#they’re my dad’s and he hasn’t used them in years but I’m going to finally put them to use

[wh0re43van]

You are great writer! Stumbled on that on set Evan fic and it was soooo good 🔥 Lol, I actually do work on set and you really captured the atmosphere tbh. Keep it up!

Not sure if you’re open to requests rn, but I would love your take on Evan and his partner trying to make a baby for the first time. He just seems so sweet and I’d love to think of this man in a happy marriage, daydreaming about little feet running around.

Thank you so much! I truly appreciate your kind words <33

So, I decided to make this two parts. This first part is just fluff, the readers get to see Evan in kind of a paternal role in this part, baby making will be in the next, I hope you enjoy!

Also ngl, I had this done for a couple of days now, I just couldn’t think of a title :/ so sorry about that. I’m awful with titles smh

Baby fever (Evan Peters X Reader) Pt. 1

Summary: While babysitting for Evans brother, you realize that you’re finally ready to have a baby, much to your husbands delight.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: none in this part ;)

Pt2 Pt3

“Thank you again, I know it’s a bit short notice, “ Evans brother, Andrew, says as he closes the door behind him to step out onto the dim front porch with Evan, his daughter Ellie, and myself.

“Dude, It’s no problem really!” Even smiles, laying a gentle hand on his brother’s shoulder. “It’s always a joy having Ellie around,” he grunts as he picks up her small ‘Peppa Pig’ suitcase and her car seat.

“Yeah, Dad! They love me!” Ellie giggles as she grabs onto my arm. I smile at her snaggle toothed grin. The yellow light of the porch reflecting off her dark hair, making her curly pig tails look golden.

“They’re right Andrew,” I reiterate as we all begin to walk to Evans car, Ellie’s small hand in mine while the crickets chirp their evening song. “Now you go inside and help the Mrs. pack for your..uh.. trip. We’ve got it from here, “ I give Andrew a sympathetic smile, taking Ellie’s sippy cup out of his hand.

Andrews wife’s mother has been rushed to the hospital just a few hours ago and the couple is driving through the night to be there with her. They haven’t told Ellie the reason for the trip, all she knows is that she’s spending the weekend with Auntie y/n and Uncle Evan.

“Be sure to call me if you need anything or if Ellie just wants to talk, bye sweetie,” Andrew picks up his daughter, giving her kiss on the head.

“I love you daddy,” she giggles hugging him back quickly before trying to escape his embrace. “Let me down! I wanna go to Uncle Evans!” She Kicks her small light up sneakers, flashes of purple and red glow on the concrete as her feet hit the ground. Andrew just laughs. Thanking us again before making his way inside.

“Give me the suitcase babe, I’ll throw it in the back,” I take the pink bag out of Evans arms, walking to the trunk to toss it in.

I make my way around the vehicle to see Evan bent over struggling to get the carseat hooked in as Ellie hangs on his leg, both of them erupting in giggles.

“Ellie I can’t get this carseat in with you climbing all over me like that,” he laughs as he pulls at the locked seatbelt, trying to free it so he can stretch it through the back of the child’s seat. Ellie continues as if she hasn’t heard him, and Evan lets her. I smile at the pure joy beaming from my husband. He loves children dearly; his niece is no exception of course. He’s brought up starting a family of our own many times in the few years we’ve been married, I’ve just never felt quite ready with how much time away his job requires, but now things are slowing down and the idea of having a baby grows on me more every day.

“Now Ellie, how will we ever make it to our house if you don’t let Uncle Evan buckle your seat in?” I ask, giving her a stern look. She considers my statement, then reluctantly trudges over to me, leaning on my leg.

“Oh okay,” she frowns, looking up at me with her big hazel eyes.

“Done! … I think.” Evan exclaims, backing away from the vehicle. I stifle a laugh when I see the crooked car seat that he is ever so proud of. I simply walk up and adjust it before plopping Ellie in the seat and strap her in. Finally, we can go home.

•

•

After arriving home, we bring Ellie’s bag in to the room that she’ll be sleeping in, I take her down to the kitchen as Evan goes to change into some sleepwear. It’s a bit late, 7:00 pm and the sun’s already set for the night, but we’ve been informed that Ellie hasn’t had supper yet.

“Okay so you want a grilled cheese, we can do that, but you need to have a veggie as well,” I pick up Ellie and set her on the dining chair. She’s expressed that she wants a grilled cheese and only a grilled cheese. She even briefly tried to convince me that she’s allergic to all vegetables. “We have broccoli,” I pull a head of broccoli out of the fridge and set it on the table.

“Yuck!” The small girl rolls her tired eyes.

“Carrots,” I grab a bunch of fresh carrots, placing them in front of her.

“No way!” She shoves them away from her. I huff.

“Or we have green beans,” I reach into the pantry and set a jar of green beans next to the other veggies.

“Aunt y/n, you’re crazy. No thank you to all of them. Just a grilled cheese please,” she says in disgust, reaching for the bag of bread and block of cheese, sliding the ingredients closer to me.

“Ellie-“ I sigh, admittedly losing some patience.

“Oh wow look at all these super veggies that Aunt y/n has laid out for you. You’re lucky, she’s giving you the special ones,” Evan says coming around the corner, now in his pajamas, as he takes a seat next to his niece.

“What do you mean?” She inquires, raising a small eyebrow.

“Oh she didn’t tell you?” He gasps, shifting his gaze to wink at me. I stifle a laugh.

“These carrots,” he pulls the bunch to him. “They give you night vision.” He explains. Ellie considers his claim.

“What about this one,” she hands him the head of broccoli.

“Oh this? It just gives you super speed, no big deal I guess if you don’t want to be the next quicksilver,” he says nonchalantly, tossing the head of broccoli in between his hands. Ellie gasps, her eyes light up.

“I want this one!” She grabs the green veggie and hands it to me. “Please.” She adds, remembering her manners. I laugh.

“Don’t you want to hear about the green beans?” Evens asks, standing up from his seat.

“No thank you. Super speed please!” She crosses her hands on the table, awaiting her superpowers. Evan takes the broccoli from my grasp, turning to grab a cutting board.

“I got it honey, go upstairs and get ready for bed,” he kisses my forehead. I smile and thank him before making my way to our bedroom.

•

•

I change into some comfy pajamas and do my nightly routine of skincare and brushing my teeth before padding down the steps. Before I peak my head around the corner I hear Evan shout,

“One more time… GO!” followed by the quick stomping of tiny feet. I clear the corner to see the furniture pushed out of the way and Ellie hurtling full speed towards me. She runs right into my stomach, nearly knocking the wind out of me.

“Jesus,” I wheeze. Ellie giggles boisterously with a toothless smile.

“I’m sorry Auntie y/n,” she manages to choke out as she falls to the ground in her fit of laughter. I look to my husband with wide eyes, trying to process what happened.

“Hey don’t look at me babe, it was the supper broccoli. Hopefully it will wear off soon,” he says genuinely, putting his hands up in defense. I can’t help but laugh.

I take a moment to admire the sight of my husband standing in his sweatpants and old stained shirt draped loosely on his toned body. His beautiful brown curls that are just a bit overdue for a trim sticking out every which way, yet resting perfectly on his soft features, and his scruff filling in more and more every day that he’s doesn’t shave. The gorgeous man in front of me, smiling from ear to ear with the purest of joy in his chocolate eyes makes my heart sing. He’s truly in his element right now. The elation coming from Ellie and Evan is contagious, I find myself in a fit of laughter as well as Ellie crawls up my legs and onto my back.

“Your turn to race Auntie y/n!” She cheers.

“No, no not tonight honey,” I disappoint her with my response.

“We have to clean up and get you ready for bed,” I walk over to Evan, passing the girl on my back into his grasp. “Which will be Uncle Evans job since he’s the one that wound you up,” I raise my eye brows at him. Ellie happily rests in his arms bridal style, her gummy grin never leaving her face.

“Hey, don’t give me that look,” he begins to walk towards the steps. “You’re the one that gave Ellie speed enhancing veggies,” he reminds me, almost fooling me as well, with how serious his tone and expression are.

I roll my eyes as I turn to put our living room back together.

‘You’d think Evan would know not have a 6 year old run laps around the house half an hour before bedtime.’ I sigh as I push our couch back into place. As irritated as I want to be, I can’t help but feel giddy. Seeing how happy Evan is with Ellie makes my heart swell with joy.  

‘Maybe I will discuss having a baby with him.’ I think to myself as I replace our rug and coffee table back into the center of the room.

‘But having a child isn’t always fun. It’s much different having your own child than babysitting.’ I make note to remind him as I shove our recliner back to its designated spot.

‘And pregnancy can be complicated’ I’ll have to tell him. ‘I hope mine won’t be, but it is something you have to prepare for’ I’ll explain. He’s not the one getting pregnant so I know this may not be something he’ll consider.

I make my way to the kitchen to begin stacking the dishwasher with what little dishes Evan left in the sink before he went to destroying our living room.

‘And what will we do if you get a big job and have to fly halfway across the country while I’m in labor or freshly postpartum?’ I’ll be sure to ask. I begin to make myself nervous considering all my concerns.

‘And what if-‘

“She’s laying down,” Evans comforting voice breaks me from my thoughts. I can hear the smile as he speaks. I don’t even need to look up. “Once I finally convinced her that there is no goblin living in our guest room closet, she crawled right in bed,” his voice gets closer as he moves to wrap his strong arms around my waist, I lean back to rest my head on his shoulder, taking in his familiar scent. I turn to look up at him. I don’t know how his dimples haven’t popped right off his face from how much he’s been smiling this evening.

“Let’s have a baby,” I blurt out, looking into the pure joy glinting in his eyes. The joy turns to shock. He grabs my shoulders, spinning me around so he can search my eyes for any hint of joking. There isn’t any.

“Are you serious y/n?” He asks. The smile now just his jaw dropped to the floor, his eyes wide and his eyebrows raised so high that they’re hidden behind his curls. I chuckle at his reaction, my chest warming at how excited that one sentence has made him.

“Yes,” I simply answer. He matches my smile, pulling me into his chest so tight it almost hurts, but I don’t say anything.

“I want nothing more than that y/n,” he mumbles to the crook of my neck. I wiggle out of his grip enough to meet his gaze, seeing his mahogany eyes glistening. He blinks and a single tear threatens to escape though his long lashes. He reaches a hand up quickly to wipe the happiness attempting to leak from his eye.

“Let’s do it,” I grin. Every doubt, every concern, flying quickly out of my mind. The speech I was going to give him about the dangers and responsibilities of childbearing now long gone after seeing how happy the idea of us having our very own bundle of joy is making Evan.

“I love you so much y/n Peters,” he pulls me into a soft kiss, his lips warm against mine. I reach my hands up to bury my fingers in his curls.

“And I love you Evan Peters,” I smile against his lips. Though this kiss is gentle, but it is easily the most intimate kiss we’ve had. I can feel the adoration with every breath that fans over my face. “I think we should try as soon as Ellie goes home,” I suggest, pulling away from the kiss, resting my forehead on his.

“You wouldn’t reckon my brothers on his way home now, would you?” He jokes as he reaches down to grab my hands. Running his thumbs over my knuckles.

“I’m not even sure they’re out of the state yet Ev,” I smile at my husband. He brings both my hands up to his mouth, kissing each one gently.

“I suppose I can wait,” he sighs. I giggle, grabbing his arm to guide him to our room.

“Let’s check on Ellie one more time, then we can head to bed ourselves,” I whisper as we walk towards the guest room.

“You seriously expect me to be able to sleep, Honey? I feel like a kid on Christmas Eve night,” he flashes his dimples, I roll my eyes and smile at his excitement.

#ahs cult #ahs hotel #evan peters #evan peters smut #jimmy darling smut #kai anderson #kit walker smut #ahs asylum #ahs fandom #ahs murder house #jimmy darling x reader #evan peters x reader #kai anderson smut #kit walker x reader #kit walker #kit walker imagine #quicksilver #quicksilver smut #peter maximoff #tate langdon smut #tate langdon #evan peters fluff #tate langdon fluff #kai anderson fluff

[the-ace-with-spades]

Bradley is eleven, will turn twelve in five months, his mom has been dead for over a year, and his dad for over nine.

His homeroom teacher gives him a permission slip for a school trip to some dumb museum Bradley’s probably already been to and says, “Your dad needs to sign it before next Monday.”

It’s Mav picking him up from school today — it’s Ice, usually, but he is supervising night-time flight maneuvers tonight — so Bradley gets in the car and they go over the normal, how was school today, any new grades, any homework to do, do you need to bring anything for class tomorrow.

They’ve stopped at a light and Bradley takes out the permission slip and says, “Mrs. Sanchez said my dad needs to sign it before Monday or I won’t go.”

Mav—Mav freezes. His hand grips the shift gear and he clenches his jaw, not looking at Bradley. The car behind them has to honk for him to snap out of it.

“I’m—I’m not your dad, Bradley,” he finally says.

“It’s just what Mrs. Sanchez said,” he points out. He doesn’t think it’s such a big deal — Mav’s been doing everything a dad would for years now, for Bradley, and Ice has been helping him the last couple of years. It’s a conclusion that many come to and it seems logical. Bradley is sure half of his teachers thought that even back when his mom was alive, Mav had certainly been to enough PTA meetings with her that it’d be an easy mistake.

“You can correct her, buddy, no one is going to be mad if you correct her, okay?”

They arrive at the house and Mav still hasn’t added anything. Bradley shrugs it off — Mav has these moments, sometimes, when he gets all quiet and unresponsive. Ice usually tells him to leave him alone or wait a couple of hours and try to cuddle with him. Bradley is kind of too big for that now, but it seems to help sometimes.

So Bradley asks if Mav needs help with dinner and after hearing no, goes back to his room.

Out of all that mess, he forgets about the permission slip.

He sits down and fills out all the empty lines so Mav just has to sign it — in capital letters, his handwriting isn’t that readable yet — and leaves just that last line with the date and signature empty.

He thinks, once again, about what Mrs. Sanchez said.

He doesn’t feel the need to correct her, still. He barely remembers his dad — he knows he loved them and he’ll never forget all the stories he heard from everyone but they’re, well, just stories. Mav is the one who taught him how to ride a bike and helped him make stupid macaroni projects for art classes, taught him how to count to a hundred, and how to tie his shoelaces and who would notice when Bradley was outgrowing his clothes or needed a new shoe size. Mav is there, every memory he has. Mav loves him like his mom and dad did.

Mav is his dad.

If Bradley’d really think about it, Ice is getting really close to being his dad, too. He’s making Bradley’s school lunches and helping him with his English homework from time to time, and he comes to Bradley’s matches and, even if Mav will never admit it, he’s the one who choses Bradley’s Christmas and birthday presents. He makes him hot chocolate when he has nightmares and stays with him for hours in the living room, reading plane manuals out loud, in the same tone his mom used to use to read his bedtime stories.

Bradley calling Mav his dad is as logical as people assuming he is his dad. And maybe it can be the same with Ice, in the near future, or maybe even now, if he agrees.

Bradley wants to call Mav dad.

So he grabs the permission slip and goes to the kitchen to tell him that.

“I don’t know, Ice, I just don’t know.”

He doesn’t notice Bradley there, standing with the piece of paper in his hand in the doorway. The phone’s cord is stretched across the kitchen, almost completely straight, as he talks with the handle between his ear and shoulder, slicing an onion at the same time.

“I’ve always wanted to have kids, as unrealistic as it seemed, but not like this,” he continues. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this, I’m not his dad, he’s not my son, it’s just wrong to think that, I’m not—He can’t think that.”

Bradley blinks. Once, twice, a third time. Takes a quiet step back behind the doorframe, flattens his back on the cold wall. Holds his breath.

“I mean, you’ve always said you don’t want kids,” Mav says, the knife clanking on the cutting board as he changes the hand holding the phone. “We made do with the situation, obviously, but we’re not his parents—”

Bradley doesn’t want to hear more.

*

Bradley was right — he’s already been to the Castle Air Museum. More than once, with his mom, with Mav and Ice, and with Uncle Slider and Aunt Sarah.

His dad didn’t sign the permission slip but Mav did.

It’s sunny so they’re left to wander around the outside display. The tour was boring — their tour guide couldn’t even answer the questions about engines and wingspans and takeoff capacity and it was so disappointing to know more than the adult that was supposed to teach them, again.

The rest of his class went with the tour guide, to see the open cockpit of the Mentor but Bradley just turned around to the F-4 that was on the edge of the display, old and partially reconstructed with cheap metal and plastic. He sits down on the grass in front of it and lets the sun shine at the modern paint that should not belong on the fuselage of a Phantom.

Mrs. Sanchez comes over, standing above him, looking at the Phantom with an appreciation that is clearly less understanding and more awe at the sight. She hums before asking Bradley, “You don’t want to see the cockpit with everyone? Maybe they’ll let you sit in the pilot seat, today. Our group is small.”

The open cockpit belongs to T-34, a piston-driven one they stopped using in the fifties. “I flew one of those, but it was a T-34C, powered by a turboprop.”

Mrs. Sanchez looks at him, tilting her head a bit, not really understanding what Bradley said, like most people don’t when he talks about planes. ”I suppose it’s not that impressive of a place when your dad is a naval aviator, is it?”

Mav told him to correct her so he does, “He’s not my dad.”

He brings his knees closer, wishing she’d go away. Instead, she sits down next to him, her white pants smudged green by the grass in seconds.

“Is something wrong at home, Bradley? Is your—Is everything okay with Pete?”

“Yeah,” he says because he doesn't want to be whiney. He’s already been enough trouble. “His dad flew one of those.”

Mrs. Sanchez looks at the plague in front of them to remind herself of the plane’s name. “A Phantom?”

“Yeah, during Vietnam War.”

“He must be really proud of Pete then.”

Bradley supposes he’d be. “He didn’t come back.”

Mav lost his dad, too, and then his mom. He met Bradley’s mom in the foster system and she became like a sister to him. Bradley probably wouldn’t even know Mav if Duke Mitchell was alive.

Bradley was in the foster system for three weeks when his mom died, before Mav and his case worker had filed all the appropriate paperwork. He was placed in a foster family in the neighboring town — the wife, Sandie, didn’t work and would take him to school every morning, and the husband, Robert, was a corporate lawyer, bent from six to five. They would take Bradley to church every Sunday with the rest of the kids even though Sundays were the only days Mav had enough time to drive out of Fresno and visit him while the paperwork was still in progress,

They were nice, he supposes, and some of the kids called them mom and dad, so they couldn’t be too bad.

“Is there a way I could go back to the foster system?” 

Mrs. Sanchez looks away from the plane, clears her throat, and asks gently, “Why would you go back there?”

“I dunno, just—Is there a way to put me back there?”

“I don’t think so, no, Bradley, not unless—” she breaks off, taking a deep breath, and says softly, “I’m sure Pete wouldn’t like that.”

Maybe he wouldn’t like that but it’d make everything easier for everyone.

*

It’s a few weeks later. Mrs. Sanchez hasn’t mentioned anything to Bradley even if she keeps on looking out for him during recess so he doesn’t think she’ll drill the topic.

Mav and Ice have both gone to the PTA meeting which Bradley finds odd. They’ve always been very careful about their relationship — his mom had given him a talk about how he couldn’t call Ice Mav’s boyfriend when he was six, well, Bradley had called him his husband because he didn’t really know the difference back then, and he had been instructed to keep it a secret.

He’s never mentioned it to anyone, since then, especially not to Mrs. Sanchez. He used to think it was stupid because they were both his parents and they should both be allowed to come to his plays and career days and charity fairs, but now he supposes it was convenient since Ice didn’t want a kid and probably didn’t want to be included in all those parental stuff anyway.

They pick him up from Uncle Slider and Aunt Sarah’s place but they don’t say anything. Usually, they at least mention that Bradley has good grades.

Maybe he’s doing something wrong, again. He got into one fight a couple of weeks ago but Mav said it was alright as long as it didn’t happen again.

“Can you come up to the living room once you unpack?”

Bradley takes his time. He unpacks his English homework, the only one he couldn’t do but also one Uncle Slider couldn’t really help him with — Aunt Sarah probably could but she’s been sleeping the whole time because apparently being six months pregnant is making her super sleepy. Contemplates asking Ice for help with it but decides it’s probably better he doesn’t.

He needs to start doing these things alone. He can’t bother them forever.

In six years, he’s going to be in college, and he holds onto that thought.

“So, your grades are perfect and we’re really proud of how well you’re doing in school, but—But Mrs. Sanchez mentioned a couple of things about your behavior,” Mav says.

Bradley doesn’t sit down with them on the couch even though they left space for him in the middle. He also doesn’t reply anything.

They both look at Bradley for a long moment and he fidgets under their gazes.

“Mrs. Sanchez said you asked her whether we—whether we can give you back for adoption,” Mav begins. “We’re just worried about where that question came from, Bradley, we aren’t going to—”

He said we like Ice actually wants anything to do with Bradley’s guardianship.

“We love you, Bradley, we promised your mom we’d take care of you and—”

He isn’t their son. He’s a promise they’re keeping and nothing else.

“Can I go back to my room?”

“Buddy—” Mav begins again.

Bradley doesn’t want to hear whatever he has to say. He already knows everything he needs to know.

“I know you love me, I know you won’t give me back. It was just a stupid question, is all,” he says because that was the truth — they promised his mom they would love him and here they were, trying very hard to do that.

They don’t need to pretend it’s anything else.

“Okay,” Ice says, carefully. “I’ll make you some hot chocolate and we can talk some more—”

“I just want to go to sleep.”

There’s a moment of silence and they give each other a meaningful look before turning back to Bradley.

Ice notes, “It’s not even seven.”

“We painted the whole nursery with Uncle Slider, I’m just tired. Can I go?”

“You’re not in trouble,” Mav says.

“I know,” Bradley tells him even if he isn’t so sure about it. “Can I go? I still have some homework to do.”

part two/Slider POV now here

#bradley rooster bradshaw #mavdad #icemav #tgm #my fics #this was supposed to be a series but no time and too many wips #so im just posting it as it is #tho be prepared for icemav pov of this and slider pov and future post-mission hangster pov #so maybe part 2 coming? #it'll be angsty too but well ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ #the ace rooster fic is being written btw bc #the mini fics are in my head and banging on the walls begging to come out #op #charlie writes

[livwritesstuff]

Ok another question for you my friend, vaguely inspired by something my dad said.

We were talking, essentially, about mortality. My dad said men, generally, have a very good sense of time marching on, while women tend to see “milestones”; baby’s first steps, first childhood crush, graduating high school, etc. and it’ll just hit them sometimes.

So, two-part question: do you think both Steve and Eddie are as my dad described? Steve—aka Mr. psych major—would, I think; but I’m not sure about Eddie.

And part 2: how do they react to their daughters’ prom/homecoming dresses?

ooh okay

I think Eddie would be the one getting caught up in the minutia of it all. He’s the one being like “holy shit, I can’t believe she’s turning [insert age here]” and getting upset every time they lose interest in some little-kid thing, and he notices when a t-shirt that used to be Moe’s when she was little ends up in a donation bag because Hazel finally outgrew it. I think a plus side of this is that he gets to process the whole passage of time thing as it’s happening.

Psych-guy Steve, on the other hand, I feel like would almost be a little detached from it, and not in a bad way necessarily, but I think his perception would be very clinical – like, kids get older, kids grow up, it’s normal and natural and good and all that jazz. I think he’d have an awareness from the beginning that he and Eddie aren’t raising babies, they’re raising people who are babies for a little bit but are ultimately going to be a whole lot more than that.

He gets excited about all the milestones, especially when the girls are babies, but he’s not really thinking too much about it until suddenly he’s teaching Moe how to drive and he has this moment of, “Uh, hang on…when the hell did this happen?”, and I feel like with each kid, it might get just a bit more distressing.

As for prom, I have a longer post planned for when it gets a little closer to prom season (for the U.S., anyways) but my initial thoughts are that Hazel’s prom might be that moment for Steve, even if it’s just her junior prom and he’s still got another year with her before she’s flying the coop too. He wasn’t expecting to get emotional about it either, because between his three daughters there’s been a bazillion homecomings and proms that he hasn’t batted an eye over, but something about seeing his youngest daughter in a long dress with her hair (which is usually a total disaster) done all nice has him going, “Wait-wait-wait-wait she’s supposed to be a baby.”

#and then eddie is stuck at home with a total headcase for the next five hours #steve: there's still time for us to have one more right?!? #eddie: we are two steps away from retirement champ but nice try #steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson

[12boogaloo]

Okay, I cant take it anymore. The brain rot is REAL

Been on a writing hiatus since 2019 or 2020 (I honestly don’t remember so don’t @ me)

And what gets me to finally start writing again?

You guessed it ladies, gents, and serpents!

Fucking TROLLS 3

Let’s get this bread or die trying y’all 😈

~•~

So first things first: I didn’t come up with the AU’s I’m using here! They were created by TheMiraculousMat and Keebsification on here and AO3

The AU’s in question are The Eldest and The Youngest and Out The Train Wreck

I just love it when people see John Dory and think “hmmm yes this grown man can fit so much eldest daughter energy in him” cuz SAME

So I thought: what if I just… put em together? OTT! JD and E&Y! JD have a grip on my soul and I’m filling a formal complaint in the form of fanfiction for not just 1, but 2 other pieces of fanfiction!!! Cuz why not

I’m gonna post the notes I’ve had about this idea for the past 2 week, at least the first part.

Well… it’s half notes, half chapter really…

Maybe. MAYBE. I’ll clean it up and post it on AO3. Maybe… probably lets be real

Anyway. Y’all can call me Boog and this is Project: Hyperfixation Won

Actual story name pending…

~•~

Part 1: Author’s Actual Notes because they are a nerd

Got an idea

Gonna scratch the itch

Half brain rot dump and half story here

Combination of the Eldest and Youngest JD and the Train Wreck JD

I also head canon that trolls have tails and claws and fangs

They’re lil creatures

Basically the same stuff happens in TW with the manager and John being Branch’s father.

Branch grows up knowing JD is his dad while everyone else thinks they’re brothers.

He and Luka are dating. He’s basically Branch’s other dad.

Luka gets taken and John thinks he died. He keeps his glove to remember him.

The fight still happens. John still leaves but promises Branch that he’ll come back.

He goes to the Neverglades for the next four years.

When he gets a letter about Rosiepuff and Branch he immediately heads back to the tree to take care of him.

Pretty much all of E&Y happens but with the change of Branch knowing JD is his dad.

Makes the trauma of him leaving worse in a way which adds to the angst of the first parts delicious, but it also makes their bond really solid later on.

John forgot that everyone in the village knew them as brothers until Poppy asks him if John is Branch’s daddy out of the blue. He panics and says “no” on instinct and they both decide to just go with it. Easier than explaining it to everyone.

She still doesn’t know. Nobody does.

John still loses his arm trying to save Creek(nasty ass).

One morbid silver lining John felt was that at least it wasn’t the hand he wore Luka’s glove on. Small miracles. Lol I’m sorry

Branch doesn’t remember Luka anymore, at least not really. He sorta remembers a burgundy haired troll that he thought was important but couldn’t remember anything else about them so he didn’t think too much about it.

John doesn’t really like talking about him and Branch hasn’t ever asked so he doesn’t bring it up.

He starts dating Hickory and he does tell him about Luka. He admits that while he definitely is falling for Hickory, a part of him will always belong to Luka and their relationship will always be really important to him.

Hickory is more than okay with that and even tells him that he would’ve loved to have met the man that made his sweetheart so happy and kept him safe before it was his turn. (John just about cried when he said that same buddy and agreed that they’d probably get along pretty well.)(He shows Hickory pictures of him and Luka one day and they laugh over the fact that John clearly has a type.)(And, based on Hickory’s own light blush, same.)(He immediately said Luka was ‘real cute’ and John still laughs at him for it.)

He also tells him about Bold and how Branch came to be. (Hickory spent solid hours comforting him afterwards and spent an equal amount of time thinking of ways he could get Dickory to help him torture the bastard if he ever saw him.)(He decides in that moment that he’d do anything to protect his boyfriend and his son. Anything.) (He’s also even more grateful to Luka when he hears about how he protected his love the day they met. He really wishes he could thank him…)

Branch makes jokes about not calling Hickory his stepdad till they get married, which makes John flush bright blue. (Hickory just laughs and winks, the traitor.)(Hickory secretly really wants Branch to call him ‘Pops’ and he’s so obvious about it.)(Branch finds it hilarious and doesn’t on purpose. He’d actually love to call him that, he’s just being an ass.)(You’d think he wouldn’t ever want to but no. For some reason, it’s only thinking of Hickory as ‘Papa’ specifically that makes him feel wrong. Like that’s not available to him. I wonder why.)

After saving Floyd, the boys all start spending more time together as a family. Floyd and Clay move into the bunker with John and Branch. Bruce still lives on Vacay Island but he tries to visit at least once a week, even bringing his wife and kids with him if he can.

They still love doing shows together and will do a big one every two weeks at least.

A few months later, they’re getting ready to hangout together after a performance in PopVillage. Hickory isn’t with them, he was actually watching with Tiny in the crowd, so he can’t see them.(Lil dude is really attached to his “Uncle Cowboy” and “Uncle Johnny” it’s adorable.)(And yes Guy is close by, Tiny is still very very grounded.)

Poppy wants to introduce them to a former stage manager that she’s worked with before that had come to see the show from TrollCity. Branch has met him once before and thought the guy was weird and a little creepy but nothing else made him feel suspicious so he kinda just ignored it. He figured if Poppy trusted him, it was fine. (Obviously he still kept an eye on the old bastard, cause your boy isn’t paranoid for nothing. And you never know.)

They all agree to meet and when they get backstage… it’s him.

Bold.

The bros old manager. The man who hurt their eldest unimaginably.

JD basically shuts down as his younger brothers immediately shield him from view.

They need to get out of here without causing a scene. Fast.

“Poppy, I think we need to go…” Floyd mumbles, his usually soft features twisting in both anger and slight fear as he stared the old troll down.

Poppy looks at them in confusion, “Wha- but you guys said you wanted to see everything we set up!!” She looks between the brothers and the older manager, Branch joining her as his eyebrows furrowed.

“Sorry, kids, I don’t think we can do that…” Bruce doesn’t take his eyes off of the old man as he steps back, closer to Clay and Floyd who were holding John Dory’s arms and hands to keep him steady in their safety bubble, their tails wrapped around his waist. “Not when he’s here.”

Poppy blinks in confusion. “What do you mean? Have you met Mr. Bold before?” She asks.

The old bastard chuckles. “Don’t worry, Miss Poppy.” Poppy huffs a bit at being called ‘miss’. (She’s Queen, dammit. Only Hickory calls her ‘miss’ and it’s always as a joke.) “I was the boys’ manager back in the day! It’s just been a while since we’ve seen each other.” He looks over each brother, clearly trying to get a look at John Dory and noticeably souring when he’s blocked. Then he smirks, taking a few steps closer, his wooden cane thunking against the floor. John flinches with each tap, tap, tap. “You’ve all grown up so much.”

Bruce holds his ground, crossing his arms and rolling his shoulders, his bigger body blocking most of JD from view. Clay was growling behind him, both him and Floyd curling closer to John and their ears pressed back in irritation. Bruce gives a humorless chuckle. “Heh. Yeah, we’ve grown up, Bold. We grew up and you’re fucking old now.”

Poppy gasps. “B-Bruce, that’s not nice!” She turns to Bold and smiles nervously. “I’m so sorry-“

The man waves her off. “Don’t fret. I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it. He’s right after all.” He looks at them again all smugly, leaning on his cane. “Like I said, it’s been a long time.”

Floyd scoffs. “Not long enough.” He growls, baring his teeth. His claws start coming out and he’s thankful he’s holding John’s prosthetic arm as he feels them scratch the metal.

“Woah, okay, what the hell is up with you guys?” Branch finally steps in. That was so unlike Floyd to say something like that. He’s never seen the older troll that angry before, he’s never seen any of his uncles that angry before.

Bruce huffs. “What’s up is that we’re leaving. Now.” He goes to turn around to start steering his brothers out of the room when he hears Bold chuckle, making them all freeze.

“You all really have changed so much,” He says, his tail swaying side-to-side behind him. John looks up and they manage to lock eyes, Bold smiling sickly as John stares in horror. “Especially you, Johnny Baby.”

John feels sick. He feels like he’s gonna pass out. He feels his legs start giving out as Clay and Floyd rush to hold him up. He feels his body going completely limp and his vision blurs and his chest hurts and he can’t breATHE-

Bruce tackles the old troll, immediately landing brutal hits to the bastards face. He screams between punches, “DON’T TALK TO MY BROTHER!” Bold tries to hit him back, only managing to smack Bruce in the side once with his cane before continuing to get pummeled.

Branch and Poppy jump in frantically to pull him off of the man and the three of them stumble back. Bruce shoves them off and glares at Bold again. He was lying on the ground, groaning and clutching his nose, there were scratches and bruises on his face and he was covered in his own glittery copper blood. “Stay. The FUCK. Away. From John.” Bruce pants and shakes out his hands, flexing his exposed claws. He spits on the ground. “Bastard.” He turns back to his brothers. “Cmon, let’s get out of here.” He lifts JD up bridal style and Clay and Floyd follow him as he starts rushing to the door.

“Wait, hold on!” Branch runs after them, leaving Poppy standing in confused horror at what just happened.

~•~

That’s what I’ll give for now lol

I have like wayyy more written out but I’m mean so 😈

Anyway

Thank you for coming to my ted talk

Lmk what y’all think ig

Check out the folks that created these AU’s plz @matmiraculous and Keebsification (idk their tumblr so plz don’t yell at me) both on AO3 where I found them

Later yall

#trolls band together #hickdory #eldest and youngest au #out the train wreck #trolls john dory #holy shit what has happened to me #hyperfixation ftw #trolls clay #trolls floyd #trolls branch #trolls bruce #my fav besides John Dory

[livelaughloveneteyamm]

ALL MINE.

neteyam x fem!reader

a/n: i am in love with neteyam like ever since i saw the movie it’s been all about neteyam and lo’ak istg

warning: it’s all fluff for now <3

summary: when you hear that the sully family is leave you have to ask jake sully if you can go with them to the Metkayina clan, he says yes because you’ve been a family friend for years also because you just lost your mother and don’t like your father very much.another reason you wanted to go with is because you can’t stand the thought of being with out your best friends brother neteyam. you’re 19 lo’ak is 18 and neteyam is 20. you’ve always had eyes for him but little did he know.

wc:1.11k

___

you’ve always been best friends with lo’ak since he was born. you’re nine months older than him but nine months younger than neteyam so you were always hanging around them and kiri to but when you heard all the talk about them leaving you knew what you had to do.

you make your way to the sully hut pacing back-and-forth like it was the hardest thing you’ve ever done. you take a deep breath and enter the hut and you see jake sitting on his hammock “hey y/n how’s it going honey? if you’re looking for the boys they’re out in the forest” he says with a stressful sigh. “um actually i was looking for you” you say nervously “alright then come, talk to me” he pats the space next to him on the hammock “sit” you obey and sit next to him “so i was wondering if maybe…” you pause “if maybe i could come to the Metkayina clan with you and your family” you take a deep breath in after you ask the question he looks at you with a soft smile “yes of course baby girl” you smile wide “sullys stick together, even though you weren’t born into this family, you are apart of it,always”

“thank you sir” you say before you get up to leave but then he stops you “also before you go i wanted you to know that i know you’re in love with one of my boys, and i’m almost certain it’s lo’ak” you feel your face heat up and you almost run out of the hut.

___

“neteyam!” you say from behind the boy he turns to look at you but then turns back around, you plop down next to him putting your feet in the water as he had his “what is wrong teyem?” you say putting your hand on the boys back “i am leaving,leaving you, leaving my home,leaving everyone” he voice cracks but you start to smile knowing you have news that’ll make him happier than ever “well i have good news for you” he looks up “i talked to your dad and.. i get to come with you to Metkayina” his face lights up suddenly you feel yourself being thrown into his arms as he stands up hugging you off the ground and spins you around “you are coming with? really?” he smiles “yes!” you laugh you feel your face starting to heat up when you look at neteyam in the eyes, there’s something there. something that hasn’t be let out yet. he puts you down “thank you” he says with a smile.

___

you finally make the landing at Metkayina after hours of flying on your ikran. you and the sully family make your way up to the Olo'eyktan. jake and the man talk when you slowly feel neteyams hand sneak it’s way to yours. “i can smell the fear coming off of you, relax beauty.” did neteyam just call you beauty? his younger brothers stupid best friend? you were going insane inside. that’s when a beautiful girl emerges from the water the Olo'eyktan daughter, tsireya. “hi” lo’ak says in order to get the girl’s attention but she just giggles at the boy’s flustered face. me and neteyam laugh to ourselves when the Tsahìk ronal starts circling around us then picks up lo’aks hand “demon blood!” she says making everyone gasp when she goes for your hand next to start criticizing more but sees you only have four fingers, she hisses to herself.

___

months go by and lo’ak is now mated with tsireya, kiri mated with rotxo and that leaves you and neteyam still looking for a mate. let’s face it neteyam didn’t want you.

it was late at night and all the teens had met up in a hut and ended up falling asleep, neteyam was behind you and lo’ak was in front of you with tsireya. until he turned around because he couldn’t sleep either. “lo’ak?” you whisper “y/n” he whispers back which makes you smile your hand finds it way to his face “y/n?” he says confused “lo’ak i’m so happy you found someone that sees you. tsireya is right for you, i’m so glad you have her” he chuckles “what is this about?” he asks concerned. neteyam over hears and starts to eavesdrop on what you were saying was bothering you. “i love neteyam” you sigh “but soon he’s gonna find someone to mate with and i’ll never have him” lo’ak looks at you nervous to speak “uh..” you look at his expression “what is it?” he points behind you, you turn around to see neteyam wide awake and he hears every word you said loud and clear. you feel your heart drop. you get up as fast and as quietly as possible and leave the hut.

you sit in front of the beautiful ocean as the tide washes up and you feel the cold water on your toes. you take a deep breath in and out and your eyes start to water when hear your name being called behind you. you know it’s neteyam or lo’ak so you don’t turn around, you pray it’s not neteyam. it gets closer then you realize it is neteyam “fuck” you curse yourself under your breath when he sits next to you. he sees the tears covering your face “hey.” he gently puts his hand on your cheek and wipes the tears “there’s nothing to cry about pretty baby” you look up at the pet name he called you tilting your head into his cheeks.

he brings his face closer to your ear and whispers “i love you too” he kisses the spot behind your ear “i’ve been waiting to tell you that i wanted you to be my mate until you had your ceremony” a wide smile sneaks across your face. “but that means i am not to touch you until you’ve had your ceremony” the smile drops as he removes all contact from you looking you in the eyes “good night my mate”

#avatar way of water #neteyam sully #neteyam fluff #neteyam smut #jake sully #avatar #loak smut #lo’ak sully #loak x tsireya #neteyam x reader

[fantasticallyfruity4]

This is some hallmark bullshit but Single dad! Steve and single dad! Eddie.

Single dad Steve and single dad eddie whose daughters (El and Max, respectively) go to the same school.

Steve’s daughter has always gotten bullied, a fact he’s very unhappy about, but hasn’t been able to do anything about.

Calling teachers, meeting with the principal, these assholes can’t control their kids. And Els only friend from last year isn’t in her class anymore. This year has been rough, on both father and daughter. No one likes to see their kids so unhappy when they cant do anything about it, especially Steve. His little princess is his whole world.

But lately it seems she has a friend, finally. and apparently this girl protects her at school.

The girl is new to the class, new in town he assumes. She sticks up for El, apparently, and sits with her at lunch. Teams up with her in gym. El has a friend. Finally.

And Steve wants to go talk to this kids parent, tell them how much of a great kid they’ve got, thank them, thank the kid.

And the next day at school pickup when el comes out he asks, where’s the girl whose been sticking up for you, your new friend?. And el points at a little red head whose holding the pinky of a intimidating metal head whose signing her out.

He’s really hot, the dad, Atleast that’s what Steve assumes he is to her. And his brain is melting into itself. He’s got these rings and piercing and all this hair and he’s in all black and leather and metal and he’s beautiful and Steve’s having a moment. He was expecting to shake some old housewives hand. Not talk to this guy. He didn’t think he could do it, honestly.

“Pappa?” El asks yanking on Steve’s shirt hem, snapping him back into reality.

The dilf is picking up the girls yellow backpack and getting ready to leave, so Steve realizes he has to do this now or never.

“Hey, scuse me, sorry-“

Before Steve can talk more els friend is smiling and hugging her. “El!” And the man is grinning, eyes flicking between he display and Steve’s eyes. He’s got this grin and look in his eyes like he knows something.

“Maxxie is this that new friend of yours? The one who likes Wonder Woman too?”.

And oh my god, is that why els comics keep disappearing? Because she’s giving them to her friend? Steve thought she was loosing them, or even worse the bullies were taking them. But now Steve can’t be mad. That’s… that’s so sweet. That’s his kid. He’s doing okay too, if his kid is sharing her prized comics with her new friend.

The little red head grins and nods. “She’s my best friend!”.

Steve smiles, watching El blush while she hugs her friend. It’s so cute. It’s too fucking cute.

“Hey, I’m eddie” Eddie introduces. “Steve, nice to meet you man”.

Eddie nodds.

“Wanted to come say thank you, to you and your daughter. Els has it really hard here, and Max has really stood up for her. It means a lot to both of us, you uh, you’ve got a great kid.”

Eddie beams with pride, squeezing max’s shoulders.

“That’s what we do, right? We look out for other people, right?”.

She nods.

And it blooms into a beautiful friendship. Kids and adults alike.

Problem is both men assume the other must be straight.

“I like your rainbow converse max! They’re very cool!” Steve compliments the 7 year old. The girl beams with her missing front teeth on full display. “They match my daddy’s!” She proudly states. Steve chuckled to himself. “Your dad has rainbow converse? Are you sure were talking about the same guy?”.

The little girl runs back to el on the playground giggling, as Eddie approaches Steve.

Sure enough, in rainbow vans. “We’ll I’ll be damned”. Eddie chuckles and shakes his head. “You can say what you want about corporate pride, but giving Nike $80 sure beats getting the shit kicked out of me for liking guys” Eddie winks.

“Oh- you’re gay?”

Eddie nods. But it’s a curt nod. A little defensive. Steve hates it. “That a problem for you, big boy?”.

Steve isn’t sure he’s ever heard eddie so defensive, so hostile. And he hates it.

“No! No way not at all man! It’s cool, it’s all cool. I’m bi”

Eddies jaw drops a little bit. But closes quickly.

“You dress so fucking stupid I figured you were straight this whole time” Eddie teases elbowing Steve’s ribs.

“Ouch, this is coming from the guy in the worlds most gaudy converse?”

#steddie #single dads steddie

[arc-misadventures]

Rebirth au: whos him that papa arc is talking about? Finally some context as to WHY they're an asshole to Jaune, and is Jeanne gonna make it into the harem?

The Cold Heart Truth

Acheius: Okay… Okay… Head count… Jaune, Jeanne, Saphire, Saphron…

Juniper: Luna, Janette, Carol, Angela, Thiriana… Yeah, that’s all of them.

Luna: What’s going on mom?

Saphron: Dad’s gonna tell us why he doesn’t want, Jaune to be a, Huntsman.

Carol: Oh this should be good.

Angela: I wonder what this will be about.

Jeanne: Dad’s going to explain why he won’t let, Jaune train to become a, Huntsman.

Janette: Oh this should be good.

Jaune: It better be…

Thiriana: Okay, Dad we’re all here, explain why you won’t let, Jaune become a, Huntsman?

Acheius: …

Juniper: It’s okay, Dear, we’re all here with you.

Acheius: Okay… This happened years ago… many years ago…

Saphron: How many years ago?

Acheiss: Enough.

Saphron: That’s not a…!

Juniper: Save your questions for later, Saphron.

Saphron: Sorry.

Saphire: Go on, Dad.

Acheius: Haaa… Okay… So your mother, and I were on our way home after a trip from the hospital. Your mother was about five months pregnant at the time, we went to see how the baby was doing. The pregnancy wasn’t go that well. Not that it was bad, but it wasn’t that well…

Thiriana: What’s was wrong?

Juniper: It was my first pregnancy. We weren’t sure what would happen, so we went to the hospital to see how things were going. Everything was fine.

Saphron: I thought you had a hard time with my birth?

Juniper: Both set of the twins were harder to deal with…

Jeanne: Sorry…

Juniper: Don’t worry. Keep going, Achi.

Acheius: Well, we were on our way back with a caravan, merchants, people fleeing, Vale. And a couple of, Hunter’s. I was nervous beyond belief, I wanted to get back home as fast as I could because I was freaking out about the baby, and your mother.

Carol: Not much has changed has it?

Acheius: Ha! No, no it hasn’t… Anyway, you can all probably expect what happened…

Jaune: A Grimm attack?

Acheius: Yeah… Typical, Grimm attack… But… by the time I realized we were under attack… the cart that had been carrying us had been flipped over… and… and…

Juniper: And, I lost the baby…

Saphron: Oh gods!

Thiriana: Saphron wasn’t the first?!

Janette: W-What?!

Coral: You had a miscarriage…?!

Angela: Mom, are you okay?

Jeanne: Excuse me! I need to… Hrk?!

Saphire: Me too!

Luna: The baby…

Jaune: …

Juniper: Uhh… We’ll continue our story when your sisters come back.

Acheius: They’re taking this better than I expected…

~~~

Juniper: So… Everyone feeling better?

JS: No…

Carol: That was to be expected…

Janette: No shit! It’s not every day your mom tells you she had a miscarriage! How else did you expect them to react?!

Coral: You know that’s not what I meant, Jan!

Janette: Then why the hell are you making jokes?!

Coral: How the fuck do you expect me to take this?! Making jokes is the only way I can… I can handle… THIS?!!

Janette: Have you ever heard of a thing called timing?!

Thiriana: Enough! Enough you two… Neither of you are helping… You’re just making things worse…

Carol: Ah! S-Sorry… I didn’t mean to…

Janette: Sorry…

Jeanne: Jaune…?

Jaune: …

Jeanne: Jaune, are you okay…?

Jaune: It was a boy… Wasn’t it?

Juniper: What?

Jaune: Mom was five months pregnant; you can tell the gender of the baby by then… You don’t want me to be a, Huntsman because you’re scared. Scared because you don’t want to lose another son, aren’t you?

Acheius: Ha! Haha haaaa… You’re damn right I’m scared…

Jaune: …

Acheius: Haa… When you said you wanted to become a, Huntsman… I haven’t felt such fear before in my life… I laughed at you not because I don’t think you couldn’t be a, Huntsman, Jaune. You’re damn clever boy, more so than most people think. You would be one hell of an impressive, Huntsman. I laughed because… Because it’s a defence mechanism! I laugh when I’m scared, and when you said you wanted to be a huntsman… I’m terrified to lose another son… I… I can’t handle it… I can’t handle it again…

Luna: I’m confused… Why are you so hurt about this, Dad! Mom lost the baby not you!

Juniper: Luna!

Jaune: But, Dad couldn’t do anything.

Luna: W-What?

Jaune: Dad was with, Mom in the wagon, they didn’t even know the, Grimm was there. Dad is beating himself up because if he was outside watching out for, Grimm, instead of watching over, Mom like he did. Well… Maybe none of this would have happened. And, that’s what’s eating away at, Dad so much, isn’t it?

Acheius: Hehe… Haa… Like I said: He’s a damn clever boy… Yeah… That’s why I’m so upset… I couldn’t do anything to save my unborn son… I’m a failure…

Jeanne: For what? Y-You said it yourself there wasn’t anything you could do! Yes, you lost your first son, but you have, Jaune! You have all of us too!

Saphron: And, you’ve done a damn good job of protecting us! Yes you may have failed… But, it’s like you say: “So long as I can stand back up…”

Acheius: “Any lessoned learned is worth the price…”

Saphron: Yeah…

Jaune: …

Jaune: Dad…?

Acheius: Jaune…?

Jaune: I’m going to be a, Huntsman… No matter what you say I’m going to become a Huntsman. So… Will uou train me to become a, Huntsman. To become the, Huntsman that you needed that day. Please!

Acheius: …

Jeanne: Please, Dad?

Acheius: …

Juniper: Achi…

Acheius: …?

Juniper: He will become that, Huntsman. No matter what comes his way, he will become that, Huntsman. You know he will.

Acheius: Haaa…

Acheius: I’m going to make it hell, for both of you.

Jeanne: Oh! I’m so excited!

Jaune: Ha. Bring it old man.

Acheius: Oh, you’re gonna get it now. Come on uou two. Its time to train you into some, Hunters!

Jeanne: Whoo! Lets fucking go!

Juniper: Language young lady!

Jeanne: Sorry!

Jaune: Thanks, Dad. I’ll make you proud.

Acheius: Ha… You always have, Jaune. You always have…

///

So… Yall still angry at, Jaune’s dad for laughing now?!

Hmm?!! Hmm?!!

HMMM?!!

Seriously, it surprised me how upset you lot were. Gave me some good story idea though so… meh. Whatever.

#rwby #jeanne arc #juniper arc #jaune arc

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

The Same Page Part 4/?

Part 4 is finally here, enjoy!

Warnings: panic attack, I think that’s it. I’m not big on editing so there’s probably some mistakes.

Synopsis: you let your anger override your fear, and John is there to help.

Same Page Masterlist:

You didn’t dream the rest of the night.

When you awoke, you found that your anger was just as potent and alive that it had been in the middle of the night.

Mycroft was asleep in the chair beside your bed, Sherlock slumbering on your bed right by your side.

You knew how hard they were working to make you feel safe, but that didn’t change how much they had lied to you in the past two years. You weren’t ready to let that go just yet.

Your shaking fingers found your phone, and you pressed John’s number, relieved when he answered right away.

You got straight to the point.

“I need you.”

John didn’t hesitate.

“Where are you?”

“Mycroft’s.” You lowered your voice when the man in question stirred. “I can’t be here. With them. Not right now. Please come get me.”

“I’m on my way.”

…

John was nervous, not a feeling he was incredibly used to. He had faced down murderers, terrorists, basically every form taken by the scum of the earth, and yet none of that had prepared him for what had happened in his life the past two years.

As if losing his best friend to suicide wasn’t bad enough, he had to watch you, the girl who had become like a little sister to him, spiral into a depression that nearly destroyed you, and nearly destroyed him to watch.

And now that the person who had caused all that pain—albeit for a good reason—was finally back, he knew you had to be just as angry as him—if not more. That wasn’t something he was used to. He almost never saw you angry—he was always the hothead at Baker Street, never you.

But this was different.

You slid into the car the second John slowed to a stop in Mycroft’s driveway.

“Do they know you’re leaving?”

“Just drive.”

John hesitated. “They’re going to-“

“John. Drive.” He saw your clenched fists, your narrowed eyes, and your tense jaw, and knew that he had never seen you this angry before. It wasn’t something he was about to mess with. He stepped on the gas and the two of you journeyed away from Mycroft’s house.

“What happened?” John asked after several minutes of tense silence. Something had to have made you snap like this.

“I realized I was the only one,” you weren’t looking at John, your gaze directed out the window.

John frowned, “Not the only one. Only a handful of people knew-“

“The only Holmes.”

Oh.

“I’m sure they thought-“

“Mycroft was the one who told me the news. About—about the suicide,” you spat the word out, your teeth gritted in anger. “He watched me fall apart day after day for two years-“ your voice suddenly caught, your anger giving way to tears. “And my mum and dad…they knew, they knew all of it, and they let Mycroft lie to me. They lied to me,” this time when your voice broke off, you didn’t bother trying to start speaking again. The tears had overwhelmed you, and John watched helplessly as you cried into your hands next to him.

John pulled into the parking lot next to a cafe that you both liked, and he leaned over your armrest and wrapped his arms around your shaking frame.

“I’m so sorry.”

…

“I’m sure she’s alright.”

“Alright? Sherlock, you don’t understand, she hasn’t left this house in-“ Mycroft broke off, turning away from his brother to continue scouring your room for evidence to your whereabouts.

Another thing Sherlock wasn’t used to: being the calm one. But perhaps Mycroft was right, perhaps he wasn’t grasping the seriousness of the situation, because he wasn’t used to you being like this, not being able to care for yourself. You had always been rather independent, and Sherlock was all but certain that your grief wouldn’t have robbed you of that quality.

But perhaps he just didn’t understand you. He never had, not really.

But you always understood him. You were a quiet girl, so when Sherlock wanted someone to wow with his observations, you were a perfect listener, and when he went quiet for days on end, intent on his work, you would curl up on the sofa across from him and crack open a book, the two of you lapsing into comfortable silences.

You didn’t have his kind of intelligence, but you loved to listen to his ramblings about whatever case he was on, and every once in a while you would give him an angle that he hadn’t thought of. You weren’t a partner-in-crime the way John was, but you were good company, and you were very patient with him, a quality not found in most people Sherlock met.

But more than any of that, you were his baby sister, and while he had never completely grasped average human sentiment, he knew that he would rather die than see harm come to you. He wanted to see you safe and happy, the way you had been two years ago before Moriarty had robbed you of both.

“Sherlock!”

Sherlock snapped back into focus at his brother’s outburst.

“What?”

“Would you please just focus? I can’t have you distracted, not with her missing.”

Sherlock sighed impatiently.

“We don’t know for certain she’s missing. Just because she isn’t in the house doesn’t mean she’s lost. Have you tried John?”

“Yes. He doesn’t answer.”

“Well then there is your answer. He would have answered unless she asked him not to.”

Mycroft nodded. He may have been more accustomed to you in the past two years, but Sherlock knew John.

…

“That’s the third time he’s called.” John sounded almost worried. You didn’t care.

“I know, John. Just ignore him.”

The two of you had gone inside the cafe, and John was sipping on a cup of coffee while you picked at a muffin.

“I know you’re angry at him, but he’s going to be worried sick about you.”

You didn’t bother with a response to this.

John sighed, “So what now?”

You look up at him, biting your lip. You really hadn’t thought any of this out.

“I don’t know, I guess. I just needed some space.”

“You’re going to have to face him. Both of them.”

“Can’t I just stay with you for a little while?”

John hesitated. He didn’t think it was a good idea, but he also knew how stubborn you could be. If he denied you, you might just push harder.

“Alright. For a bit.”

You smiled at him, and the two of you fell into silence for a while.

“They care about you.”

You were surprised by John’s sudden change in demeanor. His eyes were like laser beams, hyper focused on you, and his sudden analysis made you squirm.

“I know that. But they-“

“What would you have done, in their condition?”

You stared back at John, meeting his gaze.

“Why are you asking me this? Don’t I have a right to be hurt by what they did?”

“Of course you do. But this, what you’re doing now, isn’t going to solve anything. You know that they only acted to protect you, and even though their actions hurt you, their intentions were out of love. You trying to hurt them back won’t fix what’s happened.”

You shake your head, “I’m not trying to hurt them back. I just…I don’t think I can-“

“You don’t want to face them, I get it. But you have to. They’re your brothers, and they care for you. Forgive them.”

You stared at John, and he stared back. While your resolve seemed to be wavering, his was rock solid.

You hated what Sherlock and Mycroft had done to you.

But you couldn’t find it in you to hate them.

Your resolve cracked, and with it, your anger.

A smile crept across your face.

“And I suppose punching Sherlock was going to change something?”

A soft chuckle escaped John’s lips.

“No, no it wasn’t. But it was fun.”

You laughed, the first real laugh in…

Well, in a while.

“Was he surprised? When you hit him?”

John’s laugh grew to a full out belly-laugh.

“It was the most picturesque example of cartoon shock, you should have seen-“

John froze. You weren’t laughing anymore, not really. You had a smile on your face, but it seemed frozen, almost a grimace. John knew that look, that polite, forced smile of yours. He hated it when you used it on him.

“What’s with the face? What’s wrong, are you ok?” He didn’t want you hiding anything from him.

“I-um,” you gulped, blinking rapidly. “I think I-I want to call Mycroft now.”

John felt a mixture of worry and relief. He was glad you seemed to be ready to start forgiving your brothers, but you seemed on the verge of a panic attack now.

You reached your hand out, and John left his seat to kneel next to yours, allowing you to latch onto his arm while he pulled out his cell phone.

“Alright, ok that’s great. I’m calling him now, just, can you breathe for me?”

You coughed out a shaky breath, and John smiled nervously at you as he pressed Mycroft’s number.

“Good, that’s good, again?” Just then Mycroft answered his phone.

“Where are you? Is-“

“The cafe near Baker Street, Sherlock knows it. Hurry,” John hung up on Mycroft and turned all his attention to you. “He’s on his way, with Sherlock, alright?”

You nodded, your eyes darting around the cafe as you lifted a hand up to rub your chest, your breath coming in quick gasps now.

John took both your hands in his, and spoke in a slow, even tone.

“Hey, look at me.” When your eyes met his, he smiled at continued. “This is a bit much, yeah? You haven’t been this far from Mycroft’s house in quite a while,” John was encouraged by your nod. Responding was a good sign. “Yeah, well that’s alright. I know you’re a bit overwhelmed, but there’s nothing to fear. I’m right here, I’m here for you, and Mycroft’s coming to take you home.”

“Are you John Watson?”

John turned instinctively at the sound of his name, and was alarmed to find a woman dressed suspiciously like a reporter standing over him.

“Now’s not a good time, give me some space please,” he tried to turn his attention back to you, but the reporter was insistent.

“How do you feel now that Sherlock Holmes is reported alive?”

“No comment, go away.”

Just then the reporter caught sight of you, and recognition lit up in her eyes.

Oh no.

“Y/N Holmes!”

You flinched at the sound of your name, and you tried to back away from the reporter, but your progress was stopped when the back of your chair hit the wall. John moved to stand in front of you.

“Y/N Holmes, how long have you known that your brother Sherlock is alive?”

“No no, no, stop it, leave her alone!” It was one thing to interrogate him, but John wasn’t about to let this reporter anywhere near you, especially not now.

“Did you help him fake his suicide? Was Mycroft Holmes in on it? Did Sherlock murder Jim Moriarty?” The reporter was trying to move around John now, elbowing her way closer to you.

You were hyperventilating now, one hand wrapped around your knees while the other was grasping for John’s. John instantly moved to grab your hand, but he was beaten to it.

“Back away, unless you’d like to lose your job.” Mycroft Holmes put himself between you and the reporter, grasping your small hand in his and carefully pulling you to your feet. Sherlock was right behind him, holding your shaking frame up with an arm around your shoulder and guiding you toward the door, where John could see Mycroft’s car waiting outside.

“Mr. Homes! I just have a few-“

Neither Mycroft nor Sherlock even bothered to respond, they simply ushered you outside with John right on their heels.

…

Once safe and sound in his car, Mycroft finally turned his full attention to you, quickly analyzing your condition. Quick, shallow breathing, darting eyes, shaking like a leaf. It wasn’t good.

It also could’ve been worse, though. Your hand was gripping tightly to his, and your eyes seemed to finally be focusing on him.

“Mycroft…” he was relieved to hear you speak, it was a good sign. He let you fall into his arms, and when you did he pressed his hand to the side of your head and leaned you against his chest.

“Breathe when I breathe, alright?”

You followed his example perfectly, it was an exercise you were quite used to.

Mycroft noticed Sherlock staring at him, shock and discomfort distorting his features. Mycroft understood the look. If he had seen himself like this two years ago, he wouldn’t even recognize himself.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love his siblings, it was just that showing it had never been something he had been comfortable with.

Sherlock’s “death” had forced him to almost permanently vacate his comfort zone.

He was not a touchy-feely man, and he did not believe in babying you simply because you were his sister. But when you had fallen to pieces after Sherlock left you, Mycroft had quickly realized that if he didn’t change some of his ways, you might just never be able to pull yourself back together again.

“I’m sorry,” Mycroft came back to himself when he heard your soft voice. “I shouldn’t have-have left. I wasn’t thinking.”

Mycroft shook his head, “Don’t apologize. You were upset, I understand.” He pulled you away from him and brushed your short hair away from your face, “how are you feeling?”

Your small hands gripped onto his.

“Better now.”

…

Sherlock was relieved when Mycroft’s car pulled into his driveway. The small car felt even smaller when he was stuck watching you and Mycroft. Your bond was something he didn’t understand, and he wasn’t used to not understanding Mycroft.

When the car pulled to a stop, you seemed recovered enough to walk inside, Mycroft letting you hold onto his arm the whole way. When the two of you were gone, Sherlock turned to John.

“Thank you. For watching her, that was…good.”

John gave a weak smile.

“I care about her too. You take care of her, she’s a good kid.”

“I know.”

John turned to leave, but hesitated.

“She’ll forgive you soon enough. She loves you guys.”

Sherlock allowed a smile to cross his face.

“Thank you.”

Taglist:

@navs-bhat @chaoticglitterkitten

#Sherlock #bbc sherlock #big brother mycroft #mycroft holmes #mycroft x reader #mycroft bbc #sherlock and mycroft #sherlock reader insert #sherlockbbc #sherlock x sister reader #sherlock x reader #sherlock x y/n #sherlock fandom #sherlock bbc #mycroft x sister #john watson #dr john watson #bbc john watson #john watson x reader

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

WT #5: "It's Broken"

Summary: Spy AU. r/AITA post from a throwaway account asking if they're the asshole for accidentally torturing their best friend.

WC: 1363

Am I the asshole for torturing my best friend, despite him not knowing it was me? [UPDATED] + Poll

Throwaway account for obvious reasons. 

So I work for a… company with enemies. Lots of enemies. And my job is to make sure those who come prying, don’t get off easy when they get a little too nosey. Seven of these enemies come in the form of branded assassins, and they’ve been on our asses for a while. I won’t use their name as I don’t want any hate/harassment to go towards them, but If you didn’t know, they’re the UK’s legion of puppies - legal assassins and infiltrators who are conditioned to think they’re doing good, but truthfully they’re just nuisances. Like, really annoying. Why can’t we be chased by the French ones? They’d put up a much better fight…

Ugh. Anyway, the pups got in the way of several shipments that stopped the boys getting paid, they nearly got my brother arrested and they killed a dozen higher-ups - you wanna know how hard they are to replace? They do all this for clout and money; bigger enemies pay the small enemies to try and take us out, and for what? We’re a family business, for christ's sake! All we do is move shit around and own a few stores, what’s so threatening about that? Nothing I’ll say! I’m just trying to put food on the table and these assholes are trying to stop that. Not all of us belong to institutions who feed us cucumber sandwiches and lobster at the drop of a hat. 

He’s probably there right now, swaddled in a private hospital with a team of doctors putting him back together. 

I’m not looking for sympathy, but I guess I hate them so much because one of them killed my dad. I was a wreck! 

So yeah, I fucking hate them. They took everything and continue to take - my brother had to step in and take over dads role and it hasn’t been easy for him! For any of us! And those bastards got away with a pat on the back and a warm bed while we had to relocate a warehouse for the millionth time. My dad was just sitting in his office holding his gun as he usually does - so what if it happened to be pointing in the direction of the pup? Those  guys are so insecure they see anything as a threat. ‘Shoot on sight’. Hah. That mentality will get them killed if they weren’t so damn hard to catch. 

But imagine the satisfaction when we finally managed to get our hands on one - a live one. The small one with the blonde hair, is probably about 5 '5 and built like a stick insect. (I’m practically six foot, well-built and can bench about 200lbs) 

They’d gotten sloppy - too egotistical. Their mums had probably told them they’re the best in the world and they ran with it. We cornered the rat in one of our warehouses, and he relented when he realized he wasn’t enough to beat over a dozen armed men when all he had on him was knives. What, is he just old enough to graduate from safety scissors? No guns? Fucking amateur. 

He didn’t go down without a fight, and it was quite a show, too. Bastard managed to nick my arm, but my brother managed to crack the back of his head with a pipe and he was out cold… Well, we assumed so anyway because of those damn masks -  If you hadn’t been living under a rock, then you’d know the pups have these masks practically glued to their face. They all have their own ‘looks’, the blonde one’s is molded into a frown with those soulless, black eyes. The reason we didn’t take it off there and then is because… well, last time someone did, everyone in the room went missing, and I don’t know about you guys but I’m quite comfortable here. We play a very dangerous game - luckily I’m always one step ahead. 

I’ve had six years to think about this - to wonder what It would be like to get one of them. My brother called me crazy, but I could hardly wait as they took his headpiece and tracker from his uniform. Look, I know it wasn’t the short one that killed my dad but he was close enough, but who wouldn't want to enact revenge on the closest thing to their fathers killer? Granted it wasn’t the short one that killed my dad, but it was close enough to send a message and I only had forty minutes before the fanfare arrived. So that gave me about thirty minutes to do whatever I wanted… 

I wasted no time in getting my hands dirty. Just seeing his stupid mask made me feel all kinds of stuff, but mostly rage at what one of his teammates had done to my life. I saw red. 

So I cut every limb deep enough to see bone. I broke several fingers, his leg, and carved him a new six pack after I’d rearranged his ribs. I ripped his clothes enough to see the pale flesh they hide beneath layers of tactical gear. I took his gloves so I could at least have a trophy - a reminder of the time I beat up a ‘Sin. 

I almost feel guilty for loving it, but I hated how he made no noise. He was conscious, I knew this because of the heavy breathing but he didn’t say a single word. Not one. Not even a whimper.

So I hit harder. And I kept on hitting until my knuckles bled because the smug bastard didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve to be silent, but I’m also not sure he deserved the beating. I know, what a plot twist. 

I guess I should explain the title now, because how do I know I just tortured my best friend? Well. I think I did. Because only one person I know has a very specific scar between his pointer and thumb - right in the fleshy part. It stretches across his palm as well as down the back of his hand towards the wrist. It’s barely visible now, but I’ve known him for years, so even beneath all the blood I can still trace the faint line. I’m so used to seeing his hands and the scar… and that mop of blond hair that I know it had to be him. He’s also the only person I know that bites his nails down to the cuticles. 

I saw the scar when I raised the bar I was using above his hand - he’d been strapped to a chair, with his arms tied to the armrests. His fingers were broken for sure, but at the time I wasn’t done… the irrational anger I had had blinded me, but the sight of the scar swung me back to my senses. I paused for a solid minute, the pipe I was using poised above his hand. 

“It’s broken.” He finally rasped. 

And I stopped. 

I stopped. Like, I physically recoiled because despite the fact that he was hiding behind that stupid mask he actually spoke. I could put a voice to a body and for some reason I felt so sick I nearly threw up because it was so unmistakably him. 

So I dragged his body back to the spot and left him. I had time to spare but I couldn’t face it. If it was him, then he must have known it was me. I mean, I was wearing a pretty good disguise - a hoodie, sunglasses and bandanna - but I’m worried y’know, I don’t want this to affect our friendship going forward. 

I’m sitting in my car typing this and wondering AITA for torturing him? Because it was just to teach him a lesson but on the other hand… he’s my best friend and I genuinely didn't know? Like, I stopped right away! On the other hand, he is part of something that actively ruins the family business so I don't know. 

UPDATE: He does know it was me. 

I think we’re still friends.

#whumptober2023 #whumptober #whump #surro writes: lethal combination #angst #ideas #torture #aita #am i the asshole #injury #polls

[princess-pathetic-112898]

I finally watched Nimona and, yeah, fuck, it made me feel things. And because this is how my brain works I immediately started thinking of all the similarities & parallels to The Owl House and how the characters would interact with each other. Here’s what my genius mind has cooked up so far:

• Nimona hasn’t interacted with peers since Gloreth so being thrust into a friend group takes some warming up to (yeah she’s actually like a thousand years old but c’mon she’s a teenager in every way that matters). The Hexsquad is patient, but they’re also persistent, with each finding their own way to bond with her over time. Luz bonds with her over drawing & soon they’re writing graphic novels together (I’m very clever). Willow sets her up with a pizza garden (seeds & plants for tomato, onion, garlic, mushrooms, basil, peppers, oregano, and OLIVES- rip Ambrosius). Gus & Nim come up with a game where she transforms into anything or anyone she wants and Gus tries to use his illusions to copy her. Amity tells Nim all about the Bonesborough Brawl and the two of them train together for the rest of the year to enter the next competition. Hunter introduces her to all the Palismen of the forest, who accept her instantly when she transforms to play with them. She can talk to Vee about what it’s like to be a shapeshifter, and how it felt to think they’d never be accepted most of their lives and then suddenly find themselves with a loving family. Nim & King Go Goblin Mode Every. Damn. Day.

• At first, Ballister is incredibly nervous about her spending time alone with these strange children. After all, he’s the first person she’s been able to trust in a thousand years, so her social skills are a little rusty, and he doesn’t know these damn kids so how can he know they’re really his baby’s friends??? Goblin Mode may be activated, but so is Protective Dad Mode. Of course, they win him over when he sees how happy Nimona is with them and how genuinely kind & welcoming they are.

• Nimona & the Clawthorne Kids become a team of awesome chaos. Rules are made to be broken. Property will be damaged. Bread puns will be made. Eda likes to joke that one day she’ll snatch the kid up & make her an official Clawthorne. Ballister promises that if she ever tries it she’ll lose the other arm.

• Speaking of which, whenever Bal’s prosthetic arm comes off, Eda tosses off the hook as fast as she can, Naruto runs at him, and bumps her arm stub up against his, declaring that they alone have paid “the true price of love”. Ambrosius doesn’t think it’s very funny, but Raine does.

• Ballister, Ambrosius, Lilith & Hunter have all gotten together to form a “So You Were Brainwashed Into Dedicating Yourself To A Crooked System” support group.

So yeah, this is where my mental state is at. Feel free to add onto my madness.

#fan post #crossover #crossover idea #the owl house #nimona #headcanons #character interaction

[storiesofsvu]

happy thursday hoes. time for some law and some order

Well fuck…what an opening..

“but there are definitely still traces of blood” girl… that hammer is COATED wtf…

I would like to point out that the way Kate runs her squad is the legit way that squads run. The CO (whether it be captain, lieutenant or sarge) is gonna stay in the office, they’re piled up with paperwork, the brass, putting out fires, they’re not out in the field…. Like svu. Ugh. I’m already not prepared for svu tonight, I’ve been watching through velasco’s eps and his older seasons were so good, esp compared to this year…

So we’re really doing this Ukraine surrogate/adoption plot line again, hey?

(I mean it is slightly different so far but like, it’s the same idea, right lol)

Samantha crushing it in the wardrobe dept as per usual

I like this new DA so much more than mccoy. Sorry not sorry.

I haven’t been paying too much attention to what’s going on (surprise) BUT, wtf does this case have to do with the grand jury that was taking place at the beg of the ep? With the girl all “he doesn’t know I’m here, right?” like, that girl was the murder vic? Or am I on crack? What is the connection?!

Uugggh… saaaammm my baby just needs a HUUUGGG

Okay, im actively not watching Toronto, see ya in an hour for svu.

Starting off with some personal, at home comfort. This is what we’ve been asking for forever (now give us rollisi at home pls).

OHHH GOD WHY ARE WE ALREADY BACK TO THE MADDIE SHIT FFS.

“I googled you”

Oh booooyyy are we in for it now. HOW MUCH DOES NOAH KNOW?! CAUSE LORD KNOWS HE PROBABLY FELL DOWN A PIT OF NEWS ARTICLES.

NO

WHY

WE DO NOT NEED TO BRING WL BACK TO THIS SHIT LET US HAVE SOME PEACE PLS.

Okay so we finally did get noah discovering where he came from. Woof.

Olivia kinda sucks at parenting sometimes. Like… he’s a kid, he’s an *adopted* kid who already knows about gramma Sheila and ellie… he’s gonna be curious, he’s gonna wonder, also what kid HASN’T snooped through their parents private things? Like yeah it’s not ideal… it’d be best for him to ask you a question and you slowly reveal into things or whatever but we all know she just would’ve shut him down right away anyways.

Lowkey love those heart lights in noahs room, ngl.

I’m not gonna lie. If it was olivia I’d be more concerned about him knowing/reading about William lewis and all the shit that went down than finding out johnny d was his dad…

You know what I think? I think this would be a great time to call you bestie amanda and have her over for a bottle of wine while you talk this through and see what jessie knows about her dad/how amanda’s gonna approach that. Also like, does billie just think sonny’s her dad or does she know? LOL. But will that happen? Obviously not.

Okay you know what, carisi is the second best bet so I’ll take this.

Olivia really needs to catch a fucking break

Carisi you sit like a whore. But we already knew that.

Is there not a way to trace this call? Or like, I know the phone is about to die but like…find my iphone even works on dead phones…use the stepmoms phone rn to find out where she is. Easy fix. Use your brains.

Man… parents on these shows are always so fucking trusting of their kids and they think they know everything about them. Like...what world are we living in?

Awweeee lil carisi back in cop mode!

Girl… you barely looked in that one, that’s not clear

Me: where do I know this actor playing the step mom from?

Checks imbd: ah. She’s been on svu as a diff character before. Of course.

We love a good parent who immediately offers up all their money to pay ransom of their kids bff with no question.

I swear to god it wasn’t raining 5 seconds ago.. I get that these are likely filmed on diff days but that really came outta nowhere

Olivia’s drenched and velasco’s barely wet… wtf lol

Oh god she’s really about to go feral isn’t she?  Like, even velasco’s nervous af.

That’s exactly what I knew he was gonna say. Like, liv should’ve just said she was dead.

Okay what about the other three perps? Where are they?

JESUS FUCK. Velasco… be mean to me. yell at me.. degrade me. jfc.

Okay I love that when she told Velasco to put the perp in her car he was all “uh… that a good idea boss?” kinda unsure thing but as soon as she started going feral he was just all “yup. Okay. I know how to do this.” And was totally on board. That’s my boi

“youre lucky im not in IAB anymore” damn right bitch.

That’s a cozy ass looking sweater liv has on and I want it

He already knows about ellie…why are we starting there?

I can’t wait until this conversation sparks a “hey… can we go see grama Sheila? Is she still sick?” and liv THEN has to explain that gramma Sheila is in fact in JAIL because she kidnapped him

Okay… that episode was honestly really good. It was a nice balance of the at home/personal lives and the case.

OC time.

Pls god have a last time on cause I do not remember what was happening… baby bro joe was doing heroine? That’s all I remember

Is this his apartment or elliots apt? it looks similar but also I like it better lol.

Bernie is a blessing to this show.

Elliot all “an intervention?” as if they didn’t host one for him like two years ago?

Also I JUST watched the ep with Muncy’s brother this week and that actor is baby boy joe stabler so this is throwing me off.

Is this an apt or a hotel? CAUSE ITS GORGEOUS!! HOW TF ARE THESE STABLER MEN AFFORDING THIS SHIT IN NYC?!

 “we don’t do that…” jet. Another fucking legend on this show

SO glad Bell’s back.

Clearly im not paying attention to this ep in case anyone’s wondering (and yes, it is because it’s a stabler ep…)

Leave it to stabler to be there less than 5 mins before beating someone

OH MY GODDDDD BELL LOOKS SO FUCKING GOOD IN THAT BLUE SHIRT

Thank god bell had bobby with her cause homegirl had a cane last week, there’d be no way she should be on a foot chase rn. Lol

Omg jet and bobby UC yet AGAIN. I fucking love it.

Jet being absolutely the person that likely annoys the hell outta her, love that. 

#law and order svu #svu #law and order #law and order special victims unit #law and order spoilers #spoilers #svu spoilers #law and order organized crime

[dandylovesturtles]

For the writer ask!

I’m intrigued by all of these but especially the podcast and the class of 2024 ones because they have the least amount of context clues, I would love some elaboration!

Class of 2024 is a one shot I intend to finish... sometime lol, when I have more time to get back to it. Here's a bit:

“If the damn Krang hadn’t invaded, I’d have been graduating in a few weeks.”

“Oh.” Donnie’s typing finally pauses, and he looks at her. Gives her his attention, and she loves him for it even while the practical part of her wants him to get back to whatever surely critical thing he was just working on. “I guess you would be. Assuming you graduated on time and didn’t have to repeat anything.”

She elbows him in the side, and even though she knows it doesn’t hurt him he jerks back. “I would have graduated on time, Dee.”

“I’m only covering our bases! We can’t know the counterfactual, after all.” She elbows him again.

“Donatello Hamato, you are the worst,” she tells him with all the fondness in the world.

His lips quirk up in a barely there smile. One of his battleshell arms extends and resumes typing, but he hasn’t looked back at it himself so she knows his main focus is still on her.

“Would you have gone to graduation?”

“Hm, probably. I mean, I don’t really care, but Mom-” She’d been about to say that her mom wants to go, present tense, and she just manages to stop herself. It’s crazy that it’s been two years, and still sometimes…

“...Mom would have thrown a fit if I skipped it,” she finally says, past tense, and she catches the way Donnie’s eyes cloud because he knows. God does he know.

They’re both orphans. She pushes the thought aside before she can let it erode all her carefully crafted walls.

“As would the rest of us,” says Donnie now, moving them straight past dangerous territory, and much as she hates that he dodges talking about emotions she appreciates it right now. It’s too damn late - or too early - for that. “You know how much fun we had sneaking into your high school graduation, surely you wouldn’t deny us the chance of a repeat.”

“Only if you promised not to bring the air horns.”

“I can’t promise that.”

“Then consider your chance denied.”

As for the Podcast Sep AU, that's an idea that has grown out of this post I wrote awhile back, except I basically just kept "the boys meet online" and changed everything else about it haha. In this version, April and Donnie have a true crime podcast that theorizes about the mysterious disappearance of Lou Jitsu, and the other three listen to it regularly, and then miscellaneous things happen along the way. It's a bit more angsty and less of a comedy than my original idea because I am myself, though it's still largely intended to be lighthearted as far as separated AUs go.

uh I'll just put some of the notes I posted on discord under the cut:

LEO

Leo calls Hypno Papa or Pop and calls Warren Dad, unless he's being a brat then he calls him Warren (this happens daily tbh)

they lived for awhile off money they each individually had saved up (also maybe Hypno's ratty apartment is Rent Controlled) but eventually they had to start having an active revenue stream so they started stealing

Leo loves stage magic OBVI but he's especially good at sleight of hand tricks and close up magic

so he starts using those skills to pickpocket

his dads don't really like him doing this (mostly out of concern for his safety rather than ethics) but they also can't really stop him unless they confine him to the house and they don't really want to do that so v(._.)v BOYS WILL BE BOYS IG

he gives them most of the money but he keeps some for himself for comics or other random things he wants

when Leo was still pretty little Hypno watched some Lou Jitsu movies out of curiosity, he knew who Lou Jitsu was but had never really watched the movies himself

he likes them alright but they aren't really his thing

but Leo came in and was immediately enthralled by it and became a big fan

Hypno knows LJ is Leo's human "dad" but decides not to tell him because he thinks it will just make Leo sad that he got left behind, also Hypno and Warren aren't even sure if LJ and the other three turtles survived

anyway this is what starts Leo on being an LJ fan and why he eventually finds Donnie and April's podcast

MIKEY

Mikey calls Repo "Boss" pretty much all the time, and Repo mostly calls him kid, occasionally he'll call him Mike

Repo taught Mikey how to read and do basic math growing up but that's pretty much it

so Mikey learns a lot of things from the internet and A LOT OF IT IS NOT CORRECT this will drive Donnie crazy later

Mikey learned about Lou Jitsu from stumbling across some old dvds someone threw out and got interested that way

he spends a lot of his time making art in the junkyard when he's not working for Repo

Dr. Delicate Touch still comes out when he is helping Repo

Repo doesn't get mutated until the time he does in canon but when he does get mutated he's just kinda like "shrug" and moves on with life lol

Mikey thinks it's cool though

also Mikey is a little greasy gremlin child 100% of the time, this will also drive Donnie crazy later

DONNIE

initially I thought April's dad would be out of the picture for whatever reason but I decided he's still here he just works overseas/out of town a lot

when April brought Donnie to Mama O'Neil she called Papa O'Neil like "hey I found a baby and I'm keeping him"

Papa was like ????? so she took a pic with a digital camera and uploaded it and sent it to him because that's what we did in 2005

Papa like that is a wholeass frog

she explained the situation and he was like OKAY GUESS WE HAVE A GREEN SON NOW he was chill with it though

they committed light identity fraud so technically Donnie has a birth certificate and is enrolled in online school

Donnie still invents but he doesn't have the space for it like in canon and also Mama will come after him if he sets anything on fire or explodes anything so a lot of his stuff is smaller atm, but he's been scoping out places he can use as a lab in secret for bigger projects recently

he's also a twitch streamer who uses a video filter over video of his own face to make his movements look more stiff and plasticy and he passes himself off as a vtuber this way

he cheats a lot

April also streams and she gets annoyed by this lol

they both became fans of Lou Jitsu when they were younger and they often traded conspiracy theories about what happened to him

then after binging one or two true crime podcasts they were like HEY WE CAN DO THAT TOO

RAPH

Splinter really is trying his best ok

he's SUPER DEPRESSED that he lost the other kids, especially Donnie and Mikey because like Leo getting lost in the lab explosion is one thing, realistically he can't really help that, but he left the kids alone when he lost Donnie and Mikey and that haunts him forever

he told Raph he was the only one who survived the lab explosion but Raph has very very vague memories of not being alone, then suddenly being alone

he doesn't push it with Splinter but he just has a feeling his siblings are out there

even if he doesn't remember it, this had a bad effect on him and he has a hard time being alone now

of course as Raph's gotten old enough to take care of himself, Splinter has become more distant/more depressed, he loves Raph of course but he's also going through it

Raph trains himself a lot with this idea that he's going to go out and be a hero and maybe even find his brothers, but his anxiety makes it hard for him to actually leave the lair for more than to get groceries or things like that

also Splinter and Raph's lair is like way more dilapidated and not very cozy with no Donnie to help with the mechanical side of things

it's like the most bummer bachelor pad ever in here, they have a mini fridge and it's full of sauces

Raph occasionally gets seen by maintenance workers from a distance so there's all kinds of rumors about him and he's the local cryptid, not that he realizes this (the others will be excited when they put this together)

Raph is just really lonely all the time and when he meets the others through the podcast it's the first time he finds community ;w;

#writer ask game #I'm not making up fic tags for these yet either lol #mainly because I don't know for sure what to call them

[iam93percentstardust]

Electric Touch

I finally wrote something for @lightsonparkave! Written for this prompt, you can find this fic on ao3 here (and a brief preview below)

~

Breakups are hard enough on their own, but they’re even worse when your best friend won’t let you cope in your preferred way.

“Bucky, I don’t want a vacation,” Steve says, trying to sound patient and not like he’s growling.

Bucky nods like he understands, which he clearly doesn’t or they wouldn’t still be having this conversation two months after he first brought it up. “I know you keep saying that, and I hear ya, I really do. But I think you’re not hearing me, pal. I’m not saying you want a vacation, I’m saying you need one.”

Steve loses the battle with his growl. “Bucky—”

“Steve. Listen to me. When’s the last time you went out on a Friday night? Forget going to the bar or anywhere you might meet someone—when’s the last time you went to the movies? Or out to Coney Island? For that matter, when’s the last time you left this office? I know you’ve got a bed in that private office back there, and Natasha tells me you’re still here when she leaves every night and here when she gets here in the morning. Steve, she’s one of the first people in the office, so what are you doing getting here so early? Are you sleeping in there? That’s it exactly, isn’t it? You’re sleeping inside your office, and that’s just another whole level of sad.”

“I’m not sleeping in my office,” Steve snarls, but he is and Bucky absolutely knows it going by his judgmental scowl.

“Really? So if I went downstairs and pulled the security logs…”

“Fine! So I’m sleeping here. Who cares?”

“I care, Steve. It’s been six months since Peggy left, and you’re a fucking wreck!”

“Star Designs has had its most successful quarter since—”

“I don’t give a fuck about the company. I care about you. You might have the board fooled with your expensive suits and fancy hair, but I see right past that to the kid from Brooklyn, and I’m telling you, you’re floundering. What’s going on?”

“What do you think?” Steve snaps, dropping heavily into the ergonomic chair behind his desk. He doesn’t drop his head into his hands but that’s only because that seems a little too melodramatic. He’s the CEO and founder of the biggest advertisement and marketing company in the country. He is not a high schooler experiencing their first breakup on prom night.

“She hasn’t been by to pick her stuff up yet,” he says quieter. And I can’t bear to go back home and see her sheet music and clothes and programs from her concerts, he doesn’t add.

Bucky blinks at him. “So?”

“What do you mean so?”

“So text her, tell her she’s got another week to pick up her shit, and then hire a moving company, but stop letting her push you out of your own goddamn apartment.”

“I can’t do that! Most of those are from her shows. They mean something to her.”

“Well, they can’t mean that much if she’s left them there for the last six months,” Bucky points out reasonably. But the idea of just throwing them out makes him want to shudder. His dad used to throw his mom’s things out every time she did something he didn’t like. Eventually she stopped doing them, but by that point, she wasn’t really Steve’s mom anymore, just an empty husk.

Maybe Bucky remembers that because his face softens just a touch. “Look, take the week off. Take the vacation that Natasha booked for you. I’ll handle getting Peggy’s things out of the apartment, and when you come back, promise me you’ll stop sleeping in your office. You’re thirty-two years old Steve. Stop acting like you’re ninety.”

Steve sighs. He still doesn’t want to, but maybe Bucky is right. Maybe he’s been pushing everyone—and himself especially—too hard so that he doesn’t have to think about Peggy. It’s been hard enough trying to get used to sleeping alone again, but maybe he should stop trying in his cold office and get used to the warm sunlight on his face waking him up in the morning in his east-facing apartment instead of his alarm in his windowless private office.

“Fine,” he agrees.

“Yes!” Bucky exclaims, pumping his fist in the air. He’s not even a little bit subtle about it, and Steve can’t help the chuckle that escapes him.

“But only for a week,” Steve adds.

#alle writes #stevetony #lightsonparkave

[aww-canon-no]

Let The Children Boogie

Hello.  I’m posting my WIP chapters on here from my Ao3.  Sorry to dash flood.

Let The Children Boogie

Prologue/?

Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Side ship- Robin/Nancy

Future fic, post canon, fix it everyone (almost) lives, trauma recovery, HoH Eddie, Steve Harrington’s bisexual awakening

on Ao3

Summary: 

A first apartment: Six people, four bedrooms, 533 miles from where the world tried to end.

And they're ready for the rest of what life is supposed to be.

*** 

It starts with a wad of cash, a key…

And a question. There’s a guy mowing a lawn about ten feet away so Eddie has to squint and read Steve’s lips when he asks:

“How would you feel about getting the fuck out of Hawkins?”

Eddie stares at Steve—at his perfect hair and his smile that’s a little more crooked than it used to be, and the dumbass polo shirt that looks so right and so wrong all at the same time. He looks like listens to Donnie and Marie—and honestly Eddie wouldn’t be surprised if he dug around Steve’s room and found a few old albums.

He thinks about the question and then he laughs.

“It’s all I’ve ever wanted. Why are you here tormenting me?”

Eddie’s dreamt of getting the hell out long before he was the serial killing freak who was exonerated, but everyone still kind of hates even though they know all about the curse, and the monsters, and…everything.

Eddie’s wanted to escape since he was twelve and his dad beat the absolute fuck—and hearing—out of him after finding a magazine under his bed that didn’t have naked girls inside. No. It had…others.

And Eddie had no excuses.

He was knocked unconscious and woke up in the hospital with bleeding ears and a doctor writing him a note saying that he was going to live with his uncle and his hearing would return in a few weeks, after the swelling went down. He’d stop being so dizzy all the time, the doctor assured him.

It didn’t happen that way at all, and that was the first time Eddie realized curses were real.

He got by. He made do. He sucked at lipreading so he just let everyone believe he was a useless loser kid who didn’t want to pay attention. He scraped by on pity Cs until high school when his teachers suddenly all decided they wanted to make an example out of him.

Two years and a bunch of murders and he was finally—finally—done.

He was pretty sure that last D was also pity, but at least for that one, he was able to say he helped saved the world.

“Where are we going?” Eddie asks when Steve doesn’t answer his first question, because yeah, it’s a dumbass one. Steve isn’t there to torture him. Steve is the one who holds him together on nights Eddie’s a billion percent sure he’s about to fall apart.

“I got us an apartment in Atlanta,” Steve says, leaning in close. He’s never asked Eddie if he’s deaf but he’s pretty sure Steve figured it out a long time ago.

For a moment, Eddie thinks maybe some cosmic asshole’s playing a trick on him. Steve wants to live with him?

The freak? The weirdo? The mess?

Steve looks like he hasn’t been sleeping well, though. None of them really look okay. It’s been four years and Eddie’s working part time down at Matt’s garage and it’s… not really working out. He has a permanent tremble in his left hand that makes it hard to tighten bolts and shit, and he jumps at every sudden movement.

The kids have all graduated now. Erica’s running Hellfire, and Corroded Coffin broke up when everyone else’s parents moved them across the country and away from Hawkins. Not that Eddie blames them.

He just…misses them.

He swallows heavily. “Steve.” It’s more like a plea than a question.

Steve takes one step higher onto the trailer porch and meet his gaze. “Please don’t make me do this alone.”

As though Eddie has ever—will ever—tell him no.

***

The first time Eddie puts his key into the lock and turns it, he can’t hear it. It’s too faint. But he feels it through his fingertips, a sort of rushing vibration that pools around his elbow and makes his fingers all jumpy. He opens the door and he’s met with the sight of Dustin passed out on a shitty, black vinyl bean bag and Steve unpacking kitchen boxes because of course he’s in the kitchen.

Nancy’s hanging ferns by the window and Eddie’s pretty sure they’re not fake. Robin’s trying to tackle a bookshelf that’s disassembled and looks like it’s partly made out of LEGO.

Max is in the far corner with her back propped up against the wall, headphones on, a fat binder-looking thing on her lap. Eddie knows it. It’s braille. She took her lot in life like a goddamn champ. Better than Eddie ever did.

Steve looks up at him and smiles and jerks his head to the side like he’s beckoning him over. Eddie’s forgotten that he’s holding bags full of sandwiches from a deli down the street, and he tosses them on the counter before walking to the boom box with two tape decks and a CD player that Steve’s parents were going to throw away when they were packing up their house.

They don’t actually have any CDs, but Eddie’s got enough tapes to last them a lifetime.

There’s tiny specks of puffy paint on some of the controls which Eddie knows is Robin’s doing. It lets Max use the thing without having to ask for help.

He feels a weird pulse in the center of his chest as he glances around at the piles and piles of unpacked boxes, then down the hall to the four bedrooms that are waiting to be claimed.

He rummages around and finds Fleetwood Mac, jams the tape in, then turns the volume all the way down before he hits play. He catches Steve’s eye as he surreptitiously puts his fingers over the speaker, then begins to turn the knob up until Steve nods.

Pressing his hand to the counter, he feels the beat in his fingers. It’s not as powerful as he wants it to be, but it’s enough for that moment.

“What’s next?” he asks.

Steve shrugs, then walks around the counter and snags him by the belt loop and tugs until they’re tumbling down the hall and into the furthest bedroom. The largest one. There’s a full sized bed in one corner and a futon in the other, and the dresser Steve took from his parents’ place.

“Robin and Nancy said we can have it,” Steve tells him near his right ear which is the one that has the most hearing. It’s not a lot. It kind of reminds him of listening underwater in the community pool when he was a kid. But it’s something, especially when Steve is standing close and the place is just…

Quiet.

Eddie looks around. Like, properly looks around. Above the bed is Steve’s bat hanging on a bunch of nails.

Below that is an oar.

He’s laughing before he can stop himself, and Steve tackles him to the bed. “Shut the fuck up!”

But he can’t. He physically can’t. He realizes he’s far away from everything that ever made him miserable with the only people that ever really made him happy apart from Gareth, Jeff, and Trey who are…you know. Long gone.

His grin hurts his face as he rolls onto his side, kicking Steve off him but not letting him get far. “Does that shit mean you got dibs on the bed?”

Steve shrugs and props up on his elbow, staring at Eddie for so long, it starts to make him feel all squirmy inside. Steve opens his mouth, then closes it again.

Eddie doesn’t know if he’s saying something and he absently tugs on his ear. Steve reaches for him and pulls his hand away. “There’s room for your guitar.”

It’s a new one. The one he saved the world with—his baby—is long-gone. It got swallowed up when shit hit the town, and a lot of things came back when they sealed the upside down for good…but not that.

Everyone—his own little personal band of freaks—saved up and got him a replica three Christmases ago. Every time he looks at it, his heart beats a little faster. It’s currently sitting in his car, cradled between several blankets in the back seat.

“I’m gonna need a job,” he says, well aware he and Steve are both avoiding each other’s questions and statements.

Steve sighs. “Yeah. We’re all gonna need jobs.”

Eddie flops onto his back and covers his face with one hand. The other one lies between them and it’s not long before Steve takes it. Eddie has never known how to tell Steve how much he appreciates being touched because he spent so damn many years with people avoiding contact with him.

And it wasn’t like he was shy about what he needed. He was always throwing his arms around people and bashing his body into them and they just laughed and pushed him off and gave him space. Like he’d asked for it or something.

But Steve has never…not really. Not since the very beginning.

His palm is warm against Eddie’s, and Steve grips him not too tight, not too loose, and he doesn't flinch when Eddie’s fingers begin to tremble.

“I don’t want to work on cars anymore.” He hasn’t heard his voice properly since he was a kid, but it feels kind of thick in the back of his throat with emotion he doesn’t really want to think about.

“This is our beginning, Munson,” Steve tells him. He moves his thumb so it’s pressing to the inside of Eddie’s wrist, and he pushes. Hard. It makes his fingers twitch for a whole different reason than injury and trauma. “We can do whatever we want.”

Eddie breathes out and lets Steve go so he can stretch his arms all the way above his head. He lays the tips of all five fingers against the wall and pretends like he can push his way through it. “I can’t hear shit.”

“I know.”

Eddie turns his head to look at him. “I want to be a musician.”

Steve smiles. “I know.”

He can’t make money doing that, but maybe he can…do something with it? He hasn’t explored the city yet, but it’s bigger than Hawkins with just…so much. There’s so much more outside the walls of their little apartment. Maybe there's room for him and his shitty, strange little dreams somewhere.

“This is our beginning,” Steve repeats.

Eddie hums and drops his arms and lets himself just feel the sensation of Steve lying close.

#Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #HoH Eddie Munson #steve x eddie #Steddie #Steddie Fic #WIP #blind max mayfield

[justsome-di]

Nobody Ends Up Dead in a Bathtub, Everyone Keeps Their Organs: Chapter 21

Summary: Alex is an ordinary, highly-introverted office worker. He clocks in and out and goes home to his little apartment he shares with his younger sister. He hasn’t dated in years by the time his co-workers set him up on a blind date.

The only issue is he and his date are not on the same page. At all.

While Alex thinks it’s a normal date, Damián is under the impression Alex is a client who paid to be there. No-so-quickly, they realize something is up. It’s all a prank. Damián is a sex worker Alex’s co-workers hired as a sick joke.

After reassuring that they’re both okay, Alex decides he wants revenge for both him and Damián. The plan is to use the stigma of sex work and start a 6-week, scandalous fake dating scheme with a big finale at the office Halloween party. Alex’s co-workers will be too horrified to try to prank him again. At least, that’s the plan.

You can also read this on AO3. If you don’t want to wait for new chapters, the complete story is on Patreon for only $4 with bonus stories! If you’re enjoying the story and want to support me in other ways, consider dropping me a message in my inbox or reblogging this post!

Leo knew how his parents liked him to dress. He wore the clothes his mother had bought him for Christmas a few years ago, though his shoulders had grown almost a little too broad for the top, and he had become a little too tall for the jeans.

He walked into a swanky bistro and towards the tiny table his parents were already seated at.  

His mother hugged him, awkwardly and one-sided. He smelled her perfume—the same perfume she had been wearing for as long as he was alive. Her thin arms didn’t provide any warmth or comfort. The bones of her wrists dug into his back.

His father just looked at him closely with a tight smile. Leo didn’t know what he was looking for, but he hoped he wouldn’t find it.

“How’ve you been?” His mother asked. “How are your classes?”

“Classes are fine,” he said.

“Doing well in them?”

“Uh. Yeah. I’m on track to finish Magma Cum Laude.”

His mother laid her hand on her chest, over her black sweater. Fabricated pride welled up in her smile. Her eyes were blank.

“Good. Good,” his father said.

He rubbed his hands between his knees. His fingers were cold. Damián told him that if he exercised more routinely, he would have better circulation and wouldn’t be so cold in the middle of the day. But Damián exercised all the time, and he still shivered at the beginning of the fall. So, Leo didn’t quite believe him.

Silence settled over the table. Leo hadn’t kept up with whatever his parents were doing. A part of him told himself he was a terrible child. They raised him. He should have at least checked their Facebook pages. Another part reminded him that his parents didn’t deserve it. At the moment, the first part was dominating.

A waiter took their orders, smiling like he didn’t recognize the tension.

“So, are you still retiring next year?” Leo asked his father.

His father nodded. “May.”

“Oh. That’ll be nice. Do you have anything planned?”

His mother waved her hands. “His plans are to sit at home and watch birds. I asked him to take me on a vacation, but he said we’d just have to wait and see.”

“Aw, dad. Take her on a vacation.”

“I didn’t say we couldn’t go,” his father said. “I just said we’d have to see how things are going.”

“What kinds of things?”

Leo’s mother stared through him for a moment and then looked down at her hands on the table. Her wedding band, a dull gold, looked almost too big on her spindly finger. Her engagement ring still sat fine below it.

She had had another ring when Leo was growing up. There were two stones that sat side-by-side. A diamond for Damián, the spring child. And a garnet for Leo, the winter child. He had had the vaguest of memories of Damián tracing the stones with his finger when he was still young, pressing down on each cut and looping his finger around the gold band.

On the rare occasions she took it off and left it at home, Damián would slip it onto his pinky finger. Leo would watch how it caught the light as Damián held up his hand to admire it.

She wore it every day until everything happened with Damián. Leo never knew what she did with it, and he never asked.

“Have you heard back from any more schools?” his mother asked.

“Not yet,” Leo said.

“Where are you applying?”

“Almost everywhere I can afford.” Everywhere Damián could afford. “Mostly in-state schools, but I’ve sent some applications out-of-state.”

It would be best to tell them now rather than drop it on them later in case they thought he was running away. But his mother looked interested, genuinely. Her eyebrows rose, and she tilted her head in the same way Damián did when he was listening to someone.

“That’s good to hear. It’ll be good for you if you get a chance to get out of New York. You’ve been stuck here your whole life. We actually wanted to make a deal with you.” His mother looked at his father. She folded her napkin, pressing her fingers along the crease. “Why don’t you tell him?”

His father folded his hands on the table. They were always so large. Leo had held them when he was little, and he could distinctly remember how his hand felt between the thick fingers and palm. His wedding band shone in the bright, harsh lighting of the bistro.

“We talked about it, and we wanted to offer to pay for your graduate school,” he said.

Leo’s face paled. He was breathless. That was thousands of dollars. Thousands that he knew his parents had but had kept from him during his undergrad. It was good to take out criminally high-interest loans, they had told him. It built character. It was definitely punishment after he boldly announced he was going to live with Damián.

“Seriously?” he asked.

“You worked hard in college,” his father said. There weren’t many ways he would have known that. His conversations with his father had been no more than three sentences long over the past four years. They were settling into the traditional distance of father and son. “We want to help you.”

“Um. Thanks. That’s a really big—that’s a lot. Thank you.”

“But we’ll only do it on one condition.”

And just like that, Leo knew the offer was too good to be true. His father’s mouth was pressed into a hard frown. His mother was looking away.

Leo’s stomach twisted. He should have known there was a catch.

The waiter came back with a tray full of plates. He laid Leo’s Nutella and banana crepes in front of him and smiled at his gray face.

“We don’t want you living with Damián anymore,” his father said.

“That’s not fair—“

“He’s not a good influence on you.”

“How would you know?”

“He can’t be a good influence on anyone.”

His mother was using her napkin to dab her eyes. Mascara ran off onto the white fabric. Leo hoped it wouldn’t stain for the sake of the poor worker who would have to wash it.

“It’s just an offer,” his father said. “If you move out after you finish the school year, we’ll help you pay for graduate school. We’ll even help you pay for a new place.”

It was almost impossible to live by oneself in New York. Especially as a student. Damián only managed after scoring multiple, returning, high-cost clients after years of work. Even then, he worked almost every night. Leo didn’t know, practically, how he could be expected to move out and find a place if he did end up staying in the city.

He was most offended, though, at being asked to leave his brother. Damián was selfless and kind and had done so much more for him than their parents had ever done.

“I want you out of there,” his mother said, her voice catching in her throat. Her brows were pressed together. “It’s bad enough you went against my wishes by moving in with him in the first place.”

“He’s closer to my school, and he offered—“

“I begged you to not move in with him,” his mother cried. “You know what he did to us.”

Her voice was rising. Other tables were starting to glance in their direction. Leo tried shrinking down in his chair. He didn’t know if he was more angry at her or more embarrassed by her.

“He’s my brother,” Leo said.

His father held out his hand, steady and palm-down. He still frowned. He was a great businessman, Leo always knew. He knew how to negotiate.

“It’s an offer,” he repeated. “Think about it. We could pay for your schooling. Or you could do it on your own.”

And Leo knew what he meant by on his own. If he stayed with Damián any longer, his relationship with his own parents would continue to deteriorate. They would talk less and less. His mother would cry more. He wouldn’t be invited to mass anymore (not that he ever went outside of holidays), and he wouldn’t be invited to Christmas or Thanksgiving. He wouldn’t get awkward phone calls on his birthdays.

A part of him was almost thankful for the escape even if being totally cut off from his parents made him scared.

It was a lot of money to turn down. And if he went to an out-of-state school, he would have to move out anyway.

But it would be wrong.

But he could con some money out of his parents.  

But maybe Damián would feel offended that he was accepting any money from them on such hurtful conditions.

Leo dug his fork into his crepes.

“I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all we’re asking from you,” his father said.

It wasn’t. But Leo could play nice until the check came.

Leo dragged himself back to the apartment hours later after he half-focused in classes.

He didn’t want to take the offer. At least, not without talking to Damián first. If there was enough bitterness in Damián, they could successfully con their parents together. They could split the money their parents sent Leo’s way and still talk and visit each other.

When he walked in the front door, he heard laughter. Laughter from two people. Leo hoped the second person was on their way out. He didn’t want any company.

He didn’t recognize the man sitting in the kitchen with Damián who laughed and smiled with him.

“You’re home!” Damiàn said. His hands were wrapped around a mug of tea. His fingers slid across the ceramic, back and forth. “This is Alex. He’s the guy I was telling you about. Eve’s brother?”

Leo stared Alex down. The man sunk in his chair. It was a little satisfying.

“The guy giving you the big paycheck at the end of the month?” Leo asked.

Alex’s cheeks reddened. Damián sighed.

“That’s not how I talk about you,” he said to Alex. “Leo, be polite. At least say ‘hi.’”

“Fine.” Leo turned back to Alex. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Alex squeaked out. “You’re Eve’s tutor?”

“Yeah, it’s cool,” Leo said. “Small word. Damián, I’m glad we’re making your client’s schemes into a family affair.”

“He’s in a bad mood,” Damián said to Alex. “He’s usually not like this.”

Leo walked behind them to get a glass from the cupboard. The crepes had left a gross, sugary film on his tongue all afternoon. He wanted to cut his tongue out of his mouth, but he’d have to make do with gulping down a glass of water.

“He’s usually a civilized human being,” Damián continued with a little edge to his voice. He definitely wasn’t talking to Alex. “He’s usually not rude to guests.”

Leo held his glass under the sink’s tap. Water filled it quickly, and Leo downed it even quicker.

“It’s okay,” Alex said. He was rubbing the back of his neck.

Leo got enjoyment out of making his squirm. He still didn’t know if his intentions with Damián were pure.  Eve was great and all, but what the fuck did her brother want from his brother?

He couldn’t believe someone so painfully awkward had planned out a large appointment with a sex worker.

“I should probably get going,” Alex said. “Eve’s going to be back from work soon.”

“I’m sorry about him,” Damián said. “Maybe you can meet him again when he’s not a grumpy toddler.”

“It’s really fine.”

Damián led Alex to the front door, briefly walking out of Leo’s view.

Alex could have been a killer for all Damián knew. He was probably putting on the awkward persona to lure Damián in. When Damián let his guard down, Alex could stab him. Or hurt him.

Or maybe he wasn’t being fair, and he was making judgments just like his parents would.

He laid his glass in the sink.

The front door closed. Damián walked towards his bedroom and passed Leo without looking at him.

“Damián,” Leo called out.

Damián threw his head back and slowly turned around. “What?”

“I want to talk about something.”

“I have to get ready for a client.”

“I really need to talk to you.”

“Is it going to include an apology for what you just did?”

Leo hesitated a little too long. Damián turned his back again.

“Whatever it is, it can wait until tonight. I have to be across town in a few hours.”

He closed the door to his bedroom. Music began playing. A playlist of ‘90s hits. Leo had teased Damián relentlessly with how stuck he was in the past with his music and even the few remaining Beanie Babies he owned.

Leo walked to his door and held up his fist to knock. But he slowly lowered his arm to his side. He had already pissed Damián off. There was no chance he would want to hear that Leo met up with their parents.

It was the second time in just two weeks that Leo had pissed Damián off. At some point, Damián was going to stop forgiving him. At some point, Leo was going to irreversibly damage their relationship.

It might have been worth it to take the money anyway. Leo could get out of Damián’s hair. Damián could have his apartment back to himself. He could have company over without Leo having a tantrum.

Leo opened his laptop. A window had been sitting open with tabs of out-of-state schools, their application requirements, and their tuitions. He pulled open his own school’s student portal and looked at his GPA. He was a good student. Without worrying about finances, he could probably get into most of the schools he was considering.

Damián left without saying anything. As soon as the door closed, Leo leaned back into the couch and pressed his hands into his eyes.

He was a dick. He was an absolute dick. Leo had made Damián look bad in front of a client. A client who was going to pay Damián well at the end of the month.

Maybe Damián would be better off if Leo left anyway.

#nobody ends up dead #writeblr #writblr #neud #original writing #writing community #queer fiction #writing

[softguarnere]

Like A Girl (Like A Man)

Like A Dream (Like A Plan)

Shifty Powers x OFC

Five: How Zenie Met Bobby

Summary: Bobby nods quietly. “Don’t worry Zena, I’ll keep your secret.” He offers her a kind smile. “Not like I have anyone to tell, anyway.” A/N: Finally, the Zenie and Bobby content we've all been craving Warnings: brief mention of ongoing Indigenous genocide, Zenie's dad cameo Taglist: @dcyllom @liebgotts-lovergirl @latibvles @mads-weasley @ithinkabouttzu @lady-cheeky @lieutenant-speirs @hxad-ovxr-hxart

North Carolina, 1941

It is the time of year where nature balances on the precipice between winter and spring. Warm afternoons give way to chilly evenings. Mornings begin with frosted grass blades and sweaters but end with romps in the creek to cool off by the time school lets out. The temperature is unpredictable, yet it only lends to the sense that something is happening, that the world is waking up and about to burst into bloom before your very eyes. Possibilities hang in the air like dandelion fluff.

Frost laces the windows of the kitchen, a cloud of condensation separating the warm world in the house from the chill waiting for her outside. She will need a sweater over her uniform, or a light jacket.

From across the table, Mama reaches over and squeezes her hand. The gesture does nothing to block out the tirade from the other room, though. Neither does Zenie’s intense focus on the frosted glass, how she tries to take in every detail of it, tracing it over and over with her eyes and memorizing it for lack of anything else to do – other than scream in frustration.

“Look at him out there,” she says suddenly, making Granny jump where she sits beside her at the table.

Mama leans closer to the window, squinting. “Who?”

Teddy, the old Paint horse, mills about in the pasture, nose creating small clouds as he huffs warm air over the cold grass. Old, stubborn Teddy. He likes to be scratched behind his ears. And he doesn’t mind giving rides, not really, as long as you let him truly open up and run at top speed at least once because he likes to show off his speed.

Teddy, the horse who no one has been allowed to ride since Matthew left for the Air Corps. Not even if they need a way to get to their first day at their new job.

“He’s like some kind of metaphor for all of us,” Zenie mutters into her coffee cup. “Perfectly capable, but useless because of the way he’s treated.”

“Zenie!” From her tone, Mama is either shocked or hurt. Maybe both. But is it because of what Zenie said, or because she knows it’s true? Of course she knows it’s true – they would have to be deaf to not hear Zenie’s father ranting in the next room about how the horse isn’t going to leave the pasture.

Before she can cause any more upset, Zenie stands, pushes in her chair so angrily that it squawks against the floorboards. “I better go. If I’m walking, then I don’t want to be late on my first day.”

The cold morning air does nothing to dampen the white-hot anger that boils in her veins as she takes off towards town, gravel crunching under her shoes. Her shoes, which were so nice. The one’s that Marilyn used to wear when she was a waitress in high school. They’re too small for Zenie, but she forced her feet in anyway, determined to look as nice in the uniform as her sister did. Though at this rate, the shoes will be scuffed and dirty by the end of Zenie’s first week.

Her first day goes well enough. The owner makes it clear that he only hired her on account of being Marilyn’s little sister, so she’ll have to prove herself. As if half her life hasn’t already been an epic struggle to free herself from her older sister’s shadow anyway.

The morning is slow. She doesn’t mind. Old folks come in and chat while she pours them rich coffee so strong that the aroma alone keeps Zenie herself awake. Lunch is about the same, although dread slowly begins to pile itself in her stomach like heavy stones whenever she thinks about the after-school crowd that will trickle in a little before the school day officially ends.

Before all too familiar faces begin flowing through the door, one that Zenie did not expect comes trapsing in – wearing one of the diner’s uniforms.

Bobby Dills from next door nods to her in acknowledgement as he makes his way to the back to deposit his belongings. There is no formal introduction – at least not that either of them will ever remember, anyway. It seems like they just fall in sync, waiting tables, helping each other carry out large orders, and offering each other the occasional encouraging smile.

She knows from living next door to him that Bobby is younger than her, but that’s about all that Zenie knows about Bobby himself. That, and that he has a limp that every now and then a customer will crack a joke about. Although Bobby smiles and laughs along with them, Zenie recognizes the look in his eye whenever he finally escapes their presence, coming back to the counter to wait with Zenie for the next round of guests to whisk one of them away.

 Bobby, however, seems to know something about her.

“You walked here,” he says matter-of-factly. The diner has been locked up for the evening, and the two of them stand in the fading light outside, waiting.

Zenie nods. “I did.”

“Why?” It’s not mean or judgmental. Just a genuinely curious question.

Should she tell him? Zenie has never told anyone about the strangeness that exists inside her house in the form of her father.

“Because I don’t have a car,” she finally answers after a moment of hesitation. “And my dad wouldn’t let me ride the horse like I had planned.”

“It’s cold,” Bobby notes. “You shouldn’t have to walk every day.”

“I don’t mind,” Zenie lies. The too-small shoes pinch her feet.

“Well, I do.” Bobby removes a set of keys from his pocket and makes his way over to a red truck parked in the corner of the diner’s parking lot. He looks back at Zenie after a few steps. “Are you coming?”

With you? She stops herself from saying. There’s nothing wrong with Bobby, or any of the Dills, that she’s aware of. But Mama has always made it very clear not to go accepting rides from anyone if she can help it. Too many women get taken right off the street just for being an Indian, and Zenie isn’t eager to become one of them.

Her feet throb, and the steady heartbeat she can feel in her cramped toes drowns out every warning that Mama has ever given her. She climbs into the truck.

It will feel silly one day, to look back and think that she was afraid of Bobby Dills, even for just a second. He’s a sweet kid, if not a little shy, but he makes polite enough conversation, and in a tone that makes you want to keep talking to him. Because unlike most people, Bobby talks to you, not at you. And he seems to want to get to know her, and maybe even enjoys her answers to his questions.  

The ride doesn’t feel long enough. Before she knows it, Bobby is idling the truck at the top of the drive, the place where the little gravel roads split off, one leading to the Dills’ house, the other to the McGlamery’s.

“Right here, tomorrow morning,” Bobby says. “I’ll pick you up on my way to school.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I insist.” Bobby smiles. “I want to.”

No one has ever said something like that to her before. Zenie can only nod. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” As Zenie gets out of the truck, Bobby rolls down his window, not yet allowing the conversation to end. “I don’t understand why your dad would make you walk like that. You would think he would have an appreciation for modern transportation, in his condition.”

In his condition. She almost snorts. “Because of his limp?”

Bobby’s brow furrows. “Because he’s missing a leg,” he supplies.

Now it’s Zenie’s turn to be confused. “What?!”

“Your father. He only has one leg, doesn’t he?” When Zenie only gives him an even more befuddled look in response, he rushes to explain. “He lost his leg in the war. That’s what I’ve heard him say around the farm store, when the old men stand around and tell war stories while buying their chicken feed.”

“My father wasn’t in the war. He was never even in the military. He limps because he fell out of a truck when he was eighteen. He’s nothing but a liar and a deadbeat.” The last part escapes her without her permission. She slaps a hand over her own mouth as if to contain the flood of words, but they’ve already escaped her. Bobby looks stunned. “Sorry,” she says when she feels safe enough to lower her hand. “I didn’t mean to say all that. Please don’t tell anyone.”

Bobby nods quietly. “Don’t worry Zena, I’ll keep your secret.” He offers her a kind smile. “Not like I have anyone to tell, anyway.”

There it is again – that same loneliness that Zenie recognizes from seeing it so often in herself. To think, she’s almost always felt so alone, yet there was someone right next door who might feel the exact same way.

“You can call me Zenie,” she offers. “Most everyone does.”

He smiles. “Sure thing. And you can call me Bobby.”

Zenie’s eyebrow quirks. “I was already calling you that.”

“Yeah,” Bobby replies, still smiling. “But you’re the only one I’ve given permission to.” He slaps a hand against the truck door to punctuate his own joke. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Zenie steps away to let him maneuver the truck down his driveway. She waves, then starts down her own.

Granny is waiting in the kitchen when she steps inside. “Who was that?”

“Bobby Dills, from next door. He works at the diner. Gave me a ride home.”

Granny hums. “He seems like a nice boy.”

“He is.” She hasn’t known him that long, but she feels certain in saying it.

And the next morning, when Bobby’s truck is waiting for her at the top of the drive, she knows that her assumption was correct.

#band of brothers fanfic #shifty powers #shifty powers x ofc #shifty powers x original female character #my writing #like a girl (like a man) #oc zenie mcglamery