#new tag because I WILL find this post when it happens and I WILL scream about it

[indiiglow]

I am not responsible for the person I will become when we finally get to meet Gaster

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Only Fans (18+)

Bayverse!Raphael x reader

A/N: Inspired by a post I saw here on Tumblr. I can’t remember who posted it, so if someone knows who they are, please tag them and let them know I wrote something inspired by their little Raph x reader Only Fans idea. Because honestly, I agree. I think he would be into that, ngl.

Takes place in a world where mutants are accepted in human society.

All characters are aged up.

Warnings: Size difference (size kink?), filming, filming of porn?, voyeurism?, rough sex.

It started with small home videos, you and your boyfriend made for only the two of you to enjoy. The first film was due to the simple reason, that Raph wanted you to see what he saw whenever his thick member stretched you out. You were only able to feel it, not see it. His thick, almost over sized green member pushing in and out of you, with your wetness all over it. It was erotic to watch, you would have to admit that. And that was when you and Raph had the idea to continue filming yourselves just for the fun of it.

Then the need for money came into play. Both you and Raph worked a lot, but with the whole world only getting more and more expensive, especially in a city like New York, with everything but the wages raising, you and Raph had to find another way to make income on the side. And the idea came surprisingly quick to the two of you - opening an Only Fans.

Human mutant relationships were nothing new at that point. They had been happening for years, especially after the official acceptance of mutants in society. Yet you and Raph were surprised to see how few videos of humans and mutants that were on the internet. It was an untouched market, just waiting for you and your boyfriend to tap into it. And with the thought of knowing people would watch what your boyfriend was able to do to you, excited the two of you quite a lot.

Your first video was a success. Filmed on your shared bed with the camera angled just right, so that Raph’s large member thrusting in and out of you was on full display, both of your faces out of the line of sight. And with the title “Mutants ramming human hard from behind”, both mutants and humans were on it in no time.

One video became two, and then two became five, and soon it was a whole thing. You and Raph was gaining the money you needed, just by having sex in the comfort of your own home. Even before you and Raphg started this Only Fans thing, the two of you had a very busy and healthy sex life. Now you had a busy and healthy sex life, gaining money on it. You only saw wins.

Your most popular video to date, was one of you and Raph on the couch, with the camera standing on the coffee table. It started with the two of you being dressed in very formal clothing, as the two of you had just gotten home from a date at a local restaurant, making out with your faces just out of the shot. It didn’t take long before Raph had your red dress pushed up, your lace panties pulled to the side, and his long finger inside of you, making you moan and whimper as you held on to him for dear life. Soon, Raph’s slack pants was down around his angels with you straddling his waist, bouncing on his long erection, his large hands holding your dress up and panties to the side. Soon it took the turn that you and Raph’s videos usually did. As the intensity grew, things got rougher, resulting in Raph ripping off your underwear, before grabbing a hold of your waist from under your thighs, leaving your legs dangling up over his big strong arms. From this angel it was easy for him to lift you up before slamming you down onto him once again, making you scream and moan, while Raph groaned and churred. It ended with both of you caming hard, with you having an earth shattering orgasm that left shaking and convulsing on Raph, while he shot his white robes into you.

You couldn’t walk right for a whole week after that, proving in more ways than the numbers on the video, that it had been a success. And as soon as your legs were functioning normally again, you and Raph was back on it again, making hard rough love in front of a camera.

[thatoneweirdgirl17]

Okay I came up with this at work because I was left alone with my thoughts for 10 hrs.

Imagine a feyd x single mom reader except the baby is Paul’s. Reader used to be a servant in caladan and eventually her and Paul messed around, she approached lady Jessica in confidence for help but instead got sold off because Paul getting a servant girl pregnant was not part of her plan. Later feyd kinda saves reader from the a-hole who bought her but in reality he was there to kill the guy for betraying the baron and saw reader and decided he wanted her. He finds out she’s already pregnant but instead of killing her of getting rid of her he kinda hides her away so he can have his own secret lil family (maybe as a way to cope with the childhood that was stolen from him). Feyd has his harpies protect and hide her and the baby and over time the girls bond (baby is having the worlds most protective and feral aunties). Eventually reader tell feyd who the baby’s dad is and explains how she ended up at the a-holes house. Feyd finds the situation hilarious but still decides to protect reader and raise the baby as his own (not really out of love but more as a jab at Paul like haha I have your toys but they do eventually grow to care about each other, maybe not love but definitely a codependency). When the baby is born he immediately becomes attached to her (I must protect this tiny creature) which is a new emotion to him.For a couple of years baby girl grows up seeing feyd as her dad. Eventually the events of dune happen and right before Paul is about to stab him, feyd says something along the lines “ go ahead and kill me in front of your daughter”. Paul is understandingly confused until a lil 4-5 year old comes running out to feyd screaming daddy and using the voice to make Paul back off. Everyone can instantly see who her biological father is since she has his hair, eyes and is able to use the voice. Feyd would definitely have a shit eating grin when Paul learns that his mother is the reason his daughter grew up without him. Paul tries to approach her but she turns her head and says to feyd “daddy I wanna go home” and Paul’s heart just breaks at the realization that he lost his daughter before he even knew about her. Paul can’t kill Feyd since he would loose his daughter even more and they basically create a custody agreement where Paul can come and visit her every month.

Please if someone turns this into a fic tag me so I can read🙏

Edit: I am planning on writing this out but give me some time since it will be my first fanfic since high school

@dreamlandcreations @triluvial @austinbutlerslovers @sansaorgana @purejasmine @sebastianswallows

Update

I finally had time to start writing this and although it’s my first fic I’m really proud of it. I ended up making a second account with the intent to only post fics there to make things easier for myself. If you’re interested in reading I’ll add a link under this.

[rainba]

Here it is... The fic where Luka kidnaps both his darling and Kairos.

TWs/tags: human furniture, dubcon, kidnapping, slight depiction of violence, pet play, NSFW, mind break, cucking (?), dark content, use of shock collars

Reader is GN, however, there is one paragraph where the reader is gendered. The asterisk* will mark the paragraph with afab reader, and the one in parenthesis is amab. :3c)

MDNI! 18+

In one previous post, I mentioned that Kairos and Luka do live in the same universe and city– and in a few other posts, I mentioned that they’d never share their darling. If one of them tries to kidnap darling, they’ll just report the other to the police. 

Then another idea came up, a way that Luka could circumvent that predicament: Luka figures that Kairos would instantly report him if he kidnapped his darling. So… In order to stop that from happening…

Luka would kidnap both you and Kairos.

Luka’s house is definitely big enough to keep both of you. In the beginning stages, he’ll keep Kairos locked up in the attic while he keeps you in the basement. The basement is much cozier– meanwhile the attic is all dusty, hot, and muggy.

Between you and Kairos, Luka will be much, much nicer to you. He’s (quite literally) obsessed with you, so of course you get the better treatment. He cooks your favorite meals and feeds them to you by hand. He gives you plenty of water and always showers you in attention– sometimes he’ll even place a TV down in the basement and let you watch random stuff. You know, just so you don’t get too bored. He wants you to feel at home–! When you learn to accept your new life, he’ll spoil you rotten.

But for Kairos..? Luka is absolutely brutal.

Luka will rub in the fact that he beat Kairos in “winning you.” He’s simply just the superior man– the superior partner. Luka loves you too much to ever let you go. After all, you're the only person that has ever made him feel anything at all. And he really drives in the fact that you belong to him, and that Kairos will never have the chance to even touch you.

Luka will walk circles around Kairos as he mocks him relentlessly.

“Nobody is looking for you.”

“You’re pathetic. Disgusting freak.”

“They’re all mine, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Kairos will scream, squirm, and cry as much as he possibly can– but nobody can hear him. Luka is right: nobody is looking for him. Kairos doesn’t have any family. He doesn’t have any friends. He’s stuck in this hell forever.

To keep Kairos alive, Luka gives him his leftovers. He dumps it onto the dirty ground and drags Kairos next to it, commanding him to “eat up.” Kairos is forced to pathetically writhe on the floor and eat without his hands– all because Luka refuses to untie him. As for water, Luka forces Kairos to drink out of a dog bowl.

Most of the time, Kairos can’t hear anything. Luka’s house is eerily quiet at night. And during the day, Kairos can sometimes hear the sounds of children laughing and playing outside, or he’ll just hear Luka casually going about his day as if there aren't two people locked up in his house.

It’s torturous.

Over time, Luka will get you to warm up to him– call it stockholm syndrome kicking in, if you will. Or maybe you already loved him and he just needed to build trust with you. Either way– you eventually upgrade from the basement to his bedroom. And that’s when things get infinitely worse for Kairos.

He’s not just listening to Luka going about his daily routine now– no, now he has to also listen to the two of you fucking multiple times a day. The way you’re moaning out another man's name… The sound of the bed creaking and banging against the wall… Kairos finds himself choking and sobbing as he’s stuck tied to the chair. Sometimes he starts to dissociate and pretends that he’s somewhere else.

Most of the time he pretends that the two of you just got married, and he’s playing out different scenarios of honeymoons in his head.

After a few more weeks or months go by, Luka will grow bored of keeping Kairos tied up in the attic. If he’s gonna keep a hostage, he might as well put them to good use. So what does he do with Kairos?

He uses him as human furniture. Forces him to also be a pet.

You’re horrified as you watch Kairos crawling around the house with a gag in his mouth and a leash attached to his throat. If Luka feels bold enough, he might even have the words “Luka’s Bitch” decorated on the collar. Oh– and it’s not just a regular collar, either. It’s a shock collar.

Any time Kairos acts out and disobeys Luka, he earns himself a shock so powerful that it causes him to seize and collapse onto the floor.

…This entire time, you thought it was just you in the house. You didn’t know there was another person. You’re not alone.

It makes your stomach churn.

And Luka encourages you to use Kairos as furniture as well. Use him as a footrest, use him as a table or a chair– do whatever.

Over time, deep down, incomprehensible and guilty thoughts begin to appear in Kairos’ mind. Things that made him once want to throw up now make him feel… Funny. He’s so happy that he gets to see your face again��!! He’s finally reunited with the love of his life, it’s just a shame it’s under such horrible circumstances.

Kairos doesn’t mind if you use him like furniture. It’s okay if you do it. But he loathes it when it’s Luka who’s using him.

The difference between you and Luka is like night and day. While Luka berates and degrades him, sometimes even depriving him of basic necessities, you always sneak around and give Kairos lots of love and extra food. 

Kairos always breaks down and cries in your arms when you show him kindness– he’s so very thankful for it. But be sure that Luka doesn’t catch you. If he sees you being sweet towards Kairos, he’ll harshly punish Kairos and then fuck you right in front of him. Every time.

Kairos always feels so pathetic as he's forced to watch you getting ravaged by Luka. The way you're moaning under his touch... The hot, sticky sound of Luka's cock sliding in and out of you... All of this happening while Kairos is tied down and unable to do a thing. He's so fucking hard, and there's nothing there to relieve him. Luka punishes Kairos if he dares to look away.

In order to gain more privileges, both you and Kairos need to work to gain Luka’s favor. If the both of you prove that you’re capable of being trusted, he might give you more freedom. He’ll let you look out the windows every now and then– might even let you use the kitchen. He's much more open to giving you privileges than he is to giving Kairos any.

Except, of course, he always hides all of the sharp objects in the house. He doesn’t want you two to have access to weapons. And if you try to poison him even once, he’ll immediately make the kitchen permanently off limits when he's not around to watch you.

Also, over time, another funny thing happens. Luka doesn’t really like punishing you outside of sex- he'd much rather shower you in rewards. He’d rather save the roughness and punishments for more intimate settings. After all, he’s trying to earn your love– not make you hate him. So, what does he do instead?

Every time you act up, he’ll drag Kairos by his leash and punish him in your stead. After all, he knows that you care about Kairos and his wellbeing, so he uses that against you.

Oh, you just tried to break out of the house? You tried to poison Luka? Well, that deserves a proper punishment. Luka will tie you to a chair and force you to watch as he brutalizes Kairos. Whips him with a belt, kicks him in the stomach, takes away his food privileges for the next 48 hours... It’s horrible.

And in a way… This would cause Kairos to start policing you, too. Which is exactly what Luka wants. Kairos really, really doesn’t want to get punished. I mean, deep down, he’s absolutely happy that he gets to take the beating instead of you– it’s like he’s your hero!! …In some weird and twisted sense. But also, he really doesn’t want to get punished, so… Please don’t act out.

However, when the months keep rolling in, Luka will slowly warm up to Kairos. All of the punishments will grow less severe– and sometimes, Luka just lets you all off with a warning. It’s obvious that a big change has happened when instead of Luka just fucking you in front of Kairos, he lets him join in on the fun.

Except Luka doesn’t really want to touch him– so, he’ll let you touch Kairos instead. It’s what Kairos always wanted��� Right?

Kairos should thank him. 

Luka will tie his arms behind his back and keep him firmly locked to a chair, completely naked. Kairos feels so ashamed that he’s hard– but god, he can’t help it. He’s so excited to finally be able to touch you, his darling, the person that should’ve always been his–!

And Luka will make sure it’s enjoyable for everyone. Luka will strip you of your clothes, but he might put you in a cute pair of thigh highs, just for the fun of it. Luka will grab you by your hair and push your face into Kairos’ lap as he utters one phrase, “suck it.”

You’ll do as you’re told– you don’t have much of a choice. Kairos’ eyes instantly light up as you wrap your lips around his sensitive cock.

Finally– his dreams are coming true…! 

Sort of.

As you suck him off, Luka will lift your ass into the air and he’ll fuck your tight hole. He’ll keep his right hand on your hip while his left hand grabs the back of your head, lacing his fingers into your hair. He doesn’t care if you can barely breathe– he’ll shove your head all the way down on Kairos’ dick as he bottoms out inside of you. Occasionally, he’ll lift your head up and lean in to kiss you on the lips.

It’s all so hot– but ultimately, it’s all for you and himself. Luka will always make sure you cum, that’s his top priority. His second priority is to make sure he gets to fill you up. As for Kairos? Well… Luka doesn’t care all that much.

If Kairos doesn’t cum? That’s too bad. It’s Kairos’ own fault that he didn’t come undone. But if he does cum? That’s alright too. 

However, don’t expect Luka to make you stop sucking. Kairos will be squirming in his chair whining like crazy as you overstimulate him, his body trembling from the sensation, but you can’t stop until Luka says you can stop.

The second scenario is much more likely to happen than the first. The moment Kairos looks down and sees your fucked-out face choking on his length… He’ll cum right on the spot– every single time, without fail.

After the first instance of Luka letting Kairos join in the sex, he earns a lot more privileges. He can finally sleep in the same room as you two–!! But he’s not really allowed to rest on the bed. He’ll be forced to curl up and sleep on the floor– but hey, it beats the attic any day, right?

Luka also takes off Kairos' shock collar. Since Kairos has proved himself to be a good boy, he's now allowed to roam around freely. Hell, sometimes Luka will pet Kairos and give him some praise. It... Makes Kairos feel strange, but in a good way.

Kairos is also now allowed to cuddle you sometimes. When you’re simply sitting on the couch and trying to relax, Kairos will immediately hurry over to your side and rest his head in your lap– desperate to feel even an ounce of affection from you. He might ask you to stroke his hair and kiss the bruises Luka left on his skin.

* If Luka is at work and Kairos knows there’s no cameras around, he might beg to suck on your tits– you know, for comfort reasons! It would really make him happy to have them in his mouth– it would be therapeutic, even.

((And if you’re a guy, Kairos will instead beg to frot you. While it’s a lot more dangerous and the punishment for getting caught is heavy, Kairos is willing to risk it all. Don’t worry–! You can just sit there and relax; Kairos will be the one doing all the work with his hand.))

You know how stressful and traumatizing this whole situation has been for him… He needs to be comforted so badly… So.. Pretty please?

In some sick and twisted way, over time, Kairos grows to like the way things are– perhaps his mind does this as a way to cope. He tries his hardest to find all the positives in living this kind of life:

> He gets to spend every minute of every day with you!

> He doesn’t have to worry about talking to strangers.

> He doesn’t have to work and maintain a job.

> He doesn’t have to cook and clean for himself.

The list goes on. Kairos gains all of these benefits, and all he has to do is give up most of his basic human rights and submit to another man…!

Okay, Kairos still admits that is pretty bad. But… At least he has you…! That’s all Kairos really cares about in the end!

For Luka? He’s satisfied with the way things are. Not only does he not have to worry about Kairos ratting him out to the police, but now he has both the love of his life right by his side and a fun little pet to take his stress out on. 

So… Everyone… Wins? In the end? ❤️

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddie-spooktober.

Bats in the Belfry

Prompt: Bats | Word Count: 2400 | Rating: T | POV: Steve | Pairing: Pre-Steddie | CW: Language | Tags: Post S4 Events, Eddie Died...Or Did He?, Eddie Munson: Bat Boy, Steve Harrington: Exasperated Human

There's a colony of bats that keep swarming the house. It's odd. They've never been there before, and now it's like they're drawn to him. Steve wonders if this is some sort of horrible side effect of his bat bites from the Upside Down. Maybe he's a bat whisperer now, but he can't be sure because they won't light anywhere long enough for him to actually interact with them.

Not that he really wants to interact with them. But if they are gonna keep roosting around the pool, he'd rather find out why.

It's not the first time he thinks that if Eddie were still here, then at least he'd have someone else to ask, to see if this is happening to him, too. But he's not, and Steve's had to come to terms with that. He failed. They lost one of their own. Yeah, Eddie was new to the group, and Steve didn't know him well, but Dustin is mourning his loss. Big time. 

They all are, in their own ways.

Steve is just handing over cash to pay for the pizza he's had delivered, when a bat flies in through the front door, and immediately clings to the ceiling, out of reach. Great, that's just what Steve needs. A bat in his house. Robin will really freak out if he can't get it out before bedtime. She'll be sure he's gonna get rabies if he goes to sleep with that thing in here, and undoubtedly gets bit by it. And honestly? He cannot get that awful round of shots around his belly button just to ease her mind. He can't.

He loves her, but that's not happening.

So, Steve finds the broom in the closet, and tries to usher the bat back outside without letting more in, but it's not at all interested in exiting. Instead flies right up the stairs, and as Steve gives chase, he sees it fly into his open bedroom.

Great. Just fantastic.

Now, it's just sitting on the edge of his headboard, staring back at him.

"Um, I think you're a little lost. The other bats are hanging out by the pool," Steve says. Which, fine. He can give up the pool. But he really can't give up his bedroom. 

The bat just tilts his little head, as if he's listening, but not taking initiative to get the fuck out of the house.

"You can't stay here, you have to leave," Steve says and goes and opens his bedroom window. "Out!"

Then the bat zips over, but not to leave. Of course not. Instead it perches on Steve's shoulder and Steve's first instinct is to knock it away and scream bloody murder. But he doesn't. He just tries to focus on the little eyes looking back at him. He's too close to really see it well, but Steve's trying.

Steve leans towards the open window, and shakes and shimmies, trying to force it to let go of his shirt, but the bat just leans in the opposite direction, towards Steve's neck. Wings tickling Steve's skin. The bat is clearly not leaving.

Then it starts squeaking and chirping, and batting its wings and Steve sees why. There are other bats flapping towards the open window.

Oh, hell no.

He slams it shut.

"Are they picking on you for some reason?" Steve asks, as if he'll get an answer. "It's not because you have rabies, right?"

The bat doesn't answer, of course, but kind of slaps him in the face with a wing, and Steve's gonna take that as a no. 

"I can't have a pet bat," Steve says, "that's weird, even for everything I've ever experienced."

Then, like it's offended, it's flapping its way into the closet, rooting around, as if it's looking for something, if that's possible.

Steve peeks in, and watches as it settles on Eddie's stained battle vest. 

Well, that seems fitting, somehow.

Steve pushes the other clothes around, giving the bat some room, and closes the door to the closet. Leaving it in darkness. They like that, don't they? He thinks so. Nocturnal and all that shit.

And at least it's trapped in the closet, and not flying around the room.

"Don't bite me. That's the only rule," Steve says through the closed door, and hopes it fucking listens if it somehow finds its way out overnight.

In the morning, Steve cracks open the door and peeks into the closet, and where the bat was last night, is something that's taken the shape of Eddie Munson right there on the floor, buck-ass naked.

Now, Steve screams.

And that wakes the Eddie-shaped thing up, making it jump. Steve is fucking freaked out, and he slams the closet door shut, and leans against it. Blocking whatever that thing is, inside. Steve needs help. He needs Robin, and Nancy, the kids. He needs everybody. He needs his bat, the nailed one, not whatever this thing is. 

But he can't get any of those things without leaving his post and possibly letting this thing loose.

"What are you?" Steve demands through the door he's trying to hold shut. Every monster he's faced has been, well, pretty straightforwardly monster-looking. Not human at all.

"I'm Kas the Betrayer! Kas the Destroyer! Kas the Bloody-Handed! The First Vampire!" it shouts, way too loud and over-dramatic. It sounds ridiculous.

"Really?" Steve asks. Because he's suspicious of these claims. All that? It's a little much. 

There's a chuckle behind the door, "No, of course not, Harrington. I'm the town freak, accused murderer," comes the voice that sounds exactly like Eddie. It sends a chill down Steve's spine.

And then he's mad.

"No, you're not! Eddie's dead!" Steve yells, because whatever it actually is, saying that, well, that's pissing him off. If Dustin sees this thing, he's gonna freak out.

"Really not, big boy," Eddie says, and that gives Steve pause.

It can't be. No way. 

"Eddie?"

"That's my name, don't wear it out," Eddie snarks, and Steve laughs. His heart is still pounding, but he loosens up, just a little. Maybe this is Eddie. Somehow. El's different and they've all accepted her, so, maybe Eddie is different now, too.

"Are you a bat?" Steve asks.

"Only sometimes. I can't control it."

"Are you really a vampire?" Steve asks.

"Not that I know of," Eddie answers. "But I could bite you, and then we'd find out together." 

Steve sighs with exasperation. 

"Be serious. Are you gonna attack me if I open the closet door?" Steve questions, because he's not in the mood for a fight. Not this early in the morning.

"Wasn't planning on it," Eddie says, dryly. "Can I at least get some underwear before you fling those doors open, though? For my modesty, dude. I'm feeling a little exposed in here. It's awfully breezy for a closet. There's an air vent blowing right up my crac-"

"Okay, okay, hold your horses," Steve interrupts.

If this isn't Eddie, it's a damn good mimic, and Steve supposes if that's the case, it deserves to kill him, just for being such a good actor. 

Steve goes over to his dresser, and picks up his walkie, turning it on, clipping it to his belt under his shirt. Just in case. Grabs his nailbat from under the bed, leaning it against the dresser.

Then he looks inside the top drawer, shouting, "Boxers or briefs?"

"Boxers!" Eddie answers, and Steve picks out a pair that he could stand to lose, and cracks the door open, and holds them out. A pale, ring-covered hand takes them. 

"You keep your rings when you change, but not your clothes?" Steve asks, leaning against the door again. Suspicious.

"I don't make the rules, Harrington. Last time I woke up wearing only my socks. That was a great look."

Steve laughs, even if he doesn't want to, even if he wants to be cautious. It just sounds dumb enough to be something that could happen to Eddie Munson, if he was turning into a bat.

Then, a minute later, "Okay. My dick's covered."

Steve shakes his head, unable to bite back the smile that threatens to split his face, as he eases the door open. As promised, Eddie's standing there in Steve's boxers, dick covered, and Eddie's also scrounged up an old swim team long-sleeve t-shirt from the depths of the closet.

And then they just stare at each other.

"Eddie?"

"Yep."

"Explain yourself," Steve says, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Um, I'm a part-time bat now?" Eddie says, looking sheepish. "From the bites, I guess?"

"I'm not a bat! And I got bit, too!" Steve screeches. He doesn't think he's a bat. But what if he's a bat and he just hasn't realized it yet? Fuck. Maybe he's a goddamn bat and that's why all the bats are lurking around the house.

"Did you die?" Eddie asks, "Because I did, I think. At least a little. Something happened when I came back."

"You became a bat? Can you like, poof, switch? Is there smoke?" Steve asks, then digs in his dresser, tossing Eddie a pair of joggers.

When he looks back, Eddie's at least a little more decent. Then he digs out a pair of socks, and tosses them over.

Eddie hops around getting them on each of his feet.

"No, I'm not Dracula," Eddie says, "Jesus H. Christ, Harrington. Keep up. Like I said. I can't control it. At least, not yet. The sun goes down? Bat. The sun goes up? Eddie. Most of the time, anyway. It's frustratingly unpredictable."

Steve ponders that, "Are you still…you? When you're a bat? Like, do you remember it?"

"Yeah, sure, I just can't talk. Which, for me, that's pretty fucking rough, man."

"I bet," Steve snarks, and Eddie just grins. 

Steve's relieved. He's probably not a bat, then. But he better make sure.

"Am I a bat?" Steve asks.

"Yep. You're the ringleader. King Steve, Bat God."

"Really?" Steve asks, the idea making him a little queasy. He doesn't want to be the ringleader of bats.

"No! You don't think you'd know if you were a bat? I think you're the one with bats in the belfry!" Eddie snaps, waving his arms around his head, indicating he thinks Steve is the crazy one. Which is pretty fucking rich, coming from bat boy over here.

"I don't know! I've never been a bat before!" Steve argues back, hands on his hips.

"And you still aren't one now!" Eddie yaps.

If he's not the King of Bats, and they aren't at the house to follow him, well. He has a thought: "Are you the one that brought all the goddamn bats to my house, then?"

"Um, no?" Eddie says, clearly lying.

"Eddie."

"I didn't mean to. They all started following me. Like they think I'm their leader. I can't shake 'em. When I saw the opportunity to get away from them and get into your house at the same time, I took it. Sorry about that."

"You don't sound sorry."

"I'm not, I lied to make you feel better," Eddie says, and Steve laughs, and Eddie smiles at him. It's good to see him, honestly.

And he allows himself a second or two just to take him in, alive and mostly well, then declares, "I'm glad you're okay. Sometimes bat or not."

"Thanks, Steve. Me too."

"Does anyone else know about you?" Steve asks, because they're gonna have to protect him. Just like they protect El. The special ones, amongst them. Keep it quiet.

"Um, no?" Eddie says, clearly lying again.

"Eddie."

"My uncle. And Gareth."

Steve is only vaguely aware of who that is, and only because of Henderson.

"That's it? Just the two of them?" Two's not so bad. They can deal with two-

"And JeffandGoodie," Eddie adds in a rush, as if mashing the two names together will make it less of a problem. Steve crosses his arms. 

"Eddie! You should have told one of us first. Me, or Henderson. Nancy. Lucas, Erica-"

"I'm scared of Erica," Eddie interrupts.

"Join the club, we're all scared of Erica!" Steve responds, "Fuck, you could have told Mike, I don't care. Just any one of us, in the know."

"I'm so sorry, Harrington, that I went to my own friends first instead of you and your monster version of the Scooby Gang. Hardy Boys. Nancy Drew. I don't know. All of you freaks."

Steve laughs, "Oh, now we're the freaks?"

"You know about monsters. You kill monsters. That's kind of freak behavior, Harrington."

Fair enough, Steve supposes, and he giggles at the thought of himself in an ascot like Fred Jones. Eddie's just poking at him. It's what he's always been good at, running his mouth and pissing people off.

Snapping back to the problem at hand, he honestly thinks he likes Eddie Munson. Smart mouth and all. Maybe they could be friends. Which he could have never imagined saying before spring break. He's really glad Eddie made it out, even if he's changed. They're all changed, just not in the exact same way as Eddie, and that's okay.

He's gotta tell Henderson. Pull that kid out of his funk. And Eddie's gonna love seeing Henderson's longer hair, rings and whole Eddie-inspired change. Steve's gotta be there when Eddie lays eyes on him for the first time.

"My band, they're pretty excited. A metal band with a real bat playing lead guitar? That's a multi-million dollar proposal, right?"

"Sure, Munson. I just hope after your first gig you enjoy your government sponsored cage, because that's exactly where you'll end up. Being poked and prodded. The freak."

Eddie sighs, and flops on Steve's bed, "I know. But let a guy dream."

Steve nods, and lays down next to him, shoulder-to-shoulder, "Eddie Munson. Bat Boy. Just like I saw on the cover of The National Enquirer."

"Weekly World News, Harrington, get it right."

And Steve just laughs, turning his head to look at him, "We should call the others. They'll be so excited to see you."

"Give me a few minutes?" Eddie asks, and Steve nods. He can give him a few minutes. 

And they just lay there in the quiet, the morning sun peeking through the curtains. Warm glow, all around.

"I turn into a bat," Eddie finally says.

"Yes, you do," Steve confirms.

How fucking weird is that? Only in Hawkins.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries, pop over to @steddie-spooktober and follow along with the spooky fun! 🦇

Notes: Bat Boy did not actually make his debut in the supermarket tabloid Weekly World News until 1992. Guess in their universe he popped up a little bit earlier, lol. I couldn't resist. And the twenty-one shots around belly button rabies shots have gone out of standard since the 80s.

[kar1nsworldx]

Chrismd with a massive crush on arsenal or Chelsea super league player 😩

Eyes on the target

pairing: ChrisMD x f!reader Instagram!AU SUMMARY: fans slowly realise that a certain youtuber has a crush on their favourite female football player requested: yessir! my apologies anon that it took so long to post, but I really hope that you like this! I tryed to write it as long as i could x AUTHOR'S NOTE: loved writing this and I hope anon that you got what you wanted! Please do send more requests, I'd love to write more <3

ˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝗠𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 🧸ྀི

ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩

y/n l/n

liked by arsenalwfc, ksi and 67, 552 others

y/n l/n: what a night to be a gunner 😍

tagged: @arsenalwfc

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COMMENTS;

leahwilliamsonn: get it ❣️

bethmead_: iconic night? I think yes xxx

ksi: went to the game, absolute banger of a goal

y/n l/n: haha tysm, big fan of your lots videos x

use4r: lmaoo did not expect ksi to be here 💀💀

kimlittle1990: a screamer was scored tonight 💋

y/n l/n: all thanks to you 😍😍

katie_mccabe11: ❤

caitlinfoord: ❤

laiacodina5: ❤

y/nily: what a player

user101: were so happy to have you y/n, welcome to the club <3

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y/n l/n

liked by caitlinfoord, chrismd10 and 72,832 others

y/n l/n: thank you everybody for such a wonderful night and season!! much love for you all - 24/25. see you soon ❣️

tagged: @arsenalwfc

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COMMENTS;

drinkprime: 🔥🔥🔥

caitlinfoord: 🫂🫂🫂

user777: y/n do you accept my hand in marrige? 🤲💍

y/n l/n: mmmm maybe one day, but atm I think I have someone on my mind, I'm sorry 🫂

user777: AHHHHH YOU REPLIED HOLY SHIT

useroo: who is on your mind exactly miss y/n?? 🤨🤨

y/n l/n: mmm i don't know, I think I'll keep that a secret for now 🤭😚🤫

useroo: ULQDBDIXCIAOKSBCJCJJXNDBEJOWJDNC

y/nmarryme: y/n i love you 🗣

arsenalwfc: thank you y/n!

chrismd10: miss l/n everybody 💪🔥

y/n l/n: chriss 💪😍

xeuserxe: umm.... okay 🤨

us3r: the emonji combo????????

katie_mccabe11: the woman herself, y/n l/n 💋😍

y/n l/n: katie my love 💋💋💋

katie_mccabe11: 🫂🫂🫂

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y/n l/n

liked by chrismd10, miniminter and 56,892 others

y/n l/n: just because the season ended dosen't mean my love for football did ☺️ new youtube video coming out in 3 days everybody xxx 🌟

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COMMENTS;

xeuserxe: AHHHH can't wait to see it!!! 😚

user111: mmmmmm whos that in the third picture? 🤨🤨🤨

y/n l/n: you'll find out soon enough xx

user111: 🤨🤨🤨

drinkprime: 🔥🔥🔥

y/n l/n: prime 🤝 me

ksi: hell yeah ❤

us3r: sidemen x y/n video when???!???

sidemen: 👀🤫

useroo: WAIT WHAT

chrismd10: sick video coming out soon 🔥

y/n l/n: yessir 🗣

userly: chris how would you know that its a good video 🤨🤨🤨

usermybeloved: something is going on between them I just know it

laiacodina5: you just can't stay away from the stadium can you?

y/n l/n: you know I can't lovely 😚

user505: MOTHERRRR 🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣

y/n l/n: CHILDDDD 🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣

user505: OHMYGOD YOU ACTUALLY RESPONDED I AM SCREAMING WHAT THE FUCK AAHWWHDUCEHJCCHHCHCHDHJC

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chrismd10

liked by y/n l/n, georgeclarkeey and 562,777 others

chrismd10: England's national darlings and @y/n l/n

tagged: @bukayosaka87 @y/n l/n

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COMMENTS;

y/n l/n: Christopher count your days

chrismd10: yes dear, of course dear ❤

user444: LMAOOOO WHAT

userly: AHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHA

useredup: istg somethings deffinitly up theyre fighting like an old married couple

bukayosaka87: ❤

y/n l/n: my photo creds??? where????

chrismd10: sorry gorgeous, forgot to mention that ❤

y/n l/n: mhm, sure sure 🙄❤

user777: THE HEARTS??? "GORGEOUS"????? WHAT IS HAPPENING

useroo: this was not on my 2024 bingo card

miniminter: lucky bastard

theobaker_: @y/n l/n be advised that prick never gives photo credits

y/n l/n: thank you for the information theo x

chrismd10: mate shut up

arthurtv: can I come next time? I want to met y/n too :(

chrismd10: no

y/n l/n: christopher you better bring him too next time

chrismd10: yes ma'am

arthurtv: yay!

y/n l/n: 🫂

xeuserxe: BAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA

user505: y/n is becoming arthurs parent confirmed

us3r: I love them

userly: AGHHHHHH THE CAT IS SO CUTE WTF????????

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arthurtv

liked by georgeclarkeey, tobjizzle and 102,732 others

arthurtv: mama y papa - chris actually took me to meet the legend herself, y/n l/n!! 🎉

tagged: @y/n l/n @chrismd10 @mycoffee:)

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COMMENTS;

y/n l/n: ARTHURRRRRRRR :))))) 🫂🫂🫂🫂

arthurtv: Y/NNNNNNNNNN :))))) 🫂🫂🫂🫂

chrismd10: why are you never this nice to me

y/n l/n: fuck off chris

chrismd10: ...

user111: AAWHWHHAHSBXJC THEYRE SO CUTE

user101: I LOVE THEM BAHAHAHHAHAHAHA

chrismd10: yea yea youre welcome mate

georgeclarkeey: boyfriend come see me soon :(

arthurtv: george were not boyfriends! but yes i'll come over tomorrow (:

reevhd: cuties

user505: MAMA Y PAPA, MAMA Y PAPA

useredup: arthur became chris's and y/n's offical child, its confirmed

y/nily: arthurtv thank you for this beautiful pictures of y/n

user777: y/n once again I am asking, do you accept my hand in marrige 💍🤲

chrismd10: she does not.

user777: AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA WTF?????

xeuserxe: JELOUS CHIRS????? HELLO????

useroo: I love how Arthur tagged his coffee in the 3rd picture :((((( 🫂

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y/n l/n

liked by jackgrealish, laiacodina5 and 102,652 others

y/n l/n: to my suprise my photographer isn't such a shitty photographer as I thought he'd be

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COMMENTS;

user444: MOTHER IS MOTHERING

chrismd10: 🔥🔥🔥

user101: BAHHAHAHAHAHAHAA SAME CHRIS SAME

useredup: chris youre so real for that

y/n l/n: 😍

useroo: and may we know who this photographer is?

useroo: and do we know of him by any chance???

y/n l/n: 🤷‍♀️🤫🤭

useroo: AGHHHHHH Y/N SAY SOME ACTUAL INFORMATION PLEASE

y/n l/n: nuh uh

useroo: FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK MEEEEEEEE

useredup: @useroo is having a mental breakdown, love to see it

useroo: 😐

laiacodina5: pretty girl

y/n l/n: says you! xxx

katie_mccabe11: literally marry me

y/n l/n: 💋💋💋

chrismd10: im suprised hes even dealing with you considering youre quite a prick

y/n l/n: oh fuck off ya twat

chrismd10: my point has been proven ladies and gentlemen, goodnight

y/n l/n: shut the fuck up (affectionate)

userly: #fav-old-married-couple

user444: i love them

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chrismd10

liked by calfreezy, behzingagram and 232,752 others

chrismd10: theres a silly goose in the last picture, spoiler alert; it's not me!

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COMMENTS;

behzingagram: peng

y/n l/n: 😍

s1demenl0ver: HAHAHAHAHA LITERALLY ME

user101: Y/N IS SO FUCKING REAL

useroo: hm.. 😶🤨

chrismd10: 🔥🔥🔥

calfreezy: brother ditched us

userly: ARE YALL SEEING THE 3RD PIC?????????

user505: I AM LIKE WHO THE FUCK IS THAT WITH HIM?????????

userly: I DONT HAVE A CLUE

useroo: AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

theburntchip: what a man

y/n l/n: I feel bad for that poor girl, because shes the one dealing with YOU, ya fucking twat

chrismd10: shut up ya prick

userly: as I said, their my #fav-old-married-couple

wroetoshaw: nice mate

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chrismd10 added to their story;

⤷ y/n l/n liked chirsmd10's story! ♡

⤷ y/n l/n: twat

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y/n l/n added to their story;

⤷ chrismd10: I literally hate you

⤷ y/n l/n: Ily2!

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lionesses

liked by vikkstagram, calfreezy and 532,477 others

lionesses: we proudly announce that the lionesses have qualified for the euros, thanks to y/n l/n's hattrick! ❤

tagged: @y/n l/n

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COMMENTS;

arsenalwfc: y/n l/n everybody! ❤

y/n l/n: 💋💋💋

chrismd10: LETS GOOOO Y/N!!!! @y/n l/n 🔥

y/n l/n: CHRISSSSSSSSSS 😚❣️💋

behzingagram: get inn 💪

arthurtv: Y/NNNNNNNN 🌟

y/n l/n: ARTHUR 🫂🫂🫂

calfreezy: thats how its done 💪🙏

katie_mccabe11: MISS Y/N EVERYONE

y/n l/n: love ya irish 😚 🇨🇮

leahwilliamsonn: love ya @y/n l/n ❤❤❤

y/n l/n: love you too bae 😍

laiacodina5: thats my girl!!

y/n l/n: 🫂🫂🫂

theburntchip: yes lass 💪

georgeclarkeey: yessir

ksi: 🙏

tobjizzle: ❤

philfoden: congrats! 💙

jackgrealish: well done ladies 💙💙

rico.lewis: 💙

wroetoshaw: very nice

kylewalker2: 💙

johnstones5: 💙

miniminter: 🔥

drinkprime: thats how its done 🔥

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y/n l/n

liked by arsenalwfc, arthurtv and 60,854 others

y/n l/n: Pre-season in the states 🇺🇲

tagged: @arsenalwfc @kyracooneyx

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COMMENTS;

usermybeloved: y/n in her editing era 🔥

user007: lets goooo

arthurtv: good luck y/n!

y/n l/n: thank you arthur!

arthurtv: :)

chrismd10: yea yea good luck ya prick 🔥

y/n l/n: thank you twat 😚

kyracooneyx: 💪💪💪

arsenalwfc: glad to have you back l/n! 😉🙌

theobaker_: lets gooooooo arsenal ❤

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y/n l/n

liked by chrismd10, drinkprime and 91,576 others

y/n l/n: Third kit is a charm ❤ #coyg

tagged: @arsenal @arsenalwfc @adidasfootball

.

COMMENTS;

userly: stunning stunning girl xx

useredup: ahhhhhh you look so good!!!

adidasfootball: 💪😉

chrismd10: fucking peng

y/n l/n: 💋💋💋

user101: OH???!?????? 🤨👀

us3r: EXCUSE ME

user2.0: OHMAGAWD

drinkprime: 🔥🔥🔥

arsenal: looking good miss l/n 💪

y/nily: y/n look bad in a kit challange (impossible)

user777: y/n pls marry me? 💍🤲

chrismd10: she says no xx

user101: BAHHAHAHAHAHA CHRIS ILY

useroo: BAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAA

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y/n l/n

liked by chrismd10, georgeclarkeey and 78,237 others

y/n l/n: is mister pickles 🥒 an icon? sources suggest that he is (sources; me, chrismd, arthurtv, georgeclarkey)!

tagged: @chrismd10 @arthurtv @georgeclarkeey

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COMMENTS;

chrismd10: hes more iconic than you thats for sure

y/n l/n: youre going to lose your privilege to see pickles if you continue to do this christopher

chrismd10: yes ma'am, sorry ma'am

xouserxo: AAAAAAAAA I LOVE YOU TWO SO MUCH SJX

arthurtv: I'd say the sources are correct!

georgeclarkeey: that dog is one sassy little dude. i love him

xeuserxe: AHHHH HES ADORABLE

caitlinfoord: pickles is the best (:

user505: "all hail pickles" we say in unison 🗣🗣🗣

useredup: PICKLEEEEES 👹👹👹👹

y/n l/n: back off, pickles is scared 🤺🤺🤺🤺🤺🤺

theburntchip: what a distinguished fellow

arsenalwfc: were missing the lil man on the pitch

chrismd10: btw i will be stealing him

y/n l/n: cunt

user007: AHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA

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y/n l/n

liked by chrismd10, chloekelly and 137,699 others

y/n l/n: oui oui bonjour 🧸☁️

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COMMENTS;

chrismd10: do you even know what that means?

y/n l/n: En fait, je comprends ce que ça veut dire, espèce d'idiot - TRANSLATION; Actually, I understand what that means, you idiot

chrismd10: hot.

y/n l/n: HAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHA

xouserxo: AHHHHH PARIS 🎀🎀🎀🎀

user111: are we not going to talk about the fifth picture...?

useroo: mmm y/n whos that in the fifth picture? 🤨

y/n l/n: mmm i thinks it's..... nonya business 🤫😍😍😍😍

useroo: 😐😐😐

useredup: @useroo is so done w y/n's shit 💀😭

chloekelly: pretty ♡

y/n l/n: AGHHHHH CHLOE I LOVE YOU DBJXCLUXEFG

user007: y/n youre so real for that xjxnc 😭

user444: paris is really the city of love, right @y/n l/n ... 🤨

y/n l/n: deffinitly!! 🤭🤭🤭🤭

kyracooneyx: happiness is a good luck on you. so is being in love

y/n l/n: off with your head, youve already said to much

userly: BAHAHHAHAHAHAHA

us3r: LMAOOOOOOO KYRA GIVE US MORE INFO PLEASE

kyracooneyx: well you deffinitly know him

y/n l/n: KYRAAAAAAAAAAA

useredup: OHMYGOD I THINK MY SUSPISONS HAVE BEEN CONFIRMED THANK YOU KYRA!!!!

chrismd10: 📸📸

y/n l/n: 💋💋

y/nily: 🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨

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chrismd10

liked by behzingagram, wroetoshaw and 206,554 others

chrismd10: as the missus said, "oui oui bonjour 🧸"

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COMMENTS;

y/n l/n: do YOU know what that means? 😐🤨

chrismd10: oui

theburntchip: smooth fella smooth

calfreezy: nice going mate

behzingagram: happy for you ya twat

tobjizzle: ❤

y/n l/n: ily

chrismd10: ily2

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y/n l/n

liked by chrismd10, zerkaa and 707,633 others

y/n l/n: god its so hard to be in a relationship with such a lovable twat ❤

tagged: @chrismd10

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y/n l/n: love ya @chrismd10

chrismd10: even more than pickles?

y/n l/n: know your fucking limits.

us3r: BAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHA

bambinobecky: 🥳🥳

caitlinfoord: ❣️❣️❣️

laiacodina5: whoooooooo 🌟🌟🌟

katie_mccabe11: happy for you doll xxx

y/n l/n: @useroo so it looks like nonya business was actually mr. chrismd (: sorry for all the caused breakdowns xxx

useroo: fuck me im so happy but also fuck you coudn't you have announced this before all my breakdowns miss y/n

y/n l/n: nope! 😛😝😜🤪

useroo: 😐❤

useredup: AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA

xouserxo: HELL YEAAAAH

arthurtv: mama y papa

y/n l/n: hello child <3!!!

chrismd10: hello.. child.

arthurtv: 😄😁

theburbtchip: about damn time

tobjizzle: soo happy for you guys ❤

y/n l/n: thank you tobi!!! ❣️

user007: WAR IS OVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER

user777: oh.. so thats why you wont take my hand in marrige :( BUT YAY SO HAPPY FOR YOU GUYS

userly: IT FINALLY HAPPENED FUCK YEAAAAS

user444: YIPPIE YIPPIE YIPPIE YIPPIE YIPPIE

user111: MOTHERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

user101: *screams in single*

usermybeloved: BEST COUPLE IN 2024 CONFIRMED

y/nily: ❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

chrismd10: love you too darling ❤

y/n l/n: YAYAYAYAY

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chrismd10

liked by miniminter, arthurnfhill and 1,572,684 others

chrismd10: love you to ya prick

tagged: @y/n l/n

.

COMMENTS;

ksi: congrats bro

chrismd10: thanks ksi

tobjizzle: ❤

theburntchip: as I written before, about damn time

callux: 🎉🎉

wroetoshaw: im suprised ya fucking bagged her mate, bloody hell well done

chrismd10: thanks harry

zerkaa: 💚

arthurtv: my parents are finally together :)

arthurnfhill: im impressed

miniminter: 👏👏👏

behzingagram: how the fuck did you bag her

chrismd10: actually quite easily for your information you fat prick

vikkstagram: 🌟🌟🌟

calfreezy: sap

chrismd10: shut the fuck up ya long dick

calfreezy: midget

georgeclarkeey: sigh, ive lost another boyfriend 😞

y/n l/n: it's okay pookie we'll share ❤

chrismd10: ...i did not consent to this.

us3r: my childhood youtuber getting together with my favourite female footballer was not on my 2024 bingo card

useroo: about fucking time.

s1demenl0ver: 🥳🥳🥳

useredup: congrats guys 👏

user111: ❤

user007: I AM LITERALLY SO HAPPY OHMYGOD

user777: @chrismd10 will you ask y/n if she'll take my hand in marrige 💍🤲

chrismd10: she says no, AGAIN.

useredup: AHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHHA

user444: YASSSSSS

user101: nahh but honestly chris takes really good pictures

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y/n l/n added to their story;

⤷ chrismd10 liked y/n l/n's story! ♡

⤷ chrismd10: I literally posted a cute little photodump of you and you're posting this??? Ya fucking prick

⤷ y/n l/n: l love you too ya twat! Also let me post our child ❤

⤷ chrismd10: yeah yeah whatever. i love you too ya prick ❤

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chrismd10

liked by georgeclarkeey, arthurtv and 876, 543 others

chrismd10: it's possible that she likes her caps more than me..

tagged: @y/n l/n

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chrismd10: just so you all know I am not a sap, I did not know she'd post arthur on her story the moment id post her okay?? fuck off ya twats

behzingagram: sap

chrismd10: shut the fuck up

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y/n l/n added to their story;

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[snootlestheangel]

Hear Me Out

Guys, just, hear me out: YouTubers/Streamers AU for COD. There was a series of posts on @cod-dump 's blog about what games are banned for the boys and I've just been thinking about this but with Ghost, Gaz, Soap, and Alex where one of them is the actual streamer/gamer dude and the others just almost always play with him (maybe Roach if we went on the path that he's not actually mute, just kinda hates talking)

Retired or discharged for whatever reasons, the 141 are actually kinda happy to be living semi-normal lives. Maybe they're not all entirely civilian now, maybe Price has a position that doesn't require him to be on the field but he's still teaching/being a Captain.

But he's constantly telling the boys to find things to do to keep themselves happy. Especially Gaz and Soap, cause the military is kind of all they know, they've never had to be civilians really as adults.

Ghost is transitioning fine, and he's been a huge help for Soap, but Gaz is still kinda struggling. Eventually something happens and Alex is part of his life, but it's still not really what Gaz needs to feel "normal".

So Soap and Alex convince Gaz to start streaming/recording videos of their gaming sessions. It's a slow start, and Gaz is getting frustrated.

Until one time they play something silly but incredibly rage-inducing. It's a trending game because it's designed to pit you against your friends but is still silly nonetheless. There's one clip in particular that starts trending and becomes the reason Gaz's channel starts to take off.

The clip? Gaz yelling at Soap for something and Soap immediately just cursing him out in straight Scots only for Alex, an American, to scream into his mic as loud as humanly possible "WHAT THE FUCK IS A KILOMETER?!?!" after having been dead silent for the last 2 minutes. Why did he scream this? Not because of Soap's Scots, but because he had secretly just won the round after having lost the entire time they'd been playing.

People eat that shit up! Suddenly everyone's like "damn there's this hella attractive dude that records gameplay with his friends and they're all really funny." Everyone falls in love with Gaz's appearance first, but then they actually hear him and his friends interact and it's just trading insults and stupid jokes, acting like there's no one watching and they're suddenly kids again.

It eventually comes out that Gaz and his friends are all veterans, and despite the air around military not being the best, there's no denying that caring for veterans is a must. People slowly start to support Gaz's channel/streams, and before he knows it, he's actually got quite the following. His whole thing is about "wanting to do something to distract himself and others from the shitty aspects of life with a few laughs and some good games"

Eventually they convince Ghost to start gaming with them. It makes Gaz's popularity grow because now there's this really deep accent in the mix that's completely clueless as to what he's doing like 90% of the time (I just have this gut feeling that '22 Ghost is so fucking awful at video games) that they refer to simply as "Ghost". Suddenly, the chaos Gaz and his friends are known for increases tenfold. Ghost is flirting with all of them, Soap is arguing with him over literal couple things that come with living together, and there's a new element of really dark humor that wasn't there before (there was dark humor, just not this dark)

They're playing The Backrooms one time. They're not even in the game yet, just in the lobby. Gaz is laughing at Alex's tag for the game "MYLEG!" which is a reference to that one fish in Spongebob always yelling "my leg!" after an incident. Gaz is laughing too hard to actually explain to his viewers that, yes, Alex is an amputee. Soap starts making fun of him, as usual, and that's when it happens.

Alex: "I'll take my leg off and hit you with it, Soap, I swear to god." Soap: "I forgot you were already missing one for a second there and got real concerned." Alex: "No, Soap, I planned on removing my other leg. The one that's still attached, yeah. Just like a lil *pop noise*, ya know?" Gaz: *wheezing so hard he almost throws up*

Then they're playing this silly monster/cryptid hunter game called "A Day Out" and there's skeletons every now and then on the map. Gaz walks up to one and just starts freaking out, saying Ghost's name over and over.

Ghost, freaked out: What?? Gaz, pointing at the skeleton: Look, it's you! *cackling* Ghost, after a concerning long pause: *quietly* Nah, I'm not gonna say that Alex: SAY IT COWARD Ghost: No, that's my brother *Gaz making the most horrified face as he tries not to laugh* *Alex and Soap are losing their shit* Gaz: NAH THAT'S NOT OKAY

That clip posts and the internet looses it. I see this being the actual first video Ghost is in, so for this to be the first thing the viewers get of him, it's safe to say he's a hit. It's also never explained that Ghost does have a deceased brother, so there's just an acceptance of Ghost's skeleton brother.

There's several times where they've all gotten together and played silly games like Mario Kart when there's a bunch of them. There's the sober one and there's the drunk one, where there's so many different languages being hurled as curses at each other, Gaz gives up on captioning ANY of it.

OOOOooooooooohhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!! WHAT IF! Roach becomes his editor once he gets popular enough so he can spend more time playing games, solo ones when the others are working.

For a while, everyone's going crazy wanting to see what the others all look like, and sometimes (cause we're assuming the world they live in now during all this is a lot better), they're joined by Rudy or Alejandro, or both in one rare instance. Sometimes, for old times's sake, during the drunk gaming sessions, they'll call Laswell only for her to scold them. There are times they'll bully Roach who always, as the editor, changes their words from the insults to compliments. Or he definitely trolls Gaz a lot with some of the editing, and it's all around just a good time. Hence why everyone wants to know what they look like.

Then it's around the holidays after about 2 and a half years of Gaz's channel being as popular as it is. He posts a single picture on his socials with a group of people and the caption: "Love seeing the boys over the holidays."

It's such a nice photo; Alex with an arm wrapped around Gaz's shoulders, Soap and Ghost on his other side with Roach between Soap and Gaz.

And the internet has once again gone crazy. Why? Cause not only are these dudes fucking hilarious, but they're hot and taken.

Except, as they all end up teasing him about, Roach is very much still single XD

I have been watching too much YouTube lately, can y'all tell?? Haha anyways back to my hole I shall crawl

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Tumblr WILL NOT let me post the fic and this ask at the same time and I've tried legit five times. So THANK YOU anon for the request and I'm sorry for the weirdness in uploading. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this!

My Ghost.

Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: You don't know what happened that night. Things were fine, life was good, then your partner is on the news for all sorts of shit you never would've thought him capable of the day prior. He was dead, he was evil, and you were trying to move on. But what's the proper etiquette when the dead show up on your door unannounced?

Tags: No use of Y/N, hurt/comfort, fake death, mentions of drinking, drug use/dealing, grieving, arguing, cursing, flashbacks, brief suggestive scenes, suicidal thoughts.

Other Works in This Series: 'Repentance' (Prequel to 'My Ghost') • 'Lapses' (Sequel to 'My Ghost')

Notes: The way I've been trying to upload this for two hours. Oh my fucking God. Anyways, everyone say thank you to anon for getting me to write something that doesn't make God cry.

-¤°》◇《°¤-

I'm not hard to please, but I'm not desperate despite what the rumors may say.

People enjoy gossip. People who don't know fuck all about you. And my standards are fine. Were fine. And I don't mean standards such as 'buys me flowers everyday' or 'doesn't deal coke.' I mean standards such as 'is a decent fucking person.'

"That's what I thought you were up until all of this fucking... disappearing for months!" I scream, anger fueling me. I don't let the other emotions win out, don't let them have a say. Because if I do, I'll be too conflicted and overwhelmed and then I'm gonna cry, and that's not fair.

People had warned me he was trouble. Terms such as 'wannabe cowboy,' 'rebel without a cause' were tossed around in warning. But to me, he was just Billy.

Then he was dead.

Now, he was here. He showed up at my door nine months after leaving me with a small little keychain on the kitchen table and a soft kiss on my forehead, saying he had some plans for that evening. But he'll be back soon.

Then he was on the news. And a gas station blew up. Gangs, stolen vehicles. He was probably dead. Things would be easier if he was dead.

Fine. Maybe I initially ignored warning signs. Maybe I was distracted by his handsome side profile, too busy admiring his nose to notice the occasions it was dusted with the trace of a fine powder. Maybe his hands were too beautiful for me to realize they were slipping money to men in dark jackets when we went out to the rougher parts of town. But he was mine and I was his, and overall he was a good person.

He was alive. He was alive and I was mad because if he was dead then at least it would be valid that for nine months I have had to deal with the accusatory stares of our neighbors assuming I knew, the pity from my loved ones, and the betrayel that kept me awake at night. It would mean he hadn't left me to deal with his repercussions, that maybe there was a valid excuse. An undiagnosed brain tumor that finally gave way to insanity, a gun to his head. Something that was not the worst case scenario of just... being an awful person. I could let his things rest around the house undisturbed, hiding from the world and waiting to find the courage to join him one day and living in denial in the meantime. What the fuck was all of this?

"I couldn't tell you," he keeps saying. "It was better if you knew nothing until I was sure I could come get you."

"Why didn't you just take me with you from the start?" I ask. I've been pacing the floor for the past twenty minutes ever since he showed up. It was better than throwing every breakable object in the cheap, worn down shack of a house at him, which was my second instinct. My first was to pull him into my arms, draw the curtains shut and hide him away so that he'll never leave again. Like an idiot.

He laughs bitterly. "You would not be asking that if you knew what the fuck I went through," he says. His words sound like they should be angry, but there's this lightness to them like he can't let himself think too much about it. It just makes me angrier.

"Don't fucking laugh!" I snap. "Do you think any of this is funny?"

"I think you're funny when you're mad," he deflects, smiling. "You got this whole routine. Pacing, nose twitching. I like the Shirley Temple stomps, like you're a kid."

I groan loudly, the noise almost sounding like a low scream in my throat.

"You owed money to fucking- who?" I yell.

"The details don't matter-"

"When I have been grieving your death for nine months, they fucking matter!" I snap. His brows furrow, his hands mid air as if to say 'the fuck did I do?'

"You know me, okay? I don't get caught," he says as though it were obvious.

"I know fucking nothing!" I practically scream.

When we met he was just a guy at a bar, handsome, wearing that same ridiculous jacket that I couldn't help but stroke the white fluff on, tequila running through my veins.

"Can I help you?" He asked, smirking.

"Just wanted to see what it felt like," I said.

"Wanna feel something else?" He asked, his chin resting on his head.

"Oh, fucking gross. Fuck o-"

"I was talking about this," he said, whipping out his keys to show off an odd, weirdly shaped keychain with short, stiff fuzz. "Don't call me a pervert just cause you're one."

He was smiling. It was an easy smile. Careless, happy with life. I loved that smile. It meant things were always alright as long as he was smiling.

He was smiling on the photo they used for the manhunt.

We'd danced the whole night. He didn't know hardly any of the songs, causing him to be off beat. I was too drunk to keep time, so I stepped on his leather boots enough times there was a visible scuff on the top of one by the end of the night. I always felt bad, offering to replace or help pay to fix it. He wouldn't let me.

"They're a keepsake," he'd insist. "A living memory." He wore them everyday.

He's wearing sneakers, today.

At the end of the night, I stumbled out of the bar with a note in my coat pocket. It took two weeks for me to wear that coat again, and when I found the slip I'd almost thrown it away, assuming it was something dumb. But when I saw the worst handwriting in the world displaying a number belonging to someone named 'Keychain Guy,' I almost couldn't wait to call.

"Bullshit," Billy snaps. "You know me better than anyone."

"Don't say that," I say, putting a hand out protectively to keep him away. "That's exactly why everyone thinks I was just fine with that whole- fucked up thing!"

A gas station burned. A stolen vehicle. People were dead. People were dead.

Billy was presumed dead.

There was no funeral. He had no family, and none of mine wanted to put money into something that would be protested by the whole town anyways. No body to bury, nothing to do but gather up his things and smoke what remained in his stash until people came to nurse me back to life. By that point there wasn't even relief in drugs. The taste simply reminded me of better times cooking in the kitchen as we blew the smoke into each others faces, or worse. Better. Whatever.

I never questioned when Billy went out of town. I knew his work had details I didn't want nor need to know. Money was tight. But Billy always came home with little things whenever he went on unexpected trips. Knick knacks, snacks, some item I'd seen at the store and picked up to make a comment about. Had he been particularly forthcoming about his dealing when we started dating? No. He said he worked for a local small business, which technically isn't untrue. But about six months in, he was the one who approached me and sat me down at the small, rickty round table to tell me the truth. And that's what mattered to me. The economy is shit and it's not like it was meth, so who am I to judge?

About a year into it, I was begging for him to do something else.

"I don't like you disappearing," I told him. "I'm scared one day you're gonna piss someone off and that'll be the end. Then what am I gonna do?"

"Then you're gonna make sure they don't fuck up my face during the embalming process for the funeral," Billy said around his hand rolled cigarette. I whip the small dish towel at him, making him laugh and protect his small ashtray that I made him for Christmas the year prior. It was shitty, uneven, and I'm 99% sure a fire hazard. But he wouldn't use any other ones unless I was the one who bought them for him, and even then he favored this one. 'When this place goes up in flames,' I thought, 'I'll regret that gift.'

I'd kept it by the kitchen window every day since he'd died. "Died." It was his spot.

He moves to sit there now, looking in his pockets for the small box of prerolled cigarettes.

"People know you weren't involved," he says dismissively.

"Your friends know. What about the old ladies at church? The checkout clerks at the store? How about the fucking mailman?" I shout, convinced I'm still talking to the dead. "You think they know the ins and outs of the local psychos support group?" I ask, gesturing and stepping closer.

I was the local outcast now. Not to be trusted, not worth kindness. Shame was my title, and when Billy appeared on my doorstep at an hour where only I was awake I was sure I'd caught the same awful disease that must have been what sent him spiraling that winter day. It wasn't until he pushed the door open fully, taking me into his arms and pressing a warm kiss to my lips that I knew he was real. It was a feeling I was in the early stages of forgetting, blurry and cold. But here he was, the stubble on his chin a bit longer and his ears missing the small hoops that had glittered in the sunlight when he walked out the door.

Then I'd pushed him away. And the fight began.

"I'm not a fucking psycho," he argues. His hands pat around his outfit, searching. "You got a lighter?"

"Fuck off." I kept his favorite in my left pocket. I had to be careful what things of his I wore or kept on my person. People close to me knew I would have never condoned his actions, but even they had glared at me in the early wake of Billy's death when I dared to wear one of his shirts out of the house, or more commonly one of his thick leather jackets. But a lighter can be hidden, and unless you had borrowed it you wouldn't know it had specifically been his. So I kept it with me all the time, just feeling it next to my skin with the only barrier being the fabric of my pocket. Without a thought, I cover the small item as though he can see right through me. Picking up on the hint, he's rises from the table and begins walking over to me.

"Don't be a dick, just let me borrow it," he says, holding out his hand.

"Fuck off," I snap.

"You've said that. I just need it for two seconds," he says as his hands begin to gently grab at me, one on my shoulder and the other dipping into my pocket.

"Get the fuck off of me!" I yell, slapping at him.

"Just let me have-"

He cuts himself off as he pulls out the lighter from my pocket, his thumb grazing over the printed picture. The Statue of David. He'd bought because it made us laugh. One side was the regular statue, the other a close up of its small genitals with cursive writing underneath spelling the art piece's name.

"Oh," Billy says quietly.

We stand for a moment, silent. He doesn't seem sure what to do. My lungs burn with unheaved sobs. I fucking hate this.

"You were gonna come back," I finally say quietly. I hate how my voice sounds when I'm upset. I hate that I'm wearing his dogtag, an item he'd bought at a World War II museum in middle school that he gave me for our first Christmas because we were both too broke to actually buy each other anything, hence the poorly made ashtray. I hate that when I sleep at night it's in his clothes that I rarely wash because the idea of losing his smell makes me want to scream. I hate that his scent is different from the bottle of cologne he kept next to my makeup, one time spilling all over the entire bathroom counter because we'd gotten too wrapped up in each other, dragging our nails down each others backs and watching ourselves in the mirror until one wrong move of my hand revealed he'd been a bit too careless about screwing the lid back on earlier in the day. I'd always warned him about that.

I'd been in the bathroom putting on my permanently scented blush when I got the text.

"I was going to," he said softly. "Then I couldn't."

"So what?" I say, not daring to turn and face him, choosing instead to stare at where the cheap, old wood paneling of the wall meets the shaggy, stained carpet that you have to wear shoes on due to the staples that have begun sticking out of it. "You just propose to someone and then pretend to die?"

Valentines Day was an awfully cheesy day to do it. So it's a good thing it was a technicality.

The day had been lovely. Billy had saved up a little to take me to a local hibachi place, telling me to wear my best outfit and jewelry. It was slightly overkill, but it's the small things in life, isn't it?

We'd come home with a bottle of wine, a low budget movie to ignore and hands searching desperately for each other.

"I love you," he'd said between pants. "You're mine."

"Buy a ring," I'd dared. Our minds were buzzed, the bottle half empty and our clothes thrown away without care. Took me weeks to find his both of his socks.

I hadn't meant for him to take it seriously. But I guess he decided it was time.

Two days later I thought it was odd when he walked into the house with my favorite lunch. It wasn't expensive really, we just usually got it for special occasions or days that had been mentally harder for me. And things were normal that day. I was getting ready for my shift, running around like I always do trying to make sure I've got everything.

"Your coffee's in the cup, will you just sit down?" He laughed, watching me. I quickly collected the take out box, sipping my coffee and wincing over its temperature.

"Fuck, that burns," I cursed. He wrapped his arms around me, trying to get me to sit at the table. "Baby, I can't," I protested softly, but I was laughing. He was peppering me in kisses, giving me those big puppy dog eyes everyone knew were my weakness. He wanted for nothing so long as he looked at me just like that.

"Just this once," he asked, pressing a kiss to my cheek. I couldn't help the blush and giggle that rose from me, but I also couldn't be late.

"I'll make up for it," I promised, slipping away and running into the bedroom to get my shoes. When I ran back in, pulling them on and coming to kiss him goodbye, I nearly fell over when I saw him on one knee, smiling and looking at me like 'I told you so.'

I don't like how itchy the ring feels on my middle finger as I twirl it in thought.

"You don't know what happened," he pleaded, his hands still on me. "If you would just listen to me-"

"The news gave a pretty good description, William. I don't think there's missing pieces in my head, unlike you," I say coldly, detaching from myself so to not have to deal with my emotions. This makes him stiffen, pulling away and resuming his place at the kitchen table, lighting his cigarette and placing the ashtray in front of him like nothing has changed when everything has.

It feels like I'm out of time. Like I've been shoved into a picture of what my life looked like before. Except the house was never this clean, clothes always scattered about. Not just in a fit of passion, we just had bad habits when it came to picking up. Billy would always say the chairs are more decorations then they are seats, anyways. "Why would you use those when you have such a nice seat here?" He'd ask, wiggling his hips and placing his hands behind his head, making me laugh.

Billy never looked so well put together in the house, usually in a wife beater and his hair framing his face. He'd always joked he looked like a dirty hippie around me, and I'd always show him how much I liked that. Not that he looked fantastic now. When we went out he was known for putting in effort. He always had more hair products than me, which I found funny. Though he refused makeup. Once I'd managed to talk him into eyeliner. 'Guyliner' I'd teased. He liked it, but said it should stay between us with a wink before asking where to get dinner. Now he sits before me in clothes obviously stolen to help him look unremarkable, his hair shaggy and uncut, so different from the man I loved.

"Who are you?" I asked him. That man didn't shrink away from accountability.

He sighed, smoke swirling around him as he wipes his face with his hand.

"I don't know. Can't tell if I'm better or worse, to be honest," he admits softly. His eyes look haunted, heavy bags underneath. It's the way his shoulders sag as though his will to go on is slowly draining from him in this very moment that makes me want to break now. Like whatever reason he had for still going was fruitless.

I didn't like the way we mirrored each other like this.

I slowly scuff my feet towards him, tapping my fingers against the back of the wooden chair before pulling it out to sit across from him. It's a start.

"So if you tell me," I say slowly. "Am I going to wish you were dead?"

He doesn't look at me. "I don't know."

Great.

The night is long. Morning comes without an invitation, the blue sky beginning to glow through the shitty blinders I always told Billy we should replace one day. I understand less than when we started, we've both cried more than once, and between our fingers is cigarette stubs and the feeling of each others skin, hands laced together as though another click of an old remote to an outdated TV with batteries you had to rub against your shirt to make work would reveal the smouldering remains of a gas station, displaying the estimated body count and deeming one of us as a devil of the worst kind, ripping us apart.

"Jesus," I say when it's over.

"Yeah," he says. "So, needless to say, my anxiety is shit now."

It isn't funny. It's a tragic statement. But when we both glance into the others eyes, it's his small little smirk that makes me laugh like I haven't since my mother sent me the local news report with his picture covering the front page. The same one that shows everything is still okay.

"I'm sorry," I say. Then the laughing turns into sobbing, and then I can't breathe. And I really am sorry.

I'm sorry I couldn't help him. I'm sorry he went out on a romantic whim and borrowed money he shouldn't have for the ring I was too ashamed to wear on the proper finger. I'm sorry he couldn't come back for me. And I'm sorry for hating him when he showed up unannounced at my door.

"Hey," he says gently, standing and crossing to me, removing his jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders to comfort me. It's unfamiliar, evidence of a life he wouldn't have led if he had just stayed by me and it upsets me, but his lips against my wet cheeks ground me, familiar and soothing me, coaxing me into wrapping my arms around him, clawing my trembling fingers through his hair. Still soft. Still combed.

"You can't stay here," I choke out.

"I know," he says quietly. There's nothing for a long time, our bodies shaking as we cling to each other. In our arms are the unspoken months of grief. Of his longing for our home, of my insanity. Death looms over the furniture, light hidden away lest it take away my sacred treasures I'd used to keep his spirit close to me.

"I can't lose you again," I say.

"I know," he says, smelling my hair and placing a soft kiss on top of my head. "But I can't promise stability if you follow me."

My brows furrow, my mind racing in confusion, my hopes rising. Follow?

"I know a guy," he says quickly, his arms tighter as if scared I'll turn away. "Says he can get me a new identity and a one way ticket to somewhere. I don't know where yet, but it's worth a try."

My fingers trace his back, swirling invisible patterns over his shirt. He'd always liked that after a rough day. I can feel the tension begin to slowly fall away from him at the contact, his breathing growing deeper and more steady. "And you want me to come?"

"Need," he corrects. "I don't regret leaving you, but I can't stay away. Even if it's more kind to let you mourn and find a better life."

A new life. A new identity. New name, new everything.

Maybe I am insane. Maybe this exactly the kind of mental break Billy had that day. Maybe I was doomed to follow his spirit no matter what. Maybe this is a second chance. Maybe God had granted me a mercy I'll never be able to repay, no matter how many night I spend in worship at a church or between this man's legs. Maybe I'd spend every day looking over my shoulder, paranoid and eventually turning cruel to strangers so to keep this one person everyone told me to let go of from the very beginning.

But the same Billy.

"Can he do a marriage license?" I ask after a long silence. I can hear him laugh, pulling away to look at me.

"That eager?" He asks softly, his eyes gentle, thumb stroking my cheek. I lean into his touch, softly placing a kiss on his palm.

▪︎》◇《▪︎

"Well," I say, "I already have the ring."

Masterlist

As cute as this was, please have better standards than the Reader I wrote in this fic. No man is worth that. I am DEADASS. Anyways, love y'all <3

[onpointedfeetandbrokendreams]

Day 2 - Painland Week

Day 2 of Painland Week 2024: August 5th - August 11th by @painlandweek

Prompt: Myths / Legends

Tags:  Post-canon, Case-fic

TW: None

Edwin stopped writing mid-word - which, in hindsight, should have been the first evidence that something was wrong, if Charles hadn’t been distracted - and he asked:

“Sorry, wait a tick, you said you are trying to retrieve a lost sword from a lake, and the sword’s name is?” 

“Excalibur, yes,” finished the client.

Edwin tapped the pen over his notebook twice, not even pretending to go back to taking notes - second evidence - and threw the universal ‘closet, now’ look at Charles. For his part, Charles had been listening to the conversation like it was something happening inside a bubble, or on the television, something he wasn’t a part of. His brain had been stuck on a very different train of thought ever since the client entered their office, because the first thing Charles’ mind supplied him with was ‘wow, he’s hot,’ immediately followed by ‘uh, that’s new, since when do I find random boys hot’ and ‘wait, does that mean I can finally be not straight and return Edwin’s feelings?’ - all in all, very confusing thoughts to have in the middle of a potential case.

He did follow Edwin to the closet, though, because it was muscle memory to follow Edwin anywhere without question.

“So what do you think?” Edwin asked, “a curse?”

“It could be, if the missing sword is cursed that would explain why he can’t find it in the lake,” Charles replied, trying to cut through the haze enough to form a sensible thought.

Edwin raised his eyebrows in confusion. It was unusual for them to not be on the same wavelength, they rarely needed to explain themselves further during conversations on almost any topic. It made Charles feel like he had failed some kind of test. “Mr. Rowland, the reading assignments are mandatory to every student.”

“What are you talking about, Charles? There is no sword.”

‘What?’ Charles didn’t say, not eager to repeat the experience. 

Edwin apparently could see right through his desperation, because he sighed with that ever-present hint of fondness and explained:

“This man thinks he is Arthur Pendragon, the once and future King of Britain, on a quest to find his missing sword Excalibur. There is absolutely no way that it is true, hence the hypothesis that he might be cursed. It is not unheard of for ghosts to develop mental illnesses, but it usually involves more rage and screaming, thinking you are the long lost King of Britain seems too specific for that.”

Taking a breath he didn’t really need, Charles focused back to the present to catch up with Edwin’s reasoning. “I think we should play along, if he has been cursed, there has to be a reason, maybe he will lead us to the artefact, or the person who cast the spell on him.”

“That is a brilliant idea, Charles,” Edwin agreed with a smile, more to tell him that they were back on the same track than anything. It sent that shiver up his spine that happened every time Edwin looked proud of him.

“We have decided to take your case, sir Pendragon,” Edwin declared as they returned to the office.

“Thank you, my kind subjects,” Arthur replied, and Charles, who was now in control of his mental faculties, had to fight to suppress a snort. He pushed all the ‘men are hot’ thoughts in one of those carefully locked boxes he had started collecting after Port Townsend to consider at a later date, or maybe never.

--

The hike to the lake where the magic sword was supposed to be was incredibly nice.

“We should do this more often, mate. I mean, mirror travel is cool and all, but look at the view!” He pointed to the mountains in the distance, the clear sky, and he felt excited like that one time he went camping with his friends when he was fifteen - before those same “friends” ended up murdering him.

Edwin put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “That is a good idea, perhaps we could take a small vacation after this case is closed.”

It was nice to see Edwin like that, more open, more relaxed. Not having to fear Death separating them, or Hell coming back to take him had done wonders in improving his well-being, which made a lot of sense if Charles was honest. Now that he had seen Hell himself, he had no idea how Edwin had kept it together as well as he did for over thirty years after he escaped.

“I will have you two executed if you do not find my sword right now,” the client declared.

Charles was quick to bow, not trusting Edwin’s bedside manners enough. “We are sorry, sire, we promise we are doing everything we can.”

--

They looked everywhere on the lake and around it, Edwin even tried different spells to reveal hidden magic, but they found nothing. 

“There must be something we are missing, he does not have the object binding the curse on his person, and I can’t find anything of worth in this place,” Edwin said, moving a bit further from where Arthur was looking longingly at the middle of the lake.

“You know that sentence you wanted to write on the wall of the office? ‘When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth’, maybe he really is what he says.”

Edwin looked a very balanced mix between flustered and impressed. “While I appreciate you remembering my favourite quote, I think if King Arthur existed, we would have heard about it before.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Charles conceded.

While they were going over their notes again, trying to notice something they might have overlooked, or a different spell they could use, an eerie figure appeared next to their client. It was a very pale man, all dressed in black.

The next moment, they were sprinting towards him at full speed.

“Who are you?” asked Edwin, while Charles retrieved his brand new cricket bat from the pocket universe he carried in his backpack.

The man, or being, or whatever he was, smirked, which was an odder sight than if he had manifested eyes all over his body, or a flaming wall behind him. “You must be the ghost detectives my sister is so fond of.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I am Dream of the Endless, I apologise for the inconvenience my escapee might have caused you,” he continued, ignoring Edwin’s disbelief.

“Dream of the Endless,” Charles repeated under his breath, trying to make sense of the words. “So your sister, who is fond of us is…”

“Death,” he said, matter-of-factly. “She wishes you would stay and say hi, sometimes. For now, I thank you for your service.”

He turned to keep talking to Arthur then, and after a while the two of them disappeared in a whirlwind of sand, leaving Charles and Edwin to gape at the empty space where they had been. 

“Well that was an experience,” said Charles. “So he was, what? A dream?”

“What a thought, to stop and say hi to Death,” Edwin exhaled at the same time. He was smiling his relaxed smile again, and Charles found his eyes stuck on the curve of his lips, the hint of tongue and teeth peeking from them.

“So, you fancied the once and future king?” the lips moved to form the words, before going back to that beautiful smile. 

Only when the meaning registered, Charles blinked. “What? No, of course, I-” he started, before remembering that they did promise each other no more lies, “maybe a little. Didn’t you? He looked like, I don’t know, the perfect example of man, the one you would expect to see on an advertisement for the entire species?”

Edwin pursed his lips, in that expression he made when he was trying not to laugh. “I can admit that he was objectively good looking, but, you know, blond hair and blue eyes is not really my type.”

He said it in his prim tone, the same way he would say ‘pass me that green book on supernatural diseases’, but there was no mistaking the flirtatious glint in his eyes.

Charles stopped. For a moment, it almost seemed like Edwin knew something that he didn’t even fully know himself, something carefully hidden in one of those boxes “to consider at a later date or maybe never” that he had been collecting. But flirting was like a second nature to him, so he couldn’t help but replying:

“Yeah, and what is your type?”

“Let me see,” Edwin said, slowly, carefully, stepping closer with every word. “Tall, athletic, big dark eyes, unruly hair,” he was right in front of him now, “likes to throw himself into danger to protect others, what else? Insanely clever and perceptive. Shall I continue?”

Charles took a deep breath, his eyes were fixed on the small space between them. “I think I should tell you something.”

If it was on anyone else, the fake surprised expression would have fooled him, but he knew Edwin’s eyes and smiles better than his own. He had to struggle to remain serious, even if he appreciated it for what it was: a way to give him the time to set the pace of the conversation and to take the lead.

“I have never allowed myself to think about it before, you know, with my dad being the way he was, but lately I have been noticing that I am attracted to guys as well. At first it was only one specific guy, but-” he stopped, cringing at the way it sounded, “What I mean is, I didn’t say anything because it was something too important, I had to be sure, and it’s easier to admit you can like someone when you have nothing to lose from it.”

The flirty smile turned into a soft one as Edwin said:

“You have every right to take your time and experiment, you don’t have to say anything, I apologise if-”

Charles stopped him very effectively by cupping his face with his hands. “I don’t want to experiment with anyone else, I think I’ve locked up these feelings for long enough.”

Edwin’s eyes widened, he looked like every ounce of confidence he had mustered up until then had left his body. “As much as I pride myself in my detective abilities, I need you to please say it out loud at least once. It’s been quite difficult for me to believe it, even when you were not at all subtle.”

“I like you,” Charles said immediately, wanting to erase the insecurity from his face. “I haven’t stopped thinking about your confession and what it could mean for our future, and I think I am finally ready to take you out on an official date, if you still want that.”

It was Edwin who leaned in first after that, but like it happened many other times, they met in the middle, instantly on the same wavelength again.

Distantly, almost completely hidden behind the all-encompassing sensation of Edwin holding him and their lips pressed together, Charles thought about how absurd it was that he had to thank the fucking King of Britain for finally managing to have this conversation. Edwin would tease him for all eternity.

[genevievefangirl]

Gen's Top 100 DBDA Fics - PART 4

For all caveats/rules/backstory, please read the Master Post

Halcyon Days By: cordelianoir @cordelia-noir Rating: T Tags: AU - Modern Setting, AU - High School, AU - Heartstopper, Protective Charles, Protective Edwin Payne Summary: There were a lot of reasons why Charles Rowland had changed schools. His suffering grades, constant reprimands over being out of dress code and the school’s growing suspicions about his home life were only some of the reasons why Charles’ mother enrolled him in boarding school for sixth form. There was really only one problem… well two problems, maybe three. ------------ When Cricket-star Charles transfers to St. Hilarion's, he urgently needs a Latin tutor. Enter Edwin Payne, a language genius but not very popular. As the two become friends, the past rears its head in ugly ways. Can the two navigate such a new, odd-couple friendship in the face of their pasts? And what happens if that friendship starts to blossom into more? My Notes: The most adorable (yet sometimes dark) boarding school AU there is! I think I speak for a lot of us in the fandom when I say this fic warms my heart. I'm not usually a fluff person, but this fic balences the fluff with the hurt very well. I highly recommend if you haven't read it already

half of my soul, as the poets say By: thegirlofthorns @edwinspaynes Rating: T Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, gravestones Summary: Edwin existed, just as Charles had. Charles, who occupied a space in loving memory. A much-deserved space – Edwin would have wanted it no other way – but the core of him wanted to scream that he had been here, too. He never would be again, but he had lived, and he had breathed and laughed and moved with too much frippery and frill to continue on breathing, and he had been a whole person, once. And it had not mattered. So looked at CHARLES ROWLAND through tears, allowed himself to. Even Charles's hammer on metal on stone was not enough to dull the pain, but it was enough to remind him that he was still here, even if he was no longer living. It was an awful sound, a jarring sound, and tears shone in Charles’s eyes as he focused intently on carving out the A in his surname, but it was something. They were there, together, and they were feeling. - Or, Charles finds Edwin's unmarked grave and will, in the lightest of terms, not be having it. My Notes: I love Charles being angry at the world for how Edwin died and how little anyone cared about him. This fic expands on that and the epithet that Charles puts on Edwin's gravestone is perfection.

head in the clouds but my gravity's centered By: shadowquill17 @shadowquill17 Rating: T Tags: Feelings Realization, Love Confessions, Protective Charles Rowland Summary: Charles touched Edwin’s face when they were in Hell, and it made them both feel better. So of course he keeps doing it. And of course it escalates. My Notes: Who doesn't love some intimate face touching from their best mate? I think this is a great tactic to use to pull Edwin out of his own head lol

Heaven To No One Else But Me By: coloursflyaway @coloursflyaway Rating: T Tags: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Feelings Realization Summary: We would like to offer you a gift, Edwin Payne, the entity says, and holds out its hand; Charles has to force himself to stay put and not step between it and Edwin, because it feels like danger, even if it shouldn’t. The entity wouldn’t hurt Edwin, he tells himself, and he knows it’s true, it’s just that it is so powerful that even the slightest touch is terrifying and Charles is terrified about losing Edwin all the time anyway. “Why me?”, Edwin asks, head raised high and the entity’s light reflecting off his skin in a way that makes it look like porcelain, fragile and translucent and beautiful, “Why not Charles?” There is nothing we could offer Charles Rowland to take his pain away, the entity says and its voice rings out in Charles’ head. But you, we could erase yours. If you wish us to. Edwin gets the opportunity to go back in time and change his life so he will never have to go to Hell, but price of it is losing Charles; Charles can only stand next to him and wait for his decision. My Notes: Edwin sees flashes of the life he could have while Charles just stands by thinking Edwin is going to leave him. It is so painful, but also so good.

hell or high water - Series By: oddessea @oddessea Rating: T Tags: AU - Different First Meeting, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Charles Rowland, Protective Edwin Payne Summary: Together - After decades of searching for a way out of Hell between being eaten by a large spider made of baby dolls, Edwin Payne is ready to try anything. When he finds a torture chamber in an out-of-the way part of the Doll House, he meets a boy his age named Charles Rowland. But, more importantly, he realizes that he might not be the only one who doesn't belong in Hell, and that, maybe, escaping is easier when you aren't alone. Feel - Every good detective agency needs an office, and every good detective needs a break. After escaping from Hell, Edwin and Charles want nothing more than to have a nice, long rest. Charles worries that something irreparable has been done to him by his time in Hell, but he can't worry about that now. The Dead Boy Detectives have their first case, and if they solve it, they may just earn their very own office and, hopefully, somewhere safe for them to land. My Notes: The boys meeting in Hell greatly shifts their bond and dynamic in this fic and I LOVE IT! They are so attached to each other and I can't! Like you think they are codependent in canon? Read this!

holding on to patience (like a sunrise) By: toomoon (jjjat3am) @toomoonfic Rating: T Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Touch-Starved, Getting Together Summary: In the aftermath of their appointment to the Lost and Found Department, Charles and Edwin's hug lingers. or, 5 times Charles touched Edwin, and one time Edwin touched him first. My Note: We can all agree that hug in ep 8 was great right? Well here's a fic expanding on their various touches after that!

I dont think I could stand to be (Where You Dont See Me) By: BadBoyDeanAsf @thepopsicle Rating: T Tags: Protective Charles Rowland, Depression, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Trauma, PTSD Summary: So Charles decides then and there with his eyes boring into the image of a woman who couldn’t have possibly been half as lucky as them that he would confess to Edwin. He wasn’t sure when or even how but he knows without a doubt that his partner deserved to know he was loved, that his feelings weren’t unrequited. - Six months after the events of S1 canon, the boys are trying to return to normal in London and deal with their own struggles. Edwin is fighting the grief of losing Niko and Charles struggles between worrying for Edwin and attempting to unpack his feelings. My Note: Charles worries so much about Edwin in this one that it makes my heart hurt. He just wants Edwin to be well again and takes him to see some art to try and make him feel better and it turns into some deep thoughts.

I Turned Back One Last Time (just to prove you were there) By: isnt_that_wizard @skateboardtotheheart Rating: T Tags: AU - Canon Divergence, Protective Charles Rowland, Touching, Touch Starved, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Angst Summary: Since they'd fallen out of hell, the Night Nurse slamming the door on the awful baby doll demon behind them, Charles had been itching to touch Edwin. And it wasn't like his usual touch-oriented personality just wishing to have some sort of contact. He could control that easily enough after all this time. No, this was something different. This felt like a desperation. A need to be in Edwin's personal space, to keep his hands on him. He wanted to wrap his best friend in a hug and never let go, he wanted to sit as close as possible as they heard a new case. He wanted to take Niko’s place as she grabbed Edwin's hand to drag him to watch another one of her shows. He wanted to tuck Edwin against him as they sat on the couch. He would wrap an arm around Crystal and wish it was Edwin, who was merely across the room. --- After Hell, Charles is terrified of letting Edwin out of his reach for fear that he might get taken away again. He is, of course, being very subtle in his attempts to keep Edwin close. or a series of moments when charles can't stop touching edwin to remind himself that he's real and safe, until it all finally catches up to him and he snaps My Note: Charles is freaking out in this and the tension is palatable. In particular the end of chapter 2 into the beginning of chapter 3 gives me such strong emotions. I have reread this one so many times

i’d be the choiceless hope in grief [that drove him underground] By: Laney_Rockin @laney-rockin Rating: T Tags: Hurt No Comfort, Hell, Unhappy Ending, Angst, Orpheus and Eurydice, Love Confessions, Time Loop Summary: Charles had a bad feeling that when Edwin stopped running up those spiral stairs the first time something terrible would occur. An awful gnawing feeling deep within that he chalked up to a ghostly intuition. If he was alive he'd think it was a stomachache, almost on the edge of making him sick. He hated when he was right. ---- Or: Charles becomes much more like Orpheus than he'd like. Edwin doesn't blame him for it. He doesn't think he ever could. My Notes: We love Hell time loops! But also you want sad? Here you go. This line in particular sticks with me, I love it so much. (spoilers ahead!) - "I said the ending was tragic, not that the love Orpheus and Eurydice had for each other was. In fact, it was perhaps the greatest part of the story. Eurydice holds no ill will towards her husband even as she dies a second time. Knowing and comforted in the fact that she was utterly adored by him."

If I could hold you for a minute By: HistoriaGloria @historia-gloria Rating: G Tags: Case Fic, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Protective Edwin Payne Summary: "For as vicious as it can be for ghosts, iron is not as common as you would think. It is rare, in Edwin’s experience, that the supernatural forces they are dealing with actually know that iron hurts as much as it does. Rare, but not rare enough." Charles is hurt on a case, leaving Edwin and Crystal to pick up the pieces. My Notes: The fight scene in this fic really stands out, it is super well done. And Crystal gets to help the boys!

[siconetribal]

Put it on My Tab 13

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!reader

Tag: @vbecker10 @wordsfromshona @harlequin-hangout @harpy-space @tild3ath @gone-batty-fics @princessbl0ss0m @dakotali @antiquecultist

Warning: Mild swearing, Dick being Dick, Y/N will never have another dull evening ever again

Author Note:

As always, a huge thank you and shout out to @harlequin-hangout for the amazing banners you made for me.

If you’re new to the story, please check out the master post for the rest of the chapters or find chapter one here.

Y/N cautiously sat in the chair he motioned towards, keeping her hands flat on her lap and back pin straight. Though the detective showed a friendly and possibly flirtatious disposition, there was something about him that had her on high alert. She was not sure if this was some facade of his and in actuality he was some sort of brute, but there was something hidden. Something that made her gut scream that there was something dangerous about him and she needed to take caution. Silence filled the little office, her palms growing sweaty as she pressed her back into the chair. 

Am I supposed to speak? Is he going to speak? He didn’t really ask me a question, or was I supposed to confirm that’s my name? I have a name tag though. What am I supposed to do?! The panic started to settle in with each passing second as she internally struggled in figuring out if this was some sort of tactic or did she miss something. 

Dick quietly watched Y/N, impressed by her natural instinct to stay alert with him. There was no reason for him to suspect that she knew of his nightly profession, so he took the time to carefully observe her. Her gaze shifted between him and a spot on the floor as a slight crease began to form between her brows. She was thinking of something and he really wanted to know what it was.

“You can relax, you’re not in any trouble. Well, so long as there's no footage of you breaking the glass anyway.” He chuckled.

“I definitely did not do that!” She quickly responded and leaned forward.

“I believe you. Your boss wouldn’t just throw the names of two vigilantes into the ring if you're the one at fault. So, just take a deep breath and relax. This is just a small chat to get some facts for now.” He chuckles.

“Yes Detective Richard Grayson,” she nodded her head.

“Just call me Detective Dick or Detective Grayson.”

“Right, ok,” she nodded her head. “So, do I just start talking? Or do you ask questions?”

“I’ll ask the necessary questions for now.” He pulled out a small top spiral notepad and pen, the sight of which made the corners of her lips quirk up. It was a bit old-fashioned and stereotypical, but it was comforting because it was expected. Had he pulled out a tablet, she might have been more on edge. “So, your name is Y/N, correct? That's a pretty name.”

Her confirming answer was cut short like the screech of a record needle across a vinyl disk. What had he just said? He complimented my name the same way Nightwing did! Am I in trouble? Does he know the Bat group? Sugar and spice, what do I do? Is this a warning to keep silent or vague? Or does he actually think it’s pretty? Why would he just say that though? 

“Did I pronounce it wrong?” He frowned, snapping her out of her second spiral of thoughts. 

“Huh? Oh, sorry, no! It’s just, you’re the second person to say that to me. It’s not something I commonly hear.”

“Really? That's a shame.”

“Uhm, right, anyway, yes, that’s my name.”

“Why were you here on the night in question?”

“I was working.”

“Were there any customers in the shop?”

“No.”

“Were you in the front when the incident occured?”

“Yes.”

“Briefly describe to me what happened.”

“I was standing at the counter when I heard and felt glass go flying everywhere. I ducked for cover and only got up when I heard a voice. I saw Nightwing and Red Robin. I gave them drinks and they left.” Was that vague enough? What do I do if they start digging into why I didn’t talk about the guy they took down? What if Nightwing and Red Robin found out I said something though? Do I hide for the vigilantes and potential get time for lying to an officer or do I risk becoming the next target to be silenced?!

“That’s all?”

“Basically,” she shrugged. “Uhm, if you want to know what they were doing, I’mma bet they were doing whatever it is that vigilantes usually do? Which…I’m sure you’re more knowledgeable about…than me since you deal with them more than me?” Her tone wavered between sassy and questioning, not wanting to insult the detective, but she was not sure if he directly dealt with them either.

“Yes, I am fairly well informed of what vigilantes do.” He tried his best not to laugh. “You could say I’m someone very close to them. Don’t worry about the details, just follow my lead.” He gave her a wink and flashed a million dollar grin that usually made the ladies weak-kneed. Y/N was certainly not blind to his charms, but she was not so easily dazzled by something so simple and superficial. There was a lack of genuineness to his mannerisms. It all seemed a little cold and detached, almost like a show.

The last time I ‘just followed’ a guy, I ended up with a 4k bill I’m still paying off! And the time before that, I was tricked into stealing from the Penguin! Who knows what following Dick Dick’s lead will do! I’d rather not risk my life again, I like my head where it is. She smiled at him and nodded her head. “I feel better knowing someone as capable as you is handling this situation, thank you. Do you need anything more from me?” I need to get out of here, fast. 

“Glad to be of service and that’s all for now. If you think of anything or remember something, please don't hesitate to give me a call.” He pulled out his business card and handed it to her. “I'll make sure to wrap this all up quickly for you, but for formalities sake I'll need to call you in for a recorded interview. I’ll be in touch.” 

Fantastic, another guy I’ll be waiting on to contact me. Hopefully this doesn't take as long as the Little Lordling did. “I get it, sure. I can give you my work schedule so you know when to call here.” She offered, not wanting to give her personal number to him.

“Sure, that’ll make things easier. Or-,”

“Great, one sec!” She pocketed his card and moved towards the computer, printing out her shifts for the next three weeks. “Here you are. If that's all, I better head back to the counter, the morning rush is in full swing. We need all hands on deck.”

“Don’t let me keep you! I know how important that first cup is!” He raised his hands up and nodded to the door.

“Thank you, I hope you have a great rest of your day.” She smiled and quickly left the room, keeping herself from running as she picked up helping with making orders.

Dick stood alone in the office, staring at the chair she was sitting on. Y/N was certainly a very interesting person that did not quite fit the usual females of Gotham that he met on jobs like this. He knew she was not immune to his charms from how she went silent at his flirtations, but she was not charmed by him. She even made sure to avoid giving him her cell number to call her whenever. It was an odd tactic, smart, but odd. She was wary of him and he was not sure if it was because she was keeping her promise from that night or if she had a keen sense of danger.

I’m not a danger to her, but I am dangerous. What are the odds that she would meet three of us by coincidence? Normally I’d be more suspicious, but she's made zero moves to even reach out to Jason and isn't keen on me getting her number. I doubt this is some long con either, she would have focused on one of us or gone after Bruce himself. No, she's just got luck with meeting superheroes. Chuckling to himself, he left the room and followed the sound of Nolan’s voice. “Got the recording? I've got her information and work schedule.”

“Great, let’s go, this list ain’t gonna complete itself. Though I wish it did.” Nolan grumbled, the two heading out when two large cups of coffee and sandwiches were handed to them, instantly brightening the elder detective’s mood. Y/N silently watched the two of them leave, her focus solely on Detective Grayson. When he turned to look directly back at her, she quickly ducked her head to try and avoid being caught.

He didn’t catch me, right? Of course not, he was probably just looking back for nothing. She tried to untangle the knots of unease that started to build up in the pit of her stomach by pushing all of it to the back of her mind and focused on the orders that were quickly piling up. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid! Jason rolled over for the hundredth time, cocooning himself into a messy blanket burrito. Not only had he failed to message her first, he failed to respond to her good night text. It’s not like I’ve never been told I have a fine ass before, what is wrong with me?! “Dammit,” he groaned as he turned over once more. “And here I thought I had the upper hand and then she just up and texted me a formal ‘your fine ass’?” No, there’s no way I’m just laying around here and letting her win, Magnus was right! I needed to focus on not getting my spine snapped in two so I can actually make up for not texting on time. He wriggled out of the confines of his blanket and swung his feet over the edge of the bed. 

“First things first, I need to eat something. I’m starving.” He muttered to himself, scratching at his scalp while glancing at the clock. I got back around 4 this morning, slept for almost ten hours. Must’ve been more exhausted than I thought. Standing from the bed, he glanced around his bedroom before making his way over to the bathroom to start washing up.

As the afternoon rush came to an end, Y/N went to the breakroom in the back and stretched her stiff limbs, plopping down onto one of the chairs as she laid the rest of her on the table. “What a day, what a day.” She mumbled to herself, staring at the wall to her right. Am I going to be called in for a formal interview? Would they believe me not knowing? Does that detective really know Nightwing? How much longer do I have to work like this to finally pay off the bill? If I bring it up to him the next time they meet, would he deny it? Is he even going to text her or was he just saying that because he got caught? The unanswered questions came and went, one by one, when the chime of her phone forced herself to sit up to dig it out of her pocket. Much to her surprise, there was a text from the infamous ‘Your Hero’.

<So you think I have a fine ass, huh?> She nearly fell out of her chair from shock and confusion. There was no way he was watching her or had telepathy, right? She contemplated the possibility for a moment when she saw that he was typing. <When’s your next day off? I’ll make sure to keep my schedule light.>

My next day off will be three weeks from whenever I’m done paying for that crazy bill. She glared at her device. He must know it’s broken, right? It’s not like it broke without him knowing. Maybe he’s embarrassed and doesn’t know how to bring it up? I mean, he did see that I work in a cafe. I’d feel like a real dunce for breaking a simple coffee machine only to find out the person who paid for the room makes coffee drinks for a living. She did not want to bring it up via text nor did she want to give an answer that would seem like she was uninterested. <I’m free in the evening on Saturday and daytime on Sunday.> She offered, figuring weekends would be better options for him.<But if you’re looking for something in the middle of the week, only time I have is next week Tuesday or Thursday in three weeks.>

<Damn, you’re a hard person to come by, huh? You’re not someone who hates doing anything on Sundays just because it’s the day before Monday, right?> 

<Depends if I like the plan, you plan on telling me what it is?> She sent back as she grabbed her packed lunch, biting into her sandwich.

<Nope, you’ll just have to meet me Sunday and find out.>

<You are a cruel Little Lordling! Very well, what time and where do we meet?>

<Noon sounds good? Also did you want to meet somewhere or did you want me to pick you up?> Y/N stared at her phone, blinking as she reread the text over and over again. He wanted to meet up and possibly pick her up from her apartment.

<I’ll need to run it by Cici first, we live together. I’ll text you back later today?>

<Sure, text whenever you find out. Are you at work now?>

<Yeah, currently on break. What about you?>

<LOL I woke up an hour ago, though I did finish around 4.>

<I don’t know if I should envy you or feel sorry for you.>

<Depends, which gets me more brownie points?>

<Brownies sound really good right about now. You can get points if you bring me some.>

<Brownies sound good anytime to me. What time are you working until today?>

<I’m working the graveyard shift again. Lucky me.>

<Of course you are, you met me after all. That ass hasn’t been bothering you, right?>

<You mean Matías? Nah, he hasn’t been around since.>

<That’s good, you’ll have an easier night without him.>

And no vigilantes flying into the store through windows. <Never a dull moment here. I gotta get back to work now, I’ll text you what Cici says later.>

<Cool, hopefully the rest of your day isn’t too crazy.>Oh if you only knew. She sighed, tossing out her trash and pocketing her phone before heading back to the front.

[agoodfictitle-shadowban]

From Vormir, With Love - Part 1

Summary: As you're being chased you crash on Vormir. So far, so bad. But things take a turn when you come face to face with a marooned Black Widow.

Tags: strangers to lovers, love in space angst on earth, slavery mention, alien abduction, post Endgame, will add as we go on

Word count: 3.4k

A/n: I hate tumblr and its stupid shadowban function, but i love you guys too much so here you go! Hope you like that one

Taglist: tbd

You look up from the helm, where the lights are flashing warnings. Shit, that's bad, you think, the thrusters are about to die.

"Y/n! You need to finish that shit NOW!" You hear the voice coming from behind you, a metallic clang the only indication that your co-captain is trying to keep your spaceship afloat. "The thrusters are gonna crash in two minutes, top!"

Definitely bad, you remarks uselessly in your mind. You almost look back to tell her that you're doing your best but the ship shakes under a new hit from the enemy, and so, you keep your mouth shut for now.

"Alright, alright…" you mutter as you navigate closer to the planet.

It's a barren rock with bodies of liquid across the land, and a sun constantly eclipsed. You'd never been here before, but as you approach, you feel a profound dread knot in your stomach. You ignore the feeling and focus on the descent.

You feel the winds change around the ship as the resistance increases, and you find cover from the next burst of lasers that breaks some rocks clean off. You're far from it already when the rumble of the mutilated landscape reaches your ears. You fly through a narrow pass before the opportunity you were looking for presents itself. You shot two blasts towards the ground where steam escaped from rocky cones. The crusty dirt flies around you and heavy plumes of steam escape from everywhere under the sudden pressure and destruction, offering you cover and scrambling the heat sensors of the enemy ship. You make a brutal turn to face them once you reach the other end of the geysers' field, and as it appears in front of you, you fire, destroying it and flying through the debris it leaves behind.

"Hell yeah! June! Have you seen that?!" You turn around, and your eyes go wide when you notice black ashes appearing in the cockpit. As it happens, the thrusters start to fail.

"We're gonna crash, Y/n, look at the damn road!"

"There are no roads in the sky!"

There is screaming, and you manage to stabilize your ship before it finally crashes. You groan, feeling like every bone in your body is about to break, and you look around you.

"Everyone okay?" You ask, and you're answered by various sounds and confirmations that no one is hurt. "Perfect. Now." You get off your seat and unholster your blaster, pointing it at the head of one of the newly appeared people. "What the fuck just happened?"

The newly appeared people you don't recognize, but you know what they are. Aliens. Slavers. And now the question is: will you have to fight for your life, because those assholes look very well equipped, better than you and June after you spent years in space with little resources. You look in the fully black eyes of the alien with long saber-tooth cats-like fangs.

"You tell us, human," he answers. "We're just the maintenance crew."

"Very well armed for a maintenance crew," you sass and he growls.

"This is just a vacuum." As he says that, he reaches for the weapon strapped to his back. "Look." He pushes a button and the very distinct sound of air being aspirated resonates between the walls of the ship. Your brows knit together, but you put your weapon down.

"Weird place to keep a vacuum but okay…" you mutter as you look at the rest of the crew in overalls. They seem harmless enough, besides from the predator teeth guy. You offer him a hand and he takes it to help himself up. "My name is Y/n."

"I'm Tim," he says in a rumble, and you frown.

"Tim? That's a very human name."

"Don't insult me. It means great warrior in my language. Tim."

"I swear, it's a human name."

"Are you sure your translator isn't broken?" He groans and shows his teeth, his ears falling flat against his cranium, so you decide to drop the subject. No need to antagonize your new guests.

"Anyway, guess you were taking care of the ship when you got dusted."

"Dusted?"

Oh boy. You had to catch those aliens about everything that happened, that was going to be a pain in the ass, so you decide your best course of action. "JUNE!"

There, that should get you out of trouble. Your best friend and crewmate finally emerges from the ship's entrails and looks around. "What the–"

You shrug. Her problem now. You let yourself fall back on your seat while you consult the star map.

LMC-H 13g.

Or at least that's what the translation is giving you. In any case, it clearly isn't Earth. You let out a deep sigh, and it gets the attention of someone in the ship that you barely noticed until then. One of the aliens that reappeared stops listening to June's explanation and approaches. She's less threatening than the others, with a tall body but frail members with three joints, like those of a praying mantis. She also sports the features of an insect on her face, and you suspect she might not be as frail as she appears. You eye her suspiciously, her fully black eyes staring at you with a chilling intensity. You can't help but put your hand on your weapon.

"I don't mean any harm," she reassures you with a raspy, almost tantalizing voice, mandibules clicking around her mouth. "I just want to know where we are."

You still your hand, but don't move it away, simply orient the arm on which the coordinates' screen is suspended to show it to her. You don't even want to attempt to pronounce it.

"Vormir…" she whispers. You feel the fear in her voice, see it in the way her mandibules move nervously.

"Vormir?" You ask back, looking for information. During the last few years, you learned that information held lots of power. Before that, you thought it was a saying that only made sense in books while you lead a peaceful life on Earth.

Her black scleras and irises turn back to you. Her lateral lids close in a microsecond. "It's a bad place, I heard whispers of people disappearing around this system, or weird frequencies coming from here. We should go as soon as we can."

"Wish we could, but the bastard after us fried our thrusters. We're gonna need to get them working again."

"Are people after you?" You wince at her question, but nod. The insect-like alien nervously rubs her eye with her arm as she looks away. Not the most disturbing sight you witnessed before. "Who?"

You point at the insignia on her overall, a circular patch with a blue 'x' with a white star on each bronze section it makes. It's the flag of an alien race living on the edge of known space and civilization, nomads slavers with barely anything to scrap by because they are chased around by most known authorities.

"Those guys." You decide to keep the reason why to yourself, since you know nothing of your stowaways for now. "We bought something under their nose and they didn't like it," you lie. The alien's mandibule seems to nod at the explanation.

"Explains why you threatened us. But we're nothing like them."

You adjust your position and the screen you moved earlier as a sign that you were getting back to work. "We'll see about that."

The conversation is over, she understands, and you look at the star chart. This was supposed to be your last mission before you could get back to Earth, so of course you had to get unlucky. You let out a new sigh and got up to grab your exploration material. The ship already told you outside was safe to breathe, but the gravity was slightly higher than on Earth. Seems like I'm getting my workout in, you think and giggle to yourself before covering it with a cough.

With that, you equip your toolbelt and your protections, in case an enemy survived your attack and subsequent crash.

"I'm gonna check the enemy crash site," you tell June who is recounting to the others what happened the previous five years. The door's pneumatics hiss when you press the button to open it, and soon you have a platform to get outside. When you touch down on the ground, you look around. This place really is just a rock with a few big puddles. That's going to make walking around a lot more annoying.

You set out into the unknown.

Walking around the planet is hard, but you quickly get used to it. You find a good rhythm and settle into it, which allows you to arrive only after twenty minutes to the other crash site. Bits and pieces of the ship litter the ground around you, some on fire, along with some body parts. You approach a charred body and give it a small kick, almost to make sure it's truly dead, before you keep walking around. It's easy to find an opening inside the ship through a hatch. The metal floor resonates under your feet when you land inside, and you look around. The dying lights flash like a gas station neon tube about to surrender, so you get your flashlight on before you set to look around the silent ship. You see a few more bodies around, and after taking anything useful they have on them, you keep walking. You're quick to find the command room, and once there, you approach an operating workstation. It takes a few minutes for you to get it running - after working with that technology for five years you're used to it now - and you navigate the applications, where you find the one giving you the general state of the ship. You save that information so you can bring it back to June, and if you're lucky, it will save you time on repairs.

After a quick round on the ship and no enemy in sight, you go back to your own ship.

*

"A week," June announces, her eyes on schematics you can't even begin to comprehend.

"We don't have enough resources to survive a week here," you whisper to her. "Not if we have to take care of those guys too." You point your finger to the sleeping aliens in the ship. They had to find whatever spot was available, as there were five of them, and only four beds - two belonging to June and you.

"Why are we even helping them? You've seen their uniforms, they're the enemy," she comments and finally looks at you.

You look at them.

"I mean, they're not really like them, so, they were probably slaves too. And they haven't been hostile."

Your friend sighs, and you shrug. She always says you have a soft heart, and maybe she's right, but right now what else were you supposed to do? Leave them there to their own device? They would die.

"I looked at the other ship's schematics, their rations should have survived the crash. At least their water."

June opens a plan for you to look at, and you lean closer to get a better look. You remember walking by the door she's showing you, but it was locked and you had no way to open it.

"Alright, I'll go back tomorrow to open it." You declare. "Or at least try to," you add, less assurance in your voice while the plan disappears in favor of some ship's part.

But as you discuss repairs with June, you fail to notice the slitted pupils staring at your back.

*

The feeling of dread never goes away, no matter how long you're staying on the deserted planet, no matter how hard you try to ignore it, it stays at the back of your mind, like an itch you can't scratch.

The good news is that with some of your new friends you manage to salvage enough resources to repair your ship. The bad news is that you keep failing at opening the food compartment, and your rations are dwindling way too fast. After three days, you're starting to see the end of it and the urgency to open that damn door is weighing heavily on your shoulders. You kept working on it the last few nights, and tonight you're going back to it. You're now used to the small trek across the wasteland and can do it without any trouble, but as you do this time, you feel like someone is staring at you. No matter how much you look around, you don't see anyone, so you put it on the account that you're tired and walking at night. You reach the crashed ship, then the door, and to your surprise you find it open. Immediately you reach for your weapon. The now familiar weight in hand, you take a step inside the room.

Packages of dehydrated food litter the room, with some jugs of water. They probably fell from the shelves during the crash, but they still seem intact. You look around, your heart beating against your ear and your breath heavy with adrenaline despite your attempt at not making any noise. You reach a corner at the end of a line of shelves, putting your back against the left one before you surge in the corner, weapon pointed in front of you to look both right then left. No one is there, and you let out a sigh of relief.

"Guess whoever was there already left," you tell yourself in an attempt to regain your composure, letting your weapon lay low. You briefly wonder who else could be there. Was the planet inhab–

You swallow hard when you feel the cold metal at the back of your head.

"You guessed wrong," the cold, feminine voice rings in your ears. Fuck. You should have been more careful, now you're fucked. But not dead, you think as the firearm recedes. "Put your weapon on the ground, your hands up, then turn around, slowly."

You do as you're told, slowly reaching to the ground where you put your weapon, before you stand up and put your hands in the air. With fear in your guts, you turn around. The stranger is in the shadows, and you can't see her beside her silhouette.

You finally gather the courage to speak. "Who are you?"

Despite your best efforts, your voice shakes slightly when you talk. The woman steps forward, out of the shadow, and for a second you forget all your fears. Not only are you surprised to see she's human, but she's also gorgeous. Her red hair is tied in a braid, the strands degrading to blond towards the end. She has the bluest eyes you've ever seen before, and her face is perfect, with a pretty nose and full lips - too bad she is frowning and pointing a gun at you currently. You can't help but feel like you've seen her somewhere before.

"I'm the one asking the questions," she says, and you're not in a position to negotiate, so you nod. "What are you doing on Vormir?"

"I was on a retrieval mission, but I got tailed and now I'm grounded here," you answer, leaving out the small detail that you aren't alone. "I'm just here to get some supplies."

You know you have to look as little of a threat as possible if you want to get out of here alive. You see the cogs turn in her head before she speaks again. "What happened to the ones who were after you?"

Your eyes wander away from the woman. "They're a bit everywhere around us," you answer with a grimace. So much for looking harmless. She squints her eyes at you.

"Does that mean you have a ship with you?" You can see where she's getting at, and you frown. You answer with a simple nod right before something moves at the corner of your eye.

Suddenly, a massive form tackles the woman in front of you and pushes her against a shelf in a roar, her gun being thrown away in the impact.

Tim. Did he follow you here? Shit. You don't have the time to say or do anything, the woman is throwing Tim away with barely any difficulty. One of the shelf topples and you have to jump away so you don't get crushed. You look around and see she's reaching for her weapon. By reflex, you jump on it and grab it before she can reach it, pointing it at her. She kicks it out of your hands in the air and her hand reaches up, but before she can catch it Tim is back up and charges at her. She has to put one hand on his shoulder before she jumps above him and falls back on her feet gracefully, almost like a dancer.

You flap your hand once or twice, to shake off the pain, looking at Tim and the mysterious woman having it out. She clearly has the advantage, but if Tim manages to actually hit her even once he would probably do a lot of damages. You have to find a way to stop them, because you were pretty sure the woman just needed a ride, and Tim intervened only when he saw she was a threat - but was she, really?

You grab your own weapon while no one is paying you any mind, and fire a round to the ceiling. It bounces back, almost grazing you. You manage to keep your face calm and barely avoid a yelp, but still you clear your throat.

"Okay, that's enough you two!" They pause, Tim his claws up in the air, ready to strike, the woman in a low, close to the ground fighting pose. You point at Tim. "First, what are you doing here?"

"I followed you. You were acting suspicious," he explains, and you sigh.

"I was looking for food, trying not to have people panic."

"You did so good…" he mumbles sarcasticly and the redhead snickers. You send him a glare.

"You, do you need a ride? Cause if so, no need to threaten me. Sheesh." You roll your eyes, and she arches an eyebrow.

"I had to make sure you wouldn't try to kill me."

That makes you groan and you pass your hand on your face, bringing your loose strand of hair back only for them to fall around your face again.

"I think I can try to contain myself," you say with a hint of sarcasm while you holster your weapon. "Tim?"

He groans and crosses his arms, ears still halfway flattened on his head. "I won't attack you again." There is a growl coming from the back of his throat, but it seems to be more out of annoyance than a threat.

"Perfect. Everyone grabs as much food and water, and we're going back to the ship."

You turn your back to the both of them and start throwing everything you can in your backpack and pockets. The other two follow suit while they avoid each other. As you're stuffing your pockets, you feel a presence next to you and then hear the woman playing with a crackling packet.

"What's your name?" She finally asks, and you scoff.

"An apology first would be nice," you mumble, then sigh. "Y/n Y/ln. What about you?"

"Natasha," she answers simply, and that's when it clicks.

She's Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow. Shit. Fuck. You decide to play it cool and not reveal right now that you know who she is.

"What are you doing on this rock?" You decide to ask, even though you feel she won't give you an honest answer. "It's not exactly a great holiday destination."

"Tell me about it." Something flashes in her eyes and you barely catch it before it's gone. "I was trying to find something here."

"What were you trying to find?" You find yourself pushing.

"Solace." Her eyes navigate the darkness in front of her, but you feel like she's contemplating a very different one, something inside of herself. That makes you tilt your head, and you decide not to push much more. You close your now full backpack.

"We should head back now. Tim, you got everything you could?" You ask when you find him between two rows of shelves. He linked a few jugs of water together and is now carrying them around with his muscular arms.

"Water for weeks." He eyes the redhead. "What about you, humans? Found anything?"

You nod. "Let's get back to the ship." You start to walk towards the door. "June really won't like what I'm going to tell her," you mumble to yourself as you exit the ship.

[eddiestightywhities]

SATURDAY SNIPPET

tagged by the wonderful @playinginthunderstorms—thanks, charlie! everyone can find their brilliant snippet HERE

this is another few paragraphs of my—finished and now just in need of editing!—eddie pov fic that is my buck coming out to eddie rewrite i've been working on for the last couple of days xp (if you want, you can have a butchers at the other excerpt i posted from it HERE)

.

Like an idiot, Eddie attempts to confirm what Buck already told him.

“So, you two were…”

For some reason, he can't get the rest of the words out.

“We were on a date. Yes.”

Buck's smiling, and Eddie wants to hug him for how happy he looks about the whole thing, only a little bit more than he wants to grab his friend's face in both hands and irrationally scream what is happening to us? until his voice is hoarse.

Whatever an out of body experience feels like, Eddie reckons it might be something akin to this. And he knows how dramatic he's being, he does, but he can't seem to stop—even if he is at a complete loss as to why.

“Okay.”

Eddie's then nodding, only he doesn't really know what he's nodding at.

Buck asks, “Is that weird?”

At once, he insists, “No. Absolutely not,” even though he feels it is, for some reason, weird. Not because being queer is weird, because no, fuck no, of course it fucking isn't. Maybe it's just because...

Because?

Why, exactly, Eddie has no clue.

He feels so, so lost.

The forest is a deep dark place, something hiding behind his ribcage mumbles before scuttling off to bury itself some place even further inside of Eddie's gunshot chest.

Is it Tommy, specifically, he wonders, because he's Eddie's new sparring pal and maybe now he won't be? He digs for a reason as to why that would bother him, but comes up empty handed.

And Tommy, he seems like a good guy.

Which is why Eddie is fairly perturbed when he pictures Tommy's face and it makes him wish he had the power of materialisation, to get the LAFD air support pilot to appear, here and now in Buck's kitchen, so he can sock the fucker in the stupid chiseled jaw with his best right hook, right in front of Buck.

Jesus, what the hell is wrong with him?

.

no pressure tags for some buddies under the cut!

@inell @rosieposiepuddingnpie @sortasirius @angela-feelstoomuch @woodchoc-magnum @kitteneddiediaz @watchyourbuck @treasurehuntbuck @daffi-990 @colonoscopys @shitouttabuck @lamardeuse @idealuk @veronae-buddie @wildehacked @isaacthedruid @hattalove @mavitruther @exhuastedpigeon @team-118 @playinginthunderstorms @cranberrymoons

[thefallennightmare]

Arranged-nineteen

credit to whoever made the gif. found on google/pintrest.

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: language, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death.

Summary: Reader would do anything to make her parents happy and that included agreeing to an arranged marriage. She never expected it to be to one of New York's most feared Mob Boss: Bucky Barnes. He is anything but loving towards Reader however when her parents are mysteriously killed, Bucky makes it his mission to find out who were at fault. And in the process, ends up coming close to losing Reader.

Authors Note: So I think I have an idea for a new mob!bucky barnes story. I might post the summary of it and if it sounds interesting to you all, I'll start it! There are probably a few chapters left of this one, just trying to decide on how to end it. Happy or sad. Who knows!

Tags(closed): @alexxavicry @mdpplgtz03 @broadwaybabe18 @samsgirl93 @cherryflavoureds-blog @findthebeautyinbreakdowns @capsgrantrogersclqrosmgc @loumaaria-blog @queerqueenlynn @pampeop @cjand10 @purplerain85 @savannahcole99 @evanstanhoney @sebastianstansqueen @portrait-ninja @honeyglee @saranghaey @almosttoopizza @lilya-petrichor @valsworldofcreativity @buckycallsmeaslut @romanoffjohansson @themayzittcha @sapphiredreamer26 @buckybarnessimpp @itjustkindahappenedreally @mavrellover91 @esoltis280 @playboystark @legendarytrashcopeclipse @pansexual-4-all @elizacusi-blog @dnc331 @tee-swizzle @lovsalpkn @yourfavunsub @madebylilly @cerberusmybeloved @lclove2012-blog @onelmstreetett @tesseract69 @monique2281 @wayward-gypsy @wholesomewhorelol @ozwriterchick @pono-pura-vida @bogwaterswamp @s0urw00lf @daydreaming-mood @maggiemae5 @big-heart-ninjasblog @alexa4040 @screaming-les-bean @loustan90 @buckys2lut​ @marnle @pattiemac1

Arranged Masterlist

The sound of gunfire echoed in my ears, loudly, and the gun clattered to the ground below. My eyes were wide with shock and despair at what had just happened. There was an intense pain shooting through my heart all the way down to my stomach as I looked at Bucky, who matched my own expression. 

“Doll?” His voice shook, tears filling his eyes. 

I blinked and tried to speak but failed. Words felt so foreign as I tried to say something, anything. 

Bucky’s gaze traveled low as he tried to understand what happened. Time seemed to have slowed down when, with shaky hands, I pressed them against my stomach. The warm liquid seeped through my fingers and when I pulled them away, I choked out a sob when I saw them covered in something dark red. 

Blood. 

The new hole in my stomach poured out blood as I locked eyes with Bucky, fear on my face. 

“Bucky?” My voice cracked. 

I collapsed in front of him and with quick hands, he had them wrapped around me in order to stop me from hitting the ground. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’ve got you,” he cooed while setting me down gently. 

He applied tight pressure to the bullet wound on my stomach and I hissed out in pain. 

“What happened?” 

I tried to talk but even that simple action caused a pain to shoot through the entirety of my stomach. As I looked up at Bucky, I noticed his eyes well up with tears and guilt filled me with what I was seconds away from doing. 

“I wasn’t-.” 

A painful cry erupted from my throat when Bucky pressed down harder on my stomach in hopes to stop me from losing more blood than I already had. 

“Just breathe, try not to talk.” Bucky said. 

My eyes squeezed shut and did what he ordered me to do; deep breath in, shaky breath out. I did this a few times hoping it would ease my rising fear of dying that filled me. 

Suddenly, Bucky was knocked away from me, John straddling him. He began laying his fists into Bucky’s face, who was unable to protect himself because he had been caught off guard. 

“Fuck!” I cursed as I tried to sit up in order to help Bucky. 

Anytime I tried to move, more blood would pool into my hands so in defeat, I leaned up against the wall and watched with broken gaze as John continued to lay fist after fist into Bucky’s face. 

That was until Bucky wrapped his legs around John’s waist, rolling him onto his back and now Bucky had the upper hand, slamming his vibranium fist into John’s face, stomach, neck, anywhere he could. 

I pulled my hand away and grimaced at how stained it was, the smell of copper filling my senses, and I silently prayed with closed eyes to whatever Gods would listen to not die. 

“She’s so in love with you that she couldn’t even shoot you. Even after all of the lies you told her.” 

Through lidded eyes, I noticed John was laying on the ground, broken, and Bucky was standing over him. The gun in his hand grabbed my attention right away. 

“So you fucking shoot her?” Bucky seethed, laying a bone cracking punch to his cheek.

John spat out some blood. “The serum will heal her soon, you know that.” 

The serum.

Even with the rage I felt for being injected with it, I was somewhat thankful for it at this moment knowing that I wasn’t going to die. 

Right?

Bucky cocked the gun. “What gave you the right to inject her with it? She didn’t want it!” 

“I think we both know that you were going to do it to her anyway. I simply rushed the process,” John chuckled. 

My heart slammed in my chest at John’s words and as Bucky locked his gaze with my own, he rapidly shook his head. 

“That was never going to happen, Y/N.” 

I licked my dry lips and rested my head against the wall, the pain of being shot almost doubled, not letting up anytime soon. My entire body throbbed in tangent with my heart, I could hear the beat of it in my ears. 

“I don’t care anymore,” I breathed. 

Bucky moved his attention back to John and with a swift kick to his stomach, John choked on his own blood. The gun was pressed hard into the side of his skull, Bucky leaning on his knees. 

“Bucky,” I choked. 

He ignored me, almost as if he knew what I was going to say. 

With a deep breath, I put more pressure on my wound while getting to my knees, then my feet. I stumbled a little, becoming a bit lightheaded, but reached for Bucky. 

“Bucky,” I repeated. “Give me the gun.” 

The gun shook in his hand as his bottom lip trembled with hatred the longer he started at John, not pulling the trigger. He shook his head, refusing my request. 

“He deserves to die, Y/N.” 

I nodded. “I know. But I want to be the one to pull the trigger.” 

Bucky took his eyes off of John and shook his head towards me. “No!” 

His face had been cut and bloody from his fight with John but I could see the way it broke at the mere image of me killing someone. 

Tears fell from my eyes and with one hand on my wound, I extended the other one towards him. “Please. I need to do this.” 

He wanted to fight with me on this but in the end he knew that I wouldn’t stop until I got what I wanted; and that was John dead. 

With a soft sigh, Bucky reluctantly placed the gun in my hand. 

“You won’t be able to do it, Y/N. It’s not who you are,” John said while kneeling in front of me. “You’re not a killer.” 

I chuckled dryly with a darkness I never felt before filled my veins. I chalked it up to the serum.  “I thought the same thing about you.” 

Bucky stood behind me, a silent metaphor of always having my back, no matter what came my way. I could feel his hot breath on the back of my neck as he asked one more time if I was sure about this. 

With the gun raised, pointed in the middle of John’s forehead, I gave bucky his answer by pulling the trigger. John’s body fell to the ground in a heap and I let the gun fall on top of him. 

I thought that I would have felt relieved and happy that my parents' killer was finally found and justice was served. However, I felt disgusted and my body shivered with how dirty I felt. My skin crawled with the knowledge that I had taken someone’s life. This wasn’t legal, I had committed a crime but knowing the circumstances of what happened tonight, there was no way I would get in trouble for this. 

But with being married to Bucky, I knew that the body would be gone before anyone could even question what happened to John. 

Vibranium fingers brushed against mine, bringing me back from the darkness that took over, and I gave Bucky a sad look. 

“You don’t feel any better, do you?” He asked. 

I shook my head with tears in my eyes. “I feel worse.” 

“Let’s get you home,” Bucky suggested while trying to link our hands together. 

Even with everything that just happened, I didn’t forget about how he knew about the deal between our dads in more detail that he led on. He only saw me as a cash in, someone to have when he needed a warm body to lie next to. I refused to allow myself to be lied to anymore. I deserved to have someone that felt the same and wanted me because they loved me. 

I was in love with Bucky but he wasn’t in love with me. Because of that, I was ready to walk away from everything.

My free hand clutched the wall to steady myself when I felt the room beginning to spin. I could feel all the color drain from my body as my eyes rolled to the back of my head, darkness and death yanking me into its abyss.

[mossyivy]

CHRIS STANS RISE!!! WE NEED TO GIVE THAT MAN MORE LOVE AND ATTENTION!!! 😤

Domestic Chris…Because that’s my specialty. 🥹

I see Chris having three kids, two boys, one girl. He’d be the type of dad to push his boys so hard, always expecting the best of the best from them. His daughter as well, but not as harsh. I see them all pretty close in age, maybe 1-2 years apart for each kid.

He’d have his boys do all sorts of sports and activities. Football, baseball, basketball, tennis, track, cross country, you name it, they do it. Chris would also help them practice, especially in football and baseball. His daughter would probably do ballet, tennis, and be in the Girl Scouts with Cecilia, and maybe do drama with Violet as well.

Also, it’s very much cannon that Chris spoils his daughter 10X more than his boys. His little girl wants to go on a Sephora shopping trip? Take his card and go crazy. His boys want to go out with their friends? Here’s $25 for the both of you.

Chris is also such a loving husband. He’d buy you gifts “Just because”. Or if you mention a new designer purse online, it would mysteriously show up on the dining table to greet you when you woke up…With a handwritten note of course. You were very much a spoiled wife, but he didn’t care, you gave him three beautiful kids for god sakes, of course he’d buy you whatever you want.

If there was ever a time any of your boys were disrespectful to you while he was gone, (Because they know better than to mess with their mother while dad’s around.) He’d give them the “You don’t disrespect MY wife.” Talk. Ugh, 😣 give me a chance Chris…☹️

- Anon! 🎀

🎀 ANON I FUCKING LOVE YOU I'VE BEEN WANTING TO TALK ABOUT HIM BUT NO ONE REALLY DOES MUCH IN THE CHRIS TAG ANYMORE AND THAT PLUMMETS MY MOTIVATION!!!

But I'll scream with you anyday bb!!!

(I'm sorry this is so long I just couldn't help myself 😭)

Okay so I've had the idea that Chris met someone with a child from a previous relationship (Your first born son, Let's name him Oliver and call him Ollie for short! He's like 2 years older than Violet. He struggles a bit in school so they're in the same grade, along with his younger brother, after he was held back in 5th and 8th grade but that's okay! Everyone struggles!)

Ollie was like 2 when they first met. Your ex-husband was a HORRIBLE MAN, absolutely terrible to you and the only good thing he ever did was bless you with Ollie. That's it.

Chris and his wife met through work (let's be honest here, how tf else would he meet a woman? Chris is very much a workaholic.) His wife is basically the lead of the BSAA's dispatch response team (Basically what Hunnigan does at the FOS but the BSAA's version) and she's good at her job. Very strong willed and mouthy as a mf. Isn't scared to go back at anyone over the radio and definitely got into it with Chris once or twice before they officially met.

(catch me posting what happened when they met in person the first chance someone asks)

Anyway!!

After y'all start dating it doesn't take long before you introduce Chris to your son and Ollie is just OBSESSED with Chris. Like you've never seen this kid so excited to see another human being until Chris shows up. You two only started dating for a few months and Ollie already calls Chris dad. You try correcting him scared AF that Chris is gonna get freaked out but he's actually super chill with it. He's use to taking care of people, he basically raised Claire after their parents died but this little guy is much younger and a lot more fun and excitable than Claire was.

A few months into the relationship you find out you're pregnant. Chris is excited but also freaking out with how often he's gone. But everything works out and you end up having your second son, Christopher Jr but CJ for short.

You and Chris end up getting married not long after your first anniversary after the babies born. Not making a big deal out of anything just getting papers signed and having a little get together celebrating everything.

2 years go by, Ollie's in Kindergarten and CJ does daycare. You start getting horribly ill out of nowhere. So you go get checked out and oh God you're pregnant again...

(This would be the point in time where Leon starts bugging for another baby with his wife)

9 months of Chris being a nervous wreck fly by and the world meets your daughter, Talulla, Lulu for short.

Chris would be adamant on sticking the kids in after school activities once they're old enough. His boys would do sports and his baby girl in softball and girl scouts so she can hangout with her pseudo cousins. (Her being 2 years younger than Violet and 2 years older than Cecilia) Until her older cousin quits cause girl scouts are for babies (🙄)

Chris and his wife would be UBER COMPETITIVE when it came to cookie selling season. It's all out war between the Redfield's and Kennedy's every year.

I feel like Ollie would also really be musically gifted and play piano for the school choir and musicals. Lulu would Ed up wanting to do drama but be a stage hand or in the costume department. She's actually very shy.

CJ is basically Chris when he was a kid. Always doing stupid shit... Getting in trouble over the dumbest of things but looking out for others. (Definitely beat up that kid who was picking on Violet when they were 7.)

You're getting calls from the school at least once a month because CJ got in trouble for either getting into an argument with a teacher over rules or another kid tried something stupid.

[wellgoslowly]

Hello! I love reading your stories and I was wondering if I could get a request please. It’s for Lockwood and Co. One day, Lockwood stumbled into a small bookstore because it was raining and there he finds the reader (and her dog, a boxer please) who owns the bookstore and they start talking and the reader doesn’t think anything about it (because she talks to all her customers the same way) but Lockwood starts showing up more often at the bookstore to just to talk to her and slowly but surely they start falling for each other. Thank you so much!!!

Bookstore Girl

a/n: this is by far the longest request I've written to date! I'm very proud of it and I'd defo be interested in writing a part two. I also just love me a good bookstore romance so this was super fun to write! i listened to the song bookstore girl by charlie burg a lot while writing this!! also there's quite a bit of tea related discussions and I have never made tea so pls don't scream at me I am simply american and unexperienced.

pairing: lockwood × fem!reader

word count: 3.3k

warnings: none

notices: a character in this oneshot uses neopronouns [ey/em]!! if you don’t know what they are, please check this out- and if you don’t support people who use neopronouns, do not interact. If you comment hate, you will be blocked. neopronoun users are valid and loved on my blog, and I won’t tolerate hate of any kind. if you use neoprouns- know that I love you and you will always have a place in my writing (as a person who goes by they/she/ey)

tags: @ikeasupremacy @oblivious-idiot @givemea-dam-break @tangledinlove @neewtmas @losticaruss @waitingforthesunrise [if yall want to be tagged when I post requests, lmk in the comments! also sorry if I forgot anyone!!]

It was a slow, rainier-than-normal London afternoon when you first met Anthony Lockwood.

“Hi there… Would you happen to have anywhere I could sit and… dry off?” You had been shelving what was left of a new shipment of classics you had just received when you’d heard a distressed patron behind you. “Oh yes, of course.” You said as you turned to face the customer, suppressing a laugh at the sight before you. A handsome figure stood behind you, their dark long coat absolutely dripping as they wrapped it around themselves, trying to salvage some sense of warmth. “We have a cafe in the back, follow me… and try not to drip too much.” You joked, and goddamn, of course the pretty customer had a pretty laugh.

“Apologies, uh… ma'am.” He said, noticing the pronoun pin on the strap of your apron. “I was just walking home and the storm came out of nowhere and one of my roommates broke my umbrella last week… long story.” They explained as you led them to the small cafe situated in the rear of the store. “Would you like anything? Cocoa, Tea?” You offered as they sat down at a small table near the entryway. “Oh, tea would be perfect, thank you.” They spoke, and you couldn’t help but notice the rapier attached to their hip as the sheath scraped gently across the hardwood floor.

“How do you take it?” Nellie, your best friend, business partner, and head barista, asked from behind the counter. “Hm- surprise me. However you take it is fine.” The customer said with a smile. You slipped behind the counter, brushing past Nellie as ey flitted about looking for the secret stash of eir favorite tea that ey always keep hidden, only taking from it on “special occasions”. Nellie winked at you as you slipped into the backroom, looking for the spare blanket you always keep back there for cold winter days. You rolled your eyes and shooed Nellie away, causing em to laugh. Finding the soft reserve blanket, you turned to take it to the sopping wet customer, only to find Nellie blocking your way.

“What are you doing?” Nellie asked, a slightly mischievous glint in eir eyes. “Getting our dripping wet customer a blanket. Why?” You asked, suspicious of Nellie’s train of thought. “He’s nice. Asked me my pronouns and told me he goes by he/him. He’s pretty cute too.” You scoffed. “What does that have to do with anything?” You laughed, causing Nellie to roll eir eyes at you. “You never let anyone use your blanket, not even me.” You laughed again. “Yeah, Nellie, well, you’re never sopping wet when you ask. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must attend to our customer.” You say, brushing past Nellie and ignoring eir laughter as you walked out of the backroom.

When you returned to the main floor, you noticed that the customer was no longer alone. “Bruce, leave the poor guy alone.” You laughed, watching as your dog, a Boxer, jumped up, front paws landing on the customer’s lap as the customer laughed. “It’s not a problem, honestly. He’s quite cute.” You smiled, handing the blanket to the customer, who took it with a soft “thank you” and an appreciative smile.

“I'm glad you think so. Some of our older patrons don't like that we have a dog around, but I could care less.” You say, bending down slightly to pet Bruce on the head as he jumped down from the customer's lap. “Is he yours?” The customer asked as he wrapped the blanket around his body. You nodded, sitting down at a chair opposite the patron.

“Yep. This place, too.” You said with a cheerful smile as Bruce jumped into your lap. “Oh! I had no clue I was in the presence of the owner.” You laughed, scratching behind Bruce's ears. “No, I'm serious, that's really cool. I run my own business too, but it's not… quite like this.” He chuckled, almost to himself, glancing down at the rapier on his hip.

“Wait- you run your own agency?” You asked, intrigued. You had vaguely heard of agents running their own agencies, but you hadn't necessarily believed that someone your age was capable of running something like that. And yet it kind of made sense, taking in his appearance- the long coat, white button down, black tie, and slightly too-tight pants gave the desired effect of making him look slightly older and a bit more authoritative.

He smiled and stuck out his hand. “Anthony Lockwood, of Lockwood & Co, at your service. Most people just call me Lockwood.” You smiled, shaking his hand in turn as Bruce grumpily whined at the loss of your hand. “[Name], of Read Rose Books. Pleasure to meet you, Lockwood. You know, I think I've heard of you. You did the Annabelle Ward Case a while back, right?” He nodded, a sparkle appearing in his eye at your mentioning of hearing of his agency. “Yes, that was us. It's a pleasure to meet you as well, [name].”

“And I'm Nellie.” Nellie had a knack for sneaking up on you at the worst times, and that day was no exception as Nellie had somehow crept up behind you without a sound. ~~The customer~~ Lockwood himself didn't seem to notice Nellie's presence, jumping about 3 feet in the air at eir arrival. Nellie set down Lockwood's tea, and he thanked em before taking a sip.

“Oh my god, this is amazing.” He said, turning to Nellie. “How did you do that? I've never tasted anything like it before.” You could see Nellie beam at Lockwood's praise, and you couldn't help but smile. “Secret recipe” was all Nellie said before ey flounced back behind the counter.

Lockwood chuckled, taking another sip. “George- one of my housemates, would love em. He's really into cooking too- makes all sorts of elaborate meals that always taste amazing.” You chuckled, looking back at Nellie. “Even I don't know what Nellie puts in there- ey've never told me.”

“If there's anyone who could get the recipe out of Nellie, it's George. He's an insanely good cook, and he loves tea more than the average person.” You both laughed softly before Lockwood spoke up again.

“Speaking of George, do you have a phone I could use to call home? Just to tell my housemates where I am.” “Oh, of course! Follow me.” With a distressed whine from Bruce, who had to depart from your lap, you got up off you chair and led a blanket-clad Lockwood over to the front desk, where your store phone was located. “Thank you so much, I should be quick.” He said, picking the phone up. “Don't worry about it, take as much time as you need.” You assured him. “I'll be right over there stocking some classics if you need me.” He nodded, and you walked back to where you had been dutifully stocking the beautiful new editions of Pride and Prejudice, making a mental note to leave one aside to purchase later for your own personal collection.

You were still within earshot, so you could hear most of the conversation that Lockwood was having (not that you were purposefully eavesdropping, of course- it was very quiet in the store so it was very hard to try and not hear his conversation. You did try, though.) Lockwood's conversation started with a “Hi George, I wanted to let you know that I'm ok-” before Lockwood was promptly cut off by a loud voice shouting at him, causing Lockwood to jump and have to hold the phone away from his ear for a moment.

“Hello to you too, Luce. Look, I'm fine- I got caught in the storm and *someone* broke my umbrella on that case last week so I had to seek shelter before it got too bad. Don't worry- I'm at that bookstore in town… The one George has been wanting to check out? Read Rose? The staff has been very nice and helped me to warm back up but I'm not sure when I'll be able to come home with how the storm is going.” A moment of silence followed as someone- Lucy, you assumed- spoke to Lockwood. The quiet was broken only by the sound of books being pushed into their respective slots on the shelves.

“No, no, Lucy, you are not coming to get me. I don't care if you broke my umbrella, I won't allow you to walk over here in the rain- Lucy? Lucy?!” And then Lockwood let out a frustrated sigh and put the phone back down on the receiver. You looked back up at him, stifling a laugh at his exasperated expression. “I guess one of my housemates is coming to retrieve me.” He laughed, running a hand through his still-wet hair as he looked outside at the still raging storm. “From what I could hear, they sound very stubborn.” He chuckled. “Oh, she is. Lucy is insanely stubborn, believe me.” You laughed, liking the picture you were putting together in your head of this Lucy already. “To be fair, something tells me you're fairly stubborn yourself.” You chuckled. Lockwood gasped, putting a hand to his heart. “You wound me.” He said, and you both fell in to laughter.

Your laughs subsided after a moment, and you fell into a comfortable silence as you stocked and Lockwood walked around, perusing the aisles of books. You two stayed like that for a couple of minutes, and you had never been more content to just be quiet with someone before. “Now I understand why George has been bugging me to visit here for so long. We haven't had much time- cases have been piling up so George is either at home or at the Archives most of the time these days.” You nodded in understanding as he took a book off a shelf near you and examined the cover.

“I get it. Not the agency work- I don't have any Talents. The stress, I mean. My grandmother owned this place and passed it down to me when she passed. Every day there's something new to take care of or a new problem that comes up.” You laughed as you put the last book on the shelf. Lockwood laughed as well. “I know exactly what you mean. You love it though, don't you?” He asked, turning to you. He smiled as your eyes met his, and you gave him a smile in return. “Yeah,” You said softly. “I really do.”

He grinned, and was opening his mouth to say something when there was a sudden noise at the door, and then there was a borderline soaked girl holding an umbrella standing breathless in the doorway. This must be Lucy, you thought to yourself. She was obviously righteously pissed, her hair dripping as she tried desperately to control the bangs that were matted to her forehead. “Lockwood, you idiot.” She said, shoving the umbrella at Lockwood and turning to face you. She sent a look Lockwood's way, which you translated to say something like “who is this?”. Lockwood smiled.

“Lucy, this is [name], owner of Read Rose Books. She and her friend Nellie have been very welcoming and helped me to get warm. [Name], this is my associate, Lucy Carlyle.” Lucy rolled her eyes, elbowing Lockwood in the ribs and whispering something like “you can just introduce me as your friend, you dickhead” before she turned her attention to you, smiled, and stuck out her hand for you to shake. You did, softly saying “nice to meet you”, as did Lucy. “Thank you for taking care of this one.” Lucy said after your handshake had ended, pointing to Lockwood. You laughed. “It was no problem at all, really.”

Lockwood moved to return the blanket you you, but you refused. “You need it more than I do. Just make sure to return it whenever you can, ok?” He smiled appreciatively, nodding in understanding before Lucy grabbed him by the arm ans hauled him to the door. “Thank you again!” Lockwood yelled at the same time Lucy said “Have a nice night!”, and then they were out the door and the shop was silent again.

Nellie was there within seconds, pressing a warm cup of cocoa into your hand. “I'm never getting that blanket back, am I?” You asked em softly. “Probably not, no.” Ey agreed.

---

It was a week until you saw Anthony Lockwood again.

It was sunny outside this time, and you had a pretty nice crowd going inside the small Read Rose venue. You were just finishing up a customer's transaction, barely had the words “have a good one” out of your mouth, when you saw him enter the store. He had on the same outfit, but his hair was more styled, in a totally not attractive way. He was entering the shop with someone who you didn't recognize. They were slightly shorter, with brown skin and curly dark hair and glasses.

You noticed the second that Lockwood found you, watching his eyes light up and a smile form on his face as he waved. You waved back and returned the smile when you saw what Lockwood was carrying in his left hand.

“I was thinking I'd never see that blanket again.” You joked as Lockwood and his companion walked up to the front counter. Lockwood chuckled. “I see how little faith you have in me.” He spoke as he passed the blanket over to you. “Well, she's not exactly unfounded. Remember that time I leant you a sweatshirt and I didn't get it back for a month?” You laughed as you placed the folded blanket on a shelf beneath the counter, not seeing Lockwood sharply elbow his companion in the ribs.

“Anyways, [Name], this is my best friend and business associate, George Karim. He's the one I told you about that's really good at cooking. ” You reached out your hand for George to shake, but he ignored it and turned to examine your store. Within seconds, he was walking away to an aisle that had caught his eye, leaving you behind with Lockwood as you yelled out a rushed, “it was nice to meet you!”

Lockwood smiled apologetically. “Don't mind him. He's au- he can be a bit brash, but he's a good guy, once you get to know him.” You smiled back as you waved your hand in a dismissing manner. “Don't worry about it. I hope I do. Get to know him, that is. Lockwood & Co. seems like a very fun bunch.”

All Lockwood could do was smile before George returned, informing you that they would be back soon but they had a case that night that they had to prepare for. You nodded in understanding. “I'll look forward to your next visit. Be safe out there.” One last dazzling smile from Lockwood and he was gone, being borderline pushed outside by George as you laughed.

---

It went on like that for weeks- at least once a week, Anthony Lockwood would wander into your shop, only once or twice actually buying a book. You got to know each other fairly well- you learned that he hated sugar in his tea, that he always wore pink socks, that he didn't always wear suits, and that he started wearing [favorite color] ties whenever he came to visit after you told him it was your favorite color.

You learned that his favorite genres were classics and mystery (and that he had a bit of an obsession with gossip magazines). Often times, he would come in right before closing a couple times a week and sit and read with you to pass the time before you closed and walked you to your flat a block away.

Every time this happened, Nellie would leave work a half an hour before you and give you a set of totally non-subtle winks before flitting off into the sunset. Lockwood never seemed to notice eir suggestive winks, and if he did, he never appeared too flustered.

Nellie would corner you every morning after, grilling you for every detail. “Why do you even care?” You would say, laughing as you unlocked the storefront. “Because a super hot guy is obviously falling for my best friend!” Ey would exclaim, and you would roll your eyes and laugh it away, making sure to change the subject while you tried not to dwell on the possibility that Nellie was right.

---

“Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite bookseller. Do you ever take a day off?” You laughed from your perch on one of the bookshelf ladders, looking down to see Lockwood standing below you, a smile on his face and his hands on his hips. You laughed. “Hi, Lockwood. To what do I owe the pleasure?” You bent over, grabbing a book to put up on the top shelf.

“I was sent by George to search for a book he was looking for.” Came the reply, not an uncommon excuse. You turned to reach for another book to stock, but you realized that Lockwood was holding out a book for you. “Thank you.” You said softly, and he looked up from the synopsis of a book in his hand to smile at you. “Of course. It seems you're a bit of a workaholic- I'd love to help in any way I can.” You laughed as you shelved the book.

“You're one to talk. Pretty much every time you come in here you've got that getup on and intense bags under your eyes.” You joked as you descended the ladder, taking the empty box from Lockwood's hands.

“Well, one needs to be a little bit obsessed to lead a top agency, don't they?” He asked, following you to the cafe. Nellie brightened as ey saw Lockwood trailing after you, calling out and asking if Lockwood wanted anything. “Yes, please, Nellie. Could you by any chance make your secret recipe tea to go? I really need to get going, but I was in the area and I just wanted to stop by.” Nellie smiled. “Aye aye, captain.” Ey said before they started the tea making process.

“I thought you came in to look for a book for George.” You said, turning to him with an eyebrow raised and a smile on your face. You giggled as you watched Lockwood flush. “Ah, yes, well, you see-” He was so caught up in his mumbling that he didn't realize that Nellie had appeared next to him, a bag in eir hand. “Jesus, Nellie.” Lockwood jumped, and Nellie chuckled. “Not Jesus- people do often get us confused.” Nellie joked before pushing the bag in front of him.

“What's this?” Lockwood asked, cocking a brow. "A gift for you, George and Lucy. For being such great patrons.” Lockwood smiled. “You really don't have to-” Lockwood started to speak, but Nellie interrupted him. “I insist.” Ey said before turning and running away before Lockwood could fight anymore.

Lockwood turned to you and scoffed. You chuckled. “Ey really like making baked goods for people.” You explained. Lockwood smiled, and the two of you lapsed into a comforting silence, taking in the slow crowd that filled in and out of Read Rose Books.

After a moment, Lockwood broke the silence. “Are you- would you be amenable to visiting Portland Row tonight?” His question caught you off guard, but you smiled nonetheless. “I could be convinced. Why? What's in Portland Row?” You asked, turning to look at him. He smiled softly, a soft flush dusting his cheeks. “Lockwood & Co. We just finished a pretty big successful case so we're throwing a small get together at the house, if you wanted to come?” He asked, and you could sense the nerves radiating off of him. You smiled, nudging his shoulder as you turned to face away from him, trying to draw attention away from the blush that was slowly spreading across your face.

“I'd love to.”

eeeek thank you so much for reading!! pls leave feedback, it truly makes my day :) also if you want to request or see my other works, my masterlist is linked in my about me post which is pinned :)

I love you all so much, remember to stay hydrated, and I hope yall have an amazing day!!! mwah

xoxo linnie <3