#these kids r definitely still alive

[r7inyz]

greetings after a bit of art hiatus i return with my fnaf MCI designs. please don't kill them (doing charlie emily and cassidy later...)

silly guys

[atomicami]

charity work

contractor!abby anderson x joel’s daughter!reader

- summary: it’s the day of the holiday bake sale, and abby’s craving something sweeter than the desserts you’re selling. (part 3)

- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, contractor/engineer!abby, texas living, no sarah, joel and jerry are both alive, jerry is not a doctor, reader has a business degree, family & work drama, semi-public sex, pet names instead of y/n, kinda roughdom!abby??, oral & fingering (r!receiving), cockblocking, strap usage (r!receiving), abby hits it from the back 🕺, edging, some mirror play, some degrading, abby referring to the strap as her cock, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything else

- author’s note: merry christmas everyone! what better way to celebrate it than with a contractor abby fic am i right? i hope y’all enjoy this one 🤍

previous parts: quick fix, surprise visit

Seven in the morning, it's only the crack of dawn, and you’re spending the early hours of the day at the farmers market, setting up for the annual holiday bake sale.

Your hands were full of all the pastries and desserts you’d spent baking yesterday while Joel was carrying the chairs and tables to set up with. You tried to walk as carefully as you could to keep yourself from tripping on your knee-high boots or spilling anything on the red sweater dress you had on. When you arrived at your spot, your dad already had everything set up for you.

“Jeez kiddo, thought you’d never make it here in time with them boot heels ya got on,” your dad joked, opening the second folding chair he had in his hand and placing it behind the table.

“Well Dad, I figured I’d make myself presentable for the bake sale, don’t you think?” you replied, carefully setting down the load of sweets on the table.

Well, if we’re being honest here, there’s only one person in particular you’re planning to make an impression on today, and she still hasn’t arrived.

For a moment, you look over to the empty spot where Abby & Jerry are settled before you begin to unpack and arrange your pastries. It’s no surprise to you that Abby still hasn’t arrived yet. After that last-minute encounter you had with her at her place, you figured that she’d be knocked out for at least another hour.

And you were definitely right. About an hour later, Abby and Jerry finally arrived, right before the bake sale officially began.

Joel leans close to you as the two of you watch them quickly rush to set their stand up. “Look at ‘em, I wonder what made Jerry n’ his kid so late to the sale…”

You honestly couldn’t help but laugh to yourself about it too. The fact that Abby and Jerry were now just setting their things up while everyone else was ready was just too funny to you. It seemed like karma got back to her after her need to call you at 1 in the morning that night.

Once the two had their table set up, the bake sale finally started.

You looked over at the table that stood in front of you. A variety of desserts that you’ve made was all spread out on top of it. You’ve spent the past day making every single dessert you could think of: brownies, cinnamon rolls, muffins, even a whole plate of peach pie, because it truly can’t be a Southern bake sale if someone’s table doesn’t have a peach pie.

And lastly, there was the round tray of flan that you made. Out of all the desserts you’ve made, the flan made you the most nervous to sell. Given that this dessert came from your mother’s side of the family, you’ve decided to make it exclusively for family events or traditions out of the fear that others wouldn’t like it.

Nonetheless, your dad practically begged you to make it for the bake sale, and you couldn’t help but oblige.

A couple hours of the bake sale pass by and it feels like years to you. Almost half of your sweets have been sold, which was good, but you can’t help but wish that this community event could be a little more…interesting to you.

And luckily, Abby was about to make her appearance to change that.

While you were distracted with the customers, Abby was watching you from across the room, patiently waiting for Joel to leave the stand to get you by yourself. She had her own plan to be able to get even with you after the stunt you pulled onto her in her office.

Because if there’s anything sweeter than a Texas holiday bake sale, it’s a fresh slice of payback.

Once she noticed that you were by yourself at the table, she excused herself to her now distracted father to walk over to your stand.

You felt a tap on your shoulder from your side and turned around to see Abby standing next to you. “Got some pretty sweet looking pastries here princess, mind if I have a taste?”

“Abby…” you tell her sternly. “You know you’re not supposed to be this close to me right now, especially with both of our dads around.”

Abby simply ignores your warning as she walks around your table, admiring all of the pastries you had set up for sale. “I know that, but I’m just kinda craving something sweet,” she says as she slightly dips the tip of her finger into the white frosting of the cinnamon roll pan before lifting it up to her mouth and sucking it clean.

You roll your eyes at her, grabbing the tray and pulling it away from her. “Well, unless you’re going to buy something, then you shouldn’t be here,” you warn her again.

“Actually…I was craving something a little sweeter than these…” she replies with a smirk, slowing down her pace as she walks around your table.

It took you a while to get her intentions, but the way her eyes were flickering between you and the table, you instantly got the message.

Your eyes widened in shock and you began to shake your head. “No, Abby, don’t you fucking dare—“

But it was too late. Within a matter of seconds, Abby dropped down to her knees and lifted the red tablecloth before crawling under the table.

You tried to kick her away so she could get out, but there wasn’t enough time to do so, because Joel was already coming your way with one of his friends next to him.

“Hey, sweetheart, you remember Martin, right? Used to work f’me when I was startin’ up the company,” he tells you as he points at him.

“Yes, hi Martin, it’s good to see you again.” you tell him with a smile.

You’re trying your best to keep your cool right now, but it’s practically impossible for you to do so now that Abby’s lifting up your sweater dress and spreading your legs open underneath the tablecloth.

Your dad looks over to Martin while gesturing him to all of your pastries arranged on the table. “My kid right here baked up all these sweets for the sale today. But this…” he pauses for a moment, pointing at the pan of flan that stood neatly at the front. “This custard thing right here’s the best thing she could ever make, I’ll tell ya that.”

“That so?” his friend asked, serving himself up a slice. “Whatcha got here, kid?”

“It’s flan, sir. I-It’s my mother’s recipe.” you reply to him, trying not to strain your voice as Abby shifts your underwear to the side from underneath.

You watch the man in front of you take a bite of the dessert, smiling after he’s fully eaten it. “Well I must say, this is one of the best desserts I’ve had in this here bake sale so far.” he said before pulling out a five-dollar bill from his wallet and handing it to you.

At that moment, when you were about to lean forward to grab the money, was when Abby’s hands grabbed ahold of your hips and pushed you back down onto the chair, causing the rest of the table to shake.

You gasp at the sudden impact, and your jaw practically fucking drops once she inserts two fingers into your pussy.

It could have been any other time when she could’ve done that move, but no. She just had to fucking do it right in front of your father, out of all people.

Regardless, you try your best to compose yourself and attempt to cover it up. “S-Sorry about that, I was trying to get up but, my leg kind of fell asleep…must be from sitting down all day.” you said to the other man, extending out your hand to take the bill from him before inserting it in the black cash box that was in front of you.

“S’ no worries ma’am,” the man simply says before waving you goodbye, and looking over to your dad to shake his hand. “Good seeing you as always Joel.” he says to him before walking off.

Your dad shakes his hand back before turning to face you. “You alright sweetheart? Seemed like you were actin’ a bit off just now.” he asked you with a concerned expression on his face.

You simply nod at him, genuinely trying to appear normal, and ignore the fact that Abby’s thick fingers were slowly pumping in and out of your cunt right now. If it weren’t for the loud atmosphere of the event, you’re almost certain that anyone could easily hear the squelching noises it made every time her fingers moved.

“Y-yeah, Dad, sorry…s’just a lot of people here this time.” you tell him nervously.

“Well, if ya need a break, I can try to cover for a bit if—“

“No!” you exclaimed, placing your hands in front of him to keep him from getting closer to you. “N-no, it’s okay, Dad,” you said to him in a quieter tone. “I’ll be alright, promise.”

Your dad opens his mouth to respond but is cut off by a barking sound, which progressively gets louder by the second. The two of you looked around to see what it was, and you seriously couldn’t believe it.

It was Alice, Abby’s dog, and by the looks of it, she was approaching your table.

You slightly flinch a bit once Alice jumps up at your table, barking up at the two of you before quickly getting down and sniffing under the tablecloth.

Joel walks over to the front of the table where the dog is in an attempt to shoo her away. “What the hell are ya doing here?! Get on out of here! Go on, get!”

You’d expect Abby to at least try to help you get her dog out, given the vulnerable position you were in right now, but she doesn’t budge about it. Instead, she only quickens the pace of her fingers inside you and moves closer to you to latch her mouth onto your throbbing clit. You want to help your dad out, you really do, but all you could focus on was trying to be quiet and not let a single moan or whimper leave your lips.

As much as Joel was trying to get the dog away from the table, she still wouldn’t move, she knew that Abby was under there, as if she could have smelled her from miles away.

“Why the hell aren’t ya leavin’?” he says to himself as he continues to move her away. “What are you tryin’ to find there?”

Your dad starts to get closer to the table now, and you can just feel your heart racing. The closer he got to it the faster your heart kept beating. This could be it. Once your dad was about to see what was under the table, it was over for the both of you.

But to your luck, as Joel was about to lift up the tablecloth, Jerry was already making his way there to get ahold of his dog. Talk about perfect timing, right?

“There you are, Alice, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” he says, leaning forward to pick up her leash from the ground.

Your dad scoffs at him and crosses his arms in disbelief. “Try to get a hold of your mutt, Jerry. Damn dog near knocked down my daughter’s table.”

“Tough talk for someone who just lost two of his clients last week to my company,” Jerry replies, clutching Alice’s leash in his hand. “I’d spend less time worrying about me and more time trying to keep your clientele if I were you, Joel.”

As blissed out as you were feeling from Abby’s mouth and fingers right now, you could still visibly see the anger rushing through your father’s veins right now.

“Don’t act so innocent, Jerry, you know damn well that you offered my clients a better deal for them.” your dad replied before pausing for a moment. “You know, you shouldn’t have gone after them, because I just got a deal to work with the Mitchell family next week. Haven’t you been eyeing them for months now?”

The two of them bicker for what feels like ages. At this point, your brain is just tuning them out, still completely blissed on the movements of Abby’s tongue rolling up and down on your clit, her fingers sliding in and out of your cunt so smoothly while her other hand grips your inner thigh to keep them open. The pleasure she was giving you under that table right now is so intense that you could seriously care less about your surroundings right now. All you wanted at that moment more than anything was to cum undone into her mouth.

“You know what, Joel? I don’t have time for this right now,” he tells him before pausing to hesitate for a moment. “I’m trying to find my daughter, have either of you seen her around?”

Oh, you knew damn well where she was.

Your dad laughs and shakes his head. “Jesus, Jerry. Can’t find your kid either? Seems like you’ve got to put her on a leash too, don’t you think?”

However, the pleasure that Abby was giving you was so intense that you didn’t realize that her name had now slipped out of your mouth.

“Oh, my god, Abby…” you say to yourself before quickly gasping and covering your mouth. You’re finally snapped back into reality as you look up to see Joel and Jerry staring back at you.

“Do you know where she is?” Jerry asked, raising an eyebrow with concern.

“O-Oh um, yeah, I-I think I saw her a few rows down, I-If you can find her there…” you tell him, trying to compose yourself once again.

Jerry simply thanks you in response before walking off with Alice alongside him.

“About damn time he left,” your dad says, watching him walk off. “Can’t stand that man for the life of me.”

Joel’s phone starts to ring moments later, leading him to pull it out of his pocket to check who it is. “Shit, s’ one of my clients…” he says with a sigh before looking up at you. “You sure you’ll be alright by yourself, sweetheart?”

You open your mouth to say yes at first, but then take a moment to reconsider. “A-Actually, do you think you could watch the stand for a bit? I could use a break.”

Abby immediately pauses her movements upon hearing that, removing her mouth and fingers out of you. You try not to whine at the loss.

Your dad nods in response. “ ‘Course I can, just let me take this call real quick, yeah? I’ll be there in just a second.” he says before briefly walking off to take the phone call.

You wait until your dad is out of sight to lift up the tablecloth, seeing the blonde below you with a confused expression on her face. “Why the hell did you tell him that you were leaving?” she whispers to you.

“Because I’m not gonna be fucking sitting here being teased by your mouth all day.” you whisper back to her, trying to keep your voice down. “If you’re going to fuck me here, then you’re gonna do it right.” you pause for a moment to check if the coast was clear. “My dad’s still gone, hurry up and go to the bathroom before he sees you. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

You watch the blonde roll her eyes before pulling the tablecloth down, quickly crawling out of the table and getting back up on her feet. She also checks to see if Joel is still gone before leaving your side and rushing off to the bathroom.

You take a quick moment to adjust your underwear and your dress underneath the table before slowly getting back up to your feet as well. Within minutes, Joel returns to your table and takes a seat down in the chair next to yours.

“Alright so, everything is set up and served for the customers, all you have to do is take the money they give you and put it in the cash box.” you tell him before turning around to leave, only to pause for a moment and looking back at him. “And don’t eat any of the pastries, alright?”

Your dad puts your hands up in defense. “Can’t make a promise ‘bout that, kiddo.”

You simply roll your eyes and playfully punch at his arm before pushing your chair in and leaving the table. Once your dad was out of sight, you began to walk a little faster, now rushing to get to the bathroom with Abby.

After roaming around the market for a bit, you successfully find the bathroom. You lean into the door for a moment and knock twice, hoping that you found the right one.

“It’s open,” Abby calls out from inside.

You twist the knob and open the door, just enough for you to squeeze yourself inside before closing it and turning the lock. You turn around to see Abby leaning against the vanity near the sink, arms crossed with that same stupid smirk on her face. “How’d you know it was me?” you ask her.

“Are you kidding me?” she says, taking her weight off of the vanity. “I can hear those boots of yours from miles away.”

You roll your eyes at her in response “You’re so unbelievable, you know that?” you tell her. “If my dad had lifted up that tablecloth, we would’ve been done for.”

The smirk on her face grows a little wider, and you can just visibly see it happening. “I was just trying to get a taste of something sweet, princess. That’s all I wanted.”

Her cockiness was seriously driving you over the edge right now. However, you still can’t help but get turned on by her when she acts like this.

Feeling that same sense of boldness come through you again, you take a step forward and grab her by the collar of her jacket, pulling her close to you. “Then how about you finish what you started?” you whisper out to her.

She leans in closer to you, both of your lips being just mere inches away from touching.

“Don’t mind if I do.” she whispers back to you.

You lean in to seal the gap, connecting your lips with hers in an intense kiss. Your hands remain tightly gripped on her jacket, while Abby’s hands run down your body, stopping at your hips. She then turns you around to where your back is now pressed against the marble counter.

Her lips pull away from yours for a moment to flip you around, now with your back facing her chest.

“What—What are you doing?” you ask her, trying to turn around to get a look at her.

“You said you wanted me to fuck you right, didn’t you?” she says, taking off her jacket and rolling up the long sleeves of the dark green shirt she had on. “Well, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Abby grabs your hips and bends you over on the counter before lifting your dress up and pushing your panties to the side again, revealing your wet pussy to her. “Jesus, she looks even wetter than before.” she mutters to herself as she gently rubs her thumb on your slit, eliciting a whine from you in response.

Abby moves her hand to herself to unbuckle her tool belt, letting it fall to the ground. She then unzips her cargo pants, pulling out the thick strap she had tucked underneath her boxers before teasing the tip of it in between your puffy folds.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp out, your pussy already starting to clench around nothing. “You brought it, didn’t you?”

Abby lets out a scoff, looking back at you through the mirror. “Of course I did. Been dying to fill this sweet pussy up ever since I first came over to your place.”

You then feel her grab ahold of the strap with one hand and position it against your entrance before slowly pushing the tip in, quietly moaning to herself as she watches your pussy engulf the tip.

A whimper escapes from your mouth as she pushes a few more inches of her cock in you, now reaching halfway. “Oh god, Abby…I-I think it's too big—“

Her other hand grabs a hold of your neck, pulling you up towards her. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” she says into your ear. “Is my cock too big for you? Can you not take it like a big girl?”

“N-No— I mean yes, fuck! I-I can take it, Abs…”

“That’s what I thought.” she mutters back to you, setting you back down on the marble counter as she pushes the rest of her cock inside you without warning.

She keeps her strap nestled inside you for what feels like ages, waiting for your pussy to accommodate itself to the girth of her cock. She tries to move back a bit, but your cunt keeps resisting the toy, sucking it back in.

Abby grunts in frustration and slaps your ass, the sudden sting causing you to flinch a bit. “Quit doing that. I’m not gonna be able to fuck you right if you don’t relax that cunt already.”

“F-Fuck, Abby, m’trying to, please—“

“Jesus, must I do everything myself?” she replies, reaching around your waist to rub your throbbing clit, causing you to moan in pleasure at the stimulation. Abby leans back a bit as she continues rubbing your clit, watching as your pussy visibly relaxes around her cock, now giving her the freedom to move it in and out slowly.

“There we go, just like that now, atta girl…”

Abby begins to fuck you at a painfully slow pace at first, slow to the point where you were now pushing your hips back against her as an indication for her to go faster.

“Whoa there…desperate for more now, aren’t we princess?” she says, instantly speeding up her pace. “If you wanted me to go faster, you could have just asked.”

“I-I know b-but…f-feels too good…” you slur out to her, face pressed against the cold marble as the rest of your body moves up and down with her thrusts.

“Oh, who am I kidding? You’re so drunk on my cock that you can’t even form a coherent sentence right now. Fucking slut…”

Moments later, Abby was now fucking you relentlessly fast to the point where you had to grip the counter to steady yourself. You seriously felt like you could fall off, but honestly, you could also care less about it. You were so close to reaching your peak now, and as long as Abby didn’t stop, you’d be perfectly fine.

That is until…a knock on the door interrupts the both of you.

“Occupied!” Abby calls out from inside, not stopping her pace.

“Abby? Are you in there?”

“Dad?!”

You gasp at the sound of Jerry’s voice, and Abby shushes you and quickly covers your mouth, now slowing down her pace. You whine at the sudden lack of movement, now feeling your orgasm fade away.

“Abby, what’s going on? Someone told me they saw you walk in here. Are you okay?” her dad asks with some concern.

“Y-Yeah Dad, I’m fine, I just—“ Abby stammers out for a moment as she then turns on the sink with her other hand, trying to come up with an excuse on the spot. “S-Someone dropped a cupcake on me. I-I'm trying to wash it out.”

You giggle quietly behind Abby’s hand, only for her to shush you and grab your ass harshly with the other, causing you to wince at the slight pain.

“Alright honey, just come back when you’re done, okay?”

“Yeah, Dad, I’ll be out in a bit!”

Once the sound of Jerry’s footsteps is gone, Abby lets out a sigh of relief, turning off the sink before removing her hand from your mouth.

“Almost got me caught there, princess.” she says to you, now speeding up her thrusts again. “If you pull that again, I might not let you cum at all.”

“No, fuck—please Abby, I-I’m getting close…I need you to let me cum.” you whine out to her, tightening your grip on the marble counter.

“Oh yeah? Are you getting close there, baby?” she asks, to which you nod in response.

Without stopping her thrusts, Abby grabs you by the neck with one hand, lifting your upper body up in front of the mirror so you can see her as well as yourself. “Then I want you to watch yourself cum. Watch yourself cum on my cock like the needy slut you are.”

You try your best to move or look away, but Abby simply moves your face back to the mirror with her hand. “Don’t fucking do that again. Look away one more time and I’ll pull out.”

All you could do was whine and nod in response, keeping your gaze on the mirror. Your eyes then trail down to the bottom where Abby was fucking you. You could just see her cock sliding in and out of your pussy so easily, and just the sight of it alone is making you want to cum even more.

“Oh fuck, Abby—m-gonna…m’gonna cum!” you exclaim out to her, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the tip of her strap keeps touching your g spot.

“G-go ahead, princess, cum on my cock like a good girl.” she grunts out, moving her hand to now cover your mouth.

Within seconds you cum undone onto the strap with a muffled moan, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as your cunt clenches and creams all over it. Your body quickly goes limp and static fills your brain as you try to catch your breath.

Abby then gently sets you back down on the counter before moving both of her hands down to your hips. She then slowly pulls her cock out of your pussy, causing you to whine at the loss of it.

Despite that your legs are trembling, you try to get up, but Abby keeps you down. “Wait, just give me a second…I still have one more thing left to do.” she tells you, and all you do is just nod in response, still feeling insanely drunk from your orgasm.

Abby quickly drops down to her knees and spreads your ass open, groaning at the sight of your fucked out pussy. Without hesitation, she dives into your pussy to lick you clean, taking in every single bit of your thick release into her mouth. Once she was finished, she got back up on her feet. “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” she murmurs to herself, wiping her mouth with her thumb before sucking it clean, making sure she’s got every bit of you on her tongue.

Once you’ve recovered from your orgasm, Abby helps you off of the counter, fixing up your underwear and dress before turning you back around to face her. “Do you think you could uh, clean me up there?” she says before looking down and back up at you, indicating for you to clean up her strap.

“Don’t mind if I do,” you tell her with a smirk, getting down on your knees to suck onto her strap, tasting yourself in the process.

Abby lets out a groan as she watches you suck her strap clean. “Fuck, you look so good like this…” she mutters out to you, running a hand through your hair. “I should make you do that more often.”

You remove your mouth from her strap with a ‘pop’ sound and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand before standing up to face her. “I wouldn’t mind doing that for you.” you reply to her, leaning in to give her a quick kiss as she tucks her strap back into her pants.

“So um, should you leave first or—“

“You should go first,” you tell her, cutting off her sentence. “You’ve been gone longer. Don’t wanna keep your dad waiting anymore now.”

Abby nods in agreement, reaching down to grab her tool belt and jacket before getting back up to kiss you goodbye. “I’ll see you around, sweet girl.” she tells you before unlocking the knob and opening the door to let herself out of the bathroom, now leaving you on your own.

You wait inside for a few minutes before shutting off the lights and leaving, quickly making your way back to your table. To your surprise, you return to see your dad standing with a slice of flan in his hands. “Dad…I told you not to eat any of the pastries!”

Your dad sets the plate down and holds up his in defense. “Alright, sweetheart, you got me there.” he says in defeat before reaching out his front pocket and pulling out a five-dollar bill. “Here’s my contribution then.” he says as he hands you the five-dollar bill.

“Okay okay,” you tell him as you grab the bill from his hands. “I’ve got it from here now, Dad, thanks.”

Once you settle back into your seat, you notice your phone buzzing on the table with a text. You pick up your phone and see that the message is from Abby.

“Abby: Wild Randy’s next Saturday?”

You smile to yourself upon reading the text before looking up at her from across the room, seeing her with that same smirk on her face once again. You look back down at your phone and type out your response.

“You: I’ll be there.”

Looks like you’ve got some plans next weekend after all.

- a/n: oh lord this one killed me to write omg. i hope y’all liked it though! let me know if i should do a part 4 (i might tbh)

merry christmas again everyone! wishing you all the best 🤍🎄

requested tags 🏷️: @whore4abby @ourautumn86 @abbyscherry @nyctophiliq @aouiaa @abbysfavewh0rx @lia-winther @grooviestcowboy @pretty-prrincess-13 @iwillkilyou @erinsdeluluworld @elliens4 @totallyghostdgirl @sirenbxby @bellaramslover @echostinn @uraesthete @cherrycolouredflunk @whorn3y @thatonementallyillsimp @elliewilliamsmunch @gaptoothedlesbo @deadbolted @mochiivqi @floptron @swtsuna @naomis-daydream @hunnybunnyhazel @paprikahoernchen @bbglmfao @thesevi0lentdelights @mostlyhornyandsad @littlegingerperson @ur-fav-pixi @abbysgirlll

(striked means i couldn’t tag 😔)

2023 © atomicami | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

[augustvandyne]

Hey! could you please right a natasha x wife r? Idk if you remember when the avengers have to take refuge and they have to go to clints house (he's reluctant bc he has a secret family only nat knows about)? well could you write it so it's actually nats family that no one knows about? and she's super reluctant to take them there

everyone's alive and no one knew she had a family (not even clint) and the timeline is SUPER wack bc plot twist, yelenas already there. the avengers are hurt nat didn't tell them and they're kinda mad too

nats wife doesn't like having them there bc it's her home and they're putting them all in more danger then they normally are in. the kids don't like them either bc they 'take their mom away' or something like that (but the kids adooore their aunt yelena)

this is super long I'm sorry but the idea has been plaguing my head and I feel like it would be fun to read about. thank you and have a great day!

hi! yes! don’t worry about it being too long, i’ll listen to and write whatever thoughts you have.

safehouse

You and Yelena were baking a cake when pack of Avengers came piling through the front door.

You were expecting Natasha later in the week, and alone. Not with the danger that is literally standing in your doorway.

That was the best part of this place, there was no danger. Nat left work at work, and when she came home all she focused on was her family—you, Yelena, and your two lovely children.

So you were definitely surprised, and not happy, to see the other five Avengers.

You walk further into the living room, and when Nat sees you, her face is immediately apologetic.

“Babe—“

“Who are all these people?” Yelena comes and stands beside you in the living room, staring up at all the men.

“This is Steve, Clint, Tony, Thor, and Bruce. They’re my friends,” Natasha shrugs.

“Uh, no, we’re not your friends now,” Clint crosses his arms with sass.

“They’re the Avengers,” You correct your wife. “And they shouldn’t be here.”

“Listen, I wasn’t going to even bring them here, but—“

“It’s our fault, ma’am,” Steve interrupted.

“Oh, here we go,” Tony throws his hands in the air.

“What?” Steve whines.

“First the language, and now the manners. Good god,” Tony rolls his eyes.

“Okay, take it elsewhere. More preferably, back to where you came from,” You fake smile, earning a glare from Nat.

“Where are the kids?” Nat asks, and you get the feeling she needs to talk. Alone.

“Upstairs in the playroom. Yelena, why don’t you take them outside to play on the swing set?” You ask sweetly.

“Ah, gotcha,” Yelena gave a look to Natasha that said, good luck.

The kids say hello to Nat, made faces at the men still in your living room, and then squealed with joy out the door because their mama is home.

You looked away from the door and back up at the Avengers once again. Nat softly grabs you by the arm and pulls your towards the other side of the living room.

“What are they doing here, Nat?” You lean closer, your foreheads slightly touching.

“I had no other choice,” Natasha’s raspy voice makes it hard not to forgive her.

You sigh and purse your lips.

“Really,” Nat insists. “If there was any other choice, I would have made it. We just got into a little trouble, and need to camp out for a few days.”

You made a vow not to ask what trouble she was in, so you kept your mouth shut when she says this.

“Okay. But if there’s even a little bit of damage to the house, they are paying for it,” You lift your head up and walk back towards the group, Natasha following close behind.

Nat glances your way, then back at the boys, “We can stay here. But only for a few days.”

“So this is where Lady Natasha goes every time she takes off,” Thor nods.

“Yes. A home we didn’t even know about?” Bruce shakes his head.

“I can’t believe you never told me,” Clint looks genuinely hurt when Nat looks at him. “I thought we were friends.”

“Yeah, what he said,” Tony puts his hand on his chest.

You roll your eyes and head back to the kitchen before the cake burns, letting your wife deal with her friends/fellow Avengers.

You finish the frosting Yelena had started, and ice the cake once it comes out of the oven. You then start on dinner. Something easy everyone can enjoy—pasta.

Dinner goes about as well as you thought it would.

Nat and the kids catch up. She just saw them a week or so ago, so there isn’t much to catch up, but you love watching Natasha play and talk with the kids.

You try not to laugh as the kids keep making faces at the guys.

Your daughter starts to kick Tony in the shin, to which him and your daughter start having a staring contest.

“Okay, what are you guys doing?” Nat asked.

“Your tiny agent keeps kicking me,” Tony says, never taking his eyes off the smaller girl.

“Okay she’s not an agent, and it’s probably because you take her mother away every chance you get,” You sighed with frustration. “Good she’s kicking you, maybe you’ll leave then.”

“Y/n—“

“I’m sorry,” You look at your wife. “I said it was okay, even though you’re putting us it more danger. But, I will try to be civil, but only for Natasha.”

“Thank you.”

Later in the night you had assigned everyone to places in the house to spend the night.

Yelena had volunteered to spend the night with the kids, so at least two people could bunk in there, and it was fine by you because the kids adored Yelena.

So two people slept in Yelena’s room, you had one in the living room, and two in the guest room downstairs.

“They are mad at me, you know?” Nat brushed through her hair.

“They’ll get over it. It’s a safe house,” You wrap your arms around her waist from behind. “You are supposed to keep it secret.”

“I know,” Nat turns so you two are face to face. “I love you, and thank you for letting us stay here. We’ll be out of her in two days, tops.”

“Good,” You plant a kiss on the side of Natasha’s mouth.

“But I might not be back for a while,” Nat cups your cheek in her hand.

“I had a feeling,” You look down.

“I’ll just have to make it up to you.”

“How about you start now?” You lift a brow and squeal as your wife picks you up and puts you on the bed.

Danger aside, you loved having your wife back in your arms, and you were granted with just that from this crazy mission.

[hyperblue]

okay i got around and actually wrote it all down, so please enjoy: timkon clone twins au lets fucking go

— they are not technically twins, they're just two clones who happen to develop back to back at the same time, but those are just semantics since they were raised like brother and sister anyway; wendy is considered oldest but only because she was the first outta test tube (tim had to have a little breakdown moment while holding her in his arms before he was able to get jackie out too; wendy is the only person who actually cares about being oldest, jackie is not thrilled because "you're literally only 10 minutes older can you maybe chill")

— wendy's full name is gwendolyn stephanie drake, bc i believe that if tim Has to honor someone by giving their name to his child it should be steph, plus i am cackling at the thought of wendy naming all her social accounts "gwen stefani"; no one really ever calls her gwen tho, the only reason she's not just wendy in papers is because tim was a little pretentious; i also quite like gwendolyn lois but i don't think tim would actually go for it (kon could tho, if he were alive at the time)

— jackie is jackson bartholomew drake. i personally prefer to think that if tim gave it some time he would probably choose a different name, but he just really missed his dad at the moment (he missed everyone, really), and by the time he actually had enough mental stability to sit on it the kid was already pretty much established as jackie withing the family, so yeah. no one ever calls him jack btw, so it's fine

— they both quite like their names although they can't help but nudge their dad a little from time to time, being like "gwendolyn stefanie, dad, really? it's like you picked up a name on pinterest or some shit" ("language"); they are both referred to as "ducklings" within the family (dick was the first to do it, tim started doing the same by pure accident and then it just kinda stuck)

— wendy took a lot after janet drake genetic-wise, to the point where it almost rubs tim in a wrong way sometimes when she gets older — her hair is much lighter than her father's or brother's and doesn't really curl that much, although she's not as pale as tim and has a distinguish golden undertone to her skin; she also gets freckles in summer. tim is one of few people who can actually see kon in her without deliberate searching, especially when she smiles. she has his eyes though, and she leans more on a shorter side (short queen supremacy)

— jackie is pretty much kon in miniature, or at least he is if you don't know where to look. kon himself insists that jackie is a perfect mix of both him and tim, it's just that distinguish curly hair and golden-brown skin throw people off most of the time — jackie for sure has tim's nose and cheekbones, tim's high forehead, tim's sheepish smiles and tim's cunning smirks. he's also a bit leaner that kon as he gets older and also a little bit shorter, although he's still taller than both tim and wendy

— wendy is a certified horse girl, she took horse riding lessons since she was like five (she was begging tim for y e a r s really, at first he insisted on waiting till she was at least six but i guess her kryptonian powers kicked in a little earlier and it doubled down some of tim's parental anxiety, although he definitely was there for a first few lessons just to keep an eye on her). damian got her her own horse eventually, because of course he did. he is her favorite uncle ever since

— she's a true crime videos/podcasts enjoyer (that's how she bonds with her dad)

— jackie is very much into making paper collages since he was around eight years old and has made his first one in school for fathers day (tim has framed it immediately and set it on his table in the WE office; it's still there after years); he used to have a lot of social anxiety as a kid because of being homeschooled 'till first grade and being very attached to tim, and has found the process of making paper collages very soothing

— jackie graduates college eventually (alfred: "thank god. at least one of them")

— they both eventually got into photography like their dad, but jackie is taking more of a professional approach, whereas wendy is mostly doing it for the sake of keeping the memories; that's why she has a small digital camera that she always carries around (it's covered in cute sparkling stickers because duh)

— they are both pan and demisexual

— as i mentioned, the kids were homeschooled for a while, by which i mean that they never went to kindergarten because tim was too paranoid about any potential kryptonian superpowers kicking in anytime; the other reason was that tim's kind of a helicopter parent, especially after coming back from his brucequest, and he's very dependent on both of his kids

— yes it backfires later

— jackie loves his dad more than anything else in the world, and has spent most of his early childhood following him around and throwing tantrums the second tim was out of his sight (which was quite rare, to be fair, at least until tim had to get back to his job at the WE); tim is 90% sure that it has something to do with him being gone for a while to find and save bruce. it evens out a little as jackie gets older and starts going to school and then college, but he's still pretty much codependent, and any decision that he makes about his life ties back to "what would dad do; will it make dad proud/happy; what would dad want for me"

— wendy on the other hand is kon's daughter through and through, she admires him and looks up to him but she has a very complicated, conflicted feelings about her and her brother's circumstances of birth, making her anxious in a way that is like "oh my god am i being annoying what if he doesn't like me what if he looks at me and only sees a living proof of his humans rights violation should i consider never talking to him again god i HATE my dad", so most of her actual interactions with kon are quite awkward on both ends

— tim and kon do not get together until kids are around their late teens, so neither of them calls or really considers kon dad, even tho he definitely played a significant part in their upbringing as soon as he came around with the whole child-cloning situation. wendy was the first to call him dad not long after she moved to the kent's farm, which was an accident, really — she was trying out vigilantism for the first time and got her ass kicked bc lack of experience, and her first instinct at being cornered by a villain was to literally just call for dad (at the back of her mind she meant tim, because to their family kon was always just kon, but the moment he pulled her in and put his hand on the back of her head and said "it's okay, sweetheart, dad's here", nothing has ever made more sense to her than kon being her father. the thought was both thrilling and terrifying)

— tim is "dad", kon is "pa" (if that wasn't already obvious)

— also, yes. wendy eventually moves to the kent's farm to live with kon; more on that in some other post

— kon kind of inherited the kent's farm after both john and martha passed away; technically clack is still the one who owns it, but his and his family's life is mostly in metropolis and he didn't want the place he grew up in turn into an empty memorial of it's better days + he also knew how important it was to kon at the time to have a place he could always return to, so yeah, everyone won in this situation

[gladiatorcunt]

Modern coryo whos trying to sorta maybe manipulate his gf by being obsessed and then not reading her texts for 3 days but the gf is literally the same so it’ll be like

r: “heyyy” and then a day later he replies “heyaaa” and then it goes on like that for a week until he cracks and sends her 15 messages in the span of 4 minutes

cw: feminization/fem label “gf” but the reader is still only intended to be afab, the ask has she/her pronouns but i don’t use them in the writing, manipulation and toxic behavior, typical coryo/modern!coryo warnings, love bombing, not canon to the main au, black cat reader ish, reader has a shower in their dorm bc i say so 🤫, male masturbation

Now Coryo wouldn’t do this during your relationship, despite his best attempts to play it cool, you make him panic and he’s immediately resorting to rich boy love bombing (trips, those ridiculously expensive boxed roses, 999999999 rounds of oral on his yacht, a summer house, etc.) followed by baby trapping. He’s not stupid enough to try something like that deeper into your relationship, for him it’s about making sure the foundation is as solid as possible and not shaking it up.

This would really only happen before you even start dating, after he’s bumped into you in the dorms enough times to wear you down into giving him your number. He’s still in his “i have to the most mysterious person alive” mindset and he hasn’t quite shed the fuckboy persona yet. He doesn’t seek anybody out or anything, it was love at first sight with you unfortunately, he’ll just imply that that you’re another contact in a long list. (You’re the only one in his favorites 💀)

You’re smart enough to be wary, too involved in academics and proving yourself to go sniffing around Coriolanus Snow. You don’t really talk to a lot of people, and you’re not interested in a swarm of meaningless interactions. You’re just grateful that he stopped calling you so much, learning that you very much prefer texting. He’s the king of the “hey u up?” text, and you have the flattest look on your face as you reply “Yes.” and turn your phone face down. Exchanges like happen over and over.

Does your heart flutter when he insists on walking you to class and pecking your cheek at the door? Yes but you’ll roll your eyes and make a big deal out of wiping it off. Are you intrigued by how much he hauls ass to get you your coffee order whenever he senses that you need it (because he can, he’s like spiderman but lame)? Well, yes, but he must be playing some kind of game with you. Has a cliche bet with his fraternity brothers over your assumed virginity maybe. The more you’re determined to not fall for it, the more you find yourself slipping as the days go by.

Just when you turn your head when he pecks your cheek outside the lecture hall, expecting the gesture more than dreading it, he gives you a blank stare and turns on his heel. You take a second to blink and then shrug, it’s no skin off you back if Coriolanus decides to be normal for once. You definitely do not have a bit of a scowl throughout the entire session. (he nearly lost it when you didn’t react at the lack of a kiss, he kicked the wall and almost broke his foot)

He’s back to the “heyy” texts at random hours, responding to your “Hey.” that came a day later two days after that. He’s screaming into his pillow and pacing his grandma’am’s gardens, glaring at the staff pruning the shrubs. Coryo would rather die than admit defeat though, so he hardens his resolve. You’ll break eventually. You on the other hand are living normally, slurping ramen and working on essays. You’ve learned not get your hopes up over a pipe dream, the idea that someone like him would genuinely care about you being so laughable that you get over it rather quickly. You may be from different economic classes, but a man’s attention is never a necessity. That an he’s far from the only trust fund kid in the world.

A week later, your phone goes off in the middle of the night. You step out of the shower and dry yourself off, walking over to your bed and picking it up. To your surprise, the notification from Coriolanus isn’t another dry message, it’s several videos. They all look dark and fuzzy, ranging from 30 seconds to 10 minutes. In some of the thumbnails you can see flashes of bare skin. You click on the first one and are immediately faces with Coriolanus Snow’s sweaty abs.

You’re frozen as he eventually splatters jizz all over them, the camera work is shaky and the flash exposes too much for your liking. You can see his abdominal muscles twitch in the aftermath of his orgasm. He drags his fingers through his own cum and smears it over the camera, giving you a pov of what it’d be like to have your face covered in it.

Your phone chimes again.

Stalker: turn the sound on for the rest ;) see u at the car wash next friday, babe ❤️

You block him (after you save the videos and check the charge on your vibrator).

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Birthday Pie

main masterlist | supernatural masterlist

SPOILERS! set between seasons 7 and 8 of supernatural, there are spoilers for both these seasons

summary: you celebrate his birthday even when he’s gone

pairing: dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 0.9k

warnings: sad, not at all a happy birthday for our beloved lil guy, language

author’s note: i’m sorry, okay? i’ve had this idea in my head for months and decided that today is a good day to release it? anyway, happy 45th birthday dean winchester! love you and very glad you’re alive and well and the series finale never happened! :)

January 24th, 2013 — Dean’s 34th Birthday.

You were barely able to drag yourself out of bed and into the living room where you were now seated and watching TV. It didn’t matter what was on, you weren’t paying attention anyway. Your mind was completely focused on Dean. Your beloved Dean; who shouldn’t be wherever the fuck he was but instead safe in your arms.

He shouldn’t be spending his birthday terrified, missing you and his brother. He should be spending it with you, Sam, and Cas.

Sure, he wasn’t really the birthday party type of guy but each year since you met him you’d gotten him a pie and put candles in it for him to blow out. It’d started as a half-assed attempt to put a smile on his face when you learned it was his birthday and you couldn’t find a cake at the store.

He’d loved it.

“How’d you know I’d rather have pie?” he had asked, his face lighting up even more when you put two candles—a two and a four—in the center.

“I…had a feeling.” You had shrugged it off as not a big deal but deep down you both knew how much it meant to him.

And each year since then—come rain, shine, monsters, or the apocalypse—you made it your job to get Dean Winchester a pie on his birthday.

A few tears rolled down your cheeks, joining the half-dried ones there already. You hadn’t been sad on Dean’s birthday since his year before hell. But it was different then, you had him next to you and you were savoring every second. You might have been terrified of what would soon happen, but you were still with him.

**

“If you’re not already aware, Dean,” Castiel started, “you turn thirty-four today.”

“What?” Dean asked, confused. “Cas we—”

“Granted time seems to be passing differently here, but on earth it is currently your birthday.”

“Happy birthday, brother,” Benny joked.

“Yeah real fuckin’ happy,” Dean scoffed. “We’re stuck killing our way through this fuckin’ nightmare while the love of my life is spending my birthday alone.”

“I’m sure she’s okay, Dean,” Cas assured him. “She has Sam, he’ll look after her until we get back.”

“No, you don’t get it. Birthdays were…they were our thing, if that makes any goddamn sense.”

**

“Happy birthday, Dean,” you smiled, placing the pie in front of him.

“Twenty-six! God, that sounds old,” Dean laughed a little.

“You’re kidding right?” you asked after singing for him as he blew out the candles.

“What?”

“Twenty six may sound old to you, but trust me you are still fuckin’ adorable.”

“I am, aren’t I?” He grinned.

“You wanna do the honors, cutie?” you asked, handing him the kitchen knife.

“Gladly, sweetheart,” he said, taking it from you. You watched him cut a slice for you then an even bigger slice for himself.

“Dean,” you started as you watched him begin eating the pie. “I love you.”

He stopped eating and looked at you; “What?”

“I know there’s a lot about your life you haven’t told me, you’re lore you could call it, but I need you to know that I really do love you, Dean Winchester.”

“But how? I mean, I’m not exactly an open book and there’s no way…” he trailed off.

“No way, what?”

“There’s no way in hell you’d feel this way if you learned everything about me.”

Your heart broke at his words, and your expression definitely showed it.

“The amount of pure love I have for you is beyond measurable, Dean. And I might be crazy for saying this, and feeling this, but there is truly nothing you could say or do that would make me stop.”

“Really?” he asked quietly, as if he was scared to press his luck.

You nodded with a soft smile; “Really.”

“Well, look I’m not really one for…that…but I do…I do feel that way about you too. I guess what I’m saying is, uh, right back at cha?”

“See to any normal person that would sound like the ramblings of a crazy man,” you said, his smile only growing. “But to me? Absolute poetry.” You leaned over and kissed him. “Happy birthday, Dean.”

He simply kissed you back, smiling against your lips.

**

“Happy birthday, Dean,” you whispered, blowing out the candles on the small pie you’d bought. It was a one-person pie because you knew if you bought a regular one that at least three-quarters would not have been eaten.

You took out the candles and picked up your fork. Staring down at the desert, you let more tears fall.

“It shouldn’t be this hard to eat a fuckin’ pie,” you laughed humorously. Your phone rang next to you and you answered it; “Hey, Sam.”

“Hey,” he sighed. “I just wanted to call and check up on you. It being Dean’s birthday and all, I figured you might…you know…”

“Be huddled up in bed sobbing my eyes out?” you said.

“Yeah…”

“I’m holding it together Sammy, don’t worry about me,” you assured him.

“I always worry about you, you know that.”

There was a short pause in the conversation as you took a deep breath and let a few more tears fall; “I miss him, Sammy,” you admitted. “I just really miss him.”

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Our children yearn for the waterpark

part one

barbie dolls: Jegulus x you

word:3.9k

summary:James takes you and regulus (along with your children) to a waterpark

warnings: your son is named Elliot, also you're referred to as Ren and Rena like the gn term for your parent so just yk it's not an oc i promise, pushing the trans James agenda, James is a baker and regulus is a stay at home dad/writer you’re a teacher just so you know, modern au I'm SORRY, James’ parents are alive, Regulus has freinds, Regulus hates the public water, Allusions to poc Luna harry and james, your race and elliots race is not menntioned everyone is welocome, you dont get in the water, Regulus is a sunscreen god he loves sunscreen so much, Harry is mentioned to have moms theyre giving divorce core mom and dad’s house, james drives a minivan, allusions to autistic reader and Elliot but its not specified, your swimsuit is not mwntioned or described so again everybody welcome, i hate typos oh my god

You liked dating James and Regulus. Your relationship was still very fresh, but their effect was hard to miss. They made you laugh all the time. James was very energetic, matching your kids well. Regulus was blunt and it relaxed your nerves of missing a hidden message in a conversation. And they were both great parents. Your kids already loved each other and they got along well.

School was out. Meaning both you and Elliot had loads of free time on your hands. With summer in full swing, you set up frequent playdates with Elliot’s two best friends. You wanted him to keep his strong bonds with them and it definitely wasn’t because you missed Regulus and James. Regulus was really self-employed. He stayed at home to raise Luna and to write his books. He could easily add a playdate to his schedule. James however was a baker with hours he had to meet. So he didn’t always have a clear schedule. Harry would stay with his grandparents, Euphemia and Fleamont, while James was at work. Harry also spent a lot of time at his Moms’ house. So making a playdate with all three children involved was harder than expected. Elliot still liked hanging out with Luna, and sometimes even Harry too on certain weekends.

Your phone rang as you were cutting up celery for Elliot. He was going through a peanut butter phase, eating it on everything. You picked up the call, holding the phone with your shoulder and the side of your face.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Pretty. It’s me.” You smiled at James’ voice. Just as you were about to tell him hi again, he started talking. “Lemme add Regulus.” You stayed silent as his side went quiet. You heard Elliot in the other room, clacking his toys together on the dining room table. You snagged a pretzel from the small pile on his plate. Soon enough James and Regulus both joined.

“Are you guys busy this weekend?” You scoffed at James. You heard Regulus sniffle a laugh on his line.

“James, baby, we’re always free. Do try to remember our professions.” You said as you smeared peanut butter onto Elliot’s celery.

“Right yeah, well I just accidently bought exactly six passes to this really cool waterpark,” James said, whispering the last word. You oooed while Regulus snorted.

“James, do share with us how you accidentally bought exactly enough passes for all of us and our children.” Regulus pressed. You heard Luna in the background let out a yell filled with laughter.

“Was that Luna?” You asked. Regulus explained that her uncles were over and attacking her with tickles. Regulus returned the conversation to the waterpark passes.

“alright fine, you caught me. I missed you guys. I’ve been so busy with work, I feel like I haven’t seen you all summer.” You cooed at James while Regulus let out a whine.

“He cares.” Regulus mocked.

“How adorable.” You joined in making James groan loudly. “What day were you planning on going to the p-a-r-k, James?” You spelled out where you were going so Elliot wouldn’t overhear and get excited. You turned around to the color-coordinated calendar on the fridge. It was mostly empty, you and Elliot preferred the company of each other than strangers. Though you had a really exciting playdate with Luna planned next Thursday. What a wild life you lived.

“This Saturday if that works for you two.” You glanced over at the empty box.

“Yeah, I could squeeze you in.” You muttered into the microphone as you turned back to Elliot’s plate.

“Lemme check my planner.” Regulus waited for a second. “Oh that’s right, I hate human beings. I'm completely free.” James let out a sigh of relief. You picked up Elliot’s plate, walking it to the dining room. Elliot was sitting in a chair, his little arms just barely reaching over the edge of the table, smacking two toy cars together. You set his plate in front of him. Elliot thanked you, shoving the peanut butter-covered celery into his mouth. You kissed his forehead, ruffling his hair before pulling back. You noticed his bare legs.

“Baby, where are your pants?” You tilted your head. Elliot pointed to the bathroom.

“Hamper,” Elliot answered.

“Well, good job putting them in the hamper but why aren’t they on your legs?” You asked.

“Didn’t wanna wear ‘em,” Elliot said, his mouth full of celery.

“Can’t argue with that, make sure you chew all the way okay.” Elliot nodded as you left to go clean the kitchen.

“One thing I will say though, I’m not getting that water. Do you realize how filthy those things are?” You tuned back into the conversation listening to Regulus list off statistics of how gross waterparks are.

“That’s okay, I’ll be in the water so I can make sure Luna doesn’t swim away or anything,” James said, clearing up the problem. You nodded.

“I’ll dry off Luna if you don’t want to touch the water on her, and we’ll lay a towel over one of those chairs that are shaded so we know it's clean. If you feel lonely, I'll sit with you and James if you feel tired we can swap places.” You offered, wanting to fill in any potholes in your plans.

“You are very kind, darling,” Regulus muttered. You cooed at him as you shoved the peanut butter back in the high cabinet so Elliot wouldn’t eat it all in one sitting and hurt his stomach.

“You guys are nasty. I was thinking maybe we carpool so nobody gets lost and it saves gas.” James said. You hummed while Regulus made a disapproving sound.

“James, there’s like twelve of us. Are you driving a bus?” Regulus said, poking holes into James’ ideas. If you were looking at James you assumed he’d be rolling his eyes.

“I have a big van. It has enough seating for us, I counted to make sure.” You hummed.

“Okay, baby, whatever you want.” You agreed, putting the celery into the refrigerator. Regulus sighed.

“I suppose that could work.” You snorted at Regulus’ faked disappointment. You heard Luna call for Regulus on his side.

“I’m being called for Yeti in my Spaghetti, I have to go.” You all said bye before hanging up.

Saturday came faster than you thought it would. You were packing a big bag of sunscreen and towels, in no time. You told Elliot he didn’t need to wear his goggles before you even got in the car but he was excited. You let it slide, you’re only seven once. You were a little anxious about the whole thing, you worried one of the kids would splash Regulus. You were worried they would slip on the wet concrete and crack their head. You worried Elliot’s goggles were too tight on his head. You heard an engine approaching. You looked out the window to verify it was James. Definitely his red minivan, bumper stickers littering the back. You turned around to Elliot.

“You know who’s in the driveway?” Elliot jumped up off the couch, bouncing on his feet.

“Harry and Luna?” You nodded. Elliot bolted towards the door. You were opening the minivan door in no time, a wave of hello’s meeting you and Elliot. Luna and Harry were next to each other in the back row.

“They wanted to sit in the back because they’re spies.” You hummed at Regulus’ explanation. You were able to fit Elliot’s booster seat in the back, next to Luna. You pushed the seat in front of them back, sitting in the row in front of theirs. Regulus was in the passenger seat, tilting his head back to see you. You smiled at him warmly as you buckled your seatbelt. James’ face appeared next to his, looking at you.

“Hi,” James said, a light air to his greeting.

“Hi.”

“Okay, waterpark here we come!” James said, loud enough for the back row to hear. The kids all squealed, thrashing their legs and arms around. Your trip to the waterpark calmed your worries. James and Regulus’ presence already working numbers. James apparently made a summertime fun playlist specifically for this. The kids seemed to enjoy it. Luna made her doll dance and Elliot made his car dance. Harry just made himself dance.

You six easily made it through the gates. You were holding hands with Regulus on one side and Elliot on the other. When you look back to see Elliot holding onto Luna’s hand and Luna holding onto Harry’s hand, you had flashbacks to watching ducks cross the road. James was in the front leading you all to his Harry’s favorite part of the waterpark. Regulus narrowly avoided a small kid with Nemo arm floaties splashing. You rubbed his arm in sympathy.

“I'll dry you off if you get any water on you, and I have hand sanitizer and butt wipes in my bag. Regulus knocked your cheek with his head in a thank you. James ran ahead, snagging a sunlounger for Regulus. You pulled a towel out of your bag, handing it to James. Regulus settled onto the chair, digging into his own bag. He motioned for Luna to come over, squirting a mountain of tinted sunscreen into his hands. Regulus smothered Luna in sunscreen, making sure she was covered entirely.

Luna had on an adorable bright orange swimsuit with ruffles around the edges. She had matching arm floaties that she talked Regulus out of, pinkie promising to stay in the shallow end. You knew that within an hour she’d want to go into the deep end and Regulus would have to talk her into a life vest and arm floaties. Luna was free though, slipping her Tinkerbell flip-flops off and splashing into the shallow end. You were in the kid's area so there wasn’t even really a deep end but you could easily imagine Luna tricking someone into taking her to the lazy river.

Harry was next in the sunscreen line. Harry had on a long-sleeved swim shirt and Lighting McQueen shorts. James had on just red shorts. He had already tossed his coverup tee off. You didn’t want to oggle him. James had antler tattoos following the path of the scars on his chest. Regulus’ shorts were blue, you expected him to stay under the shade the whole time.

James pulled his spray can of suscreen out of his bag. Regulus looked aghast at James even thinking of covering a human in that. Regulus slapped it out of James’ hands, using Luna’s sunscreen on Harry instead. Regulus forced James into using Luna’s sunscreen as well. Regulus smothered some over James’ cheeks. It made James fluster, giggling and needing to turn around to take a moment to himself. After Regulus smothered James and Harry in sunscreen, he pulled Elliot over.

You sat next to Regulus as he rubbed sunscreen into Elliot’s skin. You held onto Elliot’s hand, he was squeezing the life out of it. Elliot hated the texture of sunscreen but he liked playing in the water more than sitting in the shade. He just needed a little bit of comfort through it and he was okay. After Regulus was done Elliot moved into your arms for more comfort. You hummed, squeezing him tight. You rocked him gently, giving him all the praises he needed. Elliot eventually pulled back, leaving his shoes next to his friends’ and joining them in the water. You smiled at him splashing with his friends, the three of them flinging water at James, who pretended to die and crash into the water.

You turned back to Regulus, happy you were all together. Regulus was staring at you with a deadly serious look in his eyes. His palms were pointed towards you, you glanced down at them. Your smile slightly fell when you realized they were coated in sunscreen.

“Oh Regulus, I actually put some on at ho-“ Regulus shut you up by smothering your face with his hands. He removed them, smearing his hands down your arms. You sputtered, he avoided your eyes and mouth shockingly. Regulus returned his hands to your face, now gently rubbing it into your face. You understood now why this flustered James. Regulus had both hands on your face treating your skin with such love, making sure you were fully protected. He eventually sat back, adding more to his hands before looking up at you.

“Can I do the rest or do you want to?” You shrugged.

“I’m cool with whatever you want, babe.” Regulus sighed. He hated when people made him make decisions.

“I'll do most.” You hummed in approval. He rubbed sunscreen into most of your skin, handing you the bottle to finish. When you were done you squeezed some of Regulus’ sunscreen into your hands, facing him with the same severity. He looked up from rubbing some into his arms. He raised an eyebrow at you.

“I'll get your back, baby.” Regulus squinted his eyes at you. You grinned.

“Are you trying to steal my job?” You shook your head moving to sit behind him. You applying sunscreen devolved into you just rubbing the tension out of his shoulders. Regulus dropped his head back against you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, lightly pecking his cheek on the way. You both watched as James picked Harry up by his ankles, wrapping his arms around Harry’s legs, and swinging him around. It made Harry giggle loudly, squealing and swinging his arms around. James gently set Harry back on his feet, splashing all three of your kids with a large swing of his arms. James left the water, squeezing his shorts out. He slumped down into the sun lounge chair next to you that you claimed with your bag.

He pulled his arms under his head, sighing. You admired the way the sun warmed his skin. You were not checking him out you were just checking for sunburns. Regulus pressed a kiss to your arm, leaning out of your hold. James opened his eyes, looking over at you both.

“So I was thinking, maybe we go out to eat after this.” You hummed nodding your head.

“You pick, I hate making decisions,” Regulus muttered. You patted his shoulder.

“Parenting must be hard for you.” Regulus nodded at you. He looked up when he heard Luna scream. Harry was splashing her. Elliot was near them staring at the lost water shoe sitting at the edge of the shallow water.

“Elliot, leave the shoe alone.” You yelled over at him. His head shot up, caught. He stood up and pointed down at it.

“Rena, it has no brother. Where’s the owner?” You shrugged at him.

“I don’t know, baby. Leave it alone, you don’t know what somebody could’ve stepped in.” Elliot pouted at you. Your yelling caught the attention of the other two. They stood around the lost shoe staring down at it. You stood up, joining them so now all four of you were standing around this lost shoe and inspecting it. You told them not to touch it running over to the nearby snowcone stand asking for napkins. You picked the shoe up with a napkin. The three children follow you to the trashcan. You set it on top in case the owner came back, and looked for it. You tossed the napkins into the trashcan, turning around to your little huddle of kids.

“Why can you touch it but we can’t?” Luna asked, staring up at you.

“I had napkins, and I’m an adult so I can make my own decisions about my health.” Luna pouted at your answer.

“That’s unjust,” Luna muttered under her breath.

“Can we have napkins?” Harry asked. You shook your head. Elliot scoffed.

“This sucks, you took away my shoe.” You dropped your shoulders.

“I’m sorry hun but you can’t have that shoe. it’s not for you.” You looked around the huddle to make sure they all understood. Luna pushed her wet hair away from her face. Elliot turned around and left, the other two following after him. When you returned to James and Regulus, you noticed how much Luna was fighting with her hair. It kept sticking to her face and annoying her. Her eyebrows were pushed together and she looked close to drowning her mermaid doll.

“Regulus, could I put Luna’s hair up? It keeps getting in her face.” Regulus shrugged. He reached over to his bag, pulling two hairbands off a key chain and handing them to you. You asked Luna if she wanted her hair up. She said yes and settled in front of you on the chair. You had James run to the snowcone stand and ask for a cup of water. You made sure her hair was damp, so you wouldn’t hurt it. You gently pulled her hair up into a ponytail, using the hair ties Regulus gave you to hold it. You patted her arms when you were done. Luna turned around and gave you a tight hug.

After another hour of the kids and James being rowdy, you were all tired. You stayed true to your word, drying Luna off with her towel while Regulus packed up his bag. With everyone buckled in the car, James started towards whatever food place he picked. The ride back from the waterpark was much calmer and quieter than the ride to. The kids were tired, you were tired, the car was tired. You glanced over at Regulus when you heard him mutter something. You noticed James’ hand resting on Regulus’ thigh. You smiled at that, glad you were all close. James smiled brightly at Regulus, making the car heat up with his joy.

“Well thank you, I like your swimsuit too.” You glanced at the backseat making sure all three kids were asleep.

“Oh, that’s why you invited us to the waterpark. To see me and Regulus half naked. I get it now.” James looked at you through the rearview mirror.

“No, I wanted you guys to have fun, don't soil my good name like that,” James said, giving you a playful glare. Regulus ignored you both, resting his head against his arm on the door. You noticed James’ thumb swiping back and forth in a soothing manner. You smiled at him before returning your attention out the window.

Eventually, you were gently rocking the kids’ knees so they would wake up. When they realized they had the prospect of chicken strips and french fries, they were scrambling out of their seats. You were sat at a round booth. It was more of a fast food than a restaurant place so your wet swimsuit coverups weren’t really a problem. You helped Elliot pick out his meal as James helped Harry. Luna apparently already knew what she wanted, busying herself with the sugar packets.

Your food arrived and you cut up Harry’s chicken strips while James caught you and Regulus up with what was going on with him. You slid Harry’s plate back to him. Elliot handed you the small bowl of ketchup like it was going to bite him.

“Nasty, Rena. I don't want it.” You nodded, taking it away. You set it between you and James so Elliot wouldn’t have to look at it.

“Oh thank you.” James dunked one of his fries into the bowl. You weren’t going to correct him and tell him you didn’t do that on purpose so you just smiled. You checked on Elliot, seeing him chomp into his chicken strips, tearing it away. He rawred before chewing properly. You put together that he was probably pretending to be a dinosaur. His favorite was a velociraptor. He liked that they looked like ‘stupid chickens’. You glanced over at Luna. She was chowing down on her burger. She ordered for herself. She did a great job too. Luna was very well-spoken, she seemed to have a big vocabulary. It probably had something to do with living with a writer. Especially a writer like Regulus.

You tore off a corner from your paper napkin. You rolled it into a ball before chucking it at Regulus. It hit him square in the forehead. Regulus set his fork down, looking down at the paper ball in his lap. He looked up at you and James both smothering your laughter. He reached over and covered Harry’s eyes before flipping you off. Elliot was luckily under the table getting his crayon off the floor. James dropped his fry. Regulus picked up his fork taking a proud bite out of his own fry. You ignored the fact he was eating fries with his fork and that he passed it to Luna.

“What about Luna?” James asked. Regulus removed his hand from Harry. Harry glared at Regulus before picking up another chicken strip.

“Oh, I already sawed that. Uncle B said it means I love you but Uncle Rosie told me the truth. Uncle B likes partial jokes.” Luna said, matter of factly. She kept her eyes on her burger before taking a bite. Regulus nodded at her.

“Practical, not partial. You used the phrase practical jokes correctly though. Good job, Lue.” Luna smiled with her cheeks full at Regulus. You understood why her vocab was so big now, it was Regulus. Elliot rawred again, making three claws with his fingers to pick up his chicken strips.

You were all strapped into James’ minivan and on the way back home, in no time. The kids were entertaining each other in the backseat. James had his playlist softly playing in the background.

“We should get together just us,” James said. Regulus looked away from his window raising an eyebrow at him.

”Is that not what we just did?” Regulus asked. James shook his head.

“No I mean like we should go on a for real date, not a playdate that we happen to flirt in the background. We go out just the three of us. Maybe not the waterpark though.” James explained, keeping his eyes on the road.

“I want to but it’s kinda hard getting a babysitter.” You said, looking between them. Regulus turned around to make eye contact with you.

“Elliot could spend the night at my house, I have like a thousand free babysitters,” Regulus said, waving his hand through the air.

“What will Uncle B teach my kind how to say fuck in every language?” You teased. Regulus pressed his lips togehter.

”He’s actually not that bad, he’s really good with kids. He just also has an odd sense of humor.” you squinted at Regulus. ” It's alright if you don't want him to babysit I can have Evan and Dorcas babysit. Evan is just as insane as Barty but he lowers it while around children. Barty doesn’t. Docas is super cool, she’ll probably teach Elliot how to sword fight with wrapping paper tubes.”

“Docas does sound sick.” You muttered. James cheered.

“See we can go out for real, Regulus you do the planning this time.” Regulus nodded at James.

“I actually really like planning, I wish I had my joural. I would’ve taken notes.” Regulus sadly muttered. Once you were back home, Elliot passed out on the couch. You smiled at him clutching his car to his chest. You were excited for Regulus to call you and start his planning process.

[angel-of-the-moons]

First off I'm really happy to see someone's still writing for MK11. It feels like everyone's dropped the game for the new one. So thank you. Second I would like to request MK11 Hanzo x fem reader fluff where reader found out she was pregnant and is really worried about telling Hanzo.

MK 11 is near and dear to me because it's what got me back into the franchise back when it first came out. At first I loved D'Vorah but then I got attached to Hanzo and Kuai's dynamics and then when Mileena came back? Ugh! Love!

Blossom

Hanzo x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: A little angst, fluff, pregnancy stuff! (Maybe an implied age gap between Reader and Hanzo but nothing specific, though Reader is definitely over 20)

Divider by @/saradika-graphics

Your nerves were eating themselves alive, feeling frayed at the edges as you plucked the edges of your sleeves in your anxiety.

How were you going to tell him? Ugh!

You could have sworn it was a safe day for you, when you were with him last... week? A few weeks ago? By the Elder Gods, how far were you along? The flimsy pieces of plastic you got at the store when you ventured into town on a "girl's trip" with Sonya couldn't predict that...

Sonya patted your back, the older woman smiling in sympathy, "Hey, I know how you feel. Cassie wasn't planned at all. Trust me, kid."

"I... It's just..." Your voice trembled almost as much as your hands holding the pregnancy test did. "What if he... what if he doesn't want it? After losing his wife and son, I... what if he doesn't want this--want us anymore--because he's afraid?"

"You sound like you already made up your mind about keeping the baby..." Sonya murmured softly.

You nodded, lifting your gaze to meet hers. You were sitting in the bathroom in she and Johnny's hotel suite--they were in Japan for some film shoot--your voices echoed softly off the tile walls and floor.

"I did. Is it... bad that I want this?" You asked her, chewing your bottom lip.

"No, no. no. Listen--" Sonya took the test from your hand carefully and laid it on the counter, before taking your hands in hers. "You're perfectly capable of making a decision like this. And... On the off-chance that Hanzo doesn't want this... Johnny and I will help you out. You deserve that."

"R-Really?" You asked her as your voice began to quiver. "You... You'd do that?"

"Hell yeah I would. You're one of the best operatives we have. A good fighter, great defender of Earthrealm. And... you're going to be a great mom. I'd be a major bitch if I just kicked you out after doing this with you without helping in some way."

"Think you mean General." You sniffled, smiling at her; your eyes misty with emotion. You never expected in your military career that the Sonya Blade would be one of your biggest supporters in this kind of event in your life. But... here you were.

Sonya grinned. "Damn straight. Now... if you need to, think about it before you spring it on him. Rehearse what you have to say before telling him if you gotta, okay?"

"How did... you tell Johnny about..."

"Oh, I threw the pregnancy tests at his big fat head and said "Congrats, you knocked me up, jackass"." She chuckled nostalgically.

"You did?" You gasped.

Sonya turned to you with a grin. "Yep. Shithead started crying right on the spot."

She cuffed you on the shoulder whilst you shared a laugh.

"Go and get a good night's rest, honey. You're gonna need it."

It had been nearly two days since your talk with Sonya. You had rehearsed in your head every night since over and over and over until the wee hours of the morning what Hanzo might say, and what you in turn would say to him.

But imagining the scenarios was enitrely different than putting them into action yourself...

You and Hanzo had been walking through the Fire Gardens, watching the Sakura blossoms shake and fall loose around you in a mix of velvety pink and white. It was beautiful, and a scene you normally would find very relaxing--if it weren't for the heavy iron blanket hanging in the air--the tension was so thick you weren't surprised Hanzo picked up on it.

"Something is bothering you." He said softly, his warm palm squeezing yours as you walked.

"...yeah." You answered truthfully, squeezing back.

Hanzo tugged your hand up to his chest, bringing your slow, leisurely walk to a halt. His deep, thoughtful eyes affixed their gaze to yours, imploring you. "Speak to me, my love. Please."

You felt your heart patter in your ribcage anxiously as his request hung in the air. Long, agonizing minutes stretched on for what felt like hours.

"Hanzo..." You managed to get out, despite your tongue feeling like sandpaper.

"I'm pregnant."

And with those two simple words... it was like the universe around you came to a floundering halt.

"...What?" He whispered, dropping your hand and taking a step back.

The absence of his touch filled you with fear, made you grow cold. Were your fears right? Did Hanzo not want this? You? The baby?

"You're... pregnant?" He whispered, his voice so soft you could just barely hear it over the branches in the trees creaking in the early summer breeze.

You nod, swallowing at the stone lodged in your throat, "Yeah..."

Once more the agonizing silence swallowed you both, the yawning chasm of anxiety etching itself deeper inside of you with every second that ticked by.

As you opened your mouth to speak, Hanzo closed the gap between you, crushing your body against his in a fierce, caging hug. His arms felt like the steel jaws of a bear trap as he held you, nearly squeezing the air from your lungs as he buried his face in your hair.

The silence still stretched on, however this time, you realized, it was not because Hanzo was upset or angry--but because he was crying.

His body trembled only slightly, his muscles straining to hold you without crushing you any more than he already was.

"Hanzo?" You whispered, your hope soaring even just a tiny bit.

"I love you." He croaked, his voice so rough it made you want to cry, "I love you more than life. I lost everything I loved... Quan-Chi turned me into a soulless, undead slave... I never thought I would be so happy again, as long as I lived. And... And then I found you."

He pulled back, one of his hands cupping your cheek; his thumb sweeping away one of the fat tears that tumbled down your cheek. His eyes were glassy and full of his own tears, but he had the warmest smile you'd ever seen on anyone.

"I love you so much, my fire lily. My heart." He rasped, his lips quivering even the slightest bit.

"Have you... decided what you want to--"

"I want to keep the baby, Hanzo." You blurted, your heart pounding and your blood rushing in your ears.

He sighed, his eyes soft and loving as he looked at you. "I... I am not surprised you have already made up your mind. You have always been so sure and confident. It is one of the many reasons why I adore you."

You smiled back, "I... I want this, Hanzo. I want our baby. I want... I want you with us, too." You licked your bottom lip.

"If you want us."

Hanzo responded to you by pulling you close and kissing you until your breath left your body; his tongue twisting and dancing with yours before brushing your lips as he pulled away, leaving you almost dazed and light-headed.

"I would let Kuai Liang freeze me to a block of ice and leave me on a desolate mountain to be eaten by wild animals before I let anything tear the two of you away from me." He said resolutely, his eyes steely and adamant.

Your body sagged with relief--literally--and you found yourself supported by Hanzo's strong embrace, your legs feeling like jelly and nearly giving out beneath you. Hanzo chuckled fondly as he rubbed your back to help soothe you.

Your name left his lips like a reverent prayer--and you lifted your head to look at him, tears now freely falling down your face as you smiled gleefully, "I--I was so scared.... Af-after what happened to you before, I... I was scared..."

"That out of fear for losing the two of you, I would run? Send you away for your safety?" He chuckled, as if the very notion was ridiculously insane.

"Never. It would take armageddon for something as cowardly as that. And maybe not even then."

You sniffed and hiccup, your mind a whirl of emotions as you began to break down once again, letting Hanzo hold you as he soothed you, spoke to you, and said the most romantic things you'd only read about in books.

He was happy. He wanted you and the baby. He was excited about having a family once again.

Hanzo Hasashi would once again get to feel the joy of seeing his child enter the world, getting to hold them; hearing their sweet cries as air filled their lungs.

He would get to be a father--and hopefully husband--once again.

[blingblong55]

Walking in the wind-141

A/N: sorry but I'm a directioner at heart babes so the title was a must

GN!Reader, angst, some fluff, platonic!relationship, death of character

20 years later, 141 was officially retired, all married, happy families, peaceful sunny days and most importantly, no war, no guns, just peace.

A week ago you said to me "Do you believe I'll never be too far?" If you're lost, just look for me You'll find me in the region of the summer stars

Every month, no matter where either one of the people in the team was in the world, they would fly to a small home in town in the southern part of the U.S. And arrive between 6-7 in the afternoon, to talk and catch up because it's better to see the person than to text them. The stories shared between all, the wives/husbands, kids and how old they were getting. Unlike the rest, you moved to America, and wanted that movie-like life, in some small town, driving a truck, passing through quiet streets where all anyone worried about was the leaves that would fall in autumn. You and your partner opened a small pub.

The name for it was 'R/N's Place" This was after you finally get out of the toxic part of your life, the family and the ache it gave you when you were there. Not a normal name for a pub but the locals loved it. Your favourite part was that you received lots of veterans, they all told you about their time serving and you, like the proud friend you are displayed a picture of you and the team in your first and last mission together.

It was almost around the time the men arrived, Price being the first, followed by Gaz who flew in with him. Soap arrived late, his children wanted to talk to their father before bedtime and Ghost arrived last, getting a call from his partner to which he always answered, he always made it clear his partner was a priority now that he is retired. You waited by the table with the rest for Ghost, your wife/husband serving the clients. "And there he is, Simon." Price smiled a little, proud to see his family again. "Alright, who's first?" Gaz asked and drank from his pint.

"I'll go first," Ghost said, which was a definite first. "Go on, son." Price passed all a cigar. A tradition he started once his grown soldiers/children were all retired. "Me and my partner are expecting a son." A secret he kept until it was assured the baby would make it this time. "Congrats mate!" Soap hugged him, feeling proud of a man he considered his oldest brother. "That's very much well deserved, man." Gaz smiled and you stared in awe. Price looked down with a soft chuckle, wanting to dismiss the tears that formed in his eyes. His wallet would be getting a new picture of the newest addition to the family soon. --- "R/N, I won't make it, go!" Ghost said to which you shook your head. "No, this is the one command I will not take! You will get old and fat but you will NOT die on me lieutenant, not today!" you yelled over the loud noises. ---

He looks at you and you hug him, whispering in his ear, "See, I told you it would be possible this time, Simon. I'm so happy and proud of you." Words that definitely made the tears well up in his eyes.

The fact that we can sit right here and say goodbye Means we've already won A necessity for apologies between you and me Baby, there is none

"Now you are all making me feel old." Price jokes and finally looks up. The four people he fought with through wars, all living the lives he knew were all much earned. Through the wounds, blood and sacrifice, somehow, five mad people are still alive. And the entire night, Soap told stories of his farm, and Gaz gave advice on how to fix some stuff, a trip he would soon have to make to Scotland. Gaz on the new tricks his little ones make, how he knows karma got to him and his back aches, so much for the jokes he told about Price. Ghost with his wood-making business, one he started in the backyard and now in Manchester's best small business. Price on how his kids are now in uni and the youngest one is in secondary.

And then you, with their favourite pub in the entire world, how you adopted a child and your eldest in primary already. Your wife/husband watching you smile from afar. You always were excited for these meetings, it was the one time someone other than the local veterans understood the stories you told.

We had some good times, didn't we? We had some good tricks up our sleeve Goodbyes are bittersweet But it's not the end I'll see your face again

And, as each month passed by, it turned into 10 years later. You and the other men in the team gathered not in America but back home in England. All in black dressing, lifting the coffin of the father you all shared. Price had peacefully passed on a calm night. As his wife puts it, he was finally ready to go, his mission was over and the children he raised were all old enough to understand and his little soldiers as he called you were well off in life, the one he made sure you all had. In years you had never seen so many of the toughest and now retired soldiers you worked with cry so much. You did too. The ceremony was as expected, memorable, beautiful and for the last time in John Price's life, peaceful.

Yesterday I went out to celebrate the birthday of a friend But as we raised our glasses up to make a toast I realised you were missing

You all flew back to the first ever pub he took you to. Raise your glasses and shed more tears. You see, this was a promise you all made. An oath between Task Force 141. When one passes, those that remain must go to the first pub we talked to as not a team but a family, and just then we can mourn but also celebrate we once lived.

And I know we'll be alright, child Just close your eyes and see And I'll be by your side Any time you're needing me Oh, yeah

Ghost chuckles, "And he told me, 'you reckon I can make it?' and that old man did it, the deadliest move ever and he fuckin' made it." he takes a sip of his drink. Gaz smiles, fond memories shared between him and Price, to be remembered until his final breath. "He used to do this trick with the smoke from his cigar just for my little girl to giggle, and man does she still ask for that trick," Soap shared. All four of you, smoking a cigar, just like he would've. "Can you believe the old man never complained too much about his back?" you ask to which all others nod. Now in your late 40's to early 50's, you never understood how he never once complained of the aching bones or back, proving he was and will always be the strongest and toughest man to ever grace your lives.

And you will find me Yeah, you will find me In places that we've never been For reasons we don't understand

tags: @warenai @liyanahelena

[marivoid]

Entry 31

Day 223

This is him. One of the only people that can help me find The Doctor. The Heavy-Body Builder.

One problem: The man is the definition of "Looks scary, is a wet cat of a man." He definitely TRIED to be intimidating, but he failed pretty miserably at it when I met him after being unconscious for 10 days.

(Yes I did a double take. I still can't believe I was out for THAT long)

Picture this: Me walking towards a towering city of collapsing buildings with dust filled air. Eyes focused on the small blinks of light that just barely escape the smog- I'm thinking that I've finally made it! Comparator City!

And then I get absolutely BODIED by a huge hunk of metal. I wish I were kidding. My poor spine! My arm! It got freaking CRUSHED! I was sent flying a decent few feet and ended up crashing into an old light pole (Again. OW.) All that I can remember happening next is that same hunk of metal approaching me and some guy jumping out of it. But then... Well. I was out like a light.

Managed to wake up (after what felt like) a few hours later and oh GOODNESS did it hurt. My back, my right side, my stump of an arm- It all hurt! But there was somebody in the very dim room with me. The same person that crawled out of that hunk of metal.

"Thank goodness you're awake!" He had said when I first gained consciousness. "I was worried that you wouldn't stabilize! You've been unconscious for over a week!"

"I've been WHAT?!" And of course, when I sat up I saw the damage the man had done to me. Machines were strapped all over my body, an IV drip sticking out of my arm (Where he found a clean needle I will not ask.) a whole heart rate monitor- He was stacked! But from the state of everything, he was telling me the truth. "You knocked me unconscious for a week?!"

"Well it's r-really been ten days-"

"TEN DAYS?!"

"Yes- Yes I know it sounds absolutely horrible but! But! You're recovering at an accelerated rate! You should be good to go in a few days? Maybe three? The experimental drug is working great for you!" He had been blabbering and talking so fast that I nearly missed that detail.

"Experimental- I'm sorry, EXPERIMENTAL DRUG?" Of course I had been outraged back then. (Even looking back now I'm still a bit ticked off at being used as a guinea pig for a drug that could have killed me, but hey! I'm alive now!) "You used an EXPERIMENTAL DRUG to heal me."

"Yes! And it worked!" He stepped away from me to grab my prosthetic arm. "And! And I managed to upgrade your arm! It got destroyed- Again I'm so sorry about that- but hey! At least now your map and compass aren't an extra item to carry around!"

"So you fixed the nerve sensors? The solar panels?"

"Uh- No. Unfortunately I don't have access to the receptors or the proper solar panels you need." He had explained while reattaching my arm. "But! But, it works a lot like mine!" He flashed his brass arm, glowing a soft red. "It's powered by redstone! Should last you a solid month before you need to recharge it!"

And there was the main problem. "How in the ever loving hell do I get this 'redstone' stuff? Heck, where could I even get it?"

"Easy! Me!" He flicked on a lever on the backside of my arm and it felt... Nice at the time. Sturdy. Like it wouldn't die on me when I needed it most. "I use the Parrot System, so as long as you can get mail through the Parrots you should be good!"

"... The who?"

You wouldn't believe me if I told you this man began to glow with embarrassment. I mean he LITERALLY glowed. Pointy ears and face turning a bright red that GLOWED.

"Right, uh- The parrots! They're one of the middle tier delivery birds! I'm friends with their Flight Master! I... I take it you have no idea who I'm talking about."

"Not a damn clue."

"First of all, watch your tongue. Second! That's okay! I should have enough in store that should last you about three months- But you really need to find the Flight Masters. They'll help you in the long run."

When he stopped his rambling I focused on the newly upgraded arm. It is always a weird sensation, flexing a limb that's not really there. But the small tug of metal fingers and steel plates listening to one's mind is even weirder. And I mean REALLY weird.

"Who... Exactly are these Flight Masters?" I managed to ask him after a few moments of silence. "How do you... Get under their wing?"

"That-" The man paused and the red glow only grew. "That was a horrible pun-" He has a really nice laugh. Small but breathless.

"But it works! I mean, they have to be Birds of a Feather to Fly together-"

"Stop! Stop, no!"

"When am I going to stop, huh?! Never!" And then I started to laugh. I think it was just my mind needing something to focus on other than the glaring new arm attached to my body.

"Goodness you may be worse than Gri-" His laughter died when he barely mentioned a name. I couldn't get all of it, but it must be the Flight Master.

"Worse than...?"

"Y-You will find out eventually." His tune changed from that point going forward.

He eventually gave me his name (Mumbo) and gave me a quick summary of the three Flight Masters.

The Canary: Flight Master of the small, yellow birds that linger around Comparator City. Used by the residents of said city. Apparently the easiest one to befriend.

The Parrot: Flight Master of the robotic parrots that fly around all over the Crashlands. They're more tricky to get a hold of as they have a whole database on who's a customer and who's not. Need to find the Parrot Flight Master in order to get on the list.

The Crow: Flight Master of the Murders. Every crow I have seen so far apparently belongs to Him. And apparently the only way to find him is a mystery to even Mumbo. All I can do is hope for the best with that one.

That was all the information he was willing to tell me. Apparently I struck a nerve by getting him to almost spill the name of the Parrot Flight Master. I'm still resting in this small room, letting myself recover from being plowed by that big old machine.

I even tried asking him what that THING was that he hit me with! But he just shook his head and said it was a prototype I shouldn't bother myself with.

Things are just getting really overwhelming now. So much information to process. How do I find the Canary? Or hell, the Parrot? I'm not even going to TOUCH the subject of the Crow. What about the Demon? Is he still around? Is he in Comparator City? Will I run out of the weird redstone dust before I find the Parrot?

So many questions.

Too little answers.

I think I'm just going to shut off my mind for a little bit.

MLW

G.U.I.D.E. 67

[hbyrde36]

Caught in the Undertow

Chapter Three

Ch 1 Ch 2 <-

WC: 4769 | R: Explicit | TW: Suicidal ideation, depression | Ch 3/10 | AO3

Note: Trigger warnings apply very strongly to this chapter, and it is probably the heaviest chapter of the fic.

Steve had been a little on edge all day. 

He kept trying to convince himself that it wasn’t a big deal, that tonight would be just like any other post Upside Down fuckery get-together, nothing whatsoever to get worked up over.

But it was no use.

It was a big deal. Tonight would be the first time any of them had set eyes on Eddie since the night they’d killed Vecna—since the night they’d almost lost the other boy for good. 

Assuming he actually showed. 

Steve almost couldn’t believe it when Dustin called saying Eddie had finally come to the phone, and not only spoke to him but agreed to a party. 

It seemed like a huge step after he’d so thoroughly cut them all off. Because no matter how many times Steve had told Dustin to give it time, that everyone heals from trauma in their own way, at their own pace, Steve knew that’s exactly what Eddie had done—he just didn't understand why.

It gave him a bad feeling about the night to come.

Still, the relief at hearing that Eddie had finally reached out to one of them, that Steve might finally get to see him whole and well after keeping him alive through sheer force of will alone, only to have Eddie ripped away from him at the hospital never to be seen again…

It had been enough to send him to his knees.

The phone rang, pulling Steve from his thoughts and forcing him to stop wiping the already clean kitchen counter to answer. It had to be Robin. He’d known this would happen. She swore she’d get her mom to drop her off for once so he wouldn’t have to venture out when Jonathan and Nancy were already picking up the kids.

"Hey, Rob. You need a ride after all?"

"Steve?” A voice that was definitely not his best friend’s came over the line. “It's Wayne."

"Oh! Mr. Munson. I thought—"

"Boy,” Wayne huffed, and Steve could practically feel him shaking his head. “How many times are you gonna make me say it?"

"Sorry—Wayne,” Steve corrected himself. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to calling the older man by his first name, it just wasn’t how he was raised, but Eddie’s uncle seemed hell bent on making sure he did. 

"That's better."

"Is everything okay? Is Eddie...?" Steve clutched the phone with both hands, willing the knot forming in his stomach to go away. He could only assume either something had happened, or Wayne was calling to tell him Eddie wasn’t coming after all. 

"He's fine,” Wayne was quick to reassure him. “As fine as he’s been, at least. He's in the shower now getting ready to head over to your place. I can't tell you how happy I am that he's finally going to see some of his friends."

"Me too. I… I know the kids miss him."

“Right,” Wayne huffed a laugh. "You say that as if you’re not a kid yourself."

Steve wasn’t sure if he was imagining the double meaning or not, but decided to ignore it.

“I guess I just haven't felt like one in a long time.” 

Wayne hummed in understanding. "I hope it’s not too much to ask, but keep a close eye on Ed tonight, will ya? I know this is a good thing. Him getting out of the house feels like the first step towards him living his life again, but… well, you know I worry."

"It’s no problem," Steve said immediately. 

As if that hadn’t already been his plan for the evening.

“Thank you, Steve. Oh, and I think maybe it’d be best if we don’t let on to Eddie that we’ve been talking. He might take it the wrong way, like we been talking bad about him behind his back. Would you mind keeping it between you and me?” 

They sort of had been talking about him behind his back, but it wasn’t like that. It wasn’t malicious. And Steve knew there were things Wayne didn’t share. Half the time the older man simply told stories about Eddie growing up.

“I won’t say a word, promise.”

Steve's camaraderie with Eddie's uncle wasn’t something he ever could have predicted coming out of all this.

Wayne had been understandably skeptical when he learned that his nephew had been found, and his life saved by a group of kids, and that that group had included one Steve Harrington. 

Steve’s dad and Wayne had to be roughly the same age, and Richard Harrington had long held a reputation for being a stuck up asshole. Steve also had no idea what tales Eddie might have come home telling about his own asshole years, so he could hardly blame the man for being wary when they’d first met in the hospital’s waiting room. 

Regardless of his concerns, Wayne had still looked Steve’s number up in the phonebook and called, on one of the rare days he wasn’t already there haunting the halls of Hawkins General, to tell him that Eddie had finally woken up. Though at the time he still wasn’t allowed visitors.

They wound up talking on the phone for more than an hour, until Wayne ran out of change.

Steve couldn't tell Eddie’s uncle anything about the Upside Down or Vecna, for fear of violating the NDAs they’d all signed years ago, even if Brenner was dead now, and no one had shown up yet this time around to demand their continued silence. And to his surprise the older man didn't push, almost like he knew there were things Steve wasn’t allowed to share no matter how much he might want to. 

He did explain, in the most sanitized version of events possible, that he and the others had been with Eddie the whole time. Trying to protect him, to hide him from the citizens that were hell-bent on hunting him down, while also dodging the advances of the real killer. And when the worst had happened, he—Steve, had done CPR, refusing to let Eddie succumb to his injuries.

It was all the truth he could offer, and really it wasn’t that far off. Wayne had cried quietly into the receiver, though they both pretended he hadn’t, and couldn’t seem to thank Steve enough. 

Steve went on to tell him about the boathouse. How he hadn’t really known Eddie that well in school, but that even after the other boy had threatened him with a broken bottle to his neck, he quickly realized that everyone had it wrong. Under all the leather and chains, and loud brashness, Eddie was sensitive, kind, and wouldn’t hurt a fly unless provoked. 

He even went so far as to say that he hoped, once the dust settled anyway, that he and Eddie could get to know each other better. Not the most damning of statements, but still more than he’d really meant to share. Steve wasn’t sure what had possessed him to be so honest. There was just something about Wayne Munson that made him feel comfortable and safe.

They spoke every single day after that. Either on the phone, or more often in person when both of them were camped out in the hospital’s waiting room with a revolving cast of others. 

It’d been hard to hear that Eddie didn’t want to see anyone. 

Wayne hadn’t said those exact words, of course, but it wasn’t hard for Steve to read between the lines. The entire group of them, not just those who had fought against Vecna from Hawkins, but Mike, El, Will, Jonathan, Jonathan’s friend Argyle who had inexplicably stuck around after driving the rest of them cross country in his pizza van— even though some of them had never even met Eddie, they all rushed to the hospital when word came down that their friend’s name had finally been cleared. His restrictions lifted.  

Dustin took it the hardest, refusing to go home because if Steve wasn’t leaving, then why did he have to go? And Steve couldn’t really argue with that, he’d done this to himself. Thankfully Claudia showed up eventually and didn’t give her son the choice.

Steve continued to talk to Wayne often, still went to the hospital nearly every day, even though it was clear that reports on Eddie’s progress from his uncle would be all the proof of life he’d get. Wayne was always checking in on Steve too, asking if he was eating, sleeping, that sorta thing. It was kind of nice having an adult fuss over him like that, he’d almost forgotten what it was like.

Robin grabbed Steve by the hem of his polo, forcibly pulling him into the kitchen where Nancy, Jon, and Argyle were hanging out.

“Hey, watch it!” Steve yanked himself out of her grip, straightening his shirt. 

Robin leaned in close to whisper. “You have to stop staring, dingus. You’re going to freak him out.”

Steve scoffed, keeping his own voice low. “As if he’s even looked in my direction once.”

“I know Wayne asked you to look out for him tonight, but don’t you think you’re taking it a little too seriously?”

“I told you that in confidence!” Steve hissed under his breath. 

“Just relax. He seems fine to me.” Robin patted him on the arm and turned to join Nancy in her discussion about studying for finals.

She wasn’t wrong exactly. Eddie did seem fine—with everyone else. 

Eddie had been the last to arrive and Steve worried at first that it might be too much, walking into a house full of people and being inundated by the likes of Mike and Dustin. He’d even said as much to the younger teens when they heard the squealing of brakes as Eddie’s van pulled up, warning them not to overwhelm him with questions or say anything about the hospital. 

And for a moment Steve thought he’d been wrong. 

Eddie came through the door, dimples on display, all big stupidly pretty smiles, a bit crooked now from the still healing scar near his mouth, but that only drew Steve’s attention to his lips more. 

He hugged Dustin, reintroduced himself to Jonathan, who of course remembered him from school, met Argyle and El, and greeted everyone else one by one. 

Everyone but Steve. 

No one else seemed to notice the oversight, and Steve, not wanting to make a big deal out of it, proceeded to quietly brood in the corner, taking breaks only to freshen his beer so he’d have something to do with himself while he observed—not stared, Robin.

The longer he watched, the more convinced he became that Eddie wasn’t as okay as he was pretending to be. His already lithe frame looked even thinner now. He was swimming in his usual ripped jeans and faded Black Sabbath t-shirt. No, Steve still didn’t know who they were, but he could read damnit. And there was something in the set of Eddie’s shoulders, the way he clenched his jaw, balling his hands into fists when he thought no one was looking, a tightness around his eyes—eyes with dark bruising below that spoke of many sleepless nights.

Or maybe Steve was overreacting. Maybe this was just what happens when someone is recovering from almost dying in a hell dimension. Maybe it was a good thing Robin had pulled him away before he could do or say anything to embarrass himself. 

Steve wasn’t sure how long he’d been milling about the kitchen making awful small talk with his ex-girlfriend, her boyfriend, and her boyfriend’s stoner best friend when Eddie came stumbling into the kitchen, Robin following close behind with wide eyes on her way back from the bathroom.

Eddie mumbled out an apology to no one as he banged into the counter before finding his way to the fridge where he took out a beer, and proceeded to down it in one go with the door still hanging wide open in front of him. 

Steve shared a baffled look with Robin. There was no way Eddie had gotten that drunk off of the two, now three beers, he’d had since he arrived. He had to have started before he got there, or broken into Steve’s dad’s liquor cabinet in the office. 

“Hey, Eddie… um, do you think maybe you should slow down?” Steve said cautiously, taking a tentative step towards the other boy as he popped open yet another beer. 

At least he closed the refrigerator door this time.

“That an order, King Steve?” Eddie slurred out, looking Steve in the eye for the first time all evening. He swayed into Steve’s space, poking a finger into his chest. “How about you just mind your own fucking business for once, and leave me alone.”

Eddie’s words were biting, vicious, and Steve found himself taking a step back, holding his hands up as if surrendering. This time it was Nancy he exchanged a quick glance with. She looked just as confused as he felt, brows tightly furrowed, bottom lip trapped between her teeth.

“Man, that’s—that’s not—” Steve began, floundering for what to say. He didn’t understand what was happening, why Eddie was so angry. He thought they’d moved past high school reputations after everything. “I just don’t want to see you get sick or something.”

“Whatever,” Eddie made a dramatic show out of rolling his eyes, before fumbling in his pockets and pulling out his keys. “I’m outta here.”

When Steve hesitated, afraid to make it worse, Robin walked right up to Eddie and snatched the set of keys out of his hand. “Oh no you don't. No way we’re letting you drive like this.”

“Fine, I’ll walk!” Eddie snapped, moving to step around her, but found Jonathan his path.

“You can’t walk all that way, man,” Jonathan said.

“Watch me,” Eddie spun on his heel, nearly fell when he lost his balance, and almost ran into Nancy who had moved to block the other way out of the kitchen.

“There’s still people out there who are after you, Eddie. It’s not safe," she said.

Eddie laughed, but it was an unsettling, hollow sound, devoid of any actual humor. He looked at them all in turn with dull eyes. “Jesus H. Christ. What a meddling pack of fucking do-gooders you are. So what if they’re after me. Who cares?”

“I do,” Steve blurted out, unable to keep his mouth shut any longer. “We all do. We’re your friends, Eddie. Of course we care.”

Eddie scoffed, shaking his head as he rounded on Steve again. “Yeah, sure.”

“Look, I’ve got a guest room, why don’t you sleep it off and you can drive home in the morning.”

“You just looove telling people what to do, don’t you?” Eddie crooned, mockingly. “Maybe I don’t want to sleep it off.”

Robin moved to stand between them, facing Eddie. “What is your problem, huh?” 

“You wanna know what my problem is?” Eddie asked, tilting his head, pointing an accusing finger behind her. “Him. He’s my problem.”

Steve had a horrible sinking feeling in his gut, but he tried to push it aside. It could be that Eddie was just an angry drunk or something, in which case, trying to reason with him right now was pointless, but he still had to ask.

“I don’t understand, Eddie. What did I do?” 

“You should have fucking left me there!” 

Everyone froze, the kitchen falling absolutely silent in the wake of Eddie’s words. Steve watched as all the blood drained from the other boy’s face, leaving him more ghostly pale than ever. 

Eddie took a stumbling step back from Robin, pushing past Jonathan, who didn’t try to stop him this time, and took off. Steve listened for the sound of the front door opening and closing but it never came. Instead he heard a door slam down the other end of the hall where the bathroom was, and realized that Robin still held Eddie’s van keys in her hand.

The raised voices of Dustin and Max filtered in from the other room, snapping the group of older teens back to life.

“Shit,” Steve ran his hands roughly through his hair. “You don’t think the kids heard any of that do you?”

Argyle jumped into action, peeking his head around the doorway that separated the kitchen from the living room before turning back with an easy smile. “Nah, the little dudes are like, fully engrossed in arguing about what movie to watch, they’re fine.”

Steve raised his face to the ceiling, letting out the breath he’d been holding. Robin wrapped an arm around his waist, pressing her cheek into his arm.

“Nance, do you think you guys could drive everyone home?” Steve asked.

Nancy shrugged. “Yeah, yeah I guess, but… what are you going to do?”

“I’m not sure, but it feels like this is my fault somehow,” he said, leaning his head down against Robin’s for a moment, taking the comfort she offered while he could. He had a feeling the night wasn’t going to get any better from here. “So I should be the one to fix it.”

They told the kids that Eddie wasn’t feeling well, and had gone upstairs to lay down and needed quiet. They weren’t thrilled about getting kicked out, denied their big group sleepover, but Steve promised a raincheck and that seemed to smooth things over. 

Dustin lagged behind when the others split off into Nancy’s car and Argyle’s van, shooting suspicious looks between Steve and Robin. “I’m not stupid, I know something’s wrong. Something you're not telling me.”

“Do you trust me, Henderson?”

“You know I do.” Dustin scowled. “But you can’t treat me like a kid forever.”

Steve drew him into a tight hug. “I know, just… let me handle this one, okay?”

“You’ll take care of him?” Dustin asked, voice muffled where his face was pressed to Steve’s chest.

“Yeah, buddy. It’s gonna be okay. I’ll call you tomorrow, I promise.” 

Robin was the last to go, hovering in the open doorway while Nancy’s car idled out front.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”

Steve would have loved for her to stay, to hold his hand through whatever the hell was about to happen, but he had a feeling he had a better chance of getting Eddie out of that bathroom without a crowd. And if Eddie wanted to keep taking his anger out on Steve, well, he could handle it, and at least no one else would have to hear. 

“I’ll be alright.”

“Are you going to call Wayne?” She asked.

He’d already been waffling back and forth about calling the older man. He didn’t want to worry Eddie’s uncle even more than he already was, but he might not have a choice.

“If I say yes, will you go?”

Robin elbowed him hard in the side before throwing her arms around his neck. “What Eddie said, Steve… I-I don’t like the sound of that.”

Steve swallowed hard around the growing lump in his throat. “Me either.” 

Steve approached the bathroom slowly, wrapping his arms around himself when he heard Eddie sobbing through the closed door, so sorrowful and loud that he could practically feel the other boy’s pain. 

Steve’s heart broke.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself before knocking softly on the hollow wood.

The sound of Eddie’s cries was choked off abruptly, replaced with a muffled whimper. Steve could imagine clear as day the other boy sitting in there with a hand thrown over his own mouth, desperately trying to stifle the sound. 

Steve squeezed his eyes shut, taking more deep even breaths as he bowed his head. He was intimately familiar with bathroom floor breakdowns, and not just the one he and Robin now looked back on with an odd fondness, the moment they became them. He’d spent more than one night on a cold tile floor. After the first demogorgon, after the tunnels, the Russians and the mind flayer, and just a few weeks ago, after Vecna—after Eddie.

Steve sat, pulling his knees to his chest, resting his back against the door frame.

“It’s just me, Eddie. Everyone else is gone. Do you… do you want to come out and talk? Or I could come in there?” 

“Go away, Harrington,” Eddie said weakly. 

“If you don’t want to talk, I could just sit with you.”

“Haven’t you done enough, King Steve? Just leave me alone, man.” Eddie's voice shook.

It was the same words he’d thrown in Steve’s face in the kitchen, but the sharp edges had been filed off.

Steve sighed, letting his head fall back against the door with a soft thunk. “Come on, Eddie. You know I'm not that guy anymore. I thought we had a moment back there, in the woods?” 

He still had no idea where this was coming from. What had he done to make Eddie hate him all of the sudden?

Eddie let out another humorless chuckle. “A moment? What am I—your fucking prom date, Harrington?”

“You know what I mean. I thought we had an understanding, that we agreed we were both different than the other expected.”

“What part of any of this has convinced you that I’m not exactly the freak everyone says I am?”

“You’re not a—”

Steve’s reply was cut off by a metallic clatter on the other side of the door. His stomach dropped, his mouth went dry, and his heart began hammering in his chest. It could be nothing more than the chains from Eddie’s jeans dragging on the floor, but if it wasn’t… 

Steve shot to his feet, trying the handle though he knew it’d be locked.

It was.

“Open the door, Eddie.”

“Fuck off.”

Steve jiggled the handle again. “Unlock this fucking door or I’ll break it down.”

Eddie scoffed. “You’re not gonna break your own door down.”

If Steve was right about what he thought might be happening in there, he’d do a lot worse than damaging a stupid door to stop it. 

“Try me.” 

Steve backed himself up, prepared to use his shoulder like a battering ram, when he heard the faint click of the lock disengaging.

The hinges squeaked as he pushed the door open carefully.

Eddie was huddled on the floor, wedged into the corner between the sink and the wall, curled in on himself. He rocked gently back and forth as he stared down at the knife gripped tightly in his hand. 

Steve kept his movements slow, kneeling down on the floor as far from Eddie as the cramped space would allow.

“I don’t want to be here anymore,” Eddie whispered.

Steve swallowed back a pained sound, blinking back tears as his fingers itched to reach for the other boy, to hold him. He might not be the smartest guy in the room, but he was absolutely sure that when Eddie said here he wasn’t talking about Steve’s house.

He inched forward, holding his hand out.

“Please give me the knife.”

Eddie’s eyes, red rimmed and puffy, shot up to meet his, and they still held so much anger—but also a hint of fear. He snarled, but released his grip on the blade, letting it drop to the tile between them.  

As Steve reached for it, retracting the blade and slipping it carefully into his pocket, he let his gaze roam over Eddie’s body, relieved to see no spots of blood on him or the floor. He wasn’t sure he could handle seeing Eddie part with his blood again. 

Eddie hugged his legs to his chest, tucking himself into an even tighter little ball, glazing at Steve as he rested his head on his knees. “Always think you know what’s best, don't you? Who put you in charge, why do you get to make that decision?”

“I don’t—I don’t know anything, man.”

Eddie’s eyes fell shut, sending fresh tears cascading down his cheeks. “Why couldn’t you just leave me down there, huh? I was as good as dead. It would have been easier, safer.”

Steve opened and closed his mouth several times. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say to that. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. He wanted to pull Eddie into his lap and never let go. 

Eddie sniffled loudly, wiping his face on his jeans. “I did what I did to keep Dustin safe, to make sure you had the chance to win, but I never planned on making it out of that place.”

Steve did reach out then, and surprisingly Eddie took his hand, letting Steve pull him to his feet—and didn’t let go. Eddie wouldn’t look at him, but he allowed himself to be led out of the bathroom, up the stairs, and all the way to the guest room where he finally let go, laying down on the bed to face the wall. 

Steve hovered in the doorway, a little afraid to leave the other boy alone, but he had no idea what he was doing. He was in way over his head here. He needed to call Wayne. 

“I’m not sorry that I saved your life,” Steve said quietly to Eddie’s back. “I could never be sorry for that, but I am sorry that you’re hurting.”

By the time Steve made it to the bottom of the stairs again he was a wreck, crying and shaking so badly that he almost dropped the phone as he dialed the Munson’s number from memory. 

“Hello?”

The moment the call connected Steve’s legs gave out, and he slid down the wall to sit on the kitchen floor, thankful for the phone’s long cord.

“Wayne…” Steve sobbed out the older man’s name.

“What’s wrong? Is Eddie…?” Wayne’s panicked voice came loudly through the receiver.

Steve pressed the phone hard into his ear. “He’s here. H-he’s laying down in my guestroom.”

“What happened?” 

“It’s… he… I can’t—I can’t—I can’t even say it.” Steve hiccupped, and his voice caught, his throat gone painfully tight.

“Breathe, son. It’s gonna be alright, but you gotta breathe. Go on—in and out, on my count.”

It took a few tries but Steve did his best to follow the man’s directions, concentrating on the sound of his voice as he counted off to five. Taking air into his lungs slowly, holding it for a beat, and blowing it out just as slowly until he felt a little less like he was going to pass out.

“That’s real good, Steve. You drop your head between your knees?”

He did, nodding as though the other man could see him.

“I’m sorry,” Steve whispered.

Wayne clicked his tongue. “Nothing to be sorry for. Do you think you can tell me what’s going on now?”

Again Steve nodded to no one but the floor and the empty room. 

“Eddie—he was drinking and I tried to get him to slow down, but he… he got so angry and then he said—” Steve cut himself off, unable to repeat the words, and skipped ahead to the worst of it. “He locked himself in the bathroom. I sent everyone else away, and I-I tried to talk to him, but… Wayne, he was in there, crying, holding that knife he carries.”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line.

“Shit,” Wayne cursed softly. “I knew he was having a hard time, but I didn’t think…”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault, kid. I just don’t know what to do, how to help him. I’m supposed to go back to work tomorrow night, I can’t afford any more time off. We might not owe on the trailer but there’s still bills to pay. I was already nervous about leaving him alone, and now—I can’t lose him, Steve.”

Steve didn’t even hesitate to make the offer. He’d been fired from the video store for missing too many shifts anyway.

“What if he stayed here with me for a while?”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Wayne said.

“You didn’t, I’m offering. I’m not working right now, so I can be home with him all the time and maybe—I dunno, maybe I can get through to him.” 

There was a long pause before Wayne spoke again, where Steve was afraid the man would turn him down. "I know there’s things… stuff he can’t talk to me about, that he can talk to you about. Are you sure about this?”

“I’m sure, and I promise I won't let anything bad happen to him.”

“I know, son, you’re a good kid. Okay. Let me pack some of his things. I'll be there soon.”

Chapter 4

Thanks and love to @penny00dreadful and @pearynice for all your help and encouragement with this.

Permanent taglist(open): @penny00dreadful @pearynice @hitlikehammers @bookworm0690 @wonderland-girl143-blog 

@goodolefashionedloverboi @themagicalari @awkwardgravity1 @rocknrollsalad

[mangoisms]

circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter four: walking slow (i’m all alone) | read chapter three

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 5k

━ warnings: blood, minor injury

━ masterlist

“So, what brings you to Keystone? Internship?”

You watch Flash serve himself a cherry Slurpee. Then after a moment of contemplation, pick up another cup and serve blue raspberry. 

Your eyebrows raise but you still answer. “Yeah. Internship.”

“You go to GU, then? Who are you working for?”

You blink and he’s at the counter, one blue raspberry Slurpee set in front of you, with him already sipping on his as he awaits your answer. 

“I’m here for Quickstart.”

“Quickstart, huh? Workin’ with Jesse Chambers?”

“Hardly. I’m just an underling with the PR department.” 

The company’s main location was in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, anyway, so Jesse Chambers, Quickstart Enterprises’ CEO, could be found there. Not to say she didn’t drop into Keystone’s location, though. She did. Quite frequently, according to your supervisor. 

“So you came all the way out here for it. They have a location in Gotham, don’t they?”

“Harder to get into,” you say dryly. “Plus, I couldn’t afford to study abroad, so this is the next best thing.”

He laughs. The sound surprises you, mostly because it sounds genuine. Any attempts to squash down your own pleasure at making him—a world renowned superhero—laugh that way fails tremendously. Oh, well. You’re only human. Anyone would appreciate making one of these guys genuinely laugh. If you made Wonder Woman laugh, you think your life would be complete. You could die there and wouldn’t be upset about it.

(Flash is cool but he’s not that cool, sorry.) 

His laughter tapers off, a smile lingering behind. He gestures to the Slurpee. 

“That’s for you, you know.”

“I didn’t want to assume.”

“Assume.”

Your lips twitch. “Thank you. I’ll pay for it.”

“Huh? What are you talking about? Kid, I wouldn’t get it for you and make you pay for it. That’s messed up. I’m paying for it.”

“You don’t—”

“So!” He belches, then pats his stomach. “‘Scuse me. What’s the dream, then? Y’wanna work at Quickstart after you graduate?”

You sip at the Slurpee. “Not necessarily… but I wouldn’t say no to it.”

“Then?”

You lift a shoulder. “Wayne Enterprises, probably.”

“Ooh. The big one. Not LexCorp? I hear the going rate for a spokesperson there is high…”

“Yeah, because they have to constantly field rumors about illicit R&D projects and illegal Kryptonite shipments.”

He barks a laugh and you shake your head, smiling. 

“Yeah, no, I’ll pass. WE has a better track record and they still pay well.”

“True enough. Probably also less likely to be indicted as an accomplice for something or another.”

“Exactly.”

“Ever thought about the Titans? Or the League?” 

“And be at constant risk of kidnapping or death?”

“To be fair, I think you have that risk when working at Wayne Enterprises, too. And also, we are obligated by contract to rescue any and all employees that get kidnapped.”

“The fact that that is a clause in an employee contract is a bit of a red flag.”

“Or a green flag,” he counters. “Wayne probably doesn’t have that. If you get kidnapped, that’s it. You’re just—gone.”

“That’s… a comforting thought.”

“Just sayin’. Though I guess the average person would be much happier with something ‘normal’ like WE. Family and loved ones, too.”

You nod thoughtlessly. “If my parents were alive, I’m sure they’d prefer that.”

He blinks. You wince. Right…

You take a sometimes flippant approach to the death of your parents; if anyone makes dead parent jokes the most between you and Tim, it is definitely you, though they never cease to amuse him and Steph. 

“It’s nothing,” you say in the next moment, glancing up at him. “Sorry.”

He huffs. “Jeez, what are you apologizing for? If anyone should—”

“It’s fine, Flash. It happened when I was a teenager. I have a bad habit of joking about it just to… not make things too heavy.”

“Sure. Sure. I get it. I’m, like, the leading authority on using comedy as a defense mechanism.”

You laugh. “Very self-aware.”

“I try.” He pauses, head tilting as he looks at you. “I am sorry, though. That they’re gone.”

You smile bracingly and shrug. “Can’t change it. But thanks.”

“And it’s cool what you want to do. Really. Good luck at Quickstart.”

You smile and it feels genuine.  

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

He gives you an exaggerated thumbs-up, then he’s gone, blue lightning zapping in his wake, fine hairs on your arms raising because of it. The accompanying gust of wind knocks some stuff off the shelves but you don’t mind.

Flash isn’t so bad. Not bad at all.

“So… what’s your story?”

“In the present, I am being harassed by a vigilante—”

A soft groan. “Come on. You know what I mean.”

You suppress a smile, fixing the display of Lays chips. Next to you, Red Robin watches you for a moment, then does the same for a display of Takis.

“Don’t you already know?”

“What makes you say that?”

People call Batman the world’s greatest detective. You’re sure the trait has to pass down to his underlings.

You relay that to Red, who huffs.

“We are not his underlings. That’s a little offensive, you know.”

“You know what I mean,” you say, throwing his earlier words back to him, stepping over to the candy section, organizing packs of gummy bears and gummy worms. 

You partially expect him to get annoyed again but he lets out a soft snicker, amused by something. Your gall, maybe.

But after thinking about it for a while, you are the person with the advantage here. After all, Steph and Tim know you are getting vigilantes as visitors. Even if you piss him or any of the others off, if they do something, you very much trust your friends to raise hell about it. 

And, well, there is something deceptively familiar about Red Robin. Enough so to lure you into this weird sense of comfort. Like he’s a friend or something.

(Which is ridiculous. You know that. But you can feel that way as long as you acknowledge it.)

“Pass me some gummy bears? Thanks. Well, it is true that I could get that information—”

“Not have?”

“I like to give people the benefit of doubt.”

“Really?”

“Give me a break,” he complains but you catch the twitch of his lips as he fights a smile. 

“Alright,” you relent. “You were saying?”

He shrugs. “A record is just a record. It’s not the full picture, is it?”

“I guess not.”

“So.” He makes an aimless gesture to you. “Fill in the gaps for me?”

You finally chuckle. “There’s not much to tell, Red. I was born here. Have lived here all my life. Parents are dead. Died in the earthquake. That’s really it.” 

“Sorry about your parents,” he offers.

“It’s fine.”

“But that can’t be it.”

“You seem very certain about that.”

“W-Well,” he stammers, making your eyebrows raise. “Just—call it a hunch.”

“Yeah, okay,” you say doubtfully. “Is there something specific you’re after?”

He relaxes some. “I mean… you’re in school, right?” 

You nod, deciding to pause your work right now to focus on this conversation, a bit curious yourself as to why he even wants to know. 

To better his reputation, perhaps. It is not wrong to say you have your own reservations regarding the city’s vigilantes but again, that’s just a side effect of their effective management of it—ruling by fear. Why change that for you? You’re no one special. 

“So… what do you want to do when you graduate? Any hopes and dreams? Anywhere you want to work?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“You sound like my friends,” you say, shaking your head.

Steph knows where you’d like to work. The answer has been the same since you started college and picked your major. The dream is somewhere like Wayne Enterprises. One of the few companies that you actually trust, that you think are doing good work for the world. 

But you obviously can’t say that to Tim, whose adoptive father owns the company. 

Steph says you can. That he’s not going to think you’re telling him that to get a leg-up in the application process. You believe it, too. You’ve known Tim long enough for at least that. But it’s still a little bit embarrassing.

“It can’t be that bad. It’s not, like… LexCorp, right?”

You laugh. “No way. Of course not.”

His lips curve, seemingly pleased by something. “Then?”

You scratch your cheek. “I dunno. Wayne Enterprises, I guess. They’re not… the worst.”

“No LexCorp, that’s for sure.”

“Half of the appeal.”

“What’s so wrong with wanting to work there?” he asks next, head tilting.

“Ah, you know…” you say evasively, turning to resume your work. “Everyone and their dog wants to work there. For a good reason, of course. I dunno. Guess I just feel a little basic for it.”

That’s a lie, of course. You’re embarrassed because of your connection to Tim and his connection to the company. Like out of all the companies that you actually want to work at… it’s the one his adoptive father owns. It’s the one where Tim himself had a brief stint as major shareholder when he was seventeen. Where he worked there for several years and only recently began cutting his work back…

He sits on that for a while, following you around like a persistent puppy as you organize things. 

“I think it’s a cool aspiration,” he eventually says after he helps carry a box of candy and chips to be restocked, kneeling on the shitty tiled floors to help you.

“Thanks, I guess.”

“And I don’t think you should be embarrassed about it… they try to do good at WE. Nothing wrong with wanting to join to help that.”

“Well, it’s not that selfless. I’d really be there to get them publicity and cover up scandals.”

He snickers. “Still. I’m sure your friends would support you, too.”

“They would,” you agree, sighing. 

“Is that bad?”

“It’s complicated,” you say vaguely.

“Un-complicate it.”

“Not a word. Also not that easy.”

“Isn’t it?”

The box with the chips is full of those styrofoam packing peanuts. You grab a bag of chips, then one of the packing peanuts, tossing it at him. He barely reacts as it bounces off the bridge of his nose, looking steadily at you. 

“Why does it matter to you?”

“I don’t know. I’m curious.”

You raise your eyebrows.

“You’re curious? Is that specific to now or in general? Because…” Can’t help but prod just a little at his intentions because it surely has to be something more than trying to prove a point. 

“Is it concerning for you to have my curiosity?” he asks lightly.

“Befuddling is a better word. You still haven’t answered my question, by the way.”

You have entirely abandoned the task at hand. Red is fine to stay crouching, not even once swaying on his feet as he shifts to face you more fully, but you are not him, so you settle on the tile, legs crossed underneath you as you look at him expectantly.

He tilts his head. You can’t help the way your eyes cling to the shift of his dark hair. It feels so familiar to you. Everything about him. Although this moment, the sudden tension, is not so familiar. The worst part is you can’t even decide whether it’s good tension or bad tension. He’s… annoying. 

(Beguiling, really.)

He sighs, the sound amused rather than tired, and your eyes can’t help but catch the lift of his lips. Pink and�� very soft-looking. 

“Alright, fine,” he says. “I’m curious in general about you. As for the why… you’re not the worst company I’ve ever kept.”

“And considering—”

“Considering the company I keep are the others, who are fine within their own right, as well as the likes of criminals, you’re a breath of fresh air.”

Your face goes hot. “So, the bar isn’t very high.”

“What, do you care for what I think?” he asks and something about his tone, gently teasing, makes your traitorous heart skip a beat.

“Of course not.”

“Really? Sort of seems like you do.”

Can’t deny that. Not with how flustered you’re growing. So, you deflect.

“And you?”

“I admit to it,” he says easily, shrugging, still smiling. “Like I said, you’re not the worst company I’ve ever kept. I like you. I want to learn more about you. And manage to stay on your good side, too.”

“You aren’t doing a good job.”

He leans forward, curve of his lips settling into something almost like a smirk. “Aren’t I?”

You glower at him. “You suck, you know that?”

He leans back, pleased as the cat that got the canary. “Whatever you say.”

Ugh.

It was a particular kind of pathetic to be treasuring all the things Tim ever gave you since he, you know, doesn’t talk to you much these days.

But you have to get your Tim Drake fill in somehow.

Today’s activity is the few playlists he’s ever shared with you, mostly alternative and indie, playing on the speakers overhead. Though it includes more than a couple Bruce Springsteen songs as well, again, in homage of his father. You and Steph can hardly tease him about it, other than maybe a poke at his affinity for listening to older groups, like Oasis. 

Either way, you aren’t thinking of making fun of him for it.

Mostly, you just miss him. 

Like you always do these days, accompanied with the usual soul-crushing guilt at the fact, at the why behind it. 

In this moment, however, you are not so willing to partake in the usual moral quandary or self-flagellation. 

Like you said, mostly, you’re caught up in missing him. 

“You know, I realized I never got around to asking how you are.”

Red’s voice startles you from serving yourself a cup of blue raspberry Slurpee. You barely heard him come inside…

A frown tugs at your lips. His voice sounds weird. 

Nonetheless, you press a cap to the cup and respond. “How I am in regards to what?”

“Everything that happened that night with Huntress.”

You step around the aisle. “I’m—holy shit, dude!”

Blood flows heavily from his nose. A bruise is already forming on his cheek and he leans against the counter, gloved hand cupped to his bleeding nose. Something about it doesn't sit right with you, stomach rolling at the sight of him injured like this. 

“It—it really looks worse than it looks.”

You turn sharply, not responding to that as you set your cup aside and snatch up several napkins, then stride back over to him. He takes them from you quickly, using them to stem the blood flow, leaning his head forward. As he does so, you spot a cut on his temple, bleeding heavily, too. 

“Jesus, Red, are you okay?”

He lets out a strained chuckle. “Shouldn’t I be asking that? You heard me, right?”

“That is so not the point right now. Wait here. We have some first aid stuff…”

“You don’t have to—”

“Save the heroics, Red. I do.” 

He reads the tension in your voice, falling silent. You take it as the sign to do what you need to, turning again to find the aisle with toiletries. You get what you need, then go back to him, finding him sitting on the floor now, napkins still pressed to his nose.

“Broken?”

His head lifts slightly at the sound of your voice. You sit down next to him.

“No, luckily. Just… got hit hard.”

“I can tell,” you say, frowning, eyeing the bruise on his cheek. “How’s the bleeding?”

“Starting to slow. Should be a couple more minutes. I’ll be fine.”

You purse your lips and don’t respond, instead opening up your supplies to take care of the cut on his temple. 

“You really don’t have to, you know.”

“And yet, you get to come in here and check up on me?”

“Kind of my job, isn’t it?”

“Since when has any of this just been about that?”

A brief moment of silence as you rip open an antiseptic pad, wiping your hands, the acrid smell of alcohol burning your nostrils. 

Finally, he lets out a tired chuckle. “You got me there.”

“Unfortunate that you had to stumble in like this to get that,” you murmur, reaching up for him with another antiseptic pad but pausing before you touch him. “Can I?”

“Yeah. Yeah, go ahead.”

You carefully push away his hair; it is damp with sweat, as is his hairline. Most likely from the oppressive heat and humidity and from whatever fight he just came from. 

“Gonna sting,” you say in warning, then press the pad to the cut. As it soaks up the blood and cleans the cut, you get a better look at it. Not too big or too deep. Head wounds always bleed excessively.

He says that exact thing in the next second.

For whatever reason, it endears you, your lips twitching, injecting some much-needed levity.

“I know,” you say simply. “Doesn’t look too bad, either. Not like it needs stitches, anyway.”

“Good. My patrol isn’t over yet.”

You sigh, shifting onto your knees next to him as you discard the bloodied pad, reaching for another one to clean the area around it. 

“Can’t tone down the savior complex even a little bit, can you?”

“I appreciate your help,” is all he says.

“It’s nothing. And, anyway, to answer your previous question… I’m fine. I’m used to that kind of stuff.”

“That’s not reassuring, you know that, right?”

You give him a look. “I don’t think you get to say that. But your concern is noted.”

He sighs. “There’s that, I guess. If you need to talk—”

“I know,” you say, cutting him off gently. “I know, Red. Let me finish this up…”

You find a band-aid large enough to cover the cut, carefully pressing it onto his temple.

“Should be more careful. This area is… dangerous,” you murmur, tapping lightly at the band-aid on his temple. You’ve seen and heard enough about people taking hits there and going down permanently. The thought of that happening to Red unsettles you deeply, something cold twisting your insides.

But Red doesn’t appear to be listening to you. Instead, he’s… listening to something else. You think it’s some kind of comms, initially, but then you realize he’s listening to the song currently playing overhead. Which you quickly recognize.  

“I’m On Fire? Really? Didn’t peg you as a Bruce Springsteen fan.”

It’s obviously meant as a tease and you need to put a stop to the growing grin on his lips immediately. The only one allowed to get flustered here is him. Fair’s fair, after all, after last week’s conversation. 

“Not a fan. It’s from a friend’s playlist.”

He blinks, expression rapidly morphing into surprise. “A—friend?”

“Yes, I do have friends. I’ve mentioned this before. It’s not mine, it’s his.”

“I… see.” 

He pulls the wad of napkins away from his nose in that moment, successfully redirecting your attention from his odd reaction. You lean around to get a look. Blood smears over his upper lip, the shadow of a bruise starting to form on his nose, swollen, too.

“Well?”

“Don’t worry,” you drawl. “You’ve still got the pretty boy thing going on.”

“That’s—” he stops and you watch, stunned, as he actually, honest-to-god, blushes.

Holy shit.

“That’s not what I was asking,” he eventually mutters, looking away sharply.

It amuses you, for some reason, and you suppress a smile. “Well, still. Sleep easy tonight knowing your good looks are not tarnished—”

He shakes his head. “You’re… really something, you know that?” 

“Thanks,” you chuckle. “It looks fine, by the way. Like you need to ice it—and your cheek—but fine. Not broken. You were right. Hold on.”

You get up and grab a can of Zesti from the fridges, then go back over to him. He takes it, pressing it over his nose and cheek, and you seat yourself next to him again, shuffling the used pads and supplies into a small pile, frowning a bit to yourself as you realize there are more pads than you recall. 

You don’t ask why or how he got these injuries. Not sure if he’d tell you. Not sure you want to hear about it, anyway. 

A bit of a stark reminder about what he does, isn’t it?

“So…” he starts a second later, pulling you from your increasingly morbid thoughts. 

You narrow your eyes at seeing fresh mischief on his face. This won’t bode well for you.

“Yes?”

“By you saying all that stuff about my ‘good looks’ and ‘pretty boy thing,’ that means you think that, too, right?”

“You aren’t half-bad to look at,” you concede, shoving down your embarrassment at being called out and admitting it, too. But in a roundabout way. Much better than stating quite plainly you do find him a little bit attractive. But that’s all it is. Attraction. Appreciation of a pretty face. 

“Not half-bad?” he asks, laughing. “Because that’s a nice way to put it.”

“I’m sure you’ll survive.”

A smile lingers on his lips as he looks at you and you can’t stop your own from mirroring his.

“Guess it doesn’t matter,” he says, glancing away first, gloved hand—clean from the blood now, which explains the extra antiseptic pads—reaching for his utility belt. “You took on the painstaking job of patching me up.”

“Wasn’t that painstaking, Red. Just cleaned the cut and slapped a band-aid on it. Band-aid is probably doing more work than me.”

“Still. For your efforts…” He produces a lollipop from one of the pouches on his belt with a flourish.

You blink. “You… keep lollipops in that thing?”

“Helps if we’re handling a kid,” he says and oh, okay, yeah, that makes more sense, you think, taking the lollipop and unwrapping it. 

“All of you?”

“Batman started it first.”

The thought of Gotham’s resident caped crusader carrying lollipops in his utility belt is an amusing, if not incredulous, one.

Red sees must see the doubt on your face, snickering. “I’m being totally serious.”

“No, you’re not. You’re just messing with me. This is payback for the half-bad thing, isn’t it?”

He laughs. The sound is achingly familiar as usual but the full picture of why it is familiar escapes you—like it always does.

“It’s not, I swear.”

“Sure,” you say. “Gotta be a hassle to remember exactly where it is, though, right? Since you apparently keep all manners of things in there?”

“Just what we need.”

“So, like, an arsenal of weapons.”

“Tools,” he corrects.

“Uh-huh.”

He fiddles with another pouch, pulling out something that you immediately recognize as a batarang. 

You've only glimpsed these but you’ve never seen one up close. The metal glints under the light. 

“Can I—?”

“Just be careful. Easy to slice yourself.”

You bet. 

The metal is cold under your fingertips, an unfamiliar weight but not heavy, exactly. 

Some people like to try their luck and keep batarangs they find as mementos, or sell them on the black market but the word on the street is that the Bats have never left one unattended; the people who take them never mention a direct confrontation, just that one day they have it and the next, they can’t find it, which, in your personal opinion, is more unsettling than a direct confrontation. But hey, maybe that’s just you.

“This would be useless without me,” he points out. 

“Right. Your batarang. Weird name, by the way.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“You just put bat at the front.”

“It’s a great name. And also I didn’t name it. This was already named by the time I came into the scene.”

He seems a tad determined to make you understand that. 

“I don’t know,” you say, pretending to give it thought. “You do seem the type to give obvious names. Like naming a Dalmatian Spot. Call a batarang a batarang.”

“I didn’t name it,” he repeats again. 

But you just laugh.

You laugh and laugh and laugh, thinking this might be the most honest portrayal of him and the others that you have ever seen. 

And it’s nice.

It’s… it’s nice.

(He isn’t so bad.)

“Wow. This is great. Like wallpaper levels of goodness.”

A snort. “I should hope so. You have no idea how many mosquitos bit me when I was up there taking the pictures.” 

Tim raises his arm and you lift your gaze from the screen of his camera to behold the few red mosquito bite on his forearm. 

“So, you didn’t listen to Alfred, is what you’re saying?”

“It’s April,” he mutters, dropping his arm, head shifting from its place in your lap. “It’s unnatural for mosquitos to be out already. Didn’t think I’d need the spray ‘cause of it.”

You pat his head comfortingly. “Well, your sacrifice wasn’t for nothing. This is really good, Timmy.”

You look back at the camera screen, where a picture of Gotham sits, captured from the top of Spillkin Hill in Bristol, affording a view of the entire city bathed in the golden rays of the sunset. 

“Thanks,” he says, sounding just a little embarrassed. 

When you glance at him over the camera, his head is turned, gazing out at the rest of the mostly empty quad, cheeks suspiciously red. If you pointed it out, he would blame it on the shining sun overhead. Even if you two are thoroughly hidden from the brunt of its rays beneath this large oak tree, only slivers of sunlight slipping through the canopy, casting leaf-shaped patches of light onto you.

The sunglasses on his face prevent you from seeing his gaze but it’s most likely the same—away from you, focused on something else. Tim gives as good as he gets but he’s become easier to fluster these days, after your return from the internship last semester. Especially with you. You aren’t sure why but the reactions are always amusing and stupidly endearing, so you don’t say anything about it. 

You two are waiting for Steph to get out of one of her psych classes, then the three of you are going to hit up Big Belly Burger and do some mini-golf afterward. Tim’s older sister and another one of Steph’s close friends, Cass, is tagging along. You like her. You two work on the same wavelength sometimes. 

Right now, you are just trying to enjoy this much-needed peace and quiet. The approach of finals is stressful as it always is but the good thing about it is that the quad is nearly empty right now; most students tucked away in the library, in class, or holed up in their dorms procrastinating their work. Plus, the thought of the summer off from class after—working still, but no finals or midterms to stress about—is a revitalizing one. 

You pass him back the camera—carefully, since it’s more expensive than a single class here at GU—and lean back on your palms, cool grass tickling your skin. Your allergies are going to have a field day with this but you don’t care too much about it. Not with Tim’s head planted in your lap, a reassuring, comforting, weight on your thighs. 

His attention is fixed on the camera again, flicking through pictures. You keep your gaze elsewhere, to give him his privacy, though you can’t help but tease him a little bit.

“Can you even see those pictures with these?” you ask, looping your index finger around the arm of the sunglasses, lifting them from his face. He scrunches up his nose in response and you laugh, terribly, terribly endeared.

To reacclimatize from the whirlwind of warm feelings inside your chest, you slide them on, smiling down at him when he squints up at you, clearly having to adjust to the sudden brightness.

Another flash of warmth in your chest.

Before you can do anything else, though, your eyes accidentally catch the screen of his camera and promptly widen as you realize what you are looking at.

Or better yet—who.

“Is that me?” you ask dumbly, because obviously it is you. 

It’s you, sitting out in the quad, a textbook in your lap, head tilted as you read its contents; simple and boring, by any means, yet, the focus of the camera and the sunlight falling over you turns it into something else entirely. 

You have absolutely no recollection of him taking this picture. 

His eyes widen—soft blue from the sunlight, pretty as always, you can’t help but notice—and he looks at the screen, too, grimacing. 

“Uh… yeah.”

Suddenly, you’re thankful for the sunglasses as heat settles in your face.

“It’s… it’s nice, Tim.”

“It’s—weird, I’m sorry, I didn’t—” he starts to sit up.

“No, no, no,” you quickly say, hand pressing to his shoulder, keeping him where he is. “It’s not. Really. I don’t… I don’t mind.”

You’re really overheating now but you don’t want him to go into panic mode and close off. Which is what you feel like might happen if you let him continue.

He looks at you carefully, studying you. “Are you sure?”

“It’s just… candid, right? Besides it’s you. And I know you’re not a weirdo stalker—” you poke his cheek teasingly “—so… I don’t mind. It’s nice. Nicer than I actually look, so… y’know. Thanks.”

A frown. “You always look nice.” A wince. “I mean, not nice, w-well, yes nice, just—you know, uh, pretty.”

You smile, once again hopelessly endeared; the feeling helpfully overtakes the sudden shyness at him calling you pretty, which is… something you will set aside for the moment. “Thanks, Timmy.”

He nods, seeming resolute to not look at you as he quickly flicks to the next picture; you make a conscious effort not to look at the screen this time. Your gaze lingers on his face—thank you, sunglasses—where his cheeks are still red and so are the tips of his ears.

You bite down a smile and finally look away. 

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[universitysunflowers]

Ok I've had some time to process heres my detailed thoughts (TBB spoilers)

First I want to get my biggest issue with the finale out of the way - Tech and CX-2. I have been delusional about him but not to the point that I wouldn't accept his death or other clones as CX-2, and I was staying open. But then they went and did exactly what I hoped they wouldn't: they gave us no confirmation of his identity at all and left him thumbtacked to a wall with no face reveal. Not only is this exactly what they did in Ahsoka, but I also feel like it left a huge gap in the finale storyline. They put so much emphasis on him throughout season 3, including the last episode, and we got nothing out of it. I also felt like this made Tech's death kind of meaningless?? Which I absolutely hate saying because of what he sacrificed in season 2, but why kill him when the rest of the batch gets to live happily on Pabu and grow old with Omega? Maybe the writers had a good reason and I just didn't pick up on it?

I also felt like we were gaslit into thinking it was Tech, only for the ending to imply he's been gone the whole time. Domicile? Phee? CX-2's fight with Crosshair and the waterfall? the way he got the most screen time out of a group that was so clearly meant to be an imperial reflection of the original squad? Idk guys I feel like we got cheated there.

I also wish we got some idea of what happened to Wolffe and Cody, but maybe that is an opening for another show? perhaps?

Ok now that that is out of the way I can talk about how much I absolutely loved the rest of the finale.

Emerie's character development was amazing I've been routing for her since the season 2 finale and you know those Jango Fett genes are coming in strong she will take such good care of those kids for as long as they need. I also think it would be cool to see her again in future productions, her character definitely has potential.

Echo survived!! All the parallels between him and CW season 6 Fives had me terrified that he was about to die but that arc trooper experience paid off. His reaction to Omega freeing the zillo is by far one of my favorite parts of the episode he was so proud of her and I was glad to see him work so well with Emerie. I am also fully ready to enjoy Echo and Rex leading a clone rebellion whenever they deem us deserving of it (looking at you Filoni). I know we don't have proof of anything but there are still to many unanswered questions surrounding the clones, I hope they finish those storylines.

The last Domino is still standing, they would be so proud of him (and his dad jokes).

Hemlock finally got what he deserved and oh I was so happy that Hunter was the one who did it, especially after all the batch went through because of him. And what came after that? Even better. We finally got a Crosshair and Omega hug (plus Hunter) and they all made it off Tantiss alive I mean what more could we ask for?

I have so many feelings on the ending and the epilogue and I'm not really sure how to put them into words but my first instinct when I finished the episode was to spend 40 minutes c r y i n g

they got a happy ending? they have peace and happiness on Pabu and got to see Omega grow up? Omega is going to fly with the rebellion and fight back against the empire?

and Tech will be with her the whole time???

I am unwell. This has left me emotionally unstable. Not only is that the best ending I could have hoped for given the past seasons but it is also such an amazing last look at their family. No matter how you think of them you have to admit Hunter was right, she is their kid and that will never change. That line alone will be living in my head rent free from here on out. Her last talk with Hunter was so well done and is one of the best moments in the whole show, but honestly Tech's goggles on her ship's dash is what broke me; he would be so proud of her I need at least 3-5 business days to process this.

Yes I have my issues with the unfinished storylines but wow that finale was something I don't think I will ever recover from. It may be one of the best endings we have ever seen in star wars. Like I said, I have a lot feelings and if I tried to put them all in a post it would have to be a multi-volume novel.

If you made it this far thank you! Feel free to add your own thoughts I like hearing what other people have to say. I'm just going to go burrow straight into the ground now and pretend I don't have finals next week because honestly who can be productive after something like that?

Oddly enough this is making me want to go back and watch the Clone Wars again, maybe Rebels too? Definitely making me nostalgic.

[intricate-ritualz]

i forget that people actually think that like. tom holland is the hottest man alive. and find men who don’t look like him genuinely ugly. like i come onto tumblr dot com and everyone wants to fuck that guy with the big nose that guy who’s “too fat” that guy who’s “too skinny” that guy with the eye bags or the moles or the uneven teeth or the whatever. i’m so used to seeing people online (Especially in fandom spaces) find men who don’t fit the eurocentric beauty standard Hot and dare i say even Hotter than people who fit said standard. maybe there’s something to be said about the amount of “outcasts” who find solace in online fandom the amount of queer people and other marginalized groups who are tired of tom holland Hot Guy copy pastes being the standard.

anyways. i recently showed a picture of ..oswald cobblepot from gotham😭 to a group of mostly cishet mostly white friends of mine. and they all acted like i’d just pulled out a picture of a smashed bug and said “yeah i’d hit”.. which shocked me a bit? like yes he’s not tom holland (no idea why he’s the Beauty Standard Hot Guy i’ve chosen just go w it ❤️) but i go onto my instagram story and say “smash or pass” with these pictures

and everyone “wants him” or whatever the kids r saying. like those awful eurocentric beauty standards are still very real and very awful and it’s kind of incredible how there r places on the internet where they are basically null and void. not just that, but also practically reversed. i’d bet money that if oswald cobblepot was played by a tom holland type guy there would be a Completely different group of people who “want him” .

now Obviously there isn’t a Complete flip in these fandom spaces of the beauty standard, as things like whiteness and thinness and youngness are still often sought after Along with like. a hooked nose. and like. oswald cobblepot isn’t even That “conventionally unattractive” or whatever. i only use him as an example bc that “incident” is what got me thinking about this. and it Definitely should be mentioned that it seems this phenomenon Rarely occurs when it comes to female characters/women. idk i’m sure there’s a way more sophisticated and insightful way to talk about this but i’m just an internet rando not a scholar. let’s just hope that someday my irl tom holland appreciating friends and people online alike will all be able to agree that oswald cobblepot is hot. and that Anyone can look a little different a lot different whatever and be desired just the same (bam. ended on a magical puppies and rainbows perfect world life lesson as all good late night tumblr rants do)

[thenextdawn-temporarilyclosed]

is it possible for a Wednesday x Reader where they are childhood friends but Reader went overseas and years later Nevermore has a new transfer besides Wednesday and that is reader but Reader is different compared to the young Reader Wednesday knew because Reader lost all memories when reader was young and Reader today is a prisoner who used to be a assassin (just like Black Widow but recently cured from brainwashing) and is staying in Nevermore while waiting for final punishment?

Prisoner of Mistakes

Word count: 2.3K

Warnings: mentions of Gore, Violence and Blood

There you go! I had a lot of fun writing this so thank you for the request! I did put a lot of effort in this so hopefully you like it!🖤✨

———

You and Wednesday were both kids when you met for the first time. You were older than her by 3 years, but you were still really good friends. You would play together since you had very similar interests. The way Wednesday grew up never bothered you, you always liked everything that was horror, killing, blood. So it was really easy for you to be friends with Wednesday. You would play all kinds of games, hell you even helped her dig up graves or make autopsies.

One day though when you were around 10, your family decided to move across the world to a scientist, that could help study your ability since no one could find a way to understand it. No one ever managed to figure out what it really was but it messed with your brain and it definitely was not something good. You never got to say goodbye to your childhood best friend because the decision to move overseas was so abrupt, and in your head and heart you never accepted it.

And for the first time you moved you never stopped going around the world, most specifically through hospitals. No one could pinpoint what it was you had, if it was an illness, if it was an ability but you were starting to get so tired of this. You just wanted to live a normal life as a normal girl and have friends, but you were never allowed that.

Then the worst thing happened. While performing an experiment on you, a doctor made a terrible mistake, he hit the wrong button on his machine and ended up erasing all kind of memory you had. Ever since then, your personality completely changed and kept on changing. You had lost yourself, you didn’t recognize yourself nor your parents and everything your brain had was long gone.

Talking about losing your way, you became everyone’s worst nightmare. You were now 16 and a serial killer. You were ruthless, they way you killed people was unbelievable to everyone. you cut their body parts, opened them up and mixed their organs around all while your victims were still alive. You enjoyed hearing their scream and lose their breaths before dying. Probably this “gore” part of you is the only thing that remained in your brain ever since you were a kid, given the fact that you’ve always liked this kind of stuff.

The way you would always get away with it was unbelievable too. Seeing how the victim had been reduced, everyone always thought it was an animal. You got away with it till some day you didn’t. At 17 you made a mistake when killing a guy and left a trace, which led the investigators straight to you. By now your parents had completely disconnected from you and changed their names. Not that you would remind them anyways. Of course you had a trial, but somehow the judge gave you two choices. You could either live forever in prison or go to Nevermore.

You didn’t know what Nevermore was, but you chose that. Apparently you had to spend there a couple years, and see if you would come back to your senses, see if somehow the wrong experiment would reverse itself. The judge knew that all of this wasn’t your fault, and he hoped that in Nevermore you would find something that triggered you and made you go back to the sweet girl you were before you took this road full of everyone else’s mistakes.

The day you arrived at Nevermore was an intense day. Nobody would treat a killer like a normal person, right? Right. Everyone at the school had heard that a killer would be coming to their school to study, but no one quite believed it until you showed up. At your arrival of course you weren’t alone. You got off the police car with police on both of your sides. You were cuffed and as you were being escorted to the principal’s office you walked through the quad. As soon as you did everyone went quiet and stared at you. You looked at them with a psycho-killer-smile and waved at them.

“Hey, look in front of you psycho” one of the guards said as he roughly grabbed you by your head and forced you to look forward. “Alright alright, it’s not like m I’m gonna kill people here with you around, morons”. They pushed you forward at your reply as you kept on heading towards the principal’s office.

Wednesday looked at you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she made sure that what she thought was right. “Enid I think I know her” she said, looking at the slightly taller girl next to her. “Why am I not surprised you know a worldwide known killer?” Enid replied not surprised at all, arms dropping on her sides. “She was my childhood best friend, she wasn’t like this. All I know is that she went overseas and then I knew nothing, but she wasn’t a killer, not at all” Wednesday finished her speech being sure of what she said, like most times.

After having talked to the principal she decided that it was necessary that she talked to students and teachers, so she called everyone in the quad and started listening. “May I have everyone’s attention please?” Weems started as you stood by her side, still handcuffed and with cops at your sides as everyone turned to look at her. “From today till the end of her studies, (Y/N) will be studying with us. Keep in mind that she’s a worldwide known killer so make sure not to get too close to her, stay away from her room and most of all DO NOT bother her. She’s manipulative so she’ll get you to do what she wants if you let her so I repeat, do not get close to her. She’s here on court’s orders so she’s not leaving anytime soon.”

That day finished like that, with you going to your room and the guards leaving the school, though making sure that your handcuffs were still on. There was no way they were letting you stay here without them even for the night, although the police officers would be coming back the next day, and they did. After having dressed up they escorted you to the greenhouse for mrs Thornhill’s class. The class had already started when you got in, of course you were late because you were trying to escape.

“Get inside psycho, if you continue we won’t hesitate to hit you and you know that so move your ass!” One of the police officers said as he pushed you, almost making you fall to the floor. Your balance was limited to a minimum because of the handcuffs. Everyone’s eyes turned to you as you had interrupted their lesson. “Fine okay! There’s no need for you to threaten me, jeez” you said as you headed to your desk. Of course it was away from everyone else. “I would think about what you do before bothering her. You both know how she can be right? I wouldn’t feel so powerful if I were you. She could kill you in a second and I’ll stay and enjoy if she does” Wednesday started.

“Thank you shorty, but I don’t need you to defend me,” you raised your hands, showing her the handcuffs “I have these so they’re right after all” you said smirking. You may look like a psycho, but deep down you hated how you were being treated. You were still a teenager. Wednesday looked at you with confusion on her face - for how noticeable it was - and turned back to Enid. “She didn’t recognize me” she told the blonde, and she turned to reply “well I would be happy about that, at least she doesn’t have a reason to kill you right?” The blonde ended the conversation like that. Deep down Wednesday was sorry that her childhood best friend didn’t recognize her.

The following days were pretty much the same, you would get pushed around by those idiots and a couple of times they beat you in your room for the bad replies you gave them. You had started submitting to them, having finally understood that there wasn’t a way out from this living hell and that no one would ever treat you like a normal girl.

This time you were in your Biology class, of course in your alone desk. You weren’t listening to the lesson at all, you were just writing on your diary. It was the only place where you had privacy so you would vent and write all kinds of things there. Then suddenly you felt a presence at your side, and realized that the girl you had learned to be Wednesday Addams had moved to sit next to you.

“Addams maybe you should go sit somewhere else” the teacher suggested, but she quickly shut him up “I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. If needed I even know how to defend myself so don’t worry about me” he nodded hesitantly and let her do. “What do you want Addams?” You started, closing your diary as she noticed the bruises on your arms, but decided to say nothing about it.

“Do you remember me?” The brunette asked without thinking of it. “No I don’t. Why would I?” You were quick to reply. “We played together when we were kids and I used to be your best friend. Then you moved when you were 10 and I never knew anything about you” she said, not once looking at you in the face. You wondered why. “Yeah well I lost all of my memory when I was 13 so for my cute little brain my life started at 13” you said and then everything went quiet for the rest of class, until Wednesday got up and sat back at her place next to Enid.

Even more time passed since then and things didn’t really change much. In school you had learned to behave and always went to class on time, but when you were in your room you would always end up fighting with the guards, who always ended up beating you until you passed out, and they also started tightening your cuffs, which started cutting on your wrists and leaving dark bruises and dried blood.

The day after the 100th fight with the cops you went to class with tears in your eyes, which you refused to let go. Arms full of bruises, yet everyone refused to say anything. You were breaking and you had no one to talk to. By now of course you regretted what you did, but at this point there was no going back. Nobody cared about your state, except for Wednesday.

Recently she had been Sending Thing to your room to check on you, luckily you hadn’t seen him. He saw every day how you would get beat up and of course told Wednesday. One day she finally decided to act upon this. Luckily the guards were only outside of your room so she only had to distract them to get inside and help you. Thing took care about this and Wednesday got in your room. She caught you crying on the floor because of the pain.

“…(Y/N)?” Wednesday asked quietly as she walked to you, kneeling down in front of you “are you okay?” She asked again. “Addams get away from here before I kill you!” You warned her in between sobs, but she didn’t budge from where she was “I’m not leaving. I came to help you” she said and without thinking of it she put a hand on your shoulder, but she didn’t expect a reaction from you.

She didn’t expect you to jump up on her and pin her to the floor, a murderous expression on your face as you looked at her while breathing heavily, but suddenly it all came back to you. 

How you would always play with her

How you loved your parents

How your parents loved you

How you were such a happy little girl

But then came the experiments

And with it the pain

And the depression

The killing.

Suddenly you remembered everything and it gave you a headache as you quickly stepped away from her and crawled backwards to the wall. Wednesday looked at you unfazed, like she expected it from you. But she didn’t expect you to pull back that way.

“What’s happening?” She asked you as she stood up and once again walked to you. “I- I remember everything..” you told her and began crying once again “I’m sorry- I’m so sorry Wednesday I didn’t mean to do anything of that- it wasn’t my fault” you started rantling. You were apologizing to her, she did nothing wrong but she knew that you just needed to say that.

———

From then on you turned once again to the girl you used to be, with the only difference that no one trusted you here at Nevermore, even though Wednesday told everything what had happened, obviously after you had given her consent. The court has been notified about this events and today you were going through another trial to validate what had been said.

They asked you questions of the past to which you replied, and then they called Wednesday to testify that you were back to normal. When they told you you were free to go you breathed of relief but then you asked for one thing you never thought you’d ask.

To go back to Nevermore.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Hi there! New follower here, and can I just say I LOVE how you write König? Like seriously, thank you SOOOOO much for not writing him like a soulless monster or something like I normally see when I look in the tags (I kid you not, I saw someone ask for a r@pist König fanfic not too long ago and it put me off him for a short while). Sure you write him crazy but you don't go that far. Thank you for that.

That being said, how would your interpretation of König handle a reader who has a history like that? Like maybe they were abused in that way as a child or a teen? They're in therapy of course and handle the trauma as best they can but they have that sort of fear of intimacy still, if that makes sense? Maybe they're still battling guilt/self blame, and feel like he could do better with someone who isn't "damaged goods" or something?

Sorry if it's bothersome but I'm very curious! Thank you, and I really hope you have a wonderful day! 💙🌹

Hey dear anon, welcome and thank you so much! 🩷💕

I can understand wanting to read dubcon and noncon at times, it’s all good and hey, to each their own! I can also understand the need to steer clear from these kind of fics (please, always take care of yourself and don’t expose yourself to content you don't vibe with 🩷) and I’m so glad to hear you like the way I write for König. I definitely love monsters with souls! Perhaps it tells something that everytime I *really try* to write a dark fic, I usually get comments like “weee so fluffy and cute!” :D Like did we win…?

As to your question on how would König handle reader with background of abuse:

König is not the most nurturing, tactful man but upon hearing about your past, he’d get super caring and tender. He has this fantasy of being a saving/conquering hero so, yeah, you just became his damsel in distress. To him, you're both a strong survivor and a fragile victim, so you gain something of a saint status in his eyes.

And he would never ever think you’re damaged goods, no. To him, you’re the purest of angels whose soul and body has been ravaged. For this alone, he’ll go to war for you, against the whole world if need be.

Violence is his way to deal with life’s big problems, so he’d want to hunt down and kill the perpetrator if they’re still alive, no question about it. He’d be willing to commit a good old murder and risk going to prison because he couldn’t stand it that this human filth is walking around unpunished. That’s his first way of dealing with this thing: eliminate the threat, then come and comfort you.

So… If you don’t want him to do that (either because you don’t agree with him about the measure of punishment, or because you’re afraid he’ll get caught/will face a prison senctence because of it), you’d have to get super crafty with trying to conceal who this person is because König is going to find out who they are whether you want it or not. He’d have such a hard time respecting your boundaries in this because someone has to avenge you. He has contacts and he can and will use them to get to this fucker and end their life.

Homicide aside, he’ll get overprotective of you. Has to have you in his line of sight at all times to make sure you’re safe and happy and ok.

Sex might be a challenge because König has a high sex drive. He adores you and would want nothing more than to be with you – preferably inside you – 24/7. This is how he worships you, shows love & intimacy and releases both of your stress. If sex is off the table sometimes, König would try to show his love for you in other ways such as cuddling you like crazy or accompanying you to the shower etc.

Any issues with intimacy would trigger his anxiety and fear of abandonment, and he’d get even more obsessive and clingy. Not in a whiny, co-dependent way, but in a “Everything alright, Schatz?” repeated 5 times a day type of way. König would nod and look like he understands completely when you tell him that you have these issues, but then proceeds to cuddle and smother you later anyway :/

Somehow thinks it’s his dick that might be a threat so he would try and not to flail it around you unless you specifically ask for it. Respects your boundaries on not having intercourse, but the other stuff, like squishing you against his chest every now and then or trying to please you with his hands or mouth are harder to negotiate.

Because he would try his all to give you mindblowing sex. He wants go give you good experiences, and gets a high out of making you cum multiple times. To him it’s like a hot bath, a three course meal and a year in therapy combined, to watch how you come undone. He's unusually gentle with his aftercare, and drowns you in praise when he holds you close.

Perhaps it’s a bit sick, but the fact that you both have suffered in your own ways makes you his one true love, sort of like a fated companion. In his mind, you’re soulmates who’ve gone through hell. He's also vehement in his belief that only he can love you whole again, only he can treat you right.

So the question then becomes, how do you survive an adoring, obsessive giant who’s made it his life’s purpose to make you happy? ❤️