Edge of Time⌛1

Warnings: this series will contain dark elements such as noncon and rape, violence, blood, sickness, death, ecological disasters, and other warnings to be added as it progresses.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. It features (nomad)Steve Rogers x reader. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: The end has come and you find yourself waiting it out. However, your own fate is not as clear as it seems. [Apocalypse AU]

Note: Unexpectedly posting on the weekend and unexpectedly turning a one shot into a series. And I dunno. 

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You were alone before it all fell apart. You thought that would make it easier. Maybe it does. Maybe that's why you're still alive. Barely.

The droughts came first, when the world was still overcrowded. The earth dried up and the sun beamed mercilessly down at those desperate for a single drop of rain. People fell where they stood and were left to rot in the heat, no one strong enough to move them or bury them.

That's when the auditors began. They used scarcity to their whims. They hoarded supplies of water and took in only those they deemed valuable. Often, that value was passing.

The collective emerged as a counter to the auditors, those who wanted to help all not just the few. It devolved into violence, as things do when humanity is brought to the brink of desperation.

Then the rains came, the floods, and just as many drowned in the depths. High ground was not as easily hoarded and the want for water was sated and the opposite became the mantra of man. The former loyalties split and death continued to ravage those left behind.

You watched it all from the peripheral, waiting your turn, waiting for death. You wandered by in the shadows, easily forgotten, and waited. But it never came, even with the snow and that frigid, bitter, deadly cold.

The rains receded and those rivers left behind turned to ice as snow heaped higher than any head. It rarely stopped and you can never shake the lingering chill deep in your core. Warmth is the most fickle of commodities. It is not a bottle of water or a sixteenth story floor, it is intangible and seemingly unreachable.

But your turn has come. You feel it. You're sick, you're alone as you have been, even before, and there's not much left to save you. The city, the world, has been picked bare by humans as much as the elements.

Still, there is the flicker of mortal will in you. That urge to live on. 

You mourn your neglect. At first, it was a shiver, that was usual, the a trickle from your nose and stuffiness behind your eyes. The fever came with a dwindling hunger and you know it’s time to do something.

You descend from your retreat in the old apartment tower, half eaten away by the once immeasurable tides. You go down the back stairwell, slowly, carefully. You still hear others now and then, you're not the only one around, but the others travel in groups and that makes them dangerous. It's dark, you can hide.

You're out of breath at the bottom and lean heavily on the wall as your chest aches. You quake with the unshakeable chill and steady yourself. You push away from the brick and pull your scarf up over your face.

The pharmacy isn't far, two blocks. The streets are barren but for the skeletons of civilization; cars, trees, people… You keep close to the walls and duck behind the post boxes somehow untouched by the chaos. 

Pharmacy is dark but you don't dare bring out your flashlight. With its broken window, you would light up the whole place. You brush away the broken glass with your glove and hop over the ledge.

You listen intently. A pulsing moment before you dare to tread further. Behind the counter, bottles scatter from previous searches and the orderless lashing of overflowing waters. You cannot say how much remains.

Most of the bottles or empty are coated with dissolved pills, turned to powder and paste. You don't need tylenol, it's unlikely to do much now. Whatever you do find, is unlikely to work but it's your only hope. Hope for what? What did you have to live for?

You tiptoe clumsily past the counter, the backroom is open already. It's not a good sign. You see the mess on the floor, baskets and bottles tossed all over. You get to your knees between the shelves and grasp at the containers. 

You pull your scarf loose and drape it over your head. You bring a handful up, flashlight in the other hand, and blind yourself in the encased glow… empty. You move on your knees and continue your tedious search. You're allergic to penicillin but it seems that is all gone anyhow.

A bottle rattles in promise and you bring it under your makeshift tent. Azithromycin. You were no doctor but you recall taking it for some bout as a teenager. You tuck it into the chest pocket of your coat and zip up quickly. You continue your search but find little else. You manage to scout out a few boxes of cold tables still sealed in their plastic jackets and go out the back.

You suppress a cough as the cold hits you like a wall. You struggle to breath and your hands shake. Better to take something now, the sooner it takes effect the better. You fumble and force down two of the large tablets on your raw throat.

You feel dizzy as you pass behind the buildings and edge down alleys, ears perked for any disturbance. You heard a man screaming two nights past, there was a reason for that and it was rarely anything but other people.

You get back to your building. You begin the treacherous climb up the escape as your body weakens with each step. You stop halfway and sit to catch your breath. You need to lay down.

You grab the railing and drag yourself up, stopping just outside the fire escape where you came out. You hear voices. Shit. They've found your hideout no doubt. Not the first time but definitely the worst. 

You listen as you peer back down the stairs. You have a kit on the eight floor. An old trick you learned in a book about New France, the Algonquin and Iroquois used to bury supplies for the winter in case they were stranded by snows. Hopefully they haven't discovered that yet.

"Doesn't look like a place for five," a deep voice carries as you take your first step down, "pretty small… not much. You sure this is all yours?"

"What's it to ya, buddy? We found it first so fuck off before we toss you out the window."

A chuckle, deep and amused, is the only response.

"What's so funny? Five of us, one of you. And I still haven't clocked a gun on you so it seems like you shouldn't be laughing." A snarl rolls back.

"I don't need a gun," the other man says calmly.

Then, suddenly, swiftly, a scuffle sounds and your feet clatter away. Whatever it is you want none of it. Whoever wins, you lose.

You stop as you count the eight and climb through the window, the door is rusted shut and immoveable. You hear more noise, above, below. Gunshots and hollers. Fuck.

You go to apartment 806 and rip up the cushions of the dingy couch. You waver on your feet as you lift the canvas bag and try to shake away the stars in your eyes. Your teeth chatter even as your skins on fire. You can't go back down the escape, someone likely heard you.

You stumble and catch yourself on the door frame. There's a place on Walter Avenue, you've had it in mind for a while. You nod and take a breath. You can make it.

As you enter the hall, you hear an unsettling crunch from above, the crush and collapse of several floors. Plaster and slivers of wood dust over you, the door frame keeping you from the weight of the flights above. 

A man lands, broken and dead atop the pile of shrapnel. The whistle of another descent comes from above and you retreat as another figure appears, boots crashing down around his victim. You fall onto your ass and land on your bag with a gasp.

Your vision skews for a moment and you struggle to lift the weight as you get a knee below you. 

"Please," you shield yourself with an arm as you get a foot flat but only stand and slip back down in a moment, shadow lurking closer, "I…"

You cough through your scratchy throat and clutch your head. You gape up at the man, a dark scarf at his neck beneath jis thick beard and overgrown locks, blue eyes catching the moonlight peeking in through the windows. He's huge, terrifying, you've never seen anyone like him, though he seems vaguely familiar.

"Hmm," he catches you before you can hit your ass again, "you don't know them, do you?"

"Who are you?" You ask, senselessly.

He considers you as your lashes blur around your sight. He doesn't answer as he pulls a glove off with his teeth and touches your forehead. He sighs as you shiver against his hot touch. 

"Shit," he swears and lets you down, laying you against your pack, "you got any meds? You take anything?"

He reaches under his fleece-lined jacket and pulls out a canteen, "here, water. Fever's gonna dehydrate you fast."

"Two," you hit the chest of your coat weakly and the pills rattle, "just two."

He trickles water through your lips and you drink greedily. Your head is thrumming so bad and your limbs felt filled with sand. You cough again and spit up your mouthful. 

"Why?" You croak as you wave away the canteen.

"What?" He caps the container and hooks it back on the leather strap around his middle.

"Just kill me," you groan, "like them."

"You're alone?" He ignores your plea.

You nod and close your eyes. "And sick. So…"

"Right," he grabs your coat and pulls you up suddenly.

He holds you up with one hand and unhooks the bag from your arm. He hooks it over his shoulders, against the pack already there, and slips his other arm under your knees. He lifts you easily and walks over the musty carpet towards the metal escape.

"Door doesn't open," you eke out, "you should leave me. Please."

"You'll die," he says as he approaches the door, "sorry about this."

He kicks the door and it flies from its hinges and hits the railing outside. The motion jolts you and has you coughing again.

"Why?" Your head lolls as the pale winter stars twinkle down.

"Why not? You need help," he says lithely as he heads down the steps, "we help those in need. We don't help those who take."

"We?" You blink, each time your eyelids get heavier.

"You'll see," he says as he turns onto the next flight of metal steps, "save your energy, doll. I got you."

"No, I don't wanna…" you cover your mouth and shudder against him in another fit, "go."

He says something but you don't hear him as you grasp the front of his jacket. Your head is spinning and the world won't stop unless you keep your eyes closed. The air in your lungs licks like flame. 

Doesn't matter, it's your turn. You've waited long enough.

⌛

You wake in motion. Layers cocoon you but you're still freezing. Metal rattles and you hear the rumble of an engine. There aren't many vehicles still operational and you haven't seen one since before the floods. You murmur through your haze as mutters rise around you.

“How long?” a voice you know asks as you fell a brush against the blankets thrown around you.

You blink at the metal roof of the truck, some sort of military machine. Your eyes focus as the man kneels beside you and you feel his calloused hand on your forehead. He gets an answer but you can’t make it out.

“Bruce’ll know what to do,” he says over his shoulder, his hands working to free his canteen again.

“You should’ve left her,” one of his companions says, a smooth female voice.

“She’s not one of them,” he insists as he touches the open mouth of the canteen to your lips. You drink and the lukewarm water soothes your ragged throat. “They were robbing her… she must’ve gone out for those meds.”

“They’re expired. Well past. More like, she was trying to put herself out of her misery,” the woman replies and you hear a thump on metal, “Buck, don’t take the main way. We’re not fucking around again. Those bandits aren’t worth my energy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” a man grumbles from further away as the one before you asks if you want any more water. You shake your head as you listen to the mumbling, “...no fucking around… don’t gotta tell me.”

“You should try to sleep,” the man in the scarf says, “we got a few hours.”

You nod again. You can’t even try to talk as your throat feels like broken glass. He adjusts your head atop a folded rag and fixes the blankets, nestling them under your chin.

“Goddamn, Rogers, you just can’t help yourself. How long has it been and you’re still on your hero shit,” the woman sneers.

“Sleep,” he pats the layers over your shoulder and stands, hunching beneath the low ceiling of the truck, “what’s the harm, huh? She’s one person. She needs help.”

“We’re not in the business of help, not anymore,” the woman replies.

“Nat,” the man, Rogers sighs, “you don’t gotta worry about her, alright?”

“That’s the thing,” she retorts, “you say that but I always end up worrying.”

Your eyes roll back and your head lolls as their argument continues. You can’t help but agree with the woman, Nat. With the way you feel, you’re better off dead. The thought of your inevitable end had almost been a relief. You slip back into the nether, the agony dulling with your descent.

⌛

The next time you awake, you’re still. You hear beeping, the hum of electricity, and you think it’s some twisted dream. You inhale, a little easier than before, but when you move your arm, there’s a tug. You open your eyes, propped up against the bed, angled to keep you bent. Your wrists are cuffed to the rails, a tube running from the back of your hand to a bag of clear liquid.

The walls are clear and look out onto a vast vaulted chamber, what could be a laboratory, or something more sinister. You feel like a mouse in a cage as you’re kept in the box to look in on. You feel warm for the first time in months but sleepy still. 

The cuffs ring against the metal rails and you test their resistance. You’re weak, it’s pathetic. You moan and press your dry tongue to the roof of your mouth. The machine chirps and you sense movement on the other side of the transparent walls. A man approaches, dark hair and stubble, and lets himself in as the door beeps and slides open.

“You’re awake,” he says as he approaches the single table and lifts the folder atop it.

You want to ask where you are but you cough instead.

“My name is Bruce Banner,” he nears you as he speaks dully as he reads, “and you are?”

You squint at him. You know that name. A name from before. You laugh and it devolves to another cough. It can’t be. You choke past your arid throat, several tries before you rasp out your name. He takes a pen out of his pocket and scribbles it down.

“Well,” he addresses you by name, “you had a nasty case of pneumonia, coupled with a viral infection. You also took some expired pills that didn’t do much for that. You’re lucky Steve found you.”

“Steve…” you echo and grasp at fragmented memories, “... Rogers?” your mind works to piece together the more distant thoughts, those times before the world fractured.

“The very one,” Bruce confirms, “you’re on the other end of it now. Your lungs are clearing out. I suggest you spit out anything that comes up.” He taps the metal dish by your leg with his pen, “You should stay in bed for a bit and not stress.”

He puts the pen away and takes out a key. He frees your right hand but not the other.

“Why…” you begin and swallow the dryness in your throat, “why?” You lift your hand so the other cuff clangs on the rail.

“You know the world we live in, it’s no different up there than down here,” he says flatly. “Water,” he points to the cup on the table you can just reach, “we’ll hold off on solid food for the time being.”

“Down here?” you prompt.

“You came pretty far,” he closes the folder and puts it back beside the tall cup, “a whole border away. Can’t say everyone’s happy about having a visitor, as rare as they are.”

“Oh?” you frown, “I… I…” your throat is itchy and torn, “...asked him… to leave… me.”

“Have some water,” he says, “and try not to agitate yourself.” He pulls open the single drawer in the table and pulls out a book, “Atwood… kinda fitting.” He tosses it into your lap, “but it’s what you get.”

“I— thanks,” you sniff.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he shrugs and backs away, “I’ll be back to check on you in a couple hours. Don’t forget, spit.”

He turns on his heel and you watch him go, the door shutting behind him and the unseen lock whirring into space. You put your head back and exhale. You’re used to being alone, it’s the idea of the company that unsettles you.

Mitski, I want You x NBC Hannibal

Part 3 of the Mitski lyrics x Hannigram series, as requested I did I Want You, this time in color for my extra loyal certain five followers who like every post of mine even when they flop, y’all know who you are. ❤️

Lemme know what lyrics I should do next, they don’t have to be Mitski I simply like my queen.

"Hhhhheeeheheeheheh... Why de long face, pup? Didn'tcha wanna be a pirate? C'mere now, I can show ye how..."

-----

Enter the biggest threat known to the world in my Super Mario AU: Kaptain K. Rool!

Thanks to the World Convention Alliance, world peace has essentially been established. Rarely does the common person have to worry about much in way of danger, but there's still something that keeps them on the lookout. Lurkers in the dark that parents warn their children with through cautionary tales. Pirates.

Pirates, as their name entails, are a completely lawless faction. They commit just about every sort of crime known under the sun, though the most common is typically trafficking, murder, and theft. There's several well known crews out there: Captain Syrup and the Sweet Stuff, Captain Wart and the 8Bits, but none can garner the pure fear one pirate can.

Kaptain King Rool.

As insane as he is dangerous, K. Rool is on a self-appointed quest to conquer every kingdom in existence. There doesn't really seem to be much of an end goal other than chaos and total control; K. Rool is unpredictable and revels in the bloodshed.

He's so ruthless even other pirates steer clear of him, or at least try to, and he's the origin of many a scary legend throughout the years. True to his name though, he's often called "king" due to him having uniting several pirate crews into one cohesive army under his command.

It's largely due to him, and to Pirates in general, that lead the World Alliance to create a spec ops group known as the CASO (Convention Alliance Special Ops). More in-depth explanation for what that is will come when I do a lore post on Mario!

FUNFACTS:

-The brass plating over his stomach covers one nasty wound K. Rool obtained when he was hit in the belly by a cannon ball. Realistically it should have killed him, and for a brief few months the world legitimately did think him dead. Until he began reappearing again... different, somehow. Outside of the glaringly obvious brass plating and fresh scars, the way K. Rool conducts himself is... different. He slumps and drags himself wherever he goes, as if his weight is too much for his skeleton to carry, yet the moment he narrows in on his target he moves like the predator he is. His speech is slurred, heavy, as if he has trouble speaking, and his breaths are deep, wheezing. He often has the tendency to laugh at odd times without prompting, said laugh spindly and croaking like a rickety groaning ship. And his eye bulges; glazed and unfocused one minute, piercing and hungry the next. His other eye is missing.

For all intents and purposes, K. Rool is nothing more than a walking corpse, but that isn't possible because he isn't dead.... right?

-Kremlings, the gator-like race that K. Rool is apart of, actually can't speak at all. They're human-level intelligent, but their vocal chords can't form human words, and so they typically use sign language to communicate. The fact that K. Rool can speak is, regardless of how garbled it is, is unusual, strange, and should be impossible.

-The crowns you see adorning his belt and neck are the crowns of monarchs he's slain. He likes to keep them as trophies, having the penchant of trying them on or switching out crowns at odd times.

-K. Rool holds a personal vendetta against the Kongs for two distinct reasons: 1 being they were able to fend him and his minions off (surprisingly), forcing a retreat. 2 being the fact that the Kongs "stole" something from him.

-------------------------

Aaaaand there ya go! I tried to make K. Rool creepier than what he is canonically so I hope that pulls through! More to come soon! ^.^

CUTE AS A FUCKIN' BUTTON MASTERLIST

18+

Baker!Steve x Mob!Reader

Series Status: Ongoing

Series Summary: Steve is the owner of the cute new bakery in town, and he's purer than anyone you've ever known. You can feel him melting your ice heart, but you don't mind a single bit.

Content Warning: Mob!Reader x Baker!Steve, Mob!Sam x Mob!Bucky, fluff, mature themes, flirting, soft!steve, violence, mention of weapons, organized crime, eventual smut (dom!reader x sub!steve, mommy kink, specific warnings in each part).

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Alternate Universe where they get to be happy again

...ok yet another half asleep Arcane AU idea

Just AU where in episode Powder doesn’t leave she’s still breaking down in her room with the crystals all over the floor when some enforcers barge in and see tiny child crying, most definitely some of the stolen items they were looking for out in the open and looks like a lot of others left in a rush...

Just the enforcers being like ‘...holy shit...DID THEY LEAVE A CHILD HERE TO TAKE THE FALL FOR THEM??’

Powder there all alone and when the enforcers try talking getting her to talk to them but her freaking out scared but still so sad and when they ask about her family her just insisting ‘they’ll be back they promised’ and the like and that just solidifying to them that...yeah they’ve abandoned this kid here.

The enforcers taking Powder to the council, who all assume the same, and Powder starting to believe that yeah...she was abandoned if not Vander and Vi would have come for her right? why haven’t they come to get her?

(The reason being as Vander and everyone escaped as no explosion Silco got sure pissed and got some people to pretty much set fire or to destroy the last drop it looking like Powder is dead...Vi blaming herself cause she told Powder to stay her little sister stayed there waiting for her to get back and died because of it)

Also Markus bullshits and totally fabricates and lies to make this seem legit and so no one looks further into this at all, not on either side.

Powder is just breaking down and Mel takes a look at this little girl whose family have discarded her as she was a weakness, thrown her away to save themselves and just...can’t let this stand.

Mel taking Powder in her being an older sister to her, being super protective of her.

Powder still loving tech and of course being fascinated by Hextech, Viktor and Jayce happily letting her help out (and add her own paint jobs to their tech)

Mel: Have fun Powder dear

Mel *to Jayce and Viktor* If one hair on her head is out of place they will never find your bodies

Her being at the heart of hextech, helping out so much and when they think about giving hextech a seat at the council, well Viktor and Jayce point to her because she knows politics and knows how Hextech works (neither of them want to do it and Jayce is having enough issues trying to make sure his husband actually rests like the doctors been telling him…Jayce and Powder have had to drag Viktor out of the lab more than once)

The announcement  of a new council member makes news everywhere...even the undercity.

Vi and Vander getting the news and recognising Powder...

Vi trying to see her again to see if she’s there and alive and real...only Powder thinks her sister abandoned her...and now is only coming back to her when she’s on the council? when she and Vander realise she could help them get what they want!

Yeah it doesn’t end well...then Caitlyn and Vi meet up and try to figure out what happened...

Markus is sweating bullets.

Edit: spelling

I"m just Waiting for the Moment when Lilith finally Adopts Hunter.

Okay a last one... x) I think she already does! (In this AU haha) I'm curious to see them interact cannonically just to see them hate each other! xD

What do you think Lilith's present is? To me it's a blue gem like her :))

Server icon for @alittlesliceofcucumber ‘s Spooky Lads AU.

They're worsties also Spamton's in pain

Sometimes i don't have a clue of what to draw

Edge of Time⏳2

Warnings: this series will contain dark elements such as noncon and rape, violence, blood, sickness, death, ecological disasters, and other warnings to be added as it progresses.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. It features (nomad)Steve Rogers x reader. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: The end has come and you find yourself waiting it out. However, your own fate is not as clear as it seems. [Apocalypse AU]

Note: I am spoiling all yall but also myself. 

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

Warning graphics by @its-just-may

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya

Bruce returns as promised. He changes your IV bag and offers a cup of thin broth for you to drink. You accept it as you fold the corner of a page and let the book close in your lap. The world is more visceral now. You’ve taken in every inch of the unfamiliar place. You figure it must be underground, there are no windows. And far from home, without a doubt.

“Fever isn’t an issue anymore,” he says as he jots down your vitals and closes the folder again, “you’ll be back on your feet soon enough.”

“Thank you,” you say as you drink the hot soup.

“Again, it’s a little soon to be thanking me,” he replies as he turns away, “this isn’t for you. We don’t do favours for strangers. Those days are over.”

He goes to the door and pauses. You hear it too, the steady footsteps. He exits and the door whooshes shut with a loud click as another figure approaches. You can make out Steve’s dark beard and the curve of the muscles along his shoulders as Bruce stands in front of the door. 

They talk but you can’t hear them. Steve seems annoyed as his hand waves in frustration and Bruce shakes his head. You cradle the cup and feel the heat in your palms, basking in it even as the unheard argument makes you uneasy. It’s a wonderful sort of warmth; not intense like the droughts or that missing in those months of rain and snow.

Bruce turns back and presses his thumb to the lock. The door opens.

“Don’t stay long, she’s still fragile,” Bruce says, “don’t waste this favour.”

“Got it, Banner,” Steve surpasses him, his voice dark even as his eyes brighten in your direction.

“I mean it, Tony’s already breathing down my neck,” Bruce intones.

“Yeah, yeah, you let me handle Tony,” Steve shrugs and rolls over the stool to sit by the metal table.

Bruce sighs and leaves. You glance over as he walks away, nervous as Steve watches you intently.

You finish the soup and reach to put it aside with your free hand. Steve takes it and sets it down for you. He leans forward on his elbows and tilts his head.

“You brought me here,” you say carefully, “you saved me.”

“Despite your best efforts,” he raises a brow, “how do you feel?”

You consider his question and look down. You move the copy of Oryx and Crake to the other side of your leg and sit back.

“I can breathe,” you reply, “and… I’m not cold.”

He nods and sits up. He chews his lips as he looks at you, you find it hard to keep your eyes on him. You’re not used to having others around and you were never very good before at dealing with them.

“How long were you there?” he asks gently.

“Where?”

“You move around a lot?” he prompts.

“When I need to,” you answer, “I guess I was in that place for a while.”

“How long were you alone?” his brow wrinkles.

You drop your eyes again. You want to laugh at the question. An easier question would be when weren’t you alone?

“Never needed other people much,” you utter, “I… I tried to tell you that. To leave me there.”

“You would’ve died,” he counters.

“And? Everyone dies. This world just makes it easier.”

“You wouldn’t still be alive if there wasn’t some desire to be,” he insists, “you had those pills, you were trying to live.”

“And doing a shit job of it. I didn’t ask for your help,” you argue.

“But you got it,” he says bluntly, “you look better. Sound better. Keep on and Bruce won’t be such a grouch. He hates waste and… if you die, this is a big loss.”

You swallow. That’s what the auditors used to say. They created debt to gain resources. You shake your head and scowl at your lap.

“My responsibility, not yours,” he stands, “like you said, you didn’t ask for it. I did. I made a case for you and you’re alive.”

“Made a case? To who? What… you have a leader?”

“We are the leaders,” he says, “what’s left of us. You know who I was? Who my friends were?”

“Wasn’t that long ago. Maybe a few years.”

“Five. Five years since the drought began,” he affirms, “we kept track. We had the resources to do so. Feels even longer than that. We’re not the Avengers anymore, we can’t be. The people we used to protect aren’t innocent anymore. There’s some we can help, some we try to keep safe, but there are more villains than good people now.”

“So why bring me here? You don’t know who I am or what I am,” you say.

“Sure, I don’t, but I know you were alone. I know what those men would have done if they found you there and I kept you from that. From there, I made up my mind that you were one of the ones we protect,” he nears the bed and touches the rail, “I didn’t want them to cuff you, I asked them not to.”

“I don’t blame them,” you shrug.

“You were alone… through all of it?” he asks.

You nod and bite the inside of your cheek.

“That’s how I know. How I knew.” He hooks his thumbs in his belt, “thing about it is, we come across people all the time but they’re never alone. Can’t survive alone. You wouldn’t have either, you were there, at the end. I saved you.”

“Is that what you’re waiting for? A thank you?” you murmur.

“Not at all,” he gives a small smile, “I’m just trying to help you realise that there isn’t a place for loners in this world. There are fewer of us around but we still need each other. You needed me. You will need me. Bruce is doing his job, what I asked him to do. You know how people are, no difference here.”

You stare at him grimly.

“I’m trying to help. I’m the only one trying to do that,” he backs away slowly, “I’ve grown a little unfamiliar with former manners. What I mean is, I am your only friend here. I’m sure you’ve forgotten what that means too.”

You scoff and avert your eyes, “no such thing as friends anymore. Only those of use.”

“If that’s how you see it,” he concedes as he nears the door and it slides open, “Banner says you’re doin’ good. I’ll find some clothes for you.”

He doesn’t wait for a response. You have none for him, only a sinking pit in your stomach. There’s as much he didn’t say as he did say. It isn’t good. Nothing in this world is good.

You look down at the grey gown that hangs around your figure. Your old clothes are gone though you still wear their stench. Everything you had is gone. The stained jeans and patched sweater, your leather pouch belt and the canvas bag of rations, even the folding knife you kept in the boot and the iron bar you hook through your belt.

He said it himself, they aren’t heroes anymore. He didn’t save you at all.

⏳

You wake up to a figure beside your bed. You glance over, expecting Bruce, but find Steve with your chart in hand. His eyes slowly drift over to you and he puts it down. He says your name.

“I assume you already know who I am,” he says, “I think I forgot to mention it before.”

“Yeah,” you say quietly and reach for the water. The night before Bruce detached the IV but not the cuff at your other wrist. 

It's three days since your arrival and you were only permitted to get up to relieve yourself or stretch to keep your muscles active. Still, movement is achy and slow.

“Got you clothes,” he turns and takes the stack from atop the stool, “Bruce signed the release. Not that it means much but he likes his old habits.”

“Release?” you wonder.

“You’ll be sticking with me,” he explains as he puts the clothing on your leg, “probably best. My friends are not your friends. Not yet.”

You say nothing as he rounds the bed. His large hand stretches around the cuff and he squeezes. The hinge breaks and it falls away as he removes his grasp. His fingers tickle your arm as he steps back and turns to face the transparent walls.

“I’ll let you get dressed,” he says.

You sit up and a groan escapes you. Still cramped and sore, you push down the bed rail and hang your legs over the edge. You peek over at Steve, his back to you still, and you reach to untie the neck of the gown. The underwear are like small shorts, dark and too tight, the socks are loose so you roll them, and the shirt is too long and billowy around you. 

Steve shifts on his heels and you look over. You see your reflection in the wall and his eyes flicks away from it quickly. You shake it off and slip the jeans up your legs. You stand to pull them up and stumble. He’s quick and keeps you from crashing to your knees. He holds you up as you button the fly.

You part from him to grab the belt and buckle it tight. The last piece is a jacket, heavy and thick. None of it is yours. You wonder what happened to your stuff.

Your steps are uneven and Steve watches patiently. Embarrassed, you keep your eyes on the floor. You flinch as he takes your arm.

“You got some ways to go, let me help,” he insists, “it’s a big place.”

“Mmm,” you hum as he angles you towards the door, “so, what now? Where are you takin’ me?”

“Tony wouldn’t let me use a second room,” Steve says as he assists you down the steps to the lab floor, “so, space will be tight for a while. He’s got trust issues.”

“Oh?” you lean on him unintentionally.

“Yeah, the issue’s name is Bucky,” Steve mutters, “anyhow, that’s another worry for another day.”

“I can go,” you offer, “You don’t gotta give me anything. I got clothes, I’m getting better. I can–”

“No,” he says pointedly, “go where?”

“Somewhere… alone. Away from here,” you answer, “I don’t wanna get in the way.”

“If…” he began and stopped himself, “no. I’d be just as well leaving you back in that apartment. You’ll stay.”

You don’t argue further. His tone curtails any hope of that. He’s not telling you everything and that makes you wary. He won’t let you out so you’ll have to find your own way.

“Okay,” you say pliantly and feel your legs giving out, “one sec.”

You push away from him and lean on the wall, the hallway is long and blaring white. Every door looks the same. You peer up and down and put your head back as you catch your breath. He faces you and tries to grab your arm. You draw away and wave him off.

“Please,” you say, “I can do it.”

“You’re barely standing,” his brow twitches, “I’m just trying to help. Like I said, the place is huge–”

“But… Tony? Won’t let you use a spare room?” you ponder.

“He’s stubborn,” Steve clicks his tongue, “lot of that going around. Like I said, no one likes to waste resources. Another room means another block on the grid.”

“Hm, alright,” you shove away from the wall and catch your balance. You can make it, or you’ll try.

“You good?” he asks as you turn to limp on.

“Just point me wherever, let’s go,” you say.

He laughs softly to himself and tells you to take a left ahead. You do as he says and peer over at his slanted grin.

“Sorry, it’s just… kinda figuring out how you got so far,” he muses, “don’t even think stubborn is the right word for it.”

“Like you said, I’m not the only one out there. Do what you gotta…” you carry on and he points you down another hall.

“Yeah, but your way seems awfully lonely,” he comments.

“Maybe,” you accept, slightly jittery from the strength spent walking through the bright corridors.

“Here,” he stops you at a door and flips open the little plastic box mounted on the wall. He puts his hand to the large screen and the door opens, disappearing into the frame.

He urges you in first with a wordless gesture. You enter and look around the space. It’s jarring and has you disoriented. It looks like before. Your eyes moisten, just a little and you grab onto a side table to keep from stumbling as you take it in. Couch, loveseat, chairs, tables, carpet, television… furniture untouched by flame or water. There are doorways on either side of the large room.

“You should sit down,” he says as the door shuts softly, “before you fall down.”

You straighten and hobble to a chair and slump onto the cushion. You're breathless and your head’s spinning.

“When you feel up to it, the shower’s through there,” he points behind you, “you remember those, right?”

Your lips part. You can hardly believe it. You don’t know why it seems so fanciful, even after waking up as you did, with machines tied to you and a bed beneath you. You rub your forehead and face Steve.

“How much of it did you really see?” you ask quietly, “the… droughts, the floods… down here. You just hid from it all.”

“Seems like you were doing the same,” he says, “we did what we could but we didn’t have the solution for everything. It was us or them.”

“I didn’t have this… I saw it. I watched it all. That’s not the same as this.”

“And what does anyone do but survive anyway they can,” he sneers, “we help those who thrive. It doesn’t help to prolong the inevitable.”

“And me? Hardly thriving,” you remark.

“Potential is what we look for,” he says, “you have that. You’re alive, aren’t you?”

You’re quiet. You stand, wobbling slightly. You turn carefully and step around the chair.

“I hung a towel for you and there’s a basket there. Soap, lotion… your face is still pretty chapped from the wind,” he says, “and if you need anything else, I’m the one to ask.”

“The water’ll be just fine,” you begin your uneven pace across the room. You reach the doorway and lean on the frame as you look back at him, “thanks.”

His expression eases and he gives a subtle nod, “like I said, potential.”

You continue into the bathroom and shut the door behind you. The light flicks on automatically and you wince at the sight of your vivid reflection in the mirror. You look different than you remember. Older, maybe? You’re not sure, just different. Like a stranger. 

You look at the plastic white basket on the counter. Just as he said, there’s all the toiletries you need. Your hands shake as you unwrap the toothbrush and fish out the toothpaste. It’s a refreshing start.

With the minty flavour still on your tongue, you rinse off the brush and put it in the empty holder. You go to the shower and reach over, leaning on the tile, and crank on the faucet. The water rains down and steam quickly rises. You back up and sit on the toilet seat.

You have to catch your breath again. You undress and weakly get back to your feet. You let the water patter down and scald your skin. You press your palms to the wall and exhale. Your tears roll along your cheeks and mingle with the clean water.

Your disbelief overflows with all that which fuels it. The years of fear, of uncertainty, of displacement. The loss of control and powerless struggle against nature and man. You can’t quite understand why you’re crying but it feels just as good as the hot water as it washes away the layers of filth.

fic where all of tommys possible parents and older sibling figures exist in the same plane. like imagine a guy came up to tommy in the fic and went oh u gonna cry u gonna get ur monmy and like a truckload of dads and older brother figures pull up behind tommy imagine.

meanwhile tommy’s like few sisters and moms r just chillin. like pokimane is right next to mumza type deal.

they dont all live together obv. its just that whenever tommy meets someone he gets adopted and no one knows that tommy has been found familied by other ppl so when tommy tells everyone they’re having a family picnic they all show up and it’s like a family reunion but theyre all only related cause of one kid.

love that. found family extravaganza.

Valuable

 It’s day 2 of me posting every other day in December so enjoy this next story!

Warnings: Person being sold and fear

Summary: Techno is sent undercover to buy a human in order to save him.

Word Count: 1998

______________________________________________________________

 “It’s valuable and rare as can be. You won’t find another human this far out in space, I’ll tell you that much.” The Florian went on, lips turned up as he waved dramatically at the small cage. Techno let out a huff, taking a good look at the human inside.

 The poor guy was terrified, that was for sure. Curled up in the very back and shaking as he stared up at the two of them with wide blue eyes. He also looked really young, which was going to make Phil insufferable. The Elytrian always had a soft spot for fledglings, even if those fledglings weren’t technically fledglings.

 “Right. And how much is valuable?” Techno asked, letting his normal monotone voice do all the acting he needed. He didn’t know why he was the one picked for this. Everyone knew how much he hated interaction. Just because he knew a few words in English they thought it was a good idea that he picked up the human. Well if that’s all that was needed, he could have taught Wilbur the few words he knew. But no, it had to be Techno.

 Really, Techno knew why he was the one here and it wasn’t just because he knew the most English. Though that helped a lot, Techno was also the sturdiest in his crew. If something went south, he was more likely to be able to get out of it. And in things like this, it was very possible things could go south.

 Hopefully that didn’t happen though.

 “Well, for you I think I’ll say...mmm 5000 credits?” The Florian said and it was clear to Techno how much of his thinking was fake. Techno reminded himself to react, lifting his eyebrows as if to say, wow, that much? 

 In reality, Techno had as many scam credits as he needed to get the human out of there and go. Ones that would take a while for the Florian to figure out it was fake and by then, Techno and the rest of the SBI would be long gone.

 “5000 credits? And you expect me to make a profit off of that?” He had to keep up appearances, so he played the skeptical card. Although as he glanced back down at the frightened human, he was thankful that the human couldn’t understand what they were saying.

 Although...at the same time, Techno supposed it didn’t really matter. The human was probably smart enough to figure out what was happening anyway. He didn’t need the words to go along with it. Being sold wasn’t hard to pick up on.

 “Of course! Especially if you find those exotic pet collectors or human fanatics. You could easily make twice as much.” The Florian explained, though Techno didn’t really believe his words. Not that it mattered if Techno did or not since he had no desire to sell the human after this.

 “Really? Huh, well I guess you are giving me quite the deal then.” Techno hummed, already pulling up the credits transfer on his comm. 

 The Florian nodded excitedly. “Oh yes, yes, quite the deal.” Techno refrained from rolling his eyes and they completed the transfer of credits. The cage with the human was then handed to Techno, who held it awkwardly. “Pleasure doing business with you. If you ever want to purchase other exotic pets, then I’m your guy.”

 “I’ll be sure to check back in.” Techno lied before walking out of the little shop. Techno found himself in one of the many back alleys of Diac, a marketplace planet. There was no one around, thankfully, because if anyone saw the human in his hands well...it wouldn’t be good, that’s for sure.

 But he couldn’t exactly hide an entire cage away from prying eyes, so this was where his very limited knowledge of English came in. To try and convince the human he was safe as he took him out of the cage to hide him away in a pocket.

 Simple. He thought sarcastically.

 He placed the cage on top of a nearby box and kneeled down to be a bit more eye level with the human. The human was still as far back in the cage as he could go, arms curled around himself and looking at Techno like he was just waiting for him to reach in and grab him. Which, well, was what Techno was going to do but not without warning. And at the very least, he wanted to try and get the human on board with it.

 He let out a sigh before speaking a single, English word. “Safe.” The word still felt weird on his vocal cords and it definitely came out more growly than he intended but the word’s meaning still seemed to come across because the human seemed to freeze at it, eyes going wide in what Techno could only assume was shock.

 “Safe.” He repeated again, pointing towards the human as well for good measure. He watched in fascination as the human slowly opened himself to him and leaned a bit forward.

 “S-Safe?” The human repeated the word back and now it was Techno’s turn for his eyes to widen. Not only had he not expected the human to speak so soon, this was also the first time he had ever heard English straight from a human’s mouth. It was certainly interesting and Techno could see Wilbur being all over this.

 Techno nodded his head forward in what he knew was a human motion for yes, before repeating the word once again as confirmation. “Safe.” 

 The human bit his lip and then opened his mouth and said something that Techno didn’t understand. When the human looked at him expectantly, Techno could only assume the human was testing to see if Techno could understand anything else. Techno shook his head. “Sorry kid, I only know a few words in English.” The unfamiliar words, to the human, made him deflate a bit.

 Techno felt bad for the little human but now was not the time to regret not trying harder to learn more words in English. He had to get the human out of there, unseen, and soon. This alleyway was empty and out of the way but that didn’t mean no one could show up at any moment. So Techno reached forward and undid the lock, opening the door to the cage.

 The reaction was instantaneous. The human backed away once again, closing himself off and looking at Techno with fear. His eyes darted back and forth between Techno’s face and his hands and Techno let out a sigh. He figured this would happen. “Safe.” He said again and slowly began to reach in.

 The human pushed himself against the bars of the cage but of course, Techno reached him easily. He wrapped his hand around the human’s middle, gently applying enough pressure to secure him in his grip. The human froze for only a split second before he was pushing against his fingers and trying to bite his hand. Thankfully, Techno’s tough skin was hard for even human teeth to pierce, so he didn’t even feel it.

 Techno took him out of the cage and lifted his hand so he could see the human better. He was shaking, still pushing at his fingers but not as much as before. As if he had given up on actually being able to move them. To make it better, Techno opened his hand and brought up his other one, allowing the human to sit in the middle of his two open palms.

 “Safe.” Techno said again and then decided to bring out the only other words he knew. “No hurt. Protect.” 

 The sound of other English words made the human freeze again and the two of them met eyes. The human looked skeptical but also like he very much wanted to believe Techno’s words. “No...hurt?” The human asked hesitantly and Techno nodded.

 “Protect. Safe. We just want to get you out of here, kid. You won’t be a pet. I promise.” Even though the human couldn’t understand more than half of what he said, it seemed to have the intended effect and the human calmed down a bit more. Though he still looked scared out of his mind, Techno understood.

 He thought for a moment before an idea popped into his head. One that might get the human to become a bit more comfortable with him. “Techno.” He said, switching the human to one hand so he could point to himself. The human looked confused and wary, so he repeated himself. “Techno.” He patted at his chest, trying to drive home the meaning.

 Suddenly, the human’s eyes widened and a spark of recognition appeared in his eyes. “Techno?” He mimicked, almost perfectly, and pointed towards Techno. Techno nodded and the human smiled. He then hesitated for a moment before pointing at himself. “Tommy.”

 It seemed the human really did understand what Techno had meant because he’s pretty sure the human just told him his own name as well. “Tommy?” He said, sounding out the weird English letters and doing his best to repeat as the human had. The human nodded though, so it seemed like Techno had gotten it at least close enough.

 He noticed tears edging at Tommy’s eyes and subconsciously reached up with his thumb to wipe the tears away. Tommy flinched back but paused when he realized what Techno had been doing. “Safe.” Techno said, once again, this time as soft and gentle as he could make his voice go. 

 He smiled when Tommy relaxed in his hold. Though the human was still scared, Techno seemed to have gained at least a bit of his trust.

 It was getting time for them to go though, so Techno opened his coat, revealing his chest pocket. He looked towards Tommy and back down at his pocket, trying to convey what was going to happen next.

 Tommy’s eyes widened and he exclaimed something in English, looking up at Techno before staring at the pocket. He shook his head. Techno sighed. He figured this was going to happen, even with the progress made so far.

 “It’s fine. It’s safe. I promise. But I need to put you in there so I can protect you.” He replaced the two words with the English ones, hoping the meaning would come across as intended.

 Tommy looked apprehensive at Techno and his pocket before groaning. He said something, more words that Techno didn’t know, but nodded his head. That Techno knew the meaning of.

 “Good, alright. In you go then.” He brought Tommy forward, using his free hand to open up his pocket. He then slid Tommy into it, hearing the human yelp on the way down to the bottom. The human squirmed when inside and for a moment, Techno thought he was struggling, fear taking hold of Tommy once again. But then the squirming died down and Techno sighed in relief. He had probably just been trying to get comfortable.

 He stood up, stretching his limbs before walking out of the alleyway. He decided to just leave the cage where it was. He didn’t need it and no one was going to question why it was with the trash anyway.

 He took out his comm once he was clear of people, placing a gentle hand on the pocket and over the human. He felt the human push back but not from fear this time. He smiled a little and was still smiling by the time the comm was picked up.

 “Hello? Techno?” Phil’s voice cut through.

 “Job’s done. Bringing the human to the ship now.” Techno said, already seeing where they parked the SBI in the distance. He heard Phil coo in approval.

 “Good job mate. We’ll see you in a few.” And then the comm went silent. Techno put it away and gently patted his pocket again.

 “Don’t worry Tommy, we’ll take care of you. I promise.”

A Place To Call Home: Santa’s Letters

Summary: It’s the holiday season in the Ackles household and Jensen has a a request for all of his kids...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader

Square: Creating New Traditions

Word Count: 2,800ish

Warnings: language, angst, fluff

A/N: Enjoy! This part takes place after the Dads Timestamp. Also written for @spnchristmasbingo​​

_______

“Whatcha reading?” asked your dad while you sat at the kitchen counter sipping on a glass of chocolate milk.

“Allie wrote a letter to Santa for Christmas,” you said, handing him the letter. He took it and cocked his head, JJ smirking as she pulled her mac and cheese out of the microwave. “Considering she can’t write yet I think that’s pretty good.”

“Go with stuffed animals. Toddlers love stuffed animals,” he said.

“I thought she was trying to write puppy,” said JJ, stirring the food with a fork and taking a seat next to you.

“I so do not need a dog. We can visit Toby here whenever we want,” you said, tucking the letter back in your pocket. “We got all her presents already. And Colin. TJ’s all I need to get.”

“You know what I want,” he said, rounding the corner from the bathroom. He smirked and you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah but I can’t just get you what you want. There has to be some element of surprise Hanover,” you said.

“She has a point,” said your dad. “Twins!”

“What?” they called from over on the couch, watching a christmas movie in the background.

“Come here. Little family meeting while mom’s out with the babies,” he said.

“Are we going on vacation?” asked Arrow, dashing over and looking up at him.

“Calm yourself,” he said, Zepp padding over and sitting up on the counter, stealing a cookie from the tray. “Alright. I’m entrusting all of you with very secret information.”

“Is this about the vacation to Europe you’re taking mom on next summer?” said Arrow, glancing at your cup of chocolate milk. You slid it over while your dad blinked a few times.

“She knows?” he asked. 

“No,” she said with a shrug. “You just leave your computer open sometimes.”

“Wait you go looking at my computer?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Afraid they’re gonna find po…” trailed off TJ when he glared at him. “Note to self. Never use your computer.”

“I didn’t look. It was just open. You’re lucky I shut it so mom didn’t see,” she said.

“Alright,” he said, breathing deeply. “Good. I wanted to make sure you guys knew ahead of time. Y/N and TJ will be in charge the couple weeks we’re gone. JJ, I’m hoping you’ll offer to help out a little.”

“I know how to make food,” she said, holding up her dish.

“Clearly,” he said, shaking his head. “So no spoiling, no nothing. I know mom is planning something for me so if it is happening in the month of June, let me know now.”

“You’re good,” you all said, your dad pouting.

“How’d you all know that?”

“Mom told us her plans like two months ago,” you said, stomach rumbling. “Let’s order pizza.”

“It’s a school night,” he said, Arrow already grabbing the takeout book from the drawer.

“Not for us,” said TJ, pulling out his phone.

“Fine but I want garlic knots,” he said, TJ tapping away on the app. “Well something you all don’t know, because apparently you’re all little ninjas listening all the time, is this.”

He went over to the table and grabbed what looked like Christmas cards and slid them across the counter, one to each of you.

“I know that we’re all aware the big man in red is in fact not real-”

“Parents are scam artists,” sighed Arrow. “I really thought Santa was real and then the rug just gets ripped out from under you.”

“Sad but hey we got rid of your fear of werewolves in one fell swoop that day didn’t we,” said your dad. You chuckled, turning over the blank envelope and pulling out a sheet of paper. 

“Yeah but like how’d you pull it off? Cause trust me, we used to search this place top to bottom for toys,” said JJ.

“Storage unit. You’ll thank me someday,” he said, going to the counter and grabbing the cup with pens, handing them out. “Now I know you all know Santa isn’t real and I already know half of what you want for Christmas anyways but for my own amusement, I want you all to write a letter to Santa asking what you want.”

“Seriously,” deadpanned Zeppelin.

“Oh! Another contender for my most passive aggressive child of the day. Careful Arrow, your title is on the line,” he said, leaning against the counter. “So entertain your dear old dad and do this for me, huh?”

“When’s food get here?” you asked TJ.

“About forty five minutes,” he hummed, already writing his letter. You stared at him, TJ lifting his head. “What? I never wrote to Santa before.”

“You never wrote to Santa?” asked JJ, her hand over her mouth.

“Well I always knew he was fake,” said TJ. “My dad never really hid that.”

“Your dad’s a dick,” said Arrow. He gave her a side hug and laughed.

“There’s a reason we’ve always gotten along,” he chuckled. He picked up his pen again and started to write, Arrow waiting a beat before she was working away. You took your paper and pen and wandered out to the back porch, taking a seat at the table. 

“Oh don’t tell me you’re gonna be the hold out. I was expecting one of the teens to give me a problem over you,” said your dad, sitting down next to you. You leaned back in the chair, taking out Allie’s letter again. You looked at it and handed it to him.

“I asked her if she could tell me what she wanted cause well, that’s just scribbles. You know what she said? She was asking Santa if he could feed everybody cause we drove past a homeless man earlier in the week. She’s not even three and she is a better person than I ever will be. Lately I am so scared of fucking it up and turning her into an asshole. The world doesn’t need more assholes like Rick. It needs little hers and I don’t know how to not dump my shit on her and fuck her up.”

“Y/N. Fucking it up would have been hearing that baby cry and walking away because you told yourselves it wasn’t anything. It would have been so easy to walk away and never know she was in there. She would have died that night if you and TJ hadn’t stopped. She’s alive not because you made her but because you saved her. I know that Allie touched a piece of you that I can’t ever get to, TJ can’t, mom can’t. It’s a special place for your children. You give that child so much love...Allie is kind because her mother and father are kind. Part of it, yeah, that’s her. And part of it is in how you raise her. But you know all the things not to do. You and TJ both know what leaves scars. You’re gonna mess up but as long as you don’t actively hurt her which I know will never happen, she will turn out amazing. I promise.”

“How do you know that?”

“No such thing as a perfect person. Aim for good,” he said. You took the letter back and tucked it away, taking a deep inhale, releasing slowly. “When were you originally planning on kids?”

“Hm?”

“I know you didn’t want them this early. You guys ever talk about that?”

“At least thirty,” you said softly. “Maybe a year or two after to start. He wanted more time for us, for me to...be happy without responsibility.”

“Is that why you and mom nearly got in a fight when she said she’d take the babies for the night, spend some time with them?”

“They should be here,” you said quietly. 

“It’s past bedtime for them and you need to get better at letting them go without you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means TJ’s mom can take the kids. We can. Your aunts, uncles, the whole damn family. Your friends. It means I need you to stop feeling guilty because you don’t think you’re a perfect mother and that you don’t spend enough time with your kids. They are both always attached to your hip.”

“That’s not true. I’m away from them too much.”

“Y/N. I lived away from your siblings, from you, for nine months out of the year. When I came home, I took trips alone with just mom. Besides the sarcasm being off the charts, how’d I do with ‘em? How’d I do with you?”

“Why must you always have good points,” you groaned. “It’s so fucking annoying.”

“Special skillset,” he said, leaning back in his chair. His shirt rode up and you saw his scar on his side peak through, your dad glancing down. “I know the letter thing is silly but Allie’s not the only person that wouldn’t still be here without you.”

“Mom said you’re thinking about laser surgery,” you said.

“I am a tad self-conscious if I’m being honest,” he said. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“I’m getting it. For the ones on my back,” you said. He turned his head and you looked up. “Gonna hurt like a bitch apparently.”

“Why are you doing it then?”

“Because all summer long every time we went swimming, there you were staring at my back and I could just see the wheels turning in your head. I don’t like how they make you feel. I don’t like the way they look. I just want to. If you want to get rid of the one on your stomach then I say go for it. You already have a tattoo for me on your arm. I don’t need a scar too.”

He tugged up his shirt, showing off more of the scar.

“How the hell did you fit your hand inside of me,” he said absently, rubbing his fingers over it.

“I wasn’t really thinking about it. I just did it. I know it hurt you,” you said, reaching over and pulling his hand away. “What if I ask Santa for something he can’t give me?”

“Santa wants you to ask for something big this year,” he said.

“Dad.”

“I shouldn’t be here. This should be a shitty Christmas for all of you. But it’s not so this year, you get extra.”

“Alright. Anything I want?”

“Anything at all. You name it.”

“I want you to never thank me for saving your life again because you don’t have to say thanks for that.” He pursed his lips and nodded. 

“I still want a letter to Santa with what you want.”

“I will if you agree to stop thanking me.” 

“Have I ever mentioned what a stubborn child you are?”

“Several times,” you said. You crossed your arms and he groaned. “I guess Santa’s gonna miss out on a letter…”

“Fine. I won’t bring it up again but I want something real good in this letter,” he said. He got up and ruffled your hair. “Come inside if you get chilly out here.”

“I won’t be long.”

It was around three in the morning when you woke up to use the bathroom, stomach rumbling along the way. You padded into the kitchen to make a quick snack, pausing when you saw the envelope propped up next to the little christmas basket on the island. You looked around, nothing else in the house seeming disturbed. 

After a beat you grabbed the envelope and flipped it over, relaxing when you saw the handwriting. It was addressed to you and started to open it, waiting to take it out while you put a piece of pizza in the microwave to reheat. After it beeped off, you took a seat at the counter, taking a few bites before removing the letter and unfolding it.

Y/N! I got your letter today. You’ve been very good this year. Truth be told you’ve been good every year since the last time we talked. I’m sorry to hear that the way you found out I’m not real was when you lost your parents. Well, a version of me isn’t real. Cause see I’m kinda special. Santa’s always around, even if you’re in on the secret. 

I saw in your letter you didn’t ask for much. I guess we should blame your parents for making you so unspoiled. You’re so hard to find a gift for you know? Their words, not mine. Anyways, I talked things over with your old man and he’s willing to let you take Baby out for a night with TJ, after a quick few driving lessons in her.

Your dad remembers when you guys used to go driving when you first came here too. Those are some good memories for him. You were ready for your road test the first time he got in the car with you. But he kinda selfishly would tell you to keep getting more practice so you guys could spend some time together. He secretly wishes he could have been the one to teach you but he’ll settle for some tips behind Baby’s wheel.

But here’s the thing. This year was a lot. Santa knows you went to therapy with your dad and physical therapy too. You guys even started going on your walks for him to build up strength again. He appreciates all of that more than you know. Then there was the whole mess with TJ’s dad and then his dad trying to take money and finding out he’s not even his father in the first place. I know you took the brunt of that for him. Then there was the medication mess around Halloween and everybody’s emotions were all over the place and long story short, Santa knows you had a hell of a year kiddo.

It’s funny. You spent most of this year taking care of your family when you’re the one that thinks they’re always taking care of you. You who also were hurt in an accident. Santa knows shit got real that night and you took that on yourself.

So Santa swung a little deal for you. That trip that got cut short earlier this year? How about you and your dad go on up and visit the canyon park after new years. No work, just you guys having the trip you were supposed to. Oh and Santa wants you to go check in the garage in the backseat of your car. He left a little early present for you.

Love Santa

“You’re a sap Santa,” you said, taking a bite. “But I love ya you big dork.”

“Hello,” yawned TJ, scratching his bare belly as he walked into the kitchen. “Any pizza left?”

“Yeah,” you said, TJ choosing to eat a piece straight from the box cold. “Santa paid us a visit.”

“Jensen texted me before bed and said he might be dropping by. Told me not to shoot him if I caught him,” he said as you slid the letter over. “Oh so you got a letter from Santa. That’s new.”

“I’m gonna go get my present,” you said, walking over to the garage and ducking inside, finding a bag in the backseat. 

“What’d you get?” he asked, tearing off a chunk of crust. You set the bag on the counter, chuckling when you pulled out a bottle of wine with a key and card on it. “What is it?”

“Storage containers come in handy for Santa’s with children that like to snoop,” you read off the card. “My parents got us five years at a storage container to hide christmas presents for the kids.”

“That’s a genius idea,” said TJ. “Allie‘a gonna be able to figure out how to get up on a chair and find presents in the closet next year.”

“I say we take all the advice Santa is willing to give,” you said. TJ took the key and popped it in the dish by the garage, picking up the bottle of wine on his way back in. “What’d they give us?”

“A bottle of that Cabernet they get us for our anniversary. You and Jensen have a talk or something?”

“It’s my father. What do you think?” you said. You yawned and stretched out, TJ patting your butt when you got up.

“Back to bed young lady.”

“Only cause I’m tired,” you said, heading down the hall. “Don’t take long.”

“I’ll be right there,” he said. You curled up in bed, safely setting the letter on your nightstand until you could tuck it away with the others you’d gotten over the years. You rolled into the middle, stealing part of TJ’s blanket and letting out a soft sigh.

“Thomas,” you said when he came back in, lazily getting under covers and burrowing into you. “My parents don’t know about our present for them right?”

“Nope. The suckers won’t know what him ‘em.”

“Good,” you said, TJ pulling your arms over his waist. You kissed his forehead and hummed, TJ already starting to drift off. “Night sweetheart.”

“Night Y/N.”

_______

ok so superhero au where tommy is just,,,,, some guy 

Like he goes to work for sbi (who are top heroes and stuff you know the drill) because he really wants to meet his heros and is kinda tight on money yady yada the unusual plot. But then the vigilante theseus makes his big debut solving crime, fixing problems and stuff, and tommy starts to come to work with visible wounds and bruise. The SBI are immediately sus of him, mainly because all of his excuses are lame- falling down the stairs, tripping over ext- and then tommy starts to passionately talk about greek mythology specifically theseus and techno just fuckign KNOWS that Tommy’s theseus. But no one knows how to tell him that they know without spooking him. and as time goes by and tommy still doesn’t come clean the sbi start to put him in situations where they hope his power will reveal itself to them. Like they lock him in a room but instead of using theseus’s power - matter manipulation- to get out, tommy just,,,,,, picks the lock. They fake a kidnapping and tommy just annoys the kidnappers so much they let him go. And at this point the three are pulling their hair out trying to get tommy to tell him he’s theseus but then they get the bright idea of just asking him themselves and it goes something like this: 

Wilbur: so don’t freak out or anything but we know you’re known vigilant theseus

Tommy: what

Phil: No ones else knows beside from us.

Techno: we were going to wait for you to tell us yourself but wilbur got bored waiting and- 

T: wait no hold up, im not theseus.

all: what. 

T: yeah no that’s my roommate purpled. 

Te: but you really like the story of theseus?

T: Yeah and that’s why i suggested the name in the first place and he couldn’t come up with anything better so,,,,,,,

W: but what about all your strange injuries? weren’t those from being a vigilant?

T: no i never lied to you about where i got them from? I really did fall down the stair 12 times in 1 month. 

P: But you’re in the system with theseus’s power?

T: yeah no so purpled is on the run from some organisation that wants to turn him into a weapon but he needed a job so he pretended to be me when he put himself into the system and no ones noticed yet. 

Te: so what is your power?

T: i can talk to cows. 

get f*cked — lee hyunjae (TEASER)

pairing: lee hyunjae x fem!reader

tags: enemies to lovers, spicy bro... references to sex and choking, Sexual Tension™, no actual smut!! in the teaser OR in the au, just very suggestive and a lot of mentions of nsfw topics, mention of death

teaser word count: 478

a/n: GUYS so this is why i've been posting less the past three days it's bc i've been working on this !!!! this scene is what inspired me to write the au in the first place, so i figured it would be as good of a teaser as anything :) pls enjoy!!! and let me know if you want to be on the taglist for when i post the full au!!!! (which is coming soon bc im 95% finished)

playlist: kiss with a fist florence + the machine • choke i dont know how but they found me • boys like you tanerélle • two more minutes jaymes young • hurts like hell sølv • give up at 2 sofi de la torre • need you like that ezi • tempt my trouble bishop briggs • crave tove lo • loveyou dxvn. • bedroom eyes sølv • afraid of the dark ezi (full playlist here)

"you're such an idiot," you scoff, leaning your foot against the cinderblock wall behind you.

"your mom wasn't saying that last night," he quips with a self-satisfied smirk.

"my mom's dead." you deadpan. you're lying, of course. she's alive and probably watching tv in your parents' living room right about now.

"yeah, right. i overheard you talking about your mom like two weeks ago."

"worth a try," you respond airily, crossing your arms.

"y'know, funny enough, that's exactly what park eunyoung said to me last week when she was trying to convince me to sleep with her." he grins, and lightly kicks a loose rock with his foot as he takes a small step forward.

before you can think twice, the words are bubbling up from your throat. "hyunjae," you scoff. "you probably don't even know how to kiss a girl properly, much less fuck her."

oh, shit.

his expression changes and you regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth.

he takes a calculated step forward, and then another until he's well invading your personal bubble. you try to take a step back, but there's only wall. you're trapped between a rock and a hard place, quite literally.

you study his face closely, watching for any familiar expression to latch onto, but you find nothing. his usual playful grin is gone; the mischievous gleam that typically dances around his pupils is nowhere to be found.

regret prickles in your chest. is he actually angry? you can't tell; his expression is so uncharacteristically stony, you don't have a clue what's going on behind those eyes.

"i wouldn't say that to me." he finally speaks.

"why not?" you mean for it to come out a sharp retort, but it's far more shaky than intended.

his gaze flicks down to your neck.

in your peripheral vision, you see his hand rise from his side, and then you feel it press against the sensitive skin of your neck. his fingers wrap around it, far too gently to have any real effect, but just enough to send a message: he could if he wanted.

you swallow against his palm, eyes locked on his face.

his head tilts slightly, and his eyes finally meet yours again, and it becomes just a little harder to breathe. "you wanna fuck around and find out?"

the words themselves might've come off as terrifying had the context been different, or if it had been anyone who'd said them. but it was him, and that was a different story altogether.

your stomach sears with heat, despite your desperate attempts to will the feeling away.

a glint of something familiar shines in his gaze, and his mouth quirks up at the corner. "you like that, huh?"

you don't like the flush that creeps across your cheeks; not at all. because he's right, and you absolutely hate that.

Such a lanky boi~

Wilbur in the style of the spirits on the train in spirited away.

I want to give the birthday boy a disposable camera! Snap pictures of all his favourite things on his big day!

Waaaah!!! What A good idea!! :D It works well with the scrapbook gift Thank you!!!!

Sanji, at a minor inconvenience: I deserve this. This is all because I forgot to feed my pet turtle Sheldon in Kindergarten. He went to heaven and now my life is bad!

Sanji, shouting: YOU HAPPY NOW SHELDON?! WE’RE EVEN NOW!

Zoro, from a distance: SANJI?!

Sanji: SHELDON?!

”Fuck, Billy!”

Steve threw his head back with a whine, brown hair plastered all over his pillow as Billy took him all the way into his mouth while twisting his fingers inside him.

He wrapped his legs around Billy’s head as he kept letting out desperate little moans and fuck, he was so close. Just a little bit more and he’d get his release that he had been building up for the last ten minutes.

And as Billy bobbed his head and added a third finger, Steve swore he almost screamed when he felt himself tingle all over.

But when he was just about to cum, the door to his room swun open.

”Steve, you better have a good reason for ditching me at work yesterday. I swear to g-” Robin cut herself off as she saw Steve, with Billy, on his bed and clearly about to have some sort of panic attack by the look of it.

”Robin!”

She watched as Steve threw his blanket more on top of the two clearly naked bodies and hid under Billy a little as he watched up at her with embarrassment and panic.

Even Billy seemed to be caught off guard as he wiped his mouth onto his arm quickly and pulled the blanket more on top of his waist while moving a bit closer to Steve.

”You gotta be kidding me.” Robin muttered, but soon bursted into laughter as she took in the state of them.

Boths hair messy and dark hickeys all over their necks.

And obviously she couldn’t miss the clear scratch marks all over Billy’s back which made her laugh even harder.

Steve gave her a glare and threw a pillow at her when she wouldn’t stop laughing.

”Get out!” He whined in embarrassment and Robin gave the other two a wink between her giggles before turning around and walking away from the room.

The last thing she heard was Billy whispering about how the hell she got inside and Steve answering with his sad puppy eyes look and voice that Robin knows all too well.

”Well, she’s my best friend…”