#what is sam's tracking tag

[geminifourth]

เพลงรัก (Hook) Ost.แฟนผมเป็นประธานนักเรียน - Gemini Norawit

[angelsdean]

ruthlessly deleting old 2021/2022 posts (not by me) from my dean studies tag like *click* un-incorporating that from my beliefs system! also the way SO many posts have me like ok uh-huh good aaand then say one completely wrong thing that loses me. it's so many posts.

[hopeinthebox]

tagged by the exceptional @cordiallyfuturedwight and @cosmicdreamgrl thanks ever so much my loves <33

now tagging some heroes @aprylynn @thvinyl @visionsofgideontheninth @hoseeok @btscontentenjoyer @jihopesjoint @monismochi @raplinenthusiasts <333 and everyone else

[velvetjune]

the chapter songs in Alan Wake 2,, flawless

[krikeymate]

I was wondering about something. Sam calls Tara after therapy, she doesn’t answer and Sam goes “you’re supposed to pick whenever I call”. Do you think, when moving from woodsboro to New York, Sam made some rules about what they could or couldn’t do? Maybe they made some compromises because Tara didn’t always agree with the rules?

Very likely.

I want to say it starts post-5, where Tara has trouble letting Sam out of her sight. Sam promises to always pick up when she calls. Don't get her wrong, she hates leaving Tara, but Tara needs to rest and Sam has to go shopping and pick up their medication and be downstairs and out of her sight sometimes. So, Tara keeps her phone on her, fully charged and ready at all times, and Sam will always pick up the phone. She jokes that Tara had better always pick up the phone when she calls too, and she agrees.

We get to 6 where Sam has trouble letting Tara out of her sight, because Tara's behaviour has become more erratic since they came to New York. She's acting strange, and she's acting unsafe and this worries Sam, so so much.

One day, Tara goes out and nobody knows where she's gone. She doesn't pick up any of Sam's calls. So Sam goes out and tries to hunt her down, she doesn't find her. Tara was just chilling in a park, her phone deliberately placed on silent. She just needed to be alone and somewhere unfamiliar for a little while. By the time she gets back to the apartment, it's dark and... oh, Mindy is pacing in the living room?

Mindy drops the news that Chad and Sam are out looking for her and why the hell didn't she answer her phone - she has a lot of missed calls. Tara feel a twinge of guilt looking at her call log, she waves it away. She's fine, she just needed some space, it's not like anything is going to happen. Mindy calls the others and makes a retreat when they arrive. Sam is furious. But more than that, she's upset and scared, and Tara can't wave that guilt away.

Tara promises to always answer when Sam calls. She knows Sam was worried, that she was right to be worried, but she can't think of the reasons right now, she can't remember, she can't deal with this but if all it takes is to pick up the phone to leave these feelings in the past, she can do it.

As time goes on, Tara does more things that Sam doesn't like, she still disappears sometimes. She usually answers the phone. The more Tara becomes a stranger, the tighter Sam holds on.

[lover-of-mine]

okay so: opinions on buddie having a confession similar to the jolink one at the end of 19x20?????

(I know jolink have more of a romantic/sexual past than buddie do currently, but when I first watched that scene all I could think about was buddie, because of the fact that the kids were included as part of the speech but not the main focus, and the whole 'I'm so in love with you. How do you not see that?' bit and so many more reasons that have escaped my brain right now)

(Also full disclosure: I'm not a fan of jolink as a couple, and wish they'd stayed as friends, but I do love the buddie parallels/vibes they give me 😅😅)

((Sorry this was long!!! 💚💚))

(just to get it out of the way, I was fighting and kicking and screaming at them putting jolink together because they had such a great friendship and damnit media needs more friendships between men and women who are straight but not trying to get with each other)

I'm kinda obsessed with the idea of getting something like that now that you mentioned lol. I mean, there would have to be some adjustments, I feel like a lot of it works the way it does because they slept together and decided to say it was just casual, with the way they explicitly draw the line and said "no we are just friends" and I feel like that wouldn't work as long term as they played it with jolink when applied to buddie (not unless they want to make us suffer more for a few seasons but if buddie sleeps together then wakes up and go nah we should just be friends is never gonna happen again, I'll burn something down), but I am legit obsessed with the idea of Buck hiding behind Chris for a change and just snapping, listing things about loving Eddie and Eddie is just staring at him with his exasperated husband face and going "you idiot I love you too". If they kiss in the rain too I would spontaneously combust (with the lightning and the well and every bad thing that happened to Buck involving water and the way the moment they start getting along involves literal fire, the symbolism behind them getting something good in the rain would be everything to me really)

But since we're talking Jo, I rewatched the perfect storm the other day, that's why I ended up making the parallel between April and Buck, and I keep thinking about a situation like when jolex gets together. The whole they have a huge fight, Jo tells Alex to stay away from her, then she shows up hurt, Alex gets all protective, he's about to say it, but then the tree falls into Alex living room, and they ignore it until Jo says she doesn't deserve it, that she'll ruin it and Alex is all you asked yesterday you wanted to hear it I'm gonna say it but them he freezes, and she's all i don't hear anything, and they banter a little bit before Alex finally says he loves her and they kiss. I feel like if we get a proper build up with buddie where everyone is aware of where they are going and they keep fighting against it until something snaps but right before they actually do something the universe intervenes, and have them dance around the fact that they almost said it dealing with an emergency, all while the tension between them keeps getting higher, until they finally get a moment alone and they can talk and Buck is all we should just forget it, you're my best friend, I'll mess it up, depending on the nature of the emergency that stopped them you can even add a line of like "that was a sign, the universe was stopping us from making a mistake" that Eddie could counter with his level is skepticism "I don't believe the universe speaks to anyone and you wanted to hear me saying it so I'm saying it" and then freezing and having them banter back and forth until one of them says I love you and the other goes in for the kiss, could work. And it would be one hell of a scene.

So the conclusion here is that Jo has very buddiecoded love confession since Alex and Link get the best friend place before things evolve and either one of them makes for a killer getting together scenario for buddie.

[ardentpoop]

[17yearslatewithlattes]

Times people important to dean Dean tell him that they care about him in a way that’s nice, vs. times they do it while expecting to die or leave him:

Nice affirmations: 0

Trauma affirmations: 1

Additional notes: I am not including yellow-eyes disguised as John telling Dean he’s proud of him. I’m specifically tracking the ones where someone means it but only says it when they’re leaving/dying/expecting to lie. This doesn’t fit the bill, although is sure is a trauma affirmation!! Very ‘top 10 reasons Dean starts looking for the danger if anyone ever says anything nice to him’.

[ilaiyayaya]

Haha what if I hacked the Genshin Impact servers and hypothetically sent a server-wide message to all players that said "Haha I hackered the gaem and now you hjave to see this message where I tell you to have a very nice day and thank you for-a playing my game! :)" I think that would be funny I think

7 ROLLS AWAY FROM RATE UP PITY! 7 ROLLS!!!!! SURELY I'LL GET CLORINDE TOMORROW, ABSOLUTELY DEFINITELY!!! I mean I pretty much have a 100% chance of getting her before her banner ends as long as I get at least 1 roll per day since there's 8 days left but like, I WANT HER NOW!!!!! doing the math starts typing 80085 into my super calculator if I do my dailies and also do a *tiny* bit of grinding each day (open 1 chest) I have a 100% chance to get her before her banner ends, BUT, I'm a genetic freak and I'm not normal, so I got a 141 2/3% chance of winning at gambling (that means, tomorrow's the big win!). The numbers don't lie, and they spell disaster for THE FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT WHO INVENTED GAMBLING I HATE GACHA GAMES I HATE IT I FUCKING HATE IT!!! I JUST WANT FONTAINE YURI WOMAN #2!!!!!!!!

But, but, see here's the thing, I have god (lots of stellar jade) on my side, and jesus would never let me down, The Bear just knows that tomorrow SAM (I will not call her Firefly I don't care about shinji i only care about the robot shinji is supposed to fucking get in) is releasing in Star Rail, and I have loadsa rolls saved up in that game and also pity because I only roll on like 1 character every 6 months in that game because I DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT AVENTURINE I DON'T CARE IF HE'S GAY HE SMELLS WEIRD. I'm gonna get the funni epic hot epic funni robot hot robot and also her light cone while only spending 2 rolls total because god, jesus, and the bear all love me very much and want me to succeed in life (predatory gacha games) AND god, jesus, and the bear i need to fucking stop saying that it's becoming a problem i can't get that phrase out of my head getoutofmyheadgetoutofmyheadgetoutofmyheadgetoutofmyhead are just saving my Clorinde pull for tomorrow, that way I can be extra super happy and get 2 epic vimeo games characters in 1 day, thus tripling my life expectancy! it's so simple, it's not that I have bad luck, it's just that I'm actually the luckiest girl on the whole wide internet and ALL OF MY LUCK IS GONNA HIT TOMORROW ALL AT ONCE AND I'LL GET CLORINDE AND I'LL GET FIREFLY AND ALSO ELON MUSK WILL DIE AND ALIENS WILL COME DOWN FROM SPACE AND GIVE ME 1 BILLION DOLLARS AND UMMM YEA :))))

[dclovesdanny]

DcxDp prompts

Dan/Danny/Dani additions 1/5

Danny is adoption bait to the Gotham rogues.

Danny only went to Gotham university because it had a lot of ambient ectoplasm and he could fast track to the arrow space department in Wayne enterprises if he worked hard enough. He didn’t need adopting, he was already 19 years old and had a (strained, very distant) relationship with his parents. When he moved to Gotham, he expected to have to deal with people wanting to make him a new Wayne, not with all of the Gotham rogues immediately trying to adopt him.

So what if he defended Killer Croc from some asshole cops, accidentally exposing his fangs and had a conversation about being dehumanized with him that led to them having dinner on Wednesdays?

So what if he got into a serious conversation about the green gas effect and pollution (Sam had taught him well) with Poison Ivy that result in him coming over for dinner and Harley Quinn declaring him a ‘sweetheart’?

So what if he directed Frostbitw to help Mr. Freeze and now Nora invited him over for brunch on Sundays?

So what if he had a wonderful conversation with the Riddler in which they traded space themed riddles which lead to Riddler seeking him out sometimes for a game?

So what if he helped Mr. cobble pot by making him intangible when some people were driving by in about splash mud on him and he now had a part time job there as a bouncer?

So what if Grundy played tag with him every other Thursday and called him Little Death and offered to eat his chemical engineering teacher who gave him a low grade because he didn’t follow safety precautions?

This didn’t mean he was adoption bait. Shut up Sam.

[thewidowsledger]

Looking Out For Three

© thewidowsledger 2024 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Pairing: Avenger Natasha Romanoff x Agent Female Reader

Word count: 5.6k

Tags | Warnings: +18, Natasha has a penis (no smut though yet), pregnant reader, kinda gruesome details of organ taking/trafficking, self-destruction if you squint, angst, bad writing

Author's Note: This is a scheduled post; I just recently lost my cousin so I may not be able to be active here for some time but I’ll for sure check in once in a while. Happy reading! I hope you're all having a good time.

MINI SERIES: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

⧗

Natasha's eyes fell upon the woman's lower abdomen. Her stomach is slashed open, and the crimson depths reveal that something has been taken from within…

A baby, she could tell that it was a baby as the skin on the stomach of the woman was slightly stretched out and the umbilical cord splayed out on the bed.

A life that had just begun, now cruelly snuffed out.

Two lives cruelly snuffed out.

⧗

After Natasha had taken care of Strange, her focus immediately returned to you. Seeing your unconscious form, her heart broke as she frantically searched for something to cover your exposed stomach.

She found a blanket and tore it into a small piece and she gently draped it over your stomach, her hands trembling, staring at your wounded stomach. Tears streamed down her face as she looked at you, whispering words of apology.

“I'm sorry,” she murmured, her voice choking with emotion. “I should've listened to you last night, if I knew you wouldn’t…you wouldn't…” Natasha gasped for air but still trying to hold back a sob, she finally looked at your face. She held your hands and pecked a kiss all over it.

“I could've lost you, detka. I can't let that happen…I’ll never forgive myself if I lost you.”

“Everything's going to be okay. You, me, and our baby,” she smiled at the thought, wiping some tears on her face, “We're going to be a happy family.”

Tony landed with a heavy thud, the suit's thrusters kicking up a cloud of dirt and debris. Bucky quickly joined him, eyes wide as he took in the scene before him. A doctor's body lying on the floor, unrecognizable as its face has a lot of holes in it.

He started to move towards you and Natasha, but Natasha's steely glare made him stop in his tracks.

Yelena tried to approach her sister and offered her help but Natasha ignored her as well. The expression on her face was cold and distant, her only priority was getting you to safety. She carried you in a bridal style and the rest of the team watched, unsure of what to do, as Natasha carried out of the room and started heading onto the Quinjet.

⧗

Steve and Tony spoke quietly to each other, trying to make sense of the situation. Tony couldn't provide any concrete answers, but he did share one unsettling detail. He projected a hologram display, showing the scans of the doctor's body. The bullet holes were highlighted in red, showing exactly where each of the 21 shots had landed. The lone bullet in the shoulder was also indicated by a separate red mark.

“Here,” he said, pointing to the tiny screen. “21 bullets to the head and one in the shoulder.”

The team winced as they took in the information, their gazes shifting to Natasha, who was still holding your hand in her lips.

Tony shrugged, holding his hands up in a defensive gesture. “Hey, I'm not judging,” he said. “I've done my fair share of blasting people in the head too.”

The team started to look your way, their gazes shifting towards your unconscious body and Natasha, but then they quickly averted them when they saw Natasha glaring at them. They scrambled to look busy, trying to avoid her disapproving glare.

In an attempt to look as if they weren't just staring at your unconscious body and Natasha sitting close to you, Sam awkwardly broke the silence by pointing at the glassed windows of the Quinjet, “Wow, a bird.”

His words hung awkwardly in the air, only to be met with Natasha's continued glare and the team's collective facepalm at his failed attempt to diffuse the tension.

⧗

When the Quinjet landed on the compound, the team immediately got up and was welcomed by Clint as the door of the Quinjet slowly opened. He already knew what happened and he was on leave since Laura just gave birth to their third child.

He walked towards the bed where your unconscious body was laying.

“Hey Nat.”

She didn't answer, but as soon as Clint touched the bed to help her get you out the Quinjet Natasha swiftly pulled a gun and pointed it towards his head.

“Nat…” Clint called, the team became frozen in place at the sight.

“Don't touch her.” She said her voice was hoarse and shaky.

“Yes, I'm not touching her. I am touching the bed,” he offered a logical argument, his tone gentle as he tried to diffuse the situation. He immediately but slowly moved his hands away from the stretcher you were in and put them in the air where Natasha could see.

The room's tension rose even more as the team started calling her out.

“Romanoff.” Tony called in a warning.

“Natasha.” It sounded more authoritative coming from Maria.

“Natasha, calm down.” Steve’s voice joined the fray, calling out gently.

“Back down! No one gets to touch her!” Natasha furiously exclaimed.

Natasha's grip on her gun tightened further, she pushed the tip of the gun on the back of Clint’s head, her eyes beginning to well up with tears.

A ripple of tension ran through the group everytime Natasha spoke. The atmosphere in the room immediately grew heavy, and the team members instinctively also tightened their grip on their own weapons.

“No one’s gonna hurt Y/N, Nat…please.” Clint reassured pleadingly.

“Shut the fuck up!”

And with that a loud thud echoed through the Quinjet with Natasha’s unconscious body laying on the floor. Yelena, her sister sulking at the corner with her hands clenched into fists pointed towards where Natasha was and her widow's bite smoking.

“Izvini, sestra.” (Sorry, sister)

⧗

Dr. Cho launched into her report, clearly concerned about the oversight. Wanda, Steve and Bruce were in the medbay with you.

“So no one noticed the bleeding on her head?” the doctor repeated incredulously. The room fell silent for a moment, and then Steve spoke up.

“Natasha wouldn’t let us near her.”

“Yeah,” Bruce confirmed, “She came before the team, I prepped the stretcher and she immediately snatched it away from me, not even letting me help her.”

Wanda clenched her jaw in frustration, her eyes narrowing as she listened to the two about what happened. She couldn't help but feel annoyed and frustrated with Natasha's behavior, which had led to your current situation. If Natasha had just been a little more cooperative and let the team help her help you, you would've been fine and awake by now. Instead, you were lying unconscious in the medbay, not sure when you're going to wake up.

“And no one knew that she's pregnant?” Dr. Cho added that made the three wince in guilt, how could they not notice? You live in the same place for god's sake, in the same compound.

Wanda was particularly hard on herself, her face filled with guilt. She’s your best friend and you two had spent so much time together, she felt ashamed that she didn’t notice anything different about you, especially since the two of you are inseparable when Natasha was away for 2 months.

You always had a morning walk together, gets to shop together, you two always watched sitcoms together and trained together. Wanda could only remember a moment when she had accidentally hit you in the abdomen during combat training, and you had collapsed on the floor laughing at the witch. You were for sure pregnant at that time and Wanda could only wince at the memory hoping that hit didn't affect her growing niece at your stomach

And the fact that she covered up for you made her want to let the ground eat her, what if she just let JARVIS figure out that it was you who was pregnant? This wouldn't have happened to you…

“Don't worry, Y/N is stable" the doctor said reassuringly, “and she should wake up at any moment. However, we can't say for sure when that will be.”

She looked around the room, meeting the worried gazes of the team members who's nodding at her words.

“I’ll get her an ultrasound later which should give us more accurate information. For now let's give her body a break. And I need Romanoff here as soon as possible.”

⧗

Natasha tossed and turned in her sleep, distress written all over her face. She rubbed her eyes and slowly sat at the bed, she took the place in where she was; it was your shared bedroom. She can feel her brain pounding inside her skull but still, she immediately got off the bed as the first thing she thought was you, she found herself frantically walking down a dimly lit hallway, approaching a closed door at its end.

As she neared the closed door, she noticed a soft glow and a bed with a woman laid out on it, bathed in a dim light. The sight invoked a pang of uneasiness in her, but she couldn’t shake the compulsion to get closer.

Natasha continued walking, drawn to the woman on the bed like a magnet. Each step seemed to echo loudly in the silent hallway, but she pushed onward until she was near the bed.

With a heavy heart, Natasha makes her way to the bedside of a woman who lies there lifeless and unseeing. Her eyes, hollow sockets staring into nothingness…

Her eyes scanned the woman's body, taking in every detail of the horror.

The ribcage splayed open like a grotesque butterfly…

The heart and lungs are missing, leaving a gaping hole…

Natasha's eyes fell upon the woman's lower abdomen. Her stomach is slashed open, and the crimson depths reveal that something has been taken from within…

A baby, she could tell that it was a baby as the skin on the stomach of the woman was slightly stretched out and the umbilical cord splayed out on the bed.

A life that had just begun, now cruelly snuffed out.

Two lives cruelly snuffed out.

The redhead's gaze lingers on the woman's lifeless hand, before her eyes widen in horror. She recognizes that hand, and with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she starts to panic.

Her heart pounds in her chest as she spots a manila folder beside the bed, within her grasp. With trembling hands, she snatches it up and flips it open, gasping as she scrolls through the contents.

“Y/N Y/L/N”

Natasha gasped in horror, she flips open the file, page after page of personal information and photographs spill out of the folder, painting a detailed portrait of your face and body. Each page she turns reveals more information about you, and with each turn, her heart drops further into the pit of her stomach.

This body that is lying in front of her with no eyes, ribcage splayed open, heart and lungs missing, stomach slashed open and a baby taken out of it…

Is your body and your child. Her child.

“No…”

“No, no, no,” she gasped, “Fuck no!” She threw the folder away and your body was already gone in the bed.

She immediately shot her head around when she heard a faint cry of a baby, but as soon as she turned she saw a shadow of a woman carrying a baby.

She knows it was you only by its figure…

Your voice reached her ears, filled with desperation as you called out to her.

“Natty, love? Can we talk?”

“Help us, Natasha.”

“Natasha, please talk to me.”

“Natasha!”

“Natasha! Wake up!”

“No!”

Natasha jolted awake, the loud call of her name immediately took her away from the depths of her dream. She panicked as she found herself surrounded by the darkness of your shared bedroom. Clint was holding her and she immediately ripped herself away from him, her movements sharp and agitated.

“Hey,” Clint's voice was gentle, a calming presence amidst the chaos of her thoughts. “Natasha, breathe,” he urged, his hand reaching out to rest on her shoulder but Natasha flinched, “You’re okay, everything is fine.”

“Where's Y/N?” Natasha demanded, her voice husky and rushed as she moved away from the bed ignoring her best friend's concern for her because clearly, nothing is fine.

“Nat,” Clint circled the bed to get to Natasha and she immediately got into defensive form.

“Are we really gonna do this again?” He asked, his hands raised in a placating gesture. And that's when the memories came rushing back, flooding her senses with a torrent of emotions. She remembered the weight of her gun in her hand, the cold metal pressed against the back of her best friend's head and the team trying to calm her down. The last thing she saw was your stretcher above her.

Natasha's breath hitched as the memories overwhelmed her, and she felt her legs buckle under her. She reached out to grab onto the bed, her legs weak and unsteady. She had come dangerously close to losing it.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

Natasha's voice shook as she apologized over and over again, her eyes filling with tears as she felt the weight of her emotions bearing down on her. She felt Clint's arms wrap around her once more, pulling her into a gentle embrace.

He tightened his grip on her, feeling the tremor that ran through her body. “Shh,” he whispered, rubbing small circles on her back with his hand. “It’s okay. You're fine, Nat. You're safe here.”

Natasha nodded, taking a deep shuddering breath as she tried to collect herself. “Where's Y/N?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Clint, where is she? I need to see her.” Her eyes pleaded with him, searching for answers.

Clint could see the desperation in her gaze and knew exactly what she needed, you.

“You'll see her alright?” he said, a small smile playing on his lips. “But right now I need you to rest.”

Natasha was about to refuse, she needs to see you now, but she knew better than to fight with her best friend. She needed to rest, to get her strength back before she gets to see you again. She nodded weakly, allowing Clint to help her up.

“You shower, get some fresh clothes and I’ll have some food over. After that you can see your girlfriend.”

⧗

Natasha worked diligently, her eyes alight with a soft and caring glow as she arranged everything on the bed. She had brought out all of your favorite blankets, each one softer and more comforting than the last. Her eyes landed on the strawberry plush, and her lips curved into a soft smile. She remembered how you had squealed with delight when she had won it for you at the basketball booth at a carnival.

“Hey Nat, you ready to go? Dr. Cho is waiting for you.”

Natasha startled at the sudden interruption, blinking as she tried to shake off her thoughts. “Oh, uh, yeah,” she said, her voice a little softer than usual. “Did she ask me to bring something? Does she want anything? Food? How's Y/N?” Natasha continuously asked as she put the blanket and pillow on a bag.

But Clint only muttered, “C’mon,” not wanting to break the news himself to her best friend. He’ll let Dr. Cho do the job on answering that.

Natasha felt her heart beat faster with each step as she and Clint made their way to the Medbay. She could feel her hands trembling, but she clenched them into fists at her sides, trying to keep her composure. As soon as she entered the medbay, she saw Dr. Cho and Wanda by your bedside. Her eyes immediately went to your unconscious form on the bed, her worry deepening. Why aren't you awake yet?

She felt Wanda's intense gaze on her and Natasha immediately put her face away from her direction, gripping the bag she brought. She couldn't shake off the feeling of discomfort of the witch’s presence.

Dr. Cho, as if reading the room, asked Wanda and Clint to give them privacy.

When the two left the medbay, Natasha finally allowed herself to breathe. The witch's intense gaze had made her uneasy, adding to her worry about you. She let out a long sigh of relief as the doors closed behind them, leaving her alone with Dr. Cho.

“How are you feeling, Romanoff?” Dr. Cho started.

“I’m fine. How is she?” Natasha immediately asked as she put the bag down at the side table of your bed.

Natasha's eyes lingered on your unconscious form, she carefully held your hands and a sudden flash of her dream returned to her mind.

Your body lying in front of her with no eyes, ribcage splayed open, heart and lungs missing, stomach slashed open and your baby taken out of it…

She immediately shut her eyes to remove the thought in her head, the urgency she felt in the dream now mirrored in the real world.

“Romanoff.”

Natasha's gaze snapped to Dr. Cho at the sound of her name, quickly trying to mask her panic with a cool, calm expression. She took a deep breath, her voice coming out steady and collected, “Yeah? H-how is she?” she asked once again.

“Y/N suffered a blow to the head, causing significant trauma. There's no way to predict when she'll regain consciousness...”

Natasha's brow pinched at Dr. Cho's words. The idea of you being unconscious, possibly for an extended period of time, weighed heavily on her. She searched for more information, “Are you saying she's in a coma?”

“A light one.” The doctor pointed out, correcting her.

“And the baby?”

Natasha's gaze shifted from your face and to the printed ultrasound image Dr. Cho handed her, she shakily reached out to get it and her other hand never leaving yours. Her features softened as she took in the small, blurred figure on the paper. “So that's our little one?” she murmurs, a touch of awe in her voice.

Dr. Cho nodded, smiling gently at Natasha's reaction. “Yes, that is your baby at 12 weeks. As you can see, the limbs are well-formed and the baby's major organs have started to develop…”

“Oh look at that! That's your baby Romanoff!”

“Romanoff, your baby is healthy and developing just like it should. All the organs, muscles, limbs and bones are in place.”

Natasha winced as Dr. Cho pointed out the tiny head, spine, and other features of the developing fetus to her, explaining that these details were visible at this stage of pregnancy. Natasha tries her best to listen attentively, but the memories are trying to get back in her head.

“Did you know she was pregnant?”

“You didn't know until now did you?”

“Oh, that's a shame.”

“You are a bad mother.”

“Romanoff, are you sure you're alright?” Dr. Cho asked, worry written all over her face as she noticed Natasha drifting off once again.

“Yeah,” she answered dismissively, “There's uhm uhh…a cut on her stomach—”

“It's all patched up now.” The doctor said reassuringly, not letting her finish.

“Can I uhm…can I have some time with Y/N alone?”

“Of course, whatever you need. I’ll leave you two now.” Dr. Cho tapped Natasha's shoulder for comfort as she retreated to the medbay.

Natasha swallowed thickly, her throat constricting as she finally, finally felt like she could breathe freely. It was just the two of you now and that's what she needed. The machines beeping in the background seemed to fade into the distance as Natasha's gaze locked onto your unconscious form.

She was acutely aware of the soft rise and fall of your chest as you slept, the gentle curve of your belly where your little bean settled.

“Detka, I need you to wake up now…” she said as she gently removed the blanket you had and replaced it with the ones she brought, which is your favorite one. She now pulled the strawberry plush and laid it beside your pillow.

“I need you to wake up so I can make it up to you.” Natasha gently brushed a strand of hair from your forehead.

A single tear slipped down her cheek as Natasha brought your hands to her lips, pressing a tender kiss before resting it gently on her cheek. She closed her eyes, taking in the warmth of your skin against hers before falling into slumber.

⧗

You slowly blinked your eyes open, your senses still groggy from whatever they put or injected in your body. Your left hand was wrapped around by a figure, holding it close as they slept sitting up right next to you on the bed.

Your right hand snatched the nasal cannula out of your nose and the IV lines that are connected to your forearm. Slowly, you pulled your left hand out of the tight hold of the figure sleeping beside your bed. You started to breathe hard, finding some support for you to stand up.

Natasha's eyes snapped open as she felt the bed movements and the warm hand she's holding is now out of her grasp.

“Baby? Hey…”

She felt alarmed hearing the machine beeping continuously and the oxygen out of you. You snatched everything that is connected to your body and now slowly moving away from the bed.

“Detka,” she called again, holding her hands out even though it's your back facing her.

But you didn't hear, there’s this loud thumping in your ears, you can feel as if someone is hammering your head, and the only thing you can see is a blur. Nothing is clear and you’re feeling numb.

You continued to move until your feet felt the cold tiled floor and that's when you lost consciousness for a second. You can only feel a warm body catching you, you locked eyes with the emerald ones before you feel your body taken out from her embrace.

⧗

Natasha paced back and forth outside the medbay, her mind racing as she waited for word about you. She was still reeling from the events that had led to this moment, and she couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness that had settled into her bones.

“You deserve it.” Wanda’s words cutting through the air like a knife. “You're the reason why she's there.”

“Whatever is happening to you right now, you deserve it.” She spat, Natasha now sat outside the medbay, her hands over her head as she faced the floor. “I am one blink away from invading your mind, to see what happened but I respect Y/N so much. You deserve everything that you feel right now, every guilt and shame. You deserve what's happening to you but my best friend doesn't deserve to be there!”

She could only bite her cheek, shutting her eyes as if she's not hearing the witch, but she could feel the heat of Wanda's words as they washed over her, stinging like a slap in the face.

Natasha and Wanda both turned their attention to Bruce as he stepped out of the medbay, the tension between them dissipating in an instant. Wanda took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down and Natasha immediately stood, her heart thumping on her chest wanting to hear about your condition.

“How is she?” The two redheads asked in unison, Wanda can only roll her eyes.

“She's awake now.”

Wanda didn't waste a second moving inside the medbay, walking past Natasha and Bruce.

“She's stable for now,” Dr. Cho informed Natasha who was left outside the medbay, “she just disassociated when she woke up earlier.”

Natasha nodded peeking over the doctor’s shoulder to get a sight of you but she can only see Wanda sitting beside your bed.

“Hey…how are you lyubov?” Wanda asked her fingers grazing yours.

“I feel weak,” you mumbled but gave the witch a soft smile, you managed to hold her hand that made Wanda sob. “Hey, I’m fine Wanda.”

She held your hand tightly and brought it to her cheek, “You should be, you really should be.” You hummed as you wiped the tears that streamed down to her face.

Natasha stood just outside the medbay entrance, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched you and Wanda interact. Your eyes flick towards her and you can read her lips muttering, “Hey,” to you.

“I want to rest for a bit.” You said, immediately avoiding Natasha and the witch noticed the tension between you and your girlfriend.

“Sure.” Wanda was about to stand to leave when you held your hands up, “Stay, Wanda. Please.”

Natasha could read the situation clearly, you didn't want her around. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut because all she wanted to do is to hold you and pepper you with kisses, take care of you. But she did notice what you want and it's not her, so she respectfully stepped back, retreating out of the medbay. The coldness in her chest had deepened into an ache, but she pushed it down as she always did.

For now, she’ll give you what you need but she will never stop trying and making it up to you.

⧗

Dr. Cho informed Natasha that you are now discharged and can leave the medbay anytime soon.

Right now, she's supposed to be sitting right next to you, apologizing or…begging for forgiveness, peppering you with kisses or cuddling you. But instead here she is walking alone to your shared room. Natasha had held back her tears as she walked towards the room, but the moment she stepped inside, the floodgates opened. She couldn't hold back any longer. She let out a choked sob and collapsed onto the floor, burying her face in her hands.

Suddenly, Natasha surged to her feet, fists clenched at her sides. She couldn't contain her anger and frustration to herself any longer. With a roar of rage, she began to pummel the walls of the room, punching it with all her strength.

Eventually, Natasha's frenzy subsided, and she steadied herself against the wall, forehead resting against its cool surface. Natasha took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She closed her eyes and imagined herself in your embrace, feeling your arms wrapped around her, holding her down and keeping her grounded like you always do.

“You cannot be like this,” She whispered to herself. “You have a wife and a baby on the way to look up to. You cannot…you cannot be like this.” She repeated, as if trying to drill the words into her own brain.

Natasha slowly turned back, surveying the room with keen and puffy eyes. Without hesitation, she removed her jacket and top revealing her gray sports bra and started deep cleaning everything. Something that will occupy her for a while besides she doesn't want you to come back here with a messy and dirty room, though you always make sure that your shared bedroom is clean, both of you have tasks on what to do, on who's gonna do this or that, clean this or that. Actually it's you who gave her tasks, Natasha can be careless and a messy person at times but with you, it all changed.

Natasha started to take off the cover of the pillows and replaced them with fresh, clean ones from the closet. She then moved onto the bed sheets, pulling off the used ones.

After that Natasha moved to the bathroom, checking every corner, she pulled out the trash and some stuff scattered at the counter. When she opened the cabinet she was welcomed by a pregnancy test, not just one but three tests with two lines showing in each one.

Natasha picked the three, studying each one carefully before setting it back down again at the counter. She wondered if this was the thing you wanted to talk about before the mission. She clenched her jaw remembering how she treated you that night.

A call on the door pulled Natasha out of her thoughts. She retreated from the bathroom, taking a deep breath before opening it to reveal Clint standing on the other side.

“Hey, here's the flower you asked me to get.”

Natasha smiled as she took in the sight of the beautiful bouquet that Clint had brought for you. “I know you asked me to buy roses, the pink ones which is Y/N’s favorite but I saw these chrysanthemums and carnations. I bought this for Laura when she was pregnant with our Nathaniel. You should avoid-strong smelling flowers. Y/N’s sense of smell might be a little bit sensitive now.” Natasha listened intently as she had seen how Clint handled being a father of three. How he was able to protect her family while being an Avenger so might as well take her best friend’s every advice.

“You might wanna do some research. It's gonna be a lot but I know you two can do it.” She nodded solemnly. “Thanks, Clint.”

“Mood swings, Nat,” Clint chuckled as she warned Natasha, “It's gon’ be a hell of a ride.”

“Oh yeah it is, even though she wasn't pregnant yet it was a rollercoaster already.” She smirked remembering how she handled your mood swings during the course of your relationship.

“Oh Nat, now it's gonna be a whole new level.”

After a few more words of farewell, Natasha went back inside the room, and placed the flowers gently in a vase beside your shared bed. She filled the vase with water from the bathroom sink, letting it flow over each bloom as she arranged them.

Natasha settled on the couch after putting back the vase beside the bed. She put on some headphones as she lost herself to some music. An automatic vacuum hummed quietly in the background, gliding smoothly over the floor and picking up any debris.

Natasha indeed took Clint's advice, she was reading and researching about the changes that were happening to your body and what to expect during the course of the pregnancy. You're now in your 12th week and she read that during week 12 of pregnancy you’re wrapping up your first trimester and the odds of miscarriage are highest in the first trimester.

She took notes and made a mental list of things to expect.

“Your baby is only as big as a passion fruit but is growing and developing.” Natasha read to herself.

“Baby bump’s first appearance depending on the body type, food cravings, weird food cravings,” Natasha murmured, she continued, “Dizziness, mood swings, sore breast, heightened sense of smell,” She hummed, remembering her best friend's advice about sensitivity of your smell.

Natasha did a double-take as she read the last item on the list.

“Spike in sex drive?”

A knock on the door interrupted her researching and reading and she quickly put her headphones down, turning her attention towards the entrance.

She opened the door to see you standing there, a strawberry plush in your hand, and Bruce behind you carrying the bag of blankets she brought in the medbay. Her eyes widened slightly but she quickly composed herself, her expression softening as she took in your face, “Hey.”

You took in the sight of Natasha, your mind being in a haze. She is dressed in a gray sports bra and matching sweatpants, headphones clinging on her neck. Her arms were flexed like always and you could see the details of beads of sweat on her defined abs. Your breath hitched in your throat.

Natasha, noticing your gaze on her, quickly took the bag from Bruce. You walked past her already and went inside the bedroom.

“Dr. Cho will check in on her periodically.” Bruce informed the redhead.

“Thanks, Bruce.”

You sat at the bed slowly, noticing the new sheets of the bed and the flowers, the smell of it invading your nostrils. You caress the softness of the sheet while the strawberry plush sat on your thighs.

“Hey baby, how are you feeling?” Natasha asked as she closed the door. She put the bag down where you put your dirty laundry.

“Baby?” She called again, “You know you can't avoid me forever.”

“Yeah, like you did me the other night?” you replied with a dry tone.

A heavy silence fell between the two of you and Natasha bit her lower lip in contemplation. Without hesitation, she immediately removed the headphones from her neck and walked in your direction. She gently knelt in front of you, placing the plush beside you as she took both of your hands in hers. Her bright green eyes searched for yours.

“Baby,” she began, her voice gentle and soothing. “I'm sorry.” She paused, her thumbs rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hands. “Please, I was out of my mind that night,” her voice is becoming shaky this time. “It was the stupidest thing I ever did,” she continued, the regret evident in her expression. She swallowed hard, squeezing your hands gently. “Please, forgive me detka? I promise it won't happen again. I’ll take care of you, cook for you, buy you gifts, whatever you want baby, just—just forgive me.”

You actually stopped listening when she said “I’m sorry” all you could focus on was her arms untensing and tensing with each movement of her hands gently gripping your own. And the smell of the flowers were now gone as your girlfriend’s cologne, which was your favorite cologne of hers, started to envelop your senses. You don't know why you're being like this.

Natasha watched as you yawned, “I'm sleepy,” you slur.

“I uhh…alright baby,” She immediately let go of your hands and stood up, hesitating for a moment. She gently guides you as you lay down to your shared bed, putting the comforter all over your body and handing you the strawberry plush.

“Sleep tight detka, I’ll be here,” to her surprise, you hummed in response as you snuggled the strawberry plush close to you, a small sound that filled the air between the two of you and it made Natasha's heart jump. She took that as a good sign and she will for sure do anything to earn your forgiveness.

Next

[caffeinatedvigilantewriter]

Idk if anyone done this, but we’ve all seen the post/fics of Danny being related to the Wayne’s (I even made one about Sam being related to Bruce, if you want to go check that out) but what about Tucker?

Specifically Tucker being related to Duke

Ok, so the senerio is The Foleys check their family tree and find a branch that they overlooked, the Thomases.

After a quick google search, they figure out that they all died except for Duke, so they invite him over to stay for a week or so.

Duke gets the letter and immediately googles up Amity Park and finds nothing. no news, no nothing except for the slogan ‘the most haunted town in America!’

So, in true Bat fashion, he packs his bags and boards a plane.

He quickly realizes that the slogan was not just for tourism.

This ties directly to the theory that ghost exist on a different light spectrum, and because Duke has light powers, he can see them.

He is freaked out, but he can’t leave now, regardless of the ghost, he wants to meet his extended family

The first dinner goes great, he meet his extended family and gets along great with Tucker, and who’s around a year younger than him.

The next day, Tucker takes him on a tour of the town, and they meet up with Tucker’s best friends.

The girl is relatively normal, with pale skin and gothic style.

But the boy looks dead on his feet. He has lightning scars and bandages peeking out from under his NASA shirt and his skin is cold to the touch.

But the strangest part is the white haired ghost hanging over his shoulder, with eyes the color of the Lazarus pits.

Dukes holiday is already strange enough now, and the ghost attacks are something he wasn’t expecting either. The residents completely ignored any ghost brawl, stating to him that Inviso-Bill will handle it.

Inviso-Bill is also a ghost, but apparently he’s a ghost vigilante and is strangely familiar to Duke. At least that’s how Tucker explained it to him,, and the younger boy seems oddly defensive about the vigilante. Tucker also said that he’d prefer to be called Phantom.

Regardless, Phantom is shit at heroing, getting injured a lot more than he needed too and without any proper combat training, he is on the fast track to dying again.

And Duke realizes exactly why Phantom is familiar.

Not only does Phantom have the same lightning scars as Danny, but he’s the ghost hanging over the kids shoulder.

And under no good circumstances would Duke let him continue fighting with proper training.

If you use this idea, plz tag me :)))

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

Green | Part 3

What were you thinking?

Tags/Warnings: Rabbit hybrid!Jungkook, Fox hybrid!Reader, Single Dad!AU, strangers to lovers, Fluff, romance, angst

Length: ~3k words

-> Masterlist

There is no taglist for this fic.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

You’re busy thinking about what to buy for dinner later, when suddenly, you feel a small hand tug on the hem of your jacket.

One look down, and you spot the by now familiar face of Jungkook’s little daughter, ears all folded downwards, eyes glossy with fear, and you instantly seem to snap right into a protective mindset, squatting down to her level. “What’re you doing here all by yourself?” You ask kindly, a bit surprised that she freely and almost eagerly clings to you, walking closer to have as much physical contact as possible- most likely to soothe herself. “Where’s dad, hm?” You ask further, and Minji just shakes her head, moving one of her hands to pick at her bottom lip. She then decides that you’re now her best bet, as she clings to you, making you think. “you wanna go sit in the cart?” You ask her, and she looks, before she shakes her head.

Well, you’ve not worked as a daycare worker for nothing.

So you pick her up, careful to make sure she’s securely placed against your hip, before you take out your phone to dial Jungkook’s number- just for it to not go through, signal too bad within the large store. “Let’s see..” you mumble, checking your surroundings before you move to walk closer to the exit, signal returning a little as you try again. Minji has calmed down by now, which surprises you- her attention now completely caught by your ear that’s closest to her, though she decides against reaching out for it, instead inspecting your necklace.

“I’m sorry, it’s not very good timing-“ Jungkook’s voice comes out of your phone’s speaker, panic clear in his tone as his daughter’s ears instantly move up and towards the phone in interest.

“I think I’ve got what you’re looking for.” You say, adjusting her a little as she giggles, visibly having relaxed now. “I’ll be waiting near the exit. I’m next to the ice cream section.” You say, and he hurries out a response, before he hangs up.

“I lost Sam.” Minji tells you quietly, looking for your reaction, as you watch her as well. You’ve not interacted much yet, but you’re honestly excited that she’s warming up.

“Sam?” You ask, and she nods.

“He.. wears like.. pants.” She explains. “that go like this..” she motions over her shoulders- she’s probably talking about overalls. “He’s a frog.”

Oh. She’s probably talking about a stuffed toy.

“Maybe we can look for him later. Is that why you got lost?” You ask, and she nods.

“Dad dropped him.” She explains. “now he’s alone.”

“I’ll track him down, no worries. Did you lose him inside the store here?” You ask her, and she nods. “You remember where?”

“There was big pots.” She explains. Jars, maybe? You’ve got an idea where she might have lost the soft toy. But before you can think about it much more, Jungkook’s boots can be heard, as he jogs towards you with his daughter in your arms. Minji doesn’t seem to see the severity of the situation at all- happily waving towards him, as if she didn’t just give him a heart attack.

“Jesus Christ, thank God you found her. Minji!” He scolds, and you want to tell him to calm down first before lecturing her- but you’re not in any position to do so, rather leaning down to set her onto her feet. But the sight of her dad all upset makes her shake her head, eagerly clinging to you, trying to climb back onto your arms by pulling on your jacket as best as she can. “you can’t run off like that!” He continues, while his daughter begins to cry into your chest, hiding away in shame. You share a look with him and he sighs, clearly getting your message as he calms down, letting his adrenaline slowly pass.

“Let’s go find Sam now, hm?” You ask her, wiping her cheeks as she nods, before she looks over her shoulder at Jungkook, who seems confused. “Her stuffed toy. She said she dropped it somewhere in the store-”

“No, dad dropped him!” She whines towards you, and you laugh, nodding.

“-YOU dropped him, and now we’re gonna go find him.” You say, getting up to put her in your shopping cart, having her sit down instantly. Jungkook follows quietly, still slowly working on relaxing again, while you look through all the different areas of the store, always on the lookout for something on the floor maybe. But there’s no sight of it- either someone has already picked it up, or it got kicked beneath the large shelves somewhere.

Jungkook is getting ready to call it quits, when you suddenly move away from pushing the cart, looking under one of the larger display shelves, something poking out there- and surely enough, while incredibly dusty, that seems to match the description the little girl had given earlier. “Hm, I think he needs a bath once you all go home though.” You laugh, dusting the poor toy off before you give it to Jungkook.

Minji reaches for it, but you carefully pull her hands back. “Sam is a little dirty right now. I’m sure you can have him back after he had a good scrub at home though.” You reassure her, and she nods, eagerly watching where Jungkook puts the toy now, visibly suspicious of her father now that he already lost her little friend once before.

Once the little runaway is back in the car and safely buckled into her seat, Jungkook sighs, door closed. “Thank you. I’m sorry I got so riled up-” He starts, but you shake your head.

“It’s understandable. I didn’t.. Want to overstep any boundaries by telling you what to do- and at the end of the day, it’s not my place to speak against how you act towards her.” You explain, and he shakes his head.

“If this is supposed to work, we’ll have to work together.” Jungkook disagrees. “I do agree that.. We should keep our steps slow and steady, but she’s going to be just as big of a part in your life as she is in mine, if we want this to work.” He offers, and you nod.

“She was.. Really touchy.” You say. “I was a bit overwhelmed.” You admit to him, and he laughs.

“It’s a good thing though?” He says. “You’re just too charming to resist. Seems like I’ll have to look out for potential competition.” The bunny hybrid laughs. “I might be able to handle my daughter falling for you, but that’s where I draw the line.” He playfully threatens, and you laugh along, giving him a kiss to say goodbye.

But as you walk back to your car, Jungkook calls out to you again, a hand waving you closer as he opens the door to where his daughter is sitting. “What’s wrong?” You ask, stepping closer-

“You need to say goodbye to me too!” Minji says, with the most adorable pout towards you, little arms crossed, before she reaches for you.

And of course, you take that chance to hug her.

You’d be a fool not to.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

His apartment looks pretty nice, now that you’re seeing it all in daylight- and without the burdon of believing that you’re ruining a family.

According to Jungkook, Minji is currently staying with Jimin again- to give him a day off and offer him some time to spend with you, able to put his whole focus on you. However, you notice that he’s awfully.. Uneasy almost. As if there’s something on his mind still.

“Are you worried about Minji?” You ask, as he sits down on the couch next to you, phone placed on the coffee table. His face shows that he’s caught off guard- and so you elaborate. “You just seem a little distracted.” You smile, encouraging him to talk about whatever is troubling him- and he sighs, before he breaks eye contact with you.

“It’s Minji’s mother.” He admits, and at that you become a bit less relaxed as well. “She’s not-..” He sighs, turning towards you to hold your hands. “I don’t think she’s interested in me particularly, but even if she was, trust me-” He presses, “-my feelings for her have long died. Or rather yet, given to someone else who will take way better care of them.” He tells you.

“Bold claim.” You try and ease the air, with only minimal sucess however. “But, if it’s not you- what does she want then?” You ask.

“She wants to.. See Minji.” He explains. “I’m not sure why- but I’ve got no right to tell her no, you know?” He tells you, and you nod. After all, she’s still her mother, and has every right to see her daughter.

Though it does make you uneasy. What if she was to show Jungkook how she’s overcome whatever might’ve made her so upset with her own child years ago? What if he realizes that he can indeed have this happy little family he was hoping for when he got with her from the start? He might not feel it now, but surely, a connection between parents must run deep.

“I mean.. Minji deserves to know her mother.” You agree, trying hard not to let the way Jungkook’s ears droop and face falls at the second you slip your hands out of his get to you. You feel terribly selfish in this moment- you're not his daughter’s mother, nor will you ever be. Of course you had fallen into the trap of hope for just a second, but at the end of it all, Jungkook will most likely be better off with a prey hybrid, a bunny just like him who can make the little girl feel more comfortable.

What were you even thinking? The second she’d go to school, she’d be the talk of the school with her weird, scary predator-hybrid mother.

“Hey- I promise you this won’t change at all how I feel about you.” He tries to reassure you, and you can feel your heart crack a little at the softness of his tone. “We don’t even know how it’ll go. And Minji already likes you a lot.” He says.

“Jungkook..” You start, but he shakes his head, hands on your cheeks now to make you look at him. There’s a certain sense of determination in his eyes- but you can’t help but feel like this confidence in this whole situation and its future is terribly one-sided.

“No, listen to me.” He urges. “Give it time. Trust me. Let it all just.. Grow at it’s own pace. I already know that what I feel for you is genuine love, and I hope that you can develop feelings like that towards me too.” Jungkook tries to soothe your worries. “And Minji will love you too. Just be patient, okay?” He requests, and you nod, though he can see from the avoidance of eye contact and the way your ears are still turned downwards, that it’s not quite getting to you yet.

So all he can do in this moment is kiss you, and hope that at least for a little while, he can make you believe.

Even if he himself, has his own doubts, deep down.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Its quite funny how things can suddenly change.

One second it feels like you’re living in a dream- everything around you appearing to fall right into place, like the world has decided to grant you your happiness and biggest wishes as a reward for staying strong for such a long time. And then, all of a sudden, the floor is ripped from underneath you, leaving you with no ground to stand on, destined to drown in both uncertainty and confusion.

You shouldn’t feel this upset. Yet everytime your sketches of the little frog family stare back at you, it feels like they’re mocking you, and no longer representing wishful thinking of a younger version of you.

You feel out of place. But have you ever been a part of that space you now feel exiled out of in the first place? Most likely not, now that you really think about it. If anything, you’d been a visitor. A mere spectator, watching from the sidelines, never invited to step any closer than the boundaries set. And the worst thing about it all is, that Jungkook was wrong. You don’t have to develop any feelings for him-

You already have, knowing that it would be a waste.

When Jungkook calls, you’re sure you know the reason already. He probably wants to know what he did wrong, what he can do to fix it, and you won’t be able to give him an answer to that, because you honestly don’t know if this should be fixed at all. Maybe its for the best. Just imagine. His former partner might’ve developed a longing to her biological child now, and once she gets closer to her, she’ll get closer to him as well. Old feelings might be reignited, past memories filling up hearts until you’re long pushed out of his heart, no longer needed.

What were you thinking?

You decide to accept his call, realizing that you can’t avoid him forever- and the moment you do so, his voice can be heard over the speaker, another one in the background you recognize must be his daughter. Is her mother there already?

“I know what you’re doing, you know?” He says, and you feel oddly put on the spot. Yes, you’ve been ignoring him for days by now, and yes, that’s probably very petty behavior- but you can’t help it. You don’t want to stand in between them, and quite honestly, you also don’t want to force him to choose one or the other in the worst case scenario.

“...well, that’s good then.” You try and shrug it off- but he sighs.

“Not really, no.” He denies, before you can hear Minji say something- though its too quiet to really make out. “Yeah, dad’s talking to her right now.” He answers, and you dread whats possibly about to happen. “Sure, come here- there. Now you can talk.” He starts, before you can hear her more clearly.

“Are you angry at me?” She asks, and your heart breaks at the prospect of her thinking that you might be upset at her- because you’re not. You’re not even upset at Jungkook, or any of it. You’re upset with yourself, if anything.

“No, of course not.” You answer because of that, trying hard not to get emotional. “I’m just.. Busy.” You attempt to justify yourself, hoping that that might be enough for the little girl to let go of it. But she doesn’t.

“Are you angry at dad?” She asks now, and you sigh, before you deny that as well.

“No, I’m not angry at your dad either.” You tell her. “I’m just.. A little upset with myself. But you don’t have to worry about that.” You attempt to reassure her.

“Dad can make us pancakes!” She suddenly chirps up. “With ‘nanas. He makes them when I’m sad.” She explains her reasoning as to why he should cook you food of all things, and you cant help but feel the way her innocent actions and thoughts seem to get to you. “Can you do that?” She asks away from the phone, and you assume she’s most likely looking at her father.

“I can, but I don’t know if that would make her happy.” Jungkook answers. “Sometimes people just want to be alone, Minji.” he explains to her, and its quiet for a moment, before she speaks again.

“But in the book-” She starts, collecting her thoughts while she speaks. “-in the book, when the mama-frog was sad, the dad-frog and baby-frog made her a cake together. And then she was happy again.” She recites what she must’ve pieced together from looking at the most recent book’s pictures. It’s not quite accurate to the story written- but the message has clearly been conveyed, despite her inability to read.

It’s not about how much you can offer another person- its the act of even just trying to give what you can that counts the most, even if its just silent comfort, or a cake made with leftover ingredients you found.

“Minji-” Jungkook starts, but you cut him off, unsure where you take the bravery- or stupidity, depending on the viewpoint- from.

“Lets bake a cake then.” You say, before you can back out again. “All of us, together.” You propose, and from the sounds of it, the little girl is more than on board with the idea-

Though it’s Jungkook’s voice that catches you most, as he speaks to you in a tone thats both warm, and holds so much more than just gratitude for a moment. Probably because he realizes that this is more than just a simple step towards the two of them- it's your war of telling him that you want to try this, even if it fails.

So his voice is soft, as he speaks.

“Thank you.”

[aquaticmercy]

Full Throttle

Summary : Bucky thinks he hooked up with a really pretty mechanic. 

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x motorcycle racer!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : cursing. Sex is implied. Bucky on a motorcycle. Purely self-indulgent fic.

Word count : 3.9k

Note : reader is a MotoGP rider! I’m still reeling from the championship battle last week that I just needed to write this. Also I apologise for everyone who wasn’t tagged in waste a moment! I lost half my notes and I’ve been trying to recover it. Hopefully it’ll be resolved by tomorrow. Enjoy!

Bucky Barnes wasn’t just drawn to motorcycles because they were fast or dangerous— at least not entirely. 

He loved them because of the freedom they gave him, the sense of control when everything else in his life felt it had spiralled into oblivion. Riding demanded focus and precision—all the things he’d spent the last couple of years training. 

When he was on his bike, the world faded away. There was only the hum of the engine, the wind in his hair, and the open road.

And sure, being on the road was fun, but sometimes, all he wanted was a challenge.

That’s when he found the dirt track in the edge of town— a place where he could train for missions that called for high-speed chases— a place he could lose himself for a while. 

It was something fun to do once in a while, you know? Sam would call this a hobby.

The roar of engines and the earthy tang of kicked-up dirt felt like home. In a way, it was strangely meditative. It reminded him of what it felt like to be human— to push himself to the limit, to make mistakes and learn.

Every Tuesday, after training, he came to the track. 

And every Tuesday, so did you.

The first time he saw you, Bucky had to do a double take. You were standing by your bike, helmet tucked under one arm, dirt streaked across your padded leather jacket.

Bucky was no stranger to beautiful people, but there was something about you that struck him differently— maybe it was the confidence in the way you carried yourself or the fire in your eyes when you looked his way. Either way, he was floored.

At first, he figured you were just another skilled rider trying to forget the world. That it was just a hobby, like it was to him. But as the weeks went on, you realised this was your life. 

It must be.

The way you rode was… incredible. Every turn was sharp, calculated. Precise. 

And despite your obvious talent, you never made a big deal about it. Just like you never made a big deal out of the fact that he was the fucking Winter Soldier. 

Of course, you knew who he was—he’d caught the occasional glint of recognition in your eyes. But you never brought it up, never asked for autographs or photos. Instead, you treated him like just another guy at the track.

That didn’t mean you didn’t flirt, though.

Every now and then, you’d throw him a cheeky grin. You’d playfully tell him things like, “Nice lap, soldier,” and Bucky would just blush (which you found adorable, of course).

He would always try to laugh it off, but the truth was, your teasing left his heart racing faster than his bike ever could.

—

Bucky had been working up the nerve for weeks, and today, he thought he would finally bite the bullet. 

Today he was going to ask you out. 

You were wiping the sweat from your brow when he leaned casually against his bike, trying to look more confident than he felt.

“You’re always here on a Tuesday,” he said, before mentally groaning at himself

What the fuck was that? He thought. Is Always here on a Tuesday really the best flirty opening line he had? It was not even an open-ended question. It was just an observation. Nice one, Barnes.

But instead of brushing him off, you paused, setting your gloves down with an amused spark lighting up in your eyes. “Could say the same for you, Barnes.” You tilted your head and gave a casual shrug, acting as if having a stunning super soldier gawking over you wasn’t flattering. “You stalking me?”

The corner of his lips curved upward, the nervous tension melting away ever so slightly. “Maybe I just like the view.”

That earned him a smirk. You let your eyes descend over him—his dark hair falling in perfect disarray, his shirt clinging to his chest under his jacket. “Sure,” you teased. 

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Maybe I’ve got a good reason to show up.”

“Oh?” you asked, stepping closer, tossing your helmet onto your bike seat with a little dramatic flair. “Don’t tell me the Winter Soldier needs more practice catching bad guys on a bike. Thought you had that down.”

“Yeah, well,” he drawled, letting his gaze linger on you. “Never hurts to train. Especially when there’s someone like you around to keep me humble.”

“Humble?” You quirked an eyebrow, folding your arms as you leaned a hip against the leather seat of the bike. “Looked pretty cocky last week, pulling that stunt to take down the bad guy.”

He blinked, genuinely surprised. “You saw that?”

It had been a theft— some guy thought he could steal experimental weapons from an old Stark warehouse and get away with it. Not his cleanest chase, but he did the job.

“Please, it was all over the news. Did you not see the four helicopters following the chase?” you said, a mischievous glint in your eye. “I gotta say, you’re not bad, Barnes.”

“Not bad?” he echoed, feigning offence.

You leaned in just a little, dropping your voice. “I’ve seen smoother turns. If you want pointers, I could teach you a thing or two.”

His lips parted, but no words came out for a moment as he processed how close you were. “You offering lessons now?”

You laughed before gesturing at his bike. 

This was his dirt bike, a recreational bike— not the one he used for the chase last week. Still, it could use a bit of… fine tuning. 

“Tell you what, soldier,” you said, “Fix that lag in your throttle response first. Then I’ll teach you a thing or two about taking corners.”

Bucky tilted his head, narrowing his eyes “There’s nothing wrong with my throttle response.”

“Oh, honey,” you purred, stepping just close enough for your shoulder to brush his. “I could hear it lagging from halfway across the track.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. 

“You saying I need a tune-up?”

“I’m saying,” you said, your voice like velvet, “that if you wanna keep up, you’re gonna need a better setup.”

He couldn’t help the grin tugging at his lips. He still didn’t have the guts to ask you out that day, but he walked away with hope, that maybe, this could grow into something more.

—

“So, you gonna tell me why you’ve been walking around with that goofy smile lately?” Sam asked, leaning back in his chair with a knowing look.

“What smile?” Bucky muttered, immediately defensive.

“The one you think nobody notices,” he shrugged. “Spill it, Buck. What’s her name?”

Bucky hesitated, running a hand through his hair. He hadn’t planned to tell anyone about his little crush. least of all Sam, but the look on his friend’s face said he wasn’t getting out of this conversation.

“Fine,” he said, exhaling. “There’s this girl.”

Sam grinned. 

“She goes to the dirt track I go to every Tuesday,” Bucky said, staring at the bottle in his hands like it held the secret to not sounding like a lovesick idiot as he told him all about you. 

—

From then on, Tuesdays became his favourite day of the week.

Bucky found himself counting down the hours until he could see you again, his mind replaying every smile, every laugh, every teasing touch.

You became bolder, not afraid of calling him handsome, of touching his arm even if it wasn’t necessary. 

And damn it if didn’t make his heart race.

One evening, after a particularly thrilling session on the track, Bucky decided he’d had enough of dancing around what he wanted. 

Leaning casually against his handlebars, he called out, “Race me.”

You looked up, one eyebrow raising in surprise. “What’s in it for me?” you asked, folding your arms and tilting your head in that way that always made his stomach flip.

“If you win,” he started, “you get bragging rights for a week.”

“A week, huh?” You repeated dramatically, “and if you win?”

Bucky’s lips curled into a slow grin, trying to appear confident even though his heart was pounding in his chest. “I get your number.”

Your giggle rang out, bright and sweet, and for a second, Bucky forgot how to breathe. “You got yourself a deal, soldier,” you said, shaking your head. 

—

The two of you lined up at the start of the track, engines growling. 

Bucky’s focus sharpened—he wasn’t just racing for pride; he was racing for the chance to finally take a step toward something he had wanted for months now. 

When the signal came, you both shot off like bullets, dirt kicking up in clouds behind your tires. Bucky pushed his bike to the limit, leaning into every corner, his muscles strained with effort, grappling the dirt bike for control. But no matter how fast he went, he couldn’t shake the feeling that you were holding back. 

You were supposed to be faster, more precise than this sloppy performance you were giving. He’d seen you before. What happened?

As you neared the final stretch, you slowed, just enough for him to surge ahead and cross the finish line first. 

He skidded to a stop, panting and exhilarated, but the smug grin on your face told him everything he needed to know.

When you walked over later and handed him a scrap of paper with your number scrawled on it, you leaned in close enough for him to catch the faint scent of sweat and motor oil. “You won it fair and square,” you said.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, his lips twitching with a grin he couldn’t suppress. “You let me win.”

“How dare you accuse me of such a thing,” you feigned innocence, but couldn’t help the grin widening on your face.

He tucked the paper into his pocket, shaking his head.

As you put on your helmet back on, you casually remarked, “Throttle’s still lagging, by the way.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Bucky groaned, pretending to be annoyed. Secretly, he was thrilled to keep the conversation going. “I think it’s the fuel filter, but I haven’t had time to swap it out.”

“I’ve got one at my place,” you told him, turning on your engine, “Why don’t you come by?”

His head snapped up, surprised at the offer. “Now?”

“Why not?” 

—

When arrived at your place, he had braced himself for something simple—a cosy apartment, maybe a small cluttered corner dedicated to your bike tools. 

What he hadn’t expected was this.

Standing in the doorway, he blinked at the modern yet homey design laid out before him. The floor-to-ceiling windows bathed the space in golden evening light, reflecting off polished floors and expensive-looking furniture. The view of the city stretched out like a postcard behind you as you stood, arms crossed, watching him with a hint of amusement.

“This… is your apartment?” he asked, taking a step inside. His greasy leather jacket suddenly felt so out of place. His gaze darted over to a marble countertop in the kitchen, a plush couch, and then the walls— lined with the kind of art he’s only seen in high society auctions.

You tilted your head, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Not what you expected, Barnes?”

He huffed a soft laugh. “Not really…”

“Ah,” you replied, moving toward a door off the main living area. “So just because I work with bikes, I can’t have nice things?”

“I didn’t say that,” he countered quickly, following you.

You threw a sly glance over your shoulder. “Didn’t have to.”

He tried to think of a witty response, but he was distracted by the thought of you—the way you moved, confident and unbothered, like you belonged in every room you entered.

You led him to a heavy door and pushed it open, revealing a contrast to the rest of the apartment— your workshop.

The workshop smelled like oil, grease, and faintly of rubber, the air swirling with the comforting scent of metal and machinery. The walls were lined with shelves holding neatly organised tools, spare parts, and bottles of lubricants. A stripped-down high-performance bike stood at the centre of the room, its engine exposed, wires and cables hanging loose. 

Now this room, he thought, was undoubtedly you.

“This is more like it,” he murmured, his lips curving into a faint smile.

“See?” You smirked, moving to grab the replacement part he needed. “I’m not as fancy as you think.”

After pulling his bike through the back, he leaned against the wall, watching as you crouch next to his bike and get to work. 

For a moment, he was quiet.

He watched in silence— the way your hands moved with precision, the way you were entirely in your element. 

“So,” you began, glancing up at him. “What’s the Winter Soldier doing on a dirt track every Tuesday, anyway? Don’t you have, I don’t know, a world to save?”

He chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “The world can wait.”

You laughed softly, returning your focus to the filter. 

“I get it, kind of,” you replied, loosening a bolt. “Wanting to get away from everything.”

From then on, the conversation came effortlessly. 

At first, he kept it light, sticking to anecdotes about the track or the occasional joke about his less-than-smooth bike handling in the beginning. But there was something about the way you listened—your easy, genuine curiosity—that made him feel safe, like he didn’t have to keep everything locked away anymore.

At one point, he couldn’t help but ask how someone who worked with bikes could afford a place like this. You only shrugged with a smile, giving the same answer you always did: “I got lucky.” He didn’t press, though he was curious—the ease in which you sidestepped the question intrigued him.

Before long, the conversation drifted again. He found himself sharing more than he ever thought he would. He told you about his missions, the chaos of his Winter Soldier days, the things he’d done and the memories he was still piecing together. 

And you listened—not with pity, but with an understanding that felt rare, even among the people he called friends.

“You’re good at this,” he finally said. 

“Bikes?”

“People,” he admitted, his eyes flicking to yours.

“Well, bikes are like people,” You tilted your head, studying him with a small, curious smile. “Both require care, attention, and understanding to perform at their best.”

When you finally finished, you stood, wiping your hands on a cloth. “All set,” you said, gesturing toward his bike. 

“Thank you.” he said, though he made no move to leave. Instead, he lingered, his eyes on you as you leaned back against the counter.

“So,” you said, breaking the thick silence, your voice dipping into something almost playful. “You gonna stick around, or do you have somewhere to be?”

“Nowhere important,” he admitted quietly.

He took a step closer, then another.

The space separating you seemed to dissolve, his eyes locked on yours, pulling you in like gravity.

“Careful,” you murmured, teasing. “I might think you’re stalling just to spend more time with me.”

His lips curved into a faint, almost shy smile. “And if I am?”

The words hit you like a shot of adrenaline, your heart beating out of your chest. There was no humour in his tone, no hint of the usual back-and-forth banter that had defined so many of your conversations. Just desire staring back at you.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely audible. “I wouldn’t mind.”

He was close now, so close you could feel the heat rolling off him, his metal hand brushing against the counter as he leaned in.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice rough, a low growl in his throat. He cupped your jawline, mustering all the courage she could possibly gather. 

You didn’t.

Instead, your lips parted in anticipation as he leaned in. Unable to bear it any longer, you tilted your head up, meeting him halfway.

The first press of his lips against yours was gentle, and the second was anything but. The restraint shattered immediately, giving way to something feral. His hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair as he pulled you closer, his lips moving with a hunger that’s been brewing since he first saw you on the track.

Your hands found his chest, sliding up to his shoulders, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. You tugged him closer, your chest pressing against his. He let out a low moan that sent a shiver down your spine.

When you finally broke apart for air, your foreheads rested together, your breaths mixing in the narrow space between you. His voice was husky, as if he was still recovering. “I should really take you out on a date first.”

You let out a shaky laugh, your hands still fisted in his shirt. “You can still do that.”

His lips brushed yours again. “Aren’t you trouble?”

“You love it,” you whispered, grinning wickedly as you pulled him back in.

The next kiss was hotter, hungrier—  it consumed you both. His hands slid to your waist, gripping you firmly as he backed you out of the workshop and into the apartment. 

Your movements were uncoordinated, messy, your lips never leaving his as you stumbled against walls, furniture, and whatever else got in the way.

By the time you reached the bedroom, nothing else mattered.

—

Bucky woke to the soft light peeking through your curtains.

The scent of coffee reached him first. When he stumbled out of your bedroom, he spotted you at the marble kitchen counter, leaning on your elbows with a steaming mug in hand. You were dressed in one of your oversized shirts— and looked far too innocent for all the filthy things you did to him last night.

“Mornin’ doll,” he greeted  as he sat across from you.

“Morning,” you chuckled at his adorable tousled hair. 

“So…” he started, his voice thick with sleep, “about that date…”

You smirked, setting your mug down and sauntered around the island kitchen. “Thought you’d never ask.”

“Sunday?” he offered, watching you with a lazy smile as you perched on the stool next to his.

You shook your head, “I work weekends.”

That caught him off guard, but he didn’t let it show. “Remind me what exactly it is you do?”

“Bikes,” you said simply, the corner of your mouth twitching like you were holding back sensitive information.

He chuckled, assuming you were talking about your mechanic work. “Fair.”

You hummed, but the mischievous glint in your eyes didn’t escape him.

He tilted his head, curiosity tugging at the edge of his thoughts, but he decided not to push. You’d tell him when you wanted to. Instead, he flashed a small grin. “I’ll text you to arrange something, then.”

“You better,” you teased, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “You won my number, Barnes. Don’t make me regret giving it to you. 

The challenge in your tone made his smirk widen, his hand slipping around your waist to pull you closer. “Oh, I won’t.”

—

That Sunday, Bucky was slouched on Sam’s couch, one leg kicked over the side of the coffee table, a book resting on his chest. Sam, on the other hand, was waging war with the TV remote, flipping through channels at record speeds.

“Just pick something already,” Bucky grumbled without looking up.

Sam rolled his eyes, ignoring him. 

“Oh, MotoGP’s on,” he said suddenly, tossing the remote aside.

Bucky didn’t even glance at the screen at first, the low growl of engines and the commentator’s frantic observation was little more than background noise. But something about the sheer speed on display tugged at his attention. He finally looked up— and when he did, he could not take his eyes off the screen.

The camera focused on a Ducati weaving through the pack with a relentlessness that looked… familiar. The rider’s movements were fluid, each turn carved with precision, every overtake risky but calculated.

“Holy shit,” Sam muttered, leaning forward. Sam wasn’t the biggest fan— but he did watch these races from time to time. It always intrigued him, the danger they willingly took to win a race. “Look at—did you see that overtake?”

Bucky didn’t respond, his eyes locked on the rider. There was something about them—the way they leaned into each corner, never hesitating, always pushing for the absolute edge of human limitation.

The commentator’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“And there it is! The factory Ducati taking the lead with that beautiful overtake from the inside line! Unbelievable control!”

The Ducati was now in front, pulling away from the others as the final lap approached. 

Bucky watched, as they flew through a sweeping right turn, knees and shoulders skimming the asphalt like it was second nature.

As the Ducati roared down toward the finish line, the chequered flag waved. 

First place.

The crowd erupted, but Bucky barely heard it. The rider slowed, their gloved fist pumping the air, before coming to a stop after the cooldown lap. 

The other riders were congratulating them, patting their helmet with friendly taps.

Soon, the camera zoomed in, capturing the moment they pulled off their helmet.

And Bucky’s stomach dropped.

It was you.

No helmet, no visor—just you, smiling that confident smile that he knew so well.

Oh. He was stupid. Bucky Barnes was so incredibly stupid.

Of course you were a motorcycle racer. The sleek apartment, the effortless style, the way you moved on the dirt track. The way you told him you worked on weekends— it all made perfect sense.

And yet, somehow, he'd convinced himself you were a mechanic. Of course he did.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, bolting upright.

Sam shot him a confused look. “What?”

“That’s her,” Bucky said, his voice low in disbelief.

“Who’s ‘her’?”

“The mechanic,” he said, gesturing at the TV, as you celebrated with your team of race engineers. “The girl I told you about. That’s her.”

Sam blinked, staring at the screen, then back at Bucky. “Wait—you’re telling me she fixed up your fuel filter?”

Bucky didn’t answer, still staring at the screen. You were heading toward the press now, handing your helmet to a crew member as reporters swarmed you.

The camera cut for a post-race interview. You looked exhilarated, but still composed as you answered questions about your strategy— about the win. 

Then the interviewer threw in a curveball:

“You’ve been on a hot streak lately. Is there anyone you want to dedicate this victory to?”

You hesitated just long enough for a sly grin to tug at your lips. Then, you looked directly into the camera.

“This win’s for a super soldier,” you said, your tone as playful as ever. You made a phone gesture with your fingers and winked. “Call me, Barnes.”

Bucky’s jaw dropped.

Sam burst out laughing, but in no less shock. “I cannot believe you hooked up with her! Bucky, You lucky son of a—“

But Bucky wasn’t listening anymore.

He couldn’t believe it. Of course he could keep up— you were literally leagues ahead of him.

And somehow, you were still into him. 

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Sam said, nudging him hard enough to make him wince. “You gonna call her or not?”

Bucky didn’t answer, already scrambling for his phone. His hands trembled a little as he unlocked it, a smile already tugging at his lips.

He wasn’t sure what he was gonna say when you picked up, but he knew one thing for certain: Tuesdays just got a whole lot more interesting.

-end.

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Halloween prompts year 2 day 14

Tim was the best thing to ever happen to Danny.

He didn't mean that just because how much of a sappy romantic he was to Tim, but because he literally saved him from his own mind.

Danny was never going to leave Amity Park so long as the portal was open.

The portal would always remain open between his parents practically treating it like thier third child and thier ability to simply make another if anything would have happened to that one. Not to mention the super creep named Vlad.

So Danny would have stayed in Amity forever, cleaning up after his parents and being miserable.

Or ya know. Until they managed to kill him.

But then Tim came into his life and fixed everything. He befriended Danny over nightime rooftop rendezvous and groaning at his dumb (read awesome) puns.

As they got closer Sam and Tucker seemed to get both anxious and angry. Were they jealous? What right did they have after the Gregor incident?! Its true that they'd both been to busy to hand out with Danny for the past few weeks, leaving Danny with only Tim to turn to for company.

Tim pointed out that they may feel threatened knowing someone else knows his secret and Danny couldn't help but agree.

Tim pointed out that Danny was going to be stuck here cleaning up after his parent the rest of his life if he didn't find a way to stop the portal. Danny had nearly broke down at that and admitted he didn't know what else to do, so Tim devised a plan with that big beautiful brain of his.

They created a machine that ran on ectoplasm and magic that could wipe information from both technology and the human brain. They could remove all traces of ghosts ever existing in this town and erase 20 years of knowledge and research from Vlad and the Fentons minds, but it would come at a cost as magic usually does.

They would have to forget Danny existed as well. Tim offered that they could run away together.

Danny decided that was okay. The only person he had left in this town who had cared about him was Jazz and she was better off without him there to get her hurt.

Tim also had a plan to strip Vlad of his powers as well as his knowledge, and Danny was looking forward to not having to deal with him anymore

It was the day after everything went down, Tim was driving the GAV while Danny flew in the Ops Centers Jet form. They had made sure to swipe everything they could from the labs as well as everything the thought they needed to travel to Tims home dimension.

Danny had promised to help Tim uncover the secrets of his past and who he really was and to do that they essentially planned to travel around the Earth being wandering criminals.

Between Tims intellect and Dannys powers they were undefeated and unnoticed. They stole whatever they wanted and did whatever they pleased, making sure no one had to get hurt unless there was no other options.

Of course they stole cash from bank vaults as well as whatever else was in there. They couldn't stop Phantom from entering since anti-meta tech didn't affect him and couldnt track Phantom due to him being whatever he was plus the collar Tim had helped Danny design that covered up his ecto-signature.

They lived like this for over a year, breaking in to abandoned places, having waterfights in large city waterfountains (and running when they heard police sirens), tagging some of the places they'd hit when they wanted to leave a message, long romantic walks at night, lots of laughter, going on dates to restaurants (they never dine & dash. Some places make the wait staff pay which is bull and they might want to return to that establishment at some point), that one time they stole a $900 wedding cake from a homophobic bakery owner, lots of Fake out-Make outs to avoid getting sent to jail, ect.

They were having the time of thier lives up until they stopped in a little 24 hour diner in Bludhaven. They were doing what they usually do, flirting and laughing until the waiter takes thier order, when a guy approached thier table. Tim and Danny exchanged worried looks before the guy held up his hands in mock surrender, "I'm not gonna hurt you, I promise, I'm Dick Grayson." The man held out his hand to Tim, who hesitated before shaking it, "Tim," he answered honestly.

Danny nudged him with his foot under the table.

The man smiled wide, "Like Tim Drake?"

Tim and Danny looked confused, "Like who?" Danny asked and Dicks smile faltered

[wesstars]

ducked out

tara carpenter x fem!reader (no pronouns)

summary: sam doesn't like what she's hearing. wc: 401 tags: suggestive language a/n: for the wonderful @evilwednesday.

masterlist

“Don’t you think it’s kind of small?”

Sam stopped in her tracks right in front of Tara’s door, feeling the shock of pure terror shoot through her spine. That was Tara’s voice, and while Sam didn’t want to jump to conclusions, things weren’t looking good for her sister right about now.

“No, this is an average size.” Your voice came through the door, snappy. In all honesty, you were the only one of Tara’s girlfriends that Sam had actually liked—she was desperately clinging to this thought as her mind went to the worst.

“It’s a weird design, though…”

“I like this design, Tara.”

“How much does it fit?”

Sam couldn’t make out your hushed words from behind the door, but dread began to ball in her stomach, heavy and sickening, as she couldn’t bring herself to just move. She desperately wanted to, of course, but it was like being frozen from fear.

“Wow, that’s a lot… oh—”

Closing her eyes in pain, Sam felt indignation began to take over. Of course, you and Tara were adults. It—it—was normal, perfectly so, but being faced with its reality… that was something Sam couldn’t handle.

“Just put it in!”

“No, it’s not going in.” Your voice floated alongside Tara’s. What the fuck?

“Try flipping it around.”

“I did, it’s not working!”

Truly, the world was ending for Sam. An apocalypse, natural disaster, global famine, couldn’t have topped this.

“Flip it back, just put it in—” Tara said insistently.

“Okay—”

“FUCK!” Yours and Tara’s voices sounded in unison as the door slammed against the wall. Sam stood in the entrance, panting with bright red cheeks.

“Sam! You almost broke the door down!” Tara was rightfully indignant, you thought. What the hell was Sam doing anyway, barging in and being impossibly loud?

You turned back, giving it one last shove. “Tara, I got it!” Sam dropped to the floor, face in her hands, as Tara faced you with a grin.

“God, you’re the best,” Tara said as she leaned in and gave you a kiss. “I was worried I’d have to go and get one myself.”

You reached out and rubbed Tara’s arm. “You can always trust me, babe.” A USB stood proudly in Tara’s PC, complete with a pattern of uniquely dressed ducks, of Robson...

A flash drive had ended Sam Carpenter’s world, and neither you nor her sister had a care in the world.

--

a/n cont’d: pranked… haha… happy fish of april 🦆