthy for your mental well being, humans are social creatures by nature after all. Maybe you could get a pet, something that'd make it's fair share of noise and give the home a bit more life than your normally hollow shell wondering the halls. Are you even sure you want a pet? Do you have time for one? You have the standard nine to five, but what about when you're off on a nightly trip because of your sleeplessness? What if you forgot about them? Hell your brain's been so foggy these last few months, it wouldn't be surprising.
Like a sign from the divine themselves, the pot of water boils over. Steam is rising as the sizzling is heard. Your head snaps twice to the right as you scramble to lower the heat and raise the pot off the eye. Putting it down on an unused eye you give it a quick stir and thankfully no pasta got burned to the bottom of the pan....this time. The pasta seems a little crunchy but a texture you'll eat so you kill the hot eye and start on the cheese portion of your mac n cheese.
As you eat you continue your original debate about getting a pet. Ultimately deciding that you just aren't ready for that kind of responsibility right now. Sure you'd had tons of pets in your parents' home but that was with a financial safety net and back when your mental health wasn't all over the place. Not to mention the pets were family pets and responsibility was split three ways.
There isn't much room in your home for you to have a roommate, and that presents a whole nother set of challenges. You could try to make friends through online forums again! It's hard to talk to people in general but you always get scared off before replying to a comment or post. Or overshare to the point people infantize you. Even better trying therapy out could help with your loneliness. Hah ok good one, even if you had money for it consistently you don't think you could trust someone knowing all your secrets but not knowing any of theirs. And while that in and of it self is an example of why you need it, you're rational enough to realize you aren't ready for that either.
After finishing your meal you put away the left overs and clean the dishes. You'll be happier tomorrow knowing they aren't your problem to deal with. You start to make your way to your bedroom but freeze just before the hall.
'You shouldn't stay here...you need to leave.'
A glance at the time tells you it's eight thirty-nine, if you left right now you could make it to Saturday Night Dead with time to spare. You don't need to fill the loneliness with new friends, just spend time with the ones you already have. Duh. Turning you grab your keys off the bookshelf and take one of the masks hanging from a hook by the door.
Checking your door was locked and locking your car once you were in, you're ready to drive. Knowing you're still overstimulated you forgo the music on this drive, hoping it will calm you down enough to enjoy the movie and some down time with friends. And that would help put a pin in your self isolating habits. It'd really be nice if you brought movie snacks over to surprise the gang. You're pretty sure the mini mart carries everything you need. Jake likes swedish fish, Hollis is addicted to those extreme sour airhead ropes, and Kirby's a weirdo with his love of red vines and surge. Hahaha that man will die before he's thirty-eight.
Still having the extra time you deiced to stop by the mini mart and grab the candy. What's the worse that can happen you have another panic attack in front of strangers. Plus you hadn't seen Magnolia the last few times and you'd hate for her to think you'd been ignoring her. Pulling into the empty mini mart parking lot you take a breath to steel your resolve before leaving your car.
Tim looks at the door when he hears the chime and stiffens when he sees you. Fuck you did have a panic attack in front of this guy last night, plus you really haven't formally met. But didn't Toby say his roommate was named Tim? And he and Brian were both here talking with Tim last night before you came in. That can't be coincidence.
“uh...hi?” you say awkwardly standing in the doorway, door closed behind you.
“um, hi?” perfect he's just as awkward in this situation as you are. You can work with this.
Moving through the first two isles you keep your eyes peeled for Magnolia, even though you can make this an in and out trip for candy, you do miss the little bodega cat.
“Wh- hey are you, are you even ok to be here?” Tim calls as he rounds the counter and makes his way to you.
“Huh? Oh...oh yea. I'm chill now.” you hear the bell before you see her. The little ting tin ting of her bell that comes with the grace only fluffy cats have.
“You literally collapsed on the floor last night after blacking out while driving.” his tone is very stern. He and Nate would probably get on like a house on fire. The grumpy old men who secretly care a lot duo.
“I don't remember collapsing...but I know I didn't drive.” well you don't know that but you do firmly believe that.
The man is just turning into the isle when you spot the floof sauntering just behind him. Magnolia didn't spare either of you a glance as she made her way to the counter. Probably going to her bed, an old shipping box for apples, you'd just meet her over there then. With no warning to the man you squeeze past him and and follow the cat. Agitated footsteps following after you in your quest to pet the cat.
Magnolia perks up upon seeing you, the flicking of her tail letting you know she's anticipating her pets. The huffing Tim hovering behind you isn't as pleased with your actions as the cat is. The man is radiating negativity, annoyance maybe or is it concern that breeds frustrated anger? The second he starts to clear his throat, as if to remind you of his hovering, you roll your eyes.
Looking back at him over your shoulder you see him in all his grumpy man glory. His brow was furrowed so hard his thick eyebrows nearly covered his eyes. But with the way his lips emoted the man before you looked more like a pouting muppet. It would be funny if it weren't for the foreboding feeling of the moments before being reprimanded by a teacher.
When you straighten up you take note that your eyes meet perfectly. He's the same height as you that's surprising, you thought he'd be taller than 5'7. His eyes widen slightly at seeing your full height, it must've thrown him off since the first time he saw you, you'd actively been trying, and had succeeded at looking smaller.
“What are you doing here?” well he doesn't get thrown off for long.
Running a hand through Magnolia's fur a few more times as you respond, “Petting Magnolia.” you really are a little shit sometimes.
“No...no, why are you out? Toby had to take you home last night, you shouldn't just be waltzing around town after that.” maybe it was frustrated concern.
“Oh I'm fine now.”
Magnolia at this point has jumped up on the counter and is headbutting you for more attention. Chuckling you turn your attention back to her. Meanwhile Tim behind you is at a loss for words.
“Fine?? You don't just...bounce back from a panic attack.”there's personal experience behind those words.
“I just rationalize things fast.” Hearing the trill of the clock on the wall reminds you that you need to grab those snacks and head over to the Cryptonomica for movie night.
Going to the candy isle you grab one of each of the gang's favorites, you snag a bag of white cheddar popcorn on the way to the counter and place your items there. Tim doesn't get a word out before you rush off to the cooler near the back that is in all honesty pretty sketch. Like who even makes Fruitopia anymore? That stuff got discontinued in the early 2000s. The cooler even has Hi-C Ecto Coolers...you might actually check if they're in date and grab a few.
Rummaging around the cooler you finally spot the weird tech green and black splattered can proudly stating SURGE. It has no date...questionable at best. But hey it's only Kirby drinking it, and it's been well established that man will die well before middle age. Grabbing a can to check the Ecto Coolers, luck is on your side! These cans are from the re-release that happened as a promotion for the Ghostbusters revival a few years back, they'll be good for another two years! For now you'll just take one so you won't have to worry about lugging cans around for the movie.
Once your new items are placed on the counter the expression on Tim's face cannot even be described. The questions of the surge are probably the ones easiest to read...or they're just the most predictable.
“Kirby likes red vines and surge, sickening right?” Maybe a little joke will break the ice.
“...Like that little round pink...thing?” What?
The laughter is coming out before you can stop it, the image of said pink Kirby consuming red vines and surge only to accessorize as your friend comes to mind. It's adorable and cursed at the same time. Adorably cursed. You'll have to draw that and print a few copies to hang around the Cryptonomica.
“No,” you're choking on giggles at this point, “Kirby, the owner of the Cryptonomica.” catching your breath and regaining your composure, “It's that tourist trap just across from the RV park.”
“Oh.” normally such a short cold reply would make you shut down the conversation. But This is Toby's roommate, and if you want to be friends with Toby, you'll probably run into him a lot more. Plus if he's a new night shift cashier it wouldn't hurt to be on good terms with him for when you're out on adventures.
“Yea, hey Toby mentioned you three just came to town, so you might not have known but the Cryptonomica does a weekly movie night on Saturdays. Saturday Night Dead. Normally it's awful old horror movies but next week they're starting a Warren Case files “arch”.” Tim doesn't take the conversation bait at the pause.
“It's a great way to meet other locals, you guys should check it out if you get the chance. It starts at ten and runs till one or so on most weeks.” Olive branch has been extended.
Tim relaxes for the first time since you got here tonight. The sheepish look on his face and twitchy pupils give the impression he's thinking it over. He sighs and nods before saying, “Yea, that sounds...nice.”
Olive branch skeptically taken! You'll count this one as a win in your book. With the mood lightened Tim breaks the ice a bit further.
“Surge and red vines can not be good for you.”
“Right! If living off mountain dew and pizza rolls doesn't kill him, this for sure will.” you both have a small laugh at that. It's nice to finally have cleared up the mix up from the beginning of the week. Which reminds you.
“Oh...um...I'm YN by the way. It's nice to meet you...sorry for the two,” your neck tics to the side, “previous nights.” you finish.
“Tim...and it,uh happens sometimes...'s fine.” Score awkward acknowledgment of previous meetings and you can now erase those from your nightly anxieties.
Tim finishes ringing and bagging your items and you pay. Giving another pet to the curled up kitty on the counter you nod farewell to Tim.
A trill rings out from the clock on the wall. It's ten.
Two heads snap to look at the wall. You take a second glance at your phone while Tim checks his watch. Both say the clock on the wall is correct. But it just turned nine not even ten minutes ago. Right? You can brush off yourself loosing track of time but when you involve another person that just doesn't make sense. Tim looks just as concerned as you. Only Magnolia lays unaffected by the lost fifty minutes.
“I should go.” Tim nods numbly to you as you exit the store.
You won't be able to make it to the movie, well you could but you'd disturb someone if you walked in mid movie. Choosing to go home instead you drive, once again without music. Entering your home you hang your mask back on the hook. Putting away the drinks and snacks for next weekend, you make your way to your bedroom. Once again freezing just before the hallway. Turning to your living room you can see a book in the middle of your coffee table. You definitely don't remember the book being there, and doubt you'd miss it out in the open. But as you got closer you could confirm, even in the dark, that it was The Book Thief.
#ticci tobyx reader#ticci toby#ticcitoby#reader insert#timothy wright x reader#timothy wright#timothy wright x brian thomas#brian thomas x reader#brian thomas#masky x reader#masky x hoodie#creepypasta fanfic#A cure for insomnia
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Peter’s Bad Day
It was a very bad day.
It started bad and got worse from there. He accidentally slept in, and woke to find Bucky had already gone to work, and Peter had missed kissing him goodbye and sneaking one of his signature Post-It notes into the man’s lunch. Just a few words he’d scribble down as Bucky would get ready to leave, something sappy but straight from the heart, usually accompanied by a corny drawing of a heart (or more often, several). He liked to tuck them into Bucky’s lunchbox between his sandwich and plum pudding for the man to find halfway through his break.
Having slept in, Peter was dangerously close to running late for his first class of the day. He didn’t have time to shower and could tell right away that he accidentally used way too much deodorant to compensate. The chemical smell made his eyes burn and left him coughing as he ran from the only bathroom in their shoebox apartment. He didn’t have time to run all the way to the subway, so he was forced to call for a cab to get to campus, which was always painfully expensive. Bucky made good money working for Mr. Stark, but still. Peter was frugal, it was one of the reasons their 1-bedroom place was so small.
The cab driver was unnerving and intense, an old, balding white man who made derogatory comments about the women they passed on the street and left Peter feeling uneasy and argumentative. He didn’t feel safe not tipping the man though, so he begrudgingly handed over all the cash in his wallet and got out. As thanks, the cab sped off, its back tires spinning in place in the muddy puddle beside the curb, drenching Peter in filthy water and street debris. He could swore he saw the man laughing in the rear-view mirror as he drove away.
School didn’t give him any breaks. He had somehow managed to leave his laptop (and all his homework) on the night table beside their bed, earning himself late marks on two huge assignments for two separate classes (his puppy dog eyes weren’t enough to save him, not today). He forgot to grab his lunch from the fridge, and after handing all his cash to the crabby cab driver, didn’t have any left to buy a new one at the cafeteria or campus Starbucks, leaving him hungry and irate. He could use the emergency credit card Bucky gave him, but he didn’t want to spend anymore unnecessary money on today.
He had trouble concentrating all day, and walked out of his last class feeling like the whole day had been a complete waste of time, mental energy and money. He was tired, dirty, hungry, frustrated and sad by the time he got home, and all he wanted to do was run himself a hot bath and have a good old fashioned cry, preferably while stuffing his face with a hot, heaping plate of mac and cheese.
But Bucky, his wonderful, incredible, sometimes overbearing other half, took one look at Peter as he came through the door and somehow just knew.
“Aww, sweetheart. Bad day?”
Peter was ashamed that that was all it took to make him burst into tears. Bucky was off the couch and there in an instant, hugging him tightly even though Peter could practically feel how bad he smelled. “Everything went wrong today,” he hiccupped out, like a baby. “N-nothing went good, not a single thing. It just kept piling up. I’m—I’m so tired, Bucky.”
“Oh baby,” Bucky soothed, rubbing his back and kissing the top of his hair. “Let’s fix that, yeah? The day’s not over. It’s not too late.”
Peter sank into his boyfriend’s chest, nodding gratefully, then yelped in surprise when Bucky stooped down and lifted him bridal-style into his arms. “B-Bucky, don’t,” he weakly protested, his face flushing. “I smell like a back alley dumpster, you shouldn’t-”
Bucky bent forward and kissed his hair, as if to shut him up. “That’s why we’re getting you into the bath, doll.”
“But-”
His objections went unheard as he was lowered down onto the cold tile floor of their bathroom then gently stripped of his filthy clothes. Bucky ran the bath, cradling Peter in his arms again as the tub filled, peppering his face in gentle kisses (as gentle as they could be, with that thick beard brushing against his own hairless face, almost immediately scratching it), before lowering him once again, this time into the blissfully warm water.
“You don’t have to do this,” he mumbled, humbled and humiliated that Bucky felt the need to baby him to this extent. It was just a bad day, after all. “It’s okay, Bucky, I can bathe myself.”
“I know you can,” Bucky said. The warm wash cloth he’d soaped up crawled over Peter’s skin, washing the day’s grime away. “But you don’t have to today.”
His cheeks burned, but he knew this was just a way of Bucky saying he loved him. He let the man bathe him and wash his hair, perfectly content and relaxed as the warmth of the water seeped into his muscles. Bucky sat beside the tub as he soaked, delicately caressing Peter’s palms with his metal hand, ordering Thai takeout for dinner on his phone with the other.
Peter was dressed in a clean, baggy T-shirt (Bucky’s, since his were so much bigger and better for sleeping in) and a pair of his most comfortable boxer briefs (his own, because Bucky’s wouldn’t fit). Bucky had just finished towel-drying his hair when the doorbell rang, and kissed Peter softly on the forehead as he stood to collect their dinner.
They curled up on the couch to eat, and Bucky dimmed the lights, put on Peter’s favorite episode of The Mandalorian (season two episode 5, obviously) and cradled Peter almost entirely in his lap, feeding them both off of one massive plate. Again, Peter was initially mortified by their position, but it was so nice to be held, cuddled, and fed like he was the most precious thing in the world, and even after a full day of building machinery, Bucky somehow smelled so good. It didn’t take long until Peter found himself tucked beneath the man’s chin, curled up into a little ball, so relaxed that he’d completely forgotten it was a bad day at all.
“I love you, baby,” Bucky mumbled into his hair. They’d finished eating ages ago, and Bucky had replaced their massive plate of pad thai with a thick, cuddly throw blanket. Peter sighed happily and nuzzled Bucky’s warm throat.
“I love you too,” he said quietly, speaking softly like this moment of total bliss might break apart if he spoke too loud. “Thank you for cheering me up. I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Never let you have a bad day if I can help it, sugar. You’re my everything. I just want you to be healthy, safe and okay.”
Peter’s eyes suddenly felt a little damp, even though he didn’t feel like crying at all. In fact, he was smiling, so grateful for the man holding him in his strong arms.
I’m going to marry him someday, he promised himself, and found himself smiling harder.
Tomorrow, the note he would slip into Bucky’s lunchbox was going to say just that.
#submission#winterspider#🥺🥺🥺#this is so sweet oh my god#I teared up#I love my boys so much#you did such a good job!!!#this made my day better#had a piece of cake too while I read it#a good time self care kind of fic#fave#do let me know when/if you post it to ao3 so I can book mark it!!#you wrote their dynamic so well#🥺 thank you for sending/writing me this#it was super sweet and you didn't have too
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