#Billy not knowing he looks like his dad as Cap because he forgot what he looked like

[wolfsbanesparks]

Do you think that Billy knows what his parents look like?

That's a good question, and the answer mostly depends on the canon/how old you headcanon him as when his parents died. It also depends on how much angst you want to infuse a situation with.

For me, I tend to headcanon him as 4 or 5 when his parents died so he has some vague memories of them but those get more fuzzy the older he gets. He might be able to recognize their pictures, but I imagine he has trouble recalling the details of their faces. He can remember certain details (for example he knows his dad had dark hair and his mom had blue eyes but he doesn't remember much else).

[biillyhargroves]

rumspringa (fic requests open)

“Okay.” Billy’s voice, distant from the kitchen. Steve loops his keys on the hook by the door, hears Billy say, “Okay. Yeah. Thank you. Thanks — thanks for calling.” in the quietest voice before hanging up the phone with the softest click.

“Billy?” Steve calls, adjusting his hold on the paper bag, wandering deeper into the house. Billy doesn’t answer. When Steve enters the kitchen, Billy is standing by the phone, one hand still on the receiver, staring at it as if it had grown teeth, as if it might lash out if he doesn’t keep it contained. “Babe?” Steve says, sliding the groceries on the counter, shrugging off his jacket. Billy doesn’t seem to hear him, doesn’t even seem to know that Steve is there. Billy’s hand falls away from the phone, his head lowers. He takes in a shaky breath. Steve frowns, rounds the counter, asks, “Hey, hon, everything okay? You’re kind of freaking me out here.”

Billy opens his mouth to speak but no words come out. He clears his throat, licks his lips, murmurs, “Uh.” His eyes are misty when he raises them to Steve’s. “My dad died.” His brow creases like he doesn’t quite believe what he’s saying, like he’s trying to make sense of the words coming out of his own mouth. He repeats it, because maybe saying it twice will make it real, will jerk him out of this strange, dazed feeling. “My dad’s dead.”

Steve falls silent. He fishes for words, digs deep in the recesses of his stunned brain, but all that comes out is, “Oh, Billy.”

He reaches for Billy. Billy steps away. A pang rings deep Steve’s chest, echoes of earlier days, the days when Billy was all thorns and rough edges. Steve steps closer and this time Billy lets him put a hand on his shoulder.

Billy turns his head, zeroes in on the calendar tacked to the wall. It’s 1999. The sun slants through the tiny window over the sink; in the distance, waves crash against the shore. There are kids on the beach, racing into the sea, their small shadows swallowed up by seafoam. He can hear them shriek, laugh, even so far away, even over the crackling radio perched on the countertop. It’s October, but someone forgot to tell the west coast that autumn had settled in. The thermometer by the window is still pushing eighty degrees.

It’s been thirteen years. This strikes Billy all at once. It’s been thirteen years since he tossed that stupid Hawkins-green graduation cap into the air, thirteen years since he’d said goodbyes, since he’d vanished under the cover of night, the Camaro stuffed full of boxes scrounged from the back of Melvald’s, Steve at his side, humming along to the radio.

Billy hasn’t thought of Neil Hargrove since then. He’d let him fade into TV static, into background noise, until he wasn’t even that anymore — not a memory, hardly a person, just a dog-eared footnote faded with age, barely legible under pencil marks and smudged ink.

“That was, uh,” Billy says, still staring at the calendar, all the days Steve meticulously marked off in black Sharpie. “That was my uncle. He’s the one who found him. He…he hadn’t heard from him in…in a week? But, uh, he went on benders. A lot, recently, so he wasn’t, um…wasn’t worried. But he went over to check, and Dad was — he was face down on the couch. Beer bottles everywhere. He was…he was still holding a whiskey bottle by the neck. All the booze just…dried up in the carpet.” Billy looks at Steve, eyes wet, wide, childlike. “He’d been dead the whole time.”

Steve is quiet, absorbing it all. Billy sniffles, swipes at his nose with the back of his hand, ducks his head. He laughs a dry, sad sort of laugh that turns into something like a sob and Steve doesn’t hesitate; he gathers Billy into his arms, holds him there, rocks him. Billy’s shoulders shake as he cries against Steve’s shoulder, Steve’s hand on his hand, fingers threaded through his hair, holding him steady. It’s only a few minutes before Billy calms down and Steve asks, “What are you feeling?”

“I don’t know.” Billy shakes head, pulls slightly away. Steve runs his thumb across Billy’s cheek, wiping away lingering tears. “I don’t know,” Billy repeats, and Steve pulls him in again, rubs Billy’s back.

When they’d first moved, in that very first studio apartment with the roach infestations and the elderly neighbor who always dropped home cooked leftovers at their door, Billy had been jumpy. Any little rap at the door, any rumble of truck tires, any unexpected noise had his heart rate spiking, palms sweaty, his whole body on edge. Steve held him close every night, stroked his hair and, as Billy slowly drifting to sleep, whispered, “You’re safe. He can’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe.”

In the middle of their kitchen, Billy feels almost as small as he did back then. Steve squeezes him tight, kisses Billy temple and repeats assurances he hasn’t had to say in years, and this time he knows that he means them, that this is a real promise he can make. “He can’t hurt you anymore.”

And Billy’s voice cracks when he says, “I know.” Relief washes over him. He presses himself against Steve, gripping so tight he fears he might leave bruises, but he can’t stop, can’t let go. Steve holds him and Billy lets him. His voice is small and relieved as he says, again, “I know.”

[breanime]

Bre’s Boys Picture Preference: Your Baby Girl

Disclaimer: All of these adorable babies are internet babies, I do not own or know these babies, though I do wish them the absolute best lives. 

Billy Russo: When you told him you were pregnant, Billy kind of went on auto-pilot. He was there for every ultrasound, indulged your cravings no matter how nonsensical or inconvenient they were, bought all the books and bottles and tiny clothes, but he still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that he was about to be a father. Honestly, whenever he thought about it, all he could feel was this immense sense of guilt that he wouldn’t be able to give the baby the one thing it would really need: love. He could provide a home and education and all the material things, but Billy just couldn’t see himself loving an infant; he was still surprised that he loved you, to be honest. But then he saw her. And he held her in his arms for the first time, and Billy had never felt so weak, so happy, and so in love ever in his life. He felt such a sense of protectiveness and love and security when your baby girl looked up at him with big, black eyes...his eyes. Billy soon finds out that he’s powerless when it comes to his daughter; he just wants to hold her all day, one blink of her big, sweet eyes and he’s mush. “I will never let anyone hurt you,” he promises as he buckles her into the car, “I will make sure you have everything you want, no matter what it is. If you want it, Daddy will get it for you.” He can’t help but caress her soft, fat cheek with his finger, melting as she stares up at him, blowing spit bubbles as he talks. “Daddy is gonna give you the world.” 

Logan Delos: A lot of fathers call their baby girls their princess, but with Logan, he truly thought she was a princess. Your baby was a Daddy’s girl through and through; she could be fussy and whiny with you all day long, but as soon as she saw Logan’s face, she was all smiles. Logan doted on her, kissing her chubby little cheeks and pretending to eat her fat feet while she giggled her little head off. “Are you Dada’s Princess?” He cooed, lifting her in the air so she could kick her hands and feet in excitement. “Are you Dada’s perfect little Princess?” Logan actually designed and commissioned a crown (with a matching gold bracelet with her name engraved on it with a note that said “Daddy’s Princess”), because his daughter is a DAMN PRINCESS. And your little girl loved being royalty. It got to the point that she would whine and cry when you put her in anything less than a princess dress, and God help you if you forgot the crown her Daddy got her. And when Logan was out in public, dressed in one of his suits with his thick hair styled perfectly and his 1000-watt smile aimed at his princess, who was smiling up at him, pulling at his beard and babbling happily in her blush pink dress with her crown glittering in the sunlight, well... No one who saw the two of them could say they weren’t royalty. 

Jax Teller: Jax was a sucker for your baby girl’s toothless smile. He literally would stop what he was doing if she smiled at him, making him late to many a meeting--not that he minded. You would come home to see Jax laying on the floor with her, his smile wide as she laughed and tugged at his offered finger. The croweaters who clean the dorms are shocked when they go to Jax’s room and find it full of diapers and little pink blankies and cute onesies and stuff. The guys stop smoking inside and have gotten into actual fist fights over who gets to hold her next (Juice can’t cut it in the ring, but if the prize is cuddles with your daughter, he WILL knock someone out). Jax gets her a mini kutte that says “Daughter of Anarchy” on the back and sews a “President of Daddy’s Heart” patch on the front. The ringtone on his personal phone is his baby girl’s giggle, and no matter what bullshit he has to deal with via the club or his family or whatever, one smile from his daughter makes it all worth it. Since she was born, Jax smiled more, laughed more, practically floated on air. And he wanted to be a better man--for her. Wanted to make sure he was there for her, taught her right from wrong, how to protect herself, and most of all--he wanted to make sure she always had that smile; the kind of smile that could light up a room. He dedicated himself to your daughter and preserving that angelic smile for the rest of his life. 

Coco Cruz: You had terrible heartburn all throughout your pregnancy, and when your daughter was born, you finally saw why. Your baby was 10% child and 90% hair, just like her father. Coco loved her big hair, and she loved when he picked her fro out or washed it for her. You would hear nothing but laughter coming from the bathroom on wash day, and when you walked in, you saw Coco, inexplicably shirtless now, playing with your daughter’s hair. She wrapped up in a towel, giggling as Coco talked to her. “Papi is gonna put some of this in your hair,” he said, reaching for the coconut oil, “ooh, and some of this,” grabbing the peppermint oil as well. She shrieked happily, making grabby hands at the peppermint oil. “Okay, but you can’t eat it--mami, what did I just say? No no no,” as he picked her up and carried her to your room, kissing her fat cheek, “let’s get you a toy for you to chew on, okay? Aw, my baby... You’re so beautiful, just like your Mama.” He sits on the bed with her, taking her out of the towel and wrapping her up in your nice silk sheets (because she’s fucking worth it), as he continues doing her hair. You watch, heart full, as your little girl reaches up and starts patting Coco’s hair. “Oh, you’re doing Daddy’s hair now,” he asks, smiling as she laughs, “You’re so talented, mami! Thank you!” 

Angel Reyes: Angel and your baby girl were best friends from birth. She loved playing with her Daddy, loved being in his arms, and Angel felt the same way. The two of them were as thick as thieves, always laughing and playing, and she absolutely adored going on walks with him. So Angel would pack her diaper bag and take her to the beach, where she could waddle around with no shoes and play in the sand. Every day, his daughter made him laugh. It was like, once she was born, Angel finally felt like a complete person. This was who he was meant to be--this little girl’s father--and he was so grateful for the opportunity. He walked in front of her, phone out, taping her as she shuffled after him. “Come on, mi amor, come to Daddy,” he cheered. She stopped and put her fists up, making him laugh. “Oh, you wanna fight? Alright, come on then, champ! Put your dukes up! Show me what you got!” She scrunched her little face up in what was meant to be an intimidating face, but she only made herself that much cuter. Angel melted, dropping to his knees to grab and hug her. “You’re so damn cute,” he cooed, kissing her as she laughed, “You make Daddy so happy.” “Put up your dukes, Dada!” She shrieked, punching him in the face. He laughed, taking her fat fist and kissing it. “I love you so much.”

Miguel Galindo: When it came to your daughter, no one could tell Miguel anything. In his eyes, she was perfect. She was only a toddler, but she ran the house. She had Miguel and Nestor eating out of the palm of her hand, could bat her eyes and get you to give her extra sweets, even Cristobal wasn’t immune when it came to his adorable baby sister. Miguel spent many hours in his office with her on his lap, because when she wanted cuddles from Papa, she got cuddles from Papa. In fact, the staff started calling her “Boss Baby Galindo”, and Miguel had to agree--she was already the boss of the house for sure. He doesn’t realize how much she emulates him until he takes the family to their beach house for a little vacation. He, of course, has to hold your baby girl as soon as they get out of the car, and he’s holding her, both of them wearing their matching circular sunglasses (her’s customized into hearts as well), as he directs his security and staff. He sees Cristobal struggling with his over-packed backpack, so Miguel puts his daughter on the hood of the car for a second to help him, and then he hears her babbling. He looks up to see her pointing and “talking” to the staff, just like she’s seen him do. He can even make out certain words in her cute little tirade, such as “right now” and “ahora” (because his baby is bossy in two languages) as well as “let’s go”. He picks her up and kisses her cheek, proud of his Boss Baby Galindo. 

Nick Amaro: Your baby girl is the friendliest baby ever. Strangers are always stopping to wave at her, and she waves and smiles back, and Nick has to stand there and pretend he isn’t ready to cap a bitch for the imagined crime of hypothetically considering kidnapping his adorable daughter. Still, he loved taking his baby out, and he couldn’t lie--he loved all the compliments they got, loved how his little girl was such a sweetheart, always eager to meet new people. They couldn’t get three steps before some sweet old lady was cooing over her, and Nick just beamed with pride. One day, he decided to take her on a ride after he got off of work. He wrapped her up in her favorite fluffy blanket and buckled her into her pink car seat. He kissed her cheeks a few times before standing back, just smiling down at his perfect little angel, and he felt his heart swell. “I love you and your brother and sister more than anything in this entire world,” he whispered as he stared down at her, “I’m gonna be so much better than my Dad was, I promise...” The weight of that promise made his eyes water up, and he turned away, not wanting her to see him like this, but when he glanced down at her, she was giving him the sweetest little smile, and he couldn’t help but laugh softly. He leaned down and she reached up and patted at his cheek, as if to brush the tears away, and Nick took her little hand and kissed it. “I promise...”

Johnny Tuturro: Your daughter was cute, and she knew it. She had big, round eyes and her dad’s thick eyelashes. Every day when she woke up, Johnny would cradle her to his chest and tell her “you’re the most beautiful thing in the whole world. You’re smart, you’re worthy, you’re strong, and Daddy loves you with all of his heart”. He taught her how to crawl, taught her to say “Dada” and “Mama” and “wawa” (water), took her into the ocean and let her kick her fat little feet until she was practically delirious from laughter. You taught her how to make puppy dog eyes. And so, after doing her hair, putting bows in it, and getting her dressed, Johnny put her on the carpet. “Stay right here while Daddy gets your shoes, okay? Don’t move.” She nodded, giving him her most innocent smile. Johnny kissed her before going to get the shoes, and you watched, amused, as your daughter crawled away and started climbing the ottoman. Johnny groaned when he walked in and saw her, standing over her with his hands on his hips. “What did Daddy say? Hm? I said don’t move,” he frowned, but you could see the amusement in his eyes. Your daughter looked up at him, gave him that heart melting smile, and titled her head. “Wuv you,” she cooed, and Johnny fell to his knees, grabbing her and showering her in kisses. “I love you more!” You laughed, shaking your head at your sweet little con artist. 

Rio: Rio didn’t call your baby girl his Princess. She was THE QUEEN. Rio sat her on his lap while he made calls, letting her listen to the serious tone of his voice and learn how to talk to people (she was a baby, so...she didn’t talk at all yet, but still), and he never let her forget that she was special, because she was his daughter. As she went into toddler-hood, your daughter loved being around her Daddy. She would hold his hand and walk around the neighborhood with him, pointing at things and naming them, which he proudly encouraged. She was the first thing he thought about when he woke up in the mornings, and he was the last thing she saw when she went to sleep at nights--even if it was only on a video call. Rio adored her, and she loved him right back. Rio would sit her on his lap and put her hair in a bun, telling her how cute she was, and she would say “Dada cute too!”, making him laugh. She had started copying him more and more, and Rio thought it was the funniest thing. One day, as you and your daughter waited in the car for Rio to finish some business, he came out and saw her playing in the back seat. He opened the door and peered down at her, smirking at the look on her face--it was classic him. “We all good?” She asked, her lips pursued. He laughed, crawling into the car to smother her in kisses. “Yeah, mama, we all good.”

*******************************************************************************************

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[amyhasbluescreen]

Wandavision episode 5 spoilers

Spoiler ahead you have been warned

so firstly omg omg omg ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Ok, now that, that is out the way on to my thoughts and theories. 

So this episode was a wired one since we are no longer doing whole sitcoms or sword episodes, now just Jumping between the two. which seems like a better format (especially for the people who didn't understand the previous 3 sitcom episodes.) 

Wanda cant control the children. this could be because Billy is also a magic user and its cancelling out her powers or another kind of proof that Wanda is losing control her reality; we saw a similar thing with the stalk in one of the previous episodes (Now in Colour). 

Children are growing up quick. Tommy and Billy are growing up super quick like in the start of the episode they where 6 months to a year and at the end they 10, this is because they will want Tommy and Billy to play a bigger role in the future and you cant do that with babies (basically want they did with Cassie in Endgame). However, it seems like Wanda isn't changing the kids, this is proven when she says later in the episode when sparky dies (RIP Sparky) “Don’t...Don’t age yourselves up”. once again this could be Billy or even Tommy (since he fast) and they do seem aware of it happening however I don't think so its more likely this is Mephisto and Agnes or Nightmare or who ever is actually pulling the strings here (as in my opinion Wanda is too obvious to be doing this all by herself). 

roll the opining credits 

i just wanna give a shout out to baby vision in this segment (who is now up there with Grogu and Goot in my eyes). 

And where back to Monica who is have a scan, she explains that the feeling of being in Westview is painful  and “feels like drowning” to then finally saying it felt like grief. so now we know that it isn't really a picnic for the residents trapped in Wanda’s world (interesting), but most immortally in this scene the scan comes back empty like there is nothing there which could be because of Wanda blasting her though the forcefield maybe giving her, her photon powers like in the comics. 

also thanks to Darcey who gave Wanda’s powers a name “hex” which is what her powers are called in the comics and for the the best line “Hay Haywards a Dick” witch funnily get over shadowed with the word terrorist, maybe Hayward is one of those evil Skrulls Woo wrote about on his board. we know the other skurlls are coming in secret invasion. 

also Wanda Braking into to a sword facility to steal her dead boyfriend is a mood.   

But back to the sitcom where Tommy and Billy find a dog but not any dog Sparky the green synthezoid terrier from the Tom King vision comics (however he is not green). even though he last all of one episode I will miss him.

But hang on Vision is starting to realise things are not right here. things like Agnes not caring about the fact Wanda is using her powers and later in the office he awakens Norm and he tells him about his really family and he needs to find his phone cause his dad is ill. Which links to the identity board in episode 4 ( We interrupt this program) where it mentions Vision awakening Norm.

There is a bit where Monica explains that they need a Aerospace engineer who will be up for the challenge or creating a machine to go through the forcefield. So how about Mr fantastic himself Reed Richards or Victor Von Doom (who btw is part of a big scarlet which comic ‘Young Avengers children's crusade’).

They also do a bit were we find out Wanda is re writing reality its self not just creating an illusion (Monica, Darcey and Jimmy are really just out here doing all the work). 

Sitcom time again this time Wanda and the boys hear a noise that spooks the dog and he run off this causes Wanda to go investigate and the boys follow. its shown to be a drone from the 80s in an attempted to contact Wanda (as she can’t change it since it is already linked to the time period in question and seems to only change things  that don't fit in with sitcom year). so Monica tries to make a calm interaction but escalates quickly after Hayward (the dick) tries to shoot her. this causes Wanda to get angry and confront the sword guys on the outside. in short she tells them to get lost cause she isn't harming anyone and warns them if they continue she will stop them, showing this by manipulating the men around her to aim for Hayward not her and fly back in but not before making the forcefield stronger and visible.

Advert 

This weeks advert is for Lagos paper towels, if you forgot or didn't know Lagos is the place in the beginning of civil war when team cap is storming the Ex Hydra base and Wanda kills a bunch of people by accident. this is emphasised with the tag line “for when you make a mess you didn't mean to” since Wanda didn't mean to do what she did in Lagos however because of it, it leads to the Sokovia accords . 

sparky dies and the children are sad, however they ask Wanda to bring the dog back to life which she explains that not even she cant bring back the dead (sureeee). 

Vision returns home and presumably buries the dog off screen and then tries to confront Wanda about what's happening to which see tries to stop the episode suggesting they watch tv or turn in for the night however vision stop her and as there start arguing the credit roll only for them to glitch as she and vision leaves the room.

Vision tells Wanda he know she is doing this and pleads with to stop. he also tells her he doesn't remembers who he was before Westview and that he is just generally scared. however they are intruded by a door bell which Wanda says isn't her but Vision doesn't believe her. 

she opens the door and surly not, he’s gone, he’s died, she explained in this episode that she couldn't bring people back from the grave so no it cant be. oh god, it is him, its really him, ITS ARRO...EVEN PETERS’ quicksilver. 

So ya, in short they bring back Petrio (YAY I missed him). However it’s not Arron Taylor Johnsons it ends up being a weird amalgamation between Even peters’ Quicksilver from the X-Men movies and Arron Taylor Johnson’s. and suddenly cuts to Darcy saying Wanda recast Petrio but the next scene Wanda seem generally shocked she looks at Vision confused like she had not planed in this part. 

My theory is its Mephisto messing with Wanda but maybe its not maybe she pulled Quicksilver from the X-men universe smushed him with this earth’s quicksilvers memories and called it a day or maybe he’s just back, I really have no clue all I can say is that is seems a bit like a wolf in sheep’s clothing situation.

 But please let me know in the comments what you think is happening. I would really like have a discussion on what's happening in Wandavision and the MCU and comics as a whole.    

[solar3lunar]

2.᯾𝔼𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝔼𝕩𝕒𝕞᯾

Ayama POV

I heard my alarm going off. "Welp today the day. I better get ready." I touch my head to take my bonnet off. But it wasn't there. "You what. I might as well look in the closet. Because it not going to be on my bed."

Well at least I have silk pillows cases. I'll look for it later. I go to my closest to get out my old dress. Then went to the bathroom.

After 5 minutes I put my uniform and went back to my room I got all of my things and put them inside my bag.

I then walked downstairs and went towards the kitchen. I was just going to pour me some cereal. But I saw pancakes on the table.

I walk closer to see they were homemade fluffy cat shape pancakes. There was a note beside it.

"Do your best Lyric."

-Love, Dad

"Thanks dad." I can't help but smile at the note. After a few minutes of eating. I clean my plate and cup. And went to put my shoes on.

"Meow." I look back and saw Leo. "You have crumbs on your face." I giggled as I brush them off. "You two be good alright?" I asked. He nods. "Okay, I'll see you later."

I headed out the house. Locking the door from behind. I was only 6:25 when I left the house and the exam at the hero academy didn't start until 7:15. I really wish I some music on me. Oh well. I would only take me 5 minutes to get there getting on the train today.

I saw Izuku getting on the train before me. I would've spoken to him but he seems out of it and look deep in thoughts. I just stood close to him about 4 feet away. The digital clock on the bus said it was 6:30.

He got off before me. I got held back by the crowd making me 10 feet away from him. "Jeez." I finally got to the school building. "Stupid Deku." That voice.

"Kaachan." 'I haven't heard that name in a while.' "Get out of my way, now, before I set you on fire." Bakugou spoke angrily. He hasn't changed one bit. Then Midoriya started to freak out a bit. I wait until Katsuki was about 6 feet away from him. Although, I notice that his voice got deeper. Just sayin'

"Midoriya! Wait!" I shouted he turned his back around to me. I finally caught up to him while some people were waiting outside.

"Oh hey Ayama." He waved at me. "Oh you change your hair?" He asked. "Well kinda. You see my hair can change it curl pattern whenever I wash it. And I forgot to put on a shower cap this morning when I took a shower." I sighed.

"The style really looks good on you!" He said blushing a bit. I ignore the blush not knowing what he's blushing for or at. But he looks cute.

"So have you got it yet?" I whisper. "Yeah he said it going to hurt though. I had to eat his hair, before leaving to get here. I've may have eaten but I don't feel any stronger." He said while sulking. I just pat him on the back.

"I'm sure it'll sink in" I reassured him. "Right. But, bring it all you got, Ayama!" He said. "You too, Deku!" I said giggling a bit. He so cute.

"Hey! Are you guys ready for the exams?" A girl ask us. We turned around. Izuku went full on pink. She was about 5'1 I think. "Of course. Right Izuku! Izuku?" I asked him. He started to stutter a lot.

"Oh, y-yeah." He was a mess. I wonder if I would see Momo here. I went to middle school with her. She was my only friend there to be honest.

"Call me Uraraka." She spoke holding her hand out. I shook it. "Nice to meet you Uraraka-san. I'm Ayama." I said. "What your last name?" She asked. "Umm. I rather not say." I told her. " Oh and this is Midoriya." Introduce her to him.

"Nice to meet you." She said nicely. She was so cheerful. "Y-yo-you t-to!" He shouted. "We better get inside now. Don't want to get lock out." Uraraka said. "Oh your right it's 6:55." I said. "Oh and Midoriya you got this. You as well, Uraraka." I said. "Right let's do our best." She said as Midoriya nodded.

She goes ahead of us as I had to help Midoriya to get it together which took a minute. Once we got in we had to put our things in the open lockers. Their was security so nobody had to worry about getting there's things stolen.

Everyone was assigned seating. I was sitting way far from the others. I was on the 5th row to the front. Lord know how far from Izuku or Katsuki. I was sitting next to Momo. Turns out she was wondering if I was going to be here as well.

God this is going to be embarrassing. If I just look at my paper. Maybe I won't have to see my uncle.

Bakugo, Katsuki POV

"Midoriya wait!" A voice call out. Who would want a loser to wait for them. I didn't even turn around, because whoever called his name is probably also a loser or nerd.

"Oh hey Ayama." Deku said. Wait what. I turned my head around. The last time I saw Ayama her hair was down into a ponytail. This girl hair was very very curly, but I knew Ayama could do that as well. I couldn't tell what her skin look like because I only saw a glimpse of it. But even that was too damn fast.

I couldn't see what's the girl looked like so I just kept walking. I didn't think Ayama would be here. Whatever it's not like she'll beat me anyways. Wether she's here or not.

Midoriya, Izuku POV

"What's up, UA candidates? Thanks for tunin' in to me, your school DJ. Come on and let me hear ya!" Present Mic shouted. It was silence when he asked, but I was fan boying over it.

"Keeping it Mello huh. That's fine I'll skip straight to the main show. Let's talk about how this practical exam is gonna go down, okay?" He said.

"Are you ready? Yeah!" He shouted. Still silence

"Oh my goodness, it's the Voice Hero, Present Mic. So cool!" I said whispering. "I listen to his radio show every day of the week. It's so crazy nuts that all the UA teachers are pro heroes-" " Will you shut up." He said.

"Like your application said, Today you rockin' boys and girls will be out there conducting ten-minute mock battles in super-hip urban settings." Present Mic continue.

"Gird your lion, my friends. After I drop the mic here you'll head to your specific battle center, sound good?" He asked still silence. As everyone was looking at there card.

"Okay?" He shouted. "I see. Their splitting us up so we can't work with any of our friends." Kaachan spoke. I jumped a little terrified. "Yeah you're right." I said as I look at both of our card. I was put into center B while he had center A.

"Our examine numbers are one after the other, but we're assign different battle centers." I said still looking at our cards. "Get your eyes off my card." Kaachan said angrily. And I moved away a little from him a bit frightened.

"Damn. I was really looking forward to crushing you." He said as I just laughed nervously. Maybe he'll get Ayama in his battle center.

Ayama POV

"Okay, okay, let's check out your targets. There are three types of faux villains in every battle center. You'll earn points based on their level of difficulty. So better chose wisely.

Your goal in this trial is to use quirk to raise your score by shredding these faux villains like a mid-song guitar solo. But check it! Make sure your keep'n things heroic. Attacking other examine is a U.A big no-no, ya dig?"

This is too embrassing to watch, but I do hope that Izuku can get through this. He just got his quirk. And it going to bruise him. I got center B. I wonder what he and Katsuki got.

A student then spoke up about the robots. Which my uncle quickly answers that saying it was a bonus villain. Although he decided to point out Izuku who been muttering this whole time.

It kinda gets me upset, but yet again it's not like he knew why he doing it in the first place. Geeze this whole thing might as well be a video game that they put out. Big million dollars idea.

"That's all I got for you today. I'll sign off with a little present." My uncle said. "Oh God please no." I whisper knowing it would be a tough crowd. "A sample of our school motto." Then he continued on to speak as I just said the words in my head. Turns out. I don't have Momo with me, sadly.

"You ready go beyond? Let's hear a Plus Ultra!" My uncle shouted. I just put my head in my hands. "Good Luck!" He then continue to go on something about books.

We a got changed into out own gym wear. I was just wearing a black sweat shirt that was short sleeve. And long black sweat pants.

I seen Izuku was going up to Uraraka, so I decided to start going towards the robots. "Hey what's is she doing!?" I heard one student asked. "They didn't even say go yet!" Another shouted.

"She on the right track! There are no countdowns in real battle! Run run listener you're wasting air time here!" Uncle present Mic shouted. I could hear everyone running up towards me.

By that time all of the robots came towards us. I quickly use my voice to scream damaging them by a ton. That should be about 56 points. The robots got up again unsurprisingly. And the other students got a turn.

I got to see of their quirks as my uncle mic pointed out each of their quirks, but mines not that I care considering my situation.

Suddenly the whole battle center started to shake. I look towards Uraraka, Ochako she also notice it after throwing up.

"The fourth robot." I mutter. The robot made it first punch which had a incredible force. Although I kept my feets on the ground. On foot in front of the other and making an X with my arms. I was standing about 5 feet from it. "Less than two minutes!" Uncle mic shouted.

All the students started to run away. Something told me to stay put and look at my surrounding. That when I notice Uraraka was stuck. My eyes widened. Instead of running from danger I ran towards it to help Uraraka out.

"Ayama what are you doing you'll get crushed!" She told me. "I know but it worth it." I said and it confused her. I have a feeling that Izuku power would snap in any moment by now.

And I was right. I had to quickly sing something, so I did. (Ocean eyes.) Making my eyes water and form a protective barrier around u. I saw Izuku use the one for all power in his arm punching the robot away and making it fall down.

I stop singing, bringing the barrier down then look at Uraraka quickly to use her power to lift of the hard cement rock above her leg.

"Hey you okay?" I asked her she nodded. But I had to help her up. I felt really bad about Izuku. He knocked down the robot, but it was zero points.

We heard the students whisper all round. His eyes were dull in shock. I don't think he could've felt the pain in his arm. With the adrenaline running.

Recovery girl well, I call her Nana. She kissed them both healing them. Me and Uraraka look at each, both agreeing on what do to about Midoriya.

We went towards the judge's room to ask them if we could give Izuku our points, but surprisingly they said the judges already did something for him. So we left. "It's nice knowing you Uraraka." I said. "You too Ayama. Hopefully I'll see you at this school." She said.

"You too." I wave at her goodbye. I knew I was getting in regardless. I turned my phone on walking towards the train station. Once It's stop at the 3rd stop I saw Midoriya getting off. He look sad but I only smile knowing he'll get in.

I got off at my stop. Walking home I just sung a song that was in my head. I knew people could hear, but I closed them out. Although I'm careful to sing around my dad. Knowing how my mother death affect him. He said he likes to hear me sing more, but I feel like it's only going to hurt him. I notice my dad was home because of his car.

I walk in the house to have the smell cheesey spicy noodles up my nose. When it comes to food. I just know what it is. I took my shoes off. "I'm home." I said while taking my earphones out.

I saw my dad in front of me. "I would open this first." He said handing it to me. Then went to the kitchen. So much for bonding. Don't get me wrong we bond a lot, but I mostly lock myself away in my room.

I rush up to my room. Putting my bag on my bed. I put the envelope on my desk and sat down on my chair. I open it only for  a virtual screen pop up. "Hello Ayama!" It was Uncle Might."This gotta be a joke." I said in shock.

"I know you would be shock, but you see I didn't come to this cities just to fight villains, but I'm the U.A newest faulty member!" I'm not too surprised that this

"I would like to say that's you have an amazing voice and power. You know what I love to hear it again." Uncle all might spoke. Don't tell me..

"Roll it!" He shouted then move out of the way. "God, please no." I heard my voice. It's sounds wonderful and calm, but I get embarrassed of it. Once it ends I lookup again.

"Wow what a wonderful voice. You have. Now that over with let's look at your scores. "No way! I got second place!" I shouted happily. I was just happy, but I had to look again for any of my others friends.

I see Izuku got 7th place at least they gave him a chance. Ochako was in 3rd place, while Katsuki was....1st. it didn't show my last name on there. I had 58 villain points and 47 rescue points.

"We are looking forward to having you here at U.A see you there!" Then it shut off. I had taken all in. I heard a knock on my door. It then open.

"I heard good job Ayama. Your mom would be proud of you." My dad said. I went to him and hug him. I think he was a bit shock by it. "Thanks Dad." I said. "You work for it." He said kissing my head. He proceeded to hand me my uniform outfit.

{Brain and Heart~Melanie Martinez}

‘False lovin, when was illogical. Didn't know they held each other hands as they made one whole’

The same melody. "Alright dinner ready. Let's eat." He said. I nodded. While we walk down stairs look at my mother picture. I smile at it. I won't let you down. "Hey do you mind if I walk to school on the first day?" I asked.

"How come you don't wanna ride in the car with me?" He asked I was scared he would asked that. "It's just I wanna walk to school on my first day that all." I said. I just really felt like walking on the first day while singing.

"Does this have to do with your singing?" He ask. Dang. "No. I just really feel like walking to school on the first day." I said. I felt a bit of tension, but it drop as soon as he sighed.

"Fine." He sighed. "Dad you worry to much." I said as I gave him a kiss on the forehead then told him good night. He has so much concern in his eyes.

We talked about how uncle All Might going to be teaching the students and that lead to a lot of laughs. He then turn it into something serious as in what to do if someone ask for my last name. I gone through my whole life with nobody knowing what my last name is. Well except for pro heros.

I decided to turn in, because it was getting late and this is the first week of a school week. I guess you could say. I did my nightly routine. I then put my bonnet on and went straight to bed.

Ugh what a day.

Aizawa, Shota POV

She just like her mother. The only time I she her like me is when something serious or she just at home. God, what if one day she runs into Khessō.

And I know I can't keep this " Your mom died when you were born." Up forever. Eventually she'll find out. I got up from the table to walk up stairs. I stop to look at her picture that Ayama was looking at.

The last thing from I saw from Khessō was that note. 'I'm been kidnapped don't come looking for me keep Ayama safe. I love you both.' I put the picture down and turn the lights off walking up stairs. It's was when Ayame just turn a month old.

I look into my daughter room who was sleeping peacefully.  Reminds me of her mother. I know Ayama think her singing hurts me, but does the opposite.

I closed my daughter door and went towards mines. The room was clean, but missing her things. The bed was always missing a person.

Taglist: @mypimpademia

~Luna Lyric~

~Wishlist~

~Universe navi~

[jamesedwinstark]

Okay, as promised I am posting the James noncon. There'll be 2 posts.

I wanna be SUPER CLEAR that this is NOT CANON. This is just a horrible "what if" scenario that I needed to vomit onto a page.

The concept here is that Justin Hammer is holding James hostage. He infected a number of his employees with nanites that will kill them if James doesn't do everything Hammer says. James also has nanites in him which monitor his behavior and make it so he can't call for help.

The first thing Hammer wants to do with James is... go on a date. This is the date.

I’ll pick you up around 8. Wear something slinky ;)

That was the text James had received a few hours earlier. After days of waiting, of trying to pretend nothing was wrong, it was finally happening. James didn’t know if he was glad to get it over with, or if he wanted a few more days of relative normalcy. In the end, it didn’t matter what he wanted. He’d do as he was told.

It was best to get ready like it was a normal date. James picked out an outfit he thought counted as ‘slinky’: a long-sleeved shirt with cut outs in the back and on the shoulders, cropped so it showed barely an inch of midriff, pants which clung to his butt and drew attention where it was needed, and boots with just a little heel, accentuating his legs. He was supposed to be a trophy, not a whore. Right?

Clothes at the ready, James sat down at his vanity. He made up his face on autopilot, not doing anything special; it wasn’t as though this was Valeria or Loki, people whose preferences he knew intimately, who loved him, who he really wanted to please. He wished either of them were here.

While digging through his lipsticks, James pulled out a tacky, pink glitter gloss. He considered wearing it. It suggested youth, naivety, innocence. It said, “set me free; I’m just a kid.” That doesn’t matter. It only matters whose kid you are.

Well, the pink was worth a shot. James never knew what little thing might give him an advantage. He picked out some earrings inlaid with pink gemstones to match.

As he applied the gloss, his phone buzzed. He waved a hand and a screen popped up in front of him. He’d been mentioned in one of his groupchats, specifically the one for former Young Avengers, which he’d been invited to join in an honorary capacity, having spent a decent chunk of his childhood as something of a team mascot. He tapped the notification.

TEDDY: Hey! @James, some of us are heading to a bar, wanna come???

KATE: Jimmmminmy!

ELI: Wr already got satarted

TEDDY: Kate already got started

TEDDY: Yeh, lmao ^^

TOMMY: Jimmy ger Dow. Here and I’ll find u and unstable girl

BILLY: Guys, he doesn’t like being called Jimmy. Plz use his full name

BILLY: Jimbo come hang out with us

A tickle in the back of his head told him that the nanites in his brain were on high alert.

JAMES: As much as I love watching you get trashed and butcher my name, I can’t tonight

KATE: Booo u whoree!

DAVID: Plx help me jim I’m not drunk enough for this

James sighed. The point was for people to know about it, so he may as well say something now.

JAMES: I actually can’t. I have a date :)

The smiley face felt a little forced, but that was probably just projection. Nobody would question it. He was supposed to be excited. It was supposed to be believable.

BILLY: Oh

BILLY: Ok

BILLY: Have fun :)

TOMMY: Lmao seriously tho do ew even wana kno who is it THIS TIME

James clenched his fist in front of his face, and the screen disappeared back into his phone. Even his own friends thought he was an idiot when it came to love. Because you are. You deserve this.

There was almost an hour where James was dressed and ready to go, just pacing around his apartment, waiting. As the minutes stretched on, the nervousness twisting up his insides heightened. It’s no big deal. It’s just a date. Not even, it was a con, just for show. All he was doing was working a mark, playing a role. He was good at that. This would be fine.

He checked his phone when it buzzed again at 8:34.

Car’s waiting. Hurry that cute little ass down here

James took a deep breath, grabbed his coat and headed out the door. While taking the elevator down, James replied.

On my way

There was a white limo parked outside James’ building. James knew it was where he was expected to go, because it radiated a nervous, vicious excitement that made him dizzy. As he approached, the driver stepped out and held the door for him. He had nothing but contempt for James.

“Thank you.” James told him sweetly, flashing him a demure little smile. The driver’s contempt was eaten away slightly by another, even less comforting feeling: pity. He wondered how much, if anything, the driver actually knew about what was going on.

Justin Hammer was waiting for him inside, and if he’d been any happier he would have been bouncing in his seat. The inside of the car smelled a little too strongly of Hammer’s cologne. James sat down across from him and Hammer looked him up and down appraisingly. He was… disappointed. Oh no.

“Is that what you decided to wear?” He asked.

James looked down at his outfit. “What’s wrong with it?”

“I mean, would it kill you to show some more skin?” Hammer whined. “I thought you kids wore skirts now.”

A skirt suggested something. Easy access. Hammer wanted people- James’ Dad most of all- to see James’ bare thighs and know who was getting between them. It seemed that he had been wrong; he was supposed to be a whore.

“I’m… sorry.” James said. “I didn’t know that’s what you wanted.”

Hammer sighed. “I think I’d better take a more hands-on approach to your outfit choices from now on.”

“If that’s what you want.” James acquiesced.

“When we get to the restaurant, there are going to be paparazzi.” Hammer explained, barely acknowledging that James had spoken. “I may or may not have tipped somebody off. You're gonna put on a good show for them, alright? I wanna see a big smile on that pretty face. Really sell how infatuated you are with me.”

James huffed. “I know how to play my role, Hammer. This is what I do.”

“Come on, sweetheart. We're in love.” Hammer said, unpleasantly pleased with himself. “You can call me Justin.”

“I was planning on doing that in public.”

“Well, I want you to do it all the time.”

That was all that needed to be said on the matter.

The car pulled up to the restaurant, and Hammer stepped out first. He held the door for James, making sure that the paparazzi who had indeed turned up saw him doing so. James played his part, put on a cutesy smile and batted his eyelashes as he got out of the car and wrapped himself around Hammer’s arm. As soon as he did, he felt Hammer get frustrated, and saw him glance down at James’ shoes. James was already an inch or two taller, and the slight heel made that little bit of difference all the more noticeable. He’d already messed up again. This might be a little more difficult than he thought.

The handful of paparazzi that had gathered and were being ushered away, unhurriedly, by the restaurant staff, barked questions at James, which he ignored. Their camera drones buzzed perilously close to get good shots of the absolute travesty of a date they were witnessing. James could practically hear the nasty headlines they were concocting in their heads about him and his wonderfully tabloid-worthy habit of getting into bed with the ‘wrong’ sort.

They were at the door when James got the sense of someone else trying to get his attention, but not in a mean way. He heard a child ask, “Is that really him?”

James turned on his heel to see a woman with a little girl, maybe five or six, looking at him. They both got very excited when they realized he’d noticed them. Abandoning his annoyed date, James jogged over to the pair.

“I’m really sorry to bother you Mr. Stark, but we heard you were going to be here and…” The woman began sheepishly, “You’re her favorite.” The little girl buried her face in the woman’s pant leg.

James laughed, sincerely this time. “I always have time for a young lady with such impeccable taste.” He said, before getting down on the little girl’s level. “I’m James, what’s your name?”

The little girl looked up questioningly at the woman- presumably her mother- before replying “Sarah.”

The paparazzi took some interest in what he was doing, but they weren’t as thrilled about it. Local Superhero Nice to Child wasn’t as attention-grabbing a headline as Cap and Iron Man’s Son Does Something Awful, Again.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sarah. Did you know Sarah was my grandmothers name?”

The little girl shook her head.

Hammer was getting exponentially more annoyed by the second, but he couldn’t exactly drag James away from a little kid in front of all these people. Not without looking like the second coming of Ebenezer Scrooge anyway. Still, James didn’t want to push his luck, he had to wrap this up quickly.

“Are you really the Golden Avenger?” Sarah asked.

James snapped his fingers, and a shower of yellow sparks spilled from his hand. “I sure am.”

Joy erupted in Sarah’s chest like fireworks. “We’re the same!” She squeaked.

“She has epilepsy.” Her mother explained. James nodded.

Seeing that Sarah’s ears were pierced, he took the pair of star-shaped pink sapphire studs out of his ears and pressed them into her hand.

“That’s for you. Wash them before you wear them; it’s not sanitary otherwise.” James said. “Now, Sarah, this is important. I believe in you, I want you to believe in yourself, and always, always listen to your parents. Do we have an understanding?”

Sarah nodded.

James hurried back to where he had left Hammer waiting, feeling the impatience directed his way. As soon as he was close enough, Hammer grabbed him, clamping a hand firmly on James’ butt (which the paparazzi adored) and dragging him inside.

“I know that wholesome image is how you sell lunchboxes and all,” Hammer hissed in his ear, smiling as he did so, “but don’t keep me waiting, ever again. You got that?”

A thousand explanations and protests died on James’ tongue. While talking to the kid, he had briefly forgotten that someone else owned him. Briefly.

“I got it. I’m sorry.”

Once they were inside, James shed his coat. Seeing his exposed back made Hammer a little happier with James’ outfit. It was almost… uncomfortable how much happier seeing that skin made him. James brushed it off as just more of Hammer’s weird overenthusiasm.

“Is this more what you were thinking in regard to the skin thing?” James asked. He kept his tone light. “Specifically mine and showing more of it.”

“It’s definitely better.” Hammer agreed.

This was good. If they could get along while fake-dating, eventually Hammer would have to start seeing him as a human being. He would like James, if only James provided the camaraderie Hammer had always craved from James’ Dad, camaraderie which had always been denied to him. Then he’d let James go.

The maitre d’ seated them by a window, which meant more pictures of them together, and more acting for James. While they were across from one another, Hammer fixated on James’ eyes. He didn’t seem to be able to stop looking at them. You didn’t have to be a super-genius to figure out why. You just had to look very, very similar to one.

Nobody brought them menus.

“I took the liberty of ordering ahead of time.” Hammer boasted. “I’m gonna take good care of you tonight, don’t you worry.”

Again, James got a weird reading from Hammer. Something in the back of his head was trying to warn him about something. Danger, James Stark! Danger! Danger! Well, of course he was in danger, somebody else had his life in their hands. It’s more than that, don’t be stupid.

The waiter brought out their meals. James’ was not something he recognized as food, but he’d never been much for fancy cuisine. He’d survived this long mostly on chicken nuggets and takeout. Still, he picked at his dinner, not wanting to seem like he was ungrateful or that he disapproved of Hammer’s choice. He remembered what his Pop had told him about growing up in the Depression, and all the garbage they’d choked down trying to survive. I was 25 before I realized sawdust wasn’t actually an ingredient. If Pop could do that, James could work through something that had been meticulously crafted by a trained chef. Don’t be spoiled. You’re an Avenger, not a princess.

“Do you prefer red or white wine?” Hammer asked. “I know the sommelier personally. She’ll get us some of the good stuff.”

“I can’t drink.” James said, and when that led Hammer to get irritated, he explained, “Because of my condition.” It still wasn’t good enough. “But, I suppose one glass won’t kill me.”

The sommelier who poured their drinks was nauseatingly gracious to Hammer, but James could tell that she didn’t actually like him. Just has the driver had done, she regarded him (internally, of course) with contempt. James started feeling a little bad for Hammer; everyone around him was so fake.

Hammer raised his glass. “To us.”

Oh my gosh he can’t be serious. James raised his glass in answer, smiling through the pain of secondhand embarrassment. Having never really had more than a few sips of alcohol at any one time, James was unused to the taste of wine. It was nasty. He powered through it. People actually drank this stuff for fun? All it did was remind him that, right now, his friends were getting sloppy wasted on any number of unpleasant-tasting concoctions. He was supposed to be there, not here.

“Babe, has anyone ever told you you don’t talk much?” Hammer asked.

“I can honestly say nobody has ever said that to me in the history of my life, no.” James replied.

“It’s something you should work on.” Hammer continued as if James hadn’t spoken at all. “And smile more. Jeez, kid, you’re bumming me out, you know?”

James grinned. “Right, cameras are still on us and all.”

“And you’re having fun, aren’t you?”

He wants it to be real. Give him what he wants. “Yeah, of course.” He wants it to be real. Why did that sit so uneasily?

“This isn’t the sort of place I’d take just anyone.” Hammer gestured around at what was, admittedly, a very classy place. “This is the five-star treatment. It’s just for people I really want to undress.”

“... I’m sorry?”

“It’s for people I really want to impress.” Hammer leaned in. “You’re a very special kid. I’ve been waiting a long time to get my hands on you.”

Hammer was feeling at him very, very intensely. It was like being in a sauna, having him so close and emitting the thrill of power he was getting from all this. Power and… something else.

James laughed, clear and seemingly unforced. “I guess you’ve got me.”

“I guess I do, don’t I?” Hammer leaned back and just reveled in it for a moment. What he was feeling made James little ill. James took a drink of water. It was getting oppressively hot. Hammer was getting oppressively hot… for… James.

He was aroused. This, holding James hostage, hurting his Dad, was making Hammer horny, and he had James right here… he could do anything he wanted. He wants it to be real. How real? How real was he going to make it?

Hammer started talking at James, telling him about some impressive thing he almost certainly hadn’t actually done. James only half listened, his mind was occupied, trying to peel back the layers of Hammer’s intention like he’d been taught to do. Find and identify all the tiny little things Hammer was feeling at a given moment. His attraction was superficial, the real source of his arousal was the sense of ownership he had, of victory. It led to feelings of excitement, anticipation, expectation… certainty. He was certain.

"Excuse me, Justin." James tittered during a break in the ‘conversation’. His smile felt like it would crack his face. "I need to go powder my nose."

Hammer took a sip from his wineglass. "Ok, you can go. Don't take too long, though." Again, that sickening rush washed over him. "I want to get out of here soon."

James hurried away from the table. Soon. His vision blurred the second he stood up, so he navigated his way towards the bathroom mostly through magic. Once there, he clung to the nearest sink for support. Trying to combat the intense nausea that had overtaken him, he splashed cold water on the back of his neck. It was no use. Throwing himself into the nearest stall, James retched violently and puked up what little he had eaten. Cold, clammy sweat started to bead on his lip and the back of his neck.

He's going to rape you. It was not a matter of if. He was going to do it, certainly.

James really was stupid to think it would be anything but this. Why would Hammer be content with just letting everyone think he and James were lovers, when he could make it a reality? This would be the ultimate victory over Tony Stark: raping his baby.

James needed his Daddy. He needed to be rescued, to be held in strong, safe arms like he was a child again. He needed what was about to happen not to happen.

It was going to happen anyway.

Too much time had passed. James got up off the bathroom floor and brushed off his knees. He went to the sink and swished water around in his mouth, getting the acrid taste of vomit mostly cleaned away. This is going to happen to you, and you're going to let it. You'll be fine. You're a survivor. Stark men are made of iron.

He touched up his makeup, dried off a little and, as ready as he'd ever be, headed back to his table.

"There he is! I was starting to think you'd fallen asleep in there." Hammer remarked as James returned to his seat. Hammer was expectant. What was he expecting? Was that supposed to be a joke? It was. James giggled. His mouth was so dry. He sipped at his water. Even that made his stomach turn a little.

"Anyway, where was I? Oh right..." Hammer continued his anecdote in between bites. James smiled and nodded sweetly, his own dinner rendered inedible. He kept trying to get water down, but nothing seemed to help the thick sticky feeling on his tongue and down his throat.

His left hand was clenched in a fist under the table. I could burn a hole right through you just by staring. I could cook your brain in your skull with my fingertip. I could... golly, I really could beat you bloody with my bare hands.

"You're not eating?"

James fluttered his eyelashes. "I guess I'm not very hungry." He explained.

"So you don't want dessert?"

"No thank you."

Hammer's excitement hit James like a freight train, but it wasn't normal excitement. It was all twisted and wrong. He reached out and grabbed James' hand, running his thumb over James' knuckles in a gesture that, from the outside, might appear tender.

"That's ok. You and I are going to have a different kind of dessert. Doesn't that sound good?"

James swallowed thickly, eyes trained pointedly at the middle distance. His smile faltered just a little, and when he spoke, his voice was small, barely audible.

"Yes." He nodded weakly. "Yes."

How exactly they got from the restaurant back to the car, James wasn't sure. He seemed to drift, only barely aware of his coat being wrapped around his shoulders, paparazzi snapping his photo as he stepped outside, the car door being held open for him while he was ushered in like a curious child into an unmarked white van. Smile. You're having a great time. Hammer clutched him every step of the way, as though James were a fish caught in his talons which might slip back into the ocean and swim home before he could devour it.

In the car, Hammer sat next to him, practically right on top of him. James’ stepford smile dissolved the second they were alone together, but Hammer didn’t seem to have noticed. His hand was on James’ knee, inching up his thigh, as he whispered in James’ ear.

“I booked us a room uptown.” He was close enough that James could feel Hammer’s breath on his neck. “I thought we’d do something a little special for our first time.”

“Justin, nobody can see us.” James knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as the words came out of his mouth, but he had to try something. If he made it seem like he didn’t understand, he could say no without actually saying ‘no.’

Hammer’s joy evaporated, replaced with white-hot rage. He gave a short little laugh. “Now, baby, I took you on this nice date and all. I’ve been a real gentleman, and I just think it’s fair,” He squeezed James’ leg painfully hard, “that you put out. Nobody likes a tease.”

“...Ok.”

The anger didn't subside, and James was terrified of what might happen if he let Hammer stay too mad for too long. He plastered a smile back on his face.

“I can't wait.” Was his voice shaking? Had it cracked? “I can’t wait to make love to you.”

His heart was racing. He'd said it, and now he couldn't unsay it. He couldn't stop hearing his own words echoing in his head. Make love. This was the furthest thing from love he could imagine.

The hand on James’ thigh slid up to paw at his groin, and Hammer leaned in to kiss him on the neck. He sucked at the skin there (stop it) like he was trying to leave a mark (don't), and, honestly, he probably was (get off of me). James wanted nothing more than to blast a hole in the car and rocket into the night sky. He reached out, laid a gentle hand on the back of Hammer’s neck and pulled him ever so slightly closer.

“Yeah, good, Tony.” Hammer moaned against his neck. “Just like that.”

James clenched his eyes shut. It didn't seem like Hammer even noticed he'd said anything wrong.

When he was satisfied that he'd left an adequately visible hickey, Hammer licked a wet stripe up to James’ mouth and forced his tongue inside. Fighting the urge to spit the flicking, invasive appendage out of his mouth, James hummed as though turned on. Hammer leaned in, making James take a deeper mouthful of that fleshy, wet thing.

This is just his tongue. How are you going to deal with his…

They were at the hotel before James knew it. Hammer paraded him through the lobby, hand firmly attached to his buttcheek. By some miracle, James managed to continue playing his role, leaning into his ‘date’ and giggling whenever Hammer whispered some horrible, obscene thing in James’ ear. It was all he could do to keep from shaking.

When they got up to the room, Hammer slid James’ coat off for him. It seemed like a normal enough gesture, something a real boyfriend would do, something his real boyfriend had done before, but all James could think was that he was already being undressed. He was being stripped down to nothing.

The suite itself was unnecessarily opulent. Everything sparkled. There were two rooms connected by an archway, the first being home to a sitting area populated by fashionable, uncomfortable-looking furniture, an equally painful-looking dining area, and an oppressively shiny kitchenette with a wet bar. The bar was where Hammer headed, brushing his fingertips along James’ exposed back as he did so.

“I'm going to make myself a drink, do you want anything?” He asked as he got out a glass and a bottle of scotch.

“I'm ok.” If James could get drunk, he would have used any means possible to numb himself. “I have to go get ready.”

Without looking up from his drink, Hammer waved him off. James went into the other room, the bedroom, making a point not to look at the bed. The bathroom attached to the bedroom, and he retreated into it.

Halfway through peeling off his clothes, James felt the urge to vomit again. He knelt in front of the toilet and heaved for a while, but nothing came up. He was too empty. Hollow.

The fancy shower was sufficient for James to get himself clean. Ordinarily, he did this ahead of time in his own shower, because he knew what was coming. He hadn't been properly warned this time, or maybe it had been obvious all along and James had let himself remain in denial. Whatever the case, he didn't want to incur Hammer’s wrath now by not giving him what he expected. He wants the girlfriend experience. James found himself laughing out loud, bitter, strangled noises coming out of his throat. He doubled over and puked into the shower drain.

Would Hammer get mad if James took too long? He reached out his mind and found the man still vibrating with his strange, unpleasant happiness, only a little impatient. Biting his tongue, James reached down and forced himself to work past his revulsion and finger his hole open. It would be easier if he was prepped. It would hurt less. James wondered if Hammer had even brought lube.

After stalling for as long as he could by washing everything several times over, he finally left the bathroom in nothing but a towel. Putting his clothes back on would only get him in trouble. The first thing he saw as he stepped out was the bed. It hit him then. Really hit him. This was actually going to happen. It was going to happen in a few minutes. He folded in on himself, crumpling to the floor. He knew he shouldn’t, that he needed to keep smiling, pretend he wanted it, but he couldn’t stop himself. Desperately, helplessly, James started to cry.

Sensing Hammer approaching, James scrambled to his feet and quickly wiped his eyes, but it was too late. When he walked in the room, Hammer spotted James’ red, tear-streaked face. Again, burning rage emanated from him, tinged with a sense of betrayal. There wasn’t an ounce of guilt or pity inside him. He strode over and cupped James face in his hands a little roughly.

“It’s ok to be nervous.” He said. His voice masked his anger only thinly.

James stared at the ground and nodded, swallowing back more tears. Hammer took hold of one of James’ wrists and guided his hand down to feel his erection through his pants. It wasn't as small as James had hoped. I could castrate him right now. Burn him. He couldn't really, though.

“Feel that, sweetheart? That’s for you.” Hammer cooed. “That’s going to be inside you, and you’re going to love it. Trust me, you’re going to love it.”

“O-ok, yeah. I want-” James’ voice cracked, and he lost it. He was sobbing again, stammering, “Please, Justin, you don’t have to do this. There's a better way to... I can help you. I understand-”

“Stop crying!” For the first time all night, Hammer actually showed how angry he was, just below the surface. James bit his lip to keep any more sobs from slipping through. Hammer continued, “You don’t get to say no to me. Shut up, and go lie down on the bed.”

James whimpered. “Please…”

“Lie down on the bed. Now.”

There was, in fact, lube. As expected, there was minimal prepping. Then, it was inside him.

James tried to go somewhere else while it was happening. He was overwhelmed by the oppressive smell of too much cologne, the words being moaned at him (“Oh, yeah, Tony, fuck, Tony!”), the taste of scotch in the kisses that kept being applied to his mouth, as though this were something sweet and passionate, as though it wasn’t what it was. Most of all James was overwhelmed by the nauseating self-satisfaction that smothered him, threatening to choke the life out of him.

There was a glass chandelier above the bed. It swayed gently and cast diamond shapes on the hotel ceiling. James counted them out: one, two, three, one-e-and-a-two-e-and-a-three-e-and-a around and around the chandelier in a pattern that just wouldn’t stop.

It did stop, eventually. Hammer cried out and spilled into him. James’ mind instantly supplied the image of that fetid, mystery liquid which collected in the bottoms of trash bags and gushed out if the bag was accidentally punctured. Sated and victorious, Hammer gave a few final thrusts (Just stop. Please just stop) and his pleasure walloped James right in the chest. James came, despite himself, sticky and disgusting all over his abdomen.

“Holy shit. I made you come on just my cock.”

Bile rose in James’ throat. He swallowed it down.

“Smile, baby.” Hammer sighed, “I know that was good for you. See, I told you you’d love it.”

When James didn’t respond, Hammer started to get angry. James sensed the heat rising up in his chest. Don’t be stupid. Keep him happy.

“Yeah, of course I did.” James answered brightly. It was easy to slip into being someone else. He couldn’t stand the thought of himself right now. “You’re really… really good. I’m just a little… stunned. Because I enjoyed it so much.” He found himself giggling airily, like some lovestruck floozy. Where was that coming from?

Hammer rolled off of him and lay on the bed, sighing happily. He was floating on a wave of orgasmic bliss and the satisfaction of sweet revenge, in his mind long overdue. Of course he was happy now, but once his head cleared and he could see what he had done, surely remorse would start to set in. Surely.

“That’s good. I’m thinking maybe next time you’ll show a little more enthusiasm.” Hammer said. It was an order. “I wanna see how much you like it.”

Next time… next time. “Ok, I can do that.” James agreed. “I’ll do whatever you want.” Next time. It was all James could think about. The next time this happened to him.

“Good boy.” Hammer reached over and gently stroked the back of his knuckles down James’ cheek. There was no gentleness behind the gesture, however. All James could feel was glee. Sadistic, victorious glee. Hammer was congratulating himself for this.

Surely, surely he would feel bad about it in the morning.

The smugness and delight radiating off of Hammer’s body finally became too much. It felt like James was absorbing something toxic, being so near him. He sat up in bed like a reanimated corpse, restless and agitated.

“I need to get some-” No. Try again. “Can I go out and get some air? Please?”

“Sure babe.” Hammer acquiesced. “Just don’t fly away.” He said it with a smile, but it was a threat. Everything was a threat. Everything was dangerous.

James slid out of bed feeling, perhaps for the first time in his life, ashamed of how naked he was. His clothes were on the bathroom floor. It was like a different person had taken them off. It hurt to stand, to walk. It just hurt.

“Uh, excuse you?” Hammer said, stopping James in his tracks.

What now? What more could he possibly want now? James turned to see him sitting up on his elbows, staring at him.

“Yes, Honey?”

“I’m letting you do something you want. What do you say to that?” His tone was condescending, like he was scolding a child. No, more like he was training a dog.

“Thank you.”

Seemingly satisfied, Hammer laid back down. James wasted no time in scurrying to the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. It felt good to finally be alone. A tear fell down his cheek, but he fought the urge to cry in earnest. He didn’t think he could stop if he started.

It’s fine. These things happen. This time it happened to you. James kept it together as he wiped the… as he wiped off his stomach and the insides of his thighs. Then he gathered his clothes off the floor and, hands shaking, covered himself up again. He was safer now; there was a barrier, however thin, between his skin and Justin Hammer’s hands. It’ll be fine. It’ll be okay. It didn’t seem fine. He could still feel it inside him. He felt where he’d been pried open and then invaded…

You’re ok you’re ok youreokyureokyourokuro

The bathroom floor was still wet. Had so little time really passed since he’d showered? He needed to get up, but he couldn’t force his body to move. It was something like being trapped in a frozen lake, and how you couldn’t swim to the surface because of the shock, so you just drowned. He had hoped that he’d feel better after it was over, but it wasn’t really over, was it? It was never going to be over.

A long time passed before he could stand up and walk out of the bathroom. When he did, he found Hammer already asleep. Good. He didn’t think he could fake his way through any more niceties.

He pictured himself taking a pillow off the bed and pressing it down on Hammer’s face. James was much stronger; he could hold Hammer down with his magic and he wouldn’t be able to fight back. He would just choke (painfully) and die (terrified) and James would get that indescribably terrible feeling he got whenever a soul was extinguished in front of him. He shuddered just thinking about it. No, he wasn’t capable of that, and even if he was, he knew that if Hammer died, everyone infected with his nanites would die too, including James.

James’ coat was hanging in the next room, and he pulled it on and headed for the balcony. The added layer provided him with a little more safety, but didn’t do nearly enough to block the cold wind outside from attacking his damp clothes.

For a while, he just stared at the street below. The people walking down the sidewalk or riding in their cars were too far away for him to read, so he could just imagine that they were all happy and carefree. The couples striding hand-in-hand were all deeply in love, the children were totally safe with parents who had no enemies and never made mistakes, the commuters were on their way home, or maybe to a friend’s house. Nobody had to do anything they didn’t want to do.

James pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket. It was an almost Pavlovian response at this point, smoking after sex. It was normal, felt normal.

That wasn’t sex, his brain supplied that was not sex.

No, but you did have an orgasm.

The balcony was decorated with plastic plants in tacky stone pots, and James hunched over the nearest one and dry heaved until he finally vomited, the effort of it wracking his whole body. It’s not my fault I came. It’s not my fault. I’m not just letting this happen. I don’t have any choice.

He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. Ok. He got all the evil out of him, and it was ok now. He looked down at the now-ruined fake plant and thought, guiltily, of whatever underpaid hotel employee would have to clean it up.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled at nobody as he stood unsteadily.

Leaning against the edge of the balcony, he stuck a cigarette between his lips and lit the end with the tip of his finger. The first inhale settled his nerves immeasurably. Things were bad, yes, but James knew he could find a way out of this. He was smarter than Hammer, all he needed was a plan-

“Prohibited substance detected.” A voice rang in his head.

What?

“Prohibited substance detected.” The voice said again. “Desist or you will be punished.”

“I don’t know what that means.” James snapped at the AI.

“Prohibited substance detected. Desist or you will be punished.”

“What substance?” James hadn’t eaten anything at dinner that he hadn’t been specifically instructed to, hadn’t had anything to drink that he hadn’t been given. What arbitrary rule could he possibly be breaking? Unless… James glanced down at the cigarette he’d been idly puffing on. No. No no no no no…

“Standby for punishment.”

“Wait, wait!” James cried out, but it was too late. Every nerve in his body lit up with intense pain. For a moment, his vision blacked out and he struggled to remain standing.

“Desist or you will be punished again.” The voice instructed as the pain ebbed.

Gazing sadly at the mostly-unsmoked cigarette still in his hand, James incinerated it between his fingers. It was just a cigarette; he didn’t need it, but gee whiz he wanted it. It was the one thing he’d had to look forward to, however small and unimportant it was in the grand scheme of things. Even that had been taken from him. He had nothing. He really, truly had nothing.

Tears started to fall, softly at first. Soon, however, his shoulders were shaking with sobs and he was gasping for air between them. It was loud, ugly crying, but that didn’t matter. Nobody could hear him, anyway.

[smugzayn]

Already Broken - Ch. 3

[chapter 1] [chapter 2]

- - Birmingham, 1919 - -

It’s hard to go about business as normal, but you do because there’s no other choice.  Your angry, red, raw hands burn as they sink into the hot, soapy water. You hiss but grab the sudsy fabric and rub it vigorously against the washboard. Your mum’s easy humming floats through the open doorway. 

It’s been two weeks since that night. You’ve not run into, heard from, or even heard a whisper about Harry or much word about what happened that night. You’ve seen a few Peaky boys around town, the razor blade lined caps a dead give away, but they’ve not paid the slightest attention to you. 

So, you go about the washing, and the delivering, and fussing about with the housewives without anyone the wiser, and the whole time completely irritated with just how boring it all is. 

“It’s four pence, Mrs. Connely. I told you before we ever took the washin’ there’s nothing we can do about grease stains.”

With a basket propped on one hip, a babe on the other, and two more dirty ones hugging her legs, she looks absolutely ragged. You want to barter, but you’re just as desperate for the extra pence as she is. 

“You’ve bleached it, then? Bloody best laundry around and givin’ me back stained clothin’,” she sinks her hand into a pocket and pulls out her coins. She’s mad enough that her thick irish brogue makes it hard to understand anything she’s saying. “Bloody English goin’ about with their rackets on bread, and wash, and oil.”

You nod your head sympathetically, taking the coins she slaps into your hand. 

“Oi’ bugger off then ya’ filthy -”

“Good day, Mrs. Connely,” you slam the door shut behind you, trying not to be too bothered by the filthy insults. It doesn’t muffle the sounds of her spitting under the door. 

The cart wobbles along the old, uneven brick roads and the mundane task makes you want to cry. When did this become your life? When did you settle into this and say okay? This wasn’t your plan, this was mum and dad’s plan - this was their life and the war trapped you in it. 

...

Harry’s door looks different this time, in the last bit of twilight sun. It scares, and excites, and tempts you with thoughts certainly unbecoming of a young woman.

“What am I doing,” you mutter, turning abruptly from where you’re standing in the middle of the street, pushing your empty cart ahead of you. 

Harry’s street looks similar to your own. You figure most houses in Small Heath look about the same. Muddy dirt roads, grey brick row homes, and the suffocating weight of fog from the factories hanging like smoke all around you. It seems to cloud in the air, almost as if you could shoo it all away it’s so thick, pressing down upon you, and pulling you down with the weight of it. 

“Oi!” a gruff voice calls to your back, abruptly stopping the clacking of your boots in the quiet street. It’s suppertime. Every housewife has made the best of whatever meager bread, basket of potatoes, or sliver of meat their husband’s wages could barter. 

“Come back ‘ere,” he calls and when you stay dead in your tracks you hear the sound of his footsteps behind you. 

You’re too afraid to turn around. You think if you tried to run away, he’d let you. He wouldn’t stop you or even call after you, but you can’t - or you won’t. You’re not sure about what one is more true. 

“Laundrymaid?” the voice is close now, calling behind your right shoulder. When his fingertips brush the arm of your dingy blouse you jump. “What are you doing round these parts?” 

You jerk your shoulder away from his touch where he grips you more sturdily this time and take a step away. 

You can’t stand to look at him. You look down the way, at the setting sun behind the looming factory buildings. 

“You’re bored,” he laughs dryly. You can smell the smoke from his cigarette. You know it’s dangling loosely from the plump of his pierced lips. 

You take a step away, but a firm hand wraps around your wrist stopping you once again in your tracks. 

“I’m not bored,” you argue, but it has not bite. “M’just doing my deliveries. Forgot you lived in these -”

“Been watchin’ you,” he interrupts, tugging on your wrist until you turn around to look at him. He’s not wearing his cap, so the long hair sitting on the top of his head blows messily across his forehead and there’s a strand brushed right across the length of his eyelashes. Somehow the musty factory air brings out the gold in his eyes. “Y’didn’t deliver laundry round here. You’re here because of me, because you’re bored,” there’s gravel and truth in his words. “-and I made you feel alive.” 

You laugh dryly this time. 

“Piss off,” you spit and try to pull your hand away but he doesn’t let you. He just grabs on tighter, not letting you run. “It’s none of your business! Is it?” 

He takes a deep breath, inhaling slowly on the cigarette, and easily tossing it to the ground where the red butt quickly dies in the muddy pavement. 

You think he’s going to let you go. Then he pulls you towards him with your captured hand, pulls the cart with the other, and drags you towards his flat along the row. 

“S’not the way I see it,” he grumbles as he drags you along. “You come into my neighborhood, on my street, and stand outside me door for ten minutes and you’re going to get my attention, darling. Whether you’re from the Billie Boy Gang, you’re looking fo’ revenge from your track loss, of you’re the laundrymaid, you stand outside my door and you are askin’ for my attention.” 

“You’re insane,” you hiss, stumbling behind him. 

He shoulders open the heavy oak of his front door and slams it shut behind you. You want to tell him that someone is going to steal the coin bag from your cart outside, but you’re sure no one would dare steal from Harry Styles’ front door. 

“You’ve absolutely no idea what you’re on about. What will the neighbours -” you look around the room; it’s been completely changed. The wood floors have been scrubbed and polished, there is a new table with matching chairs, a plush, white duvet covers a new golden bedframe, and the broken dresser has been replaced by a decorative armour. There’s even a gramophone in the corner - you had only seen a music player once before when you had traveled to London before the war. “You’ve decorated.”

Harry huffs, lighting up another cigarette and scraping a chair along the floorboard before nodding at you to sit. 

“I’m not going to live like some Brummy beggar,” he snorts, flicking out a match. “Working too damn hard fo’ that.” 

“Well aren’t we all?” 

He leans back against the counter, tilting his chin up, and staring down his nose at you. He looks amused or angry - it’s hard to tell the difference. 

“M’wonderin’ why you’re here,” he lets a puff of smoke float into the yellow light hanging above your head. “Round these parts?” 

“Delivering laundry. What else?” 

He doesn’t look like he believes it; you don’t blame him. 

“I can’t help you if y’goin’ to lie,” he mutters, pinching the cigarette between his index and thumb. “Now, tell me what y’doing ‘ere or leave.”

He speaks it so bluntly that you can’t stop the images that run through your mind. You turn 20 this year and your hands are so red, scabby, and achy that they could pass as twice that. You marry off to some butcher or factory worker down the lane and you move into a cheap flat with cracked windows and a drafty fireplace. By five years time you’ll have two kids, another on the way, and the rest of your long life stretched out before you. 

It’s a fate worst than death. 

“I don’t want to be a laudrymaid forever.” The words burst past your lips before you have time to stop them. They’re compelled by something more powerful than thought; they’re compelled by fear, and desperation, and the utter terror of being trapped into something you never wanted. “I don’t - I can’t live this life forever. I won’t.” 

The sizzle of Harry’s cigarette as he breathes mingles with the soft, high-pitched whine of the single burning bulb above the table. He pulls out the chair and sits across from you. 

“You want in?” 

His eyes are bright, alive, excited with whatever the day brings. There’s ambition there and the fresh, lively look of a day that holds danger, and passion, and the very marrow of life. You want to suck it all up for yourself. 

You nod your head, unsure of what it means, but believing that is has to better than what you have now. 

“Yes,” you hold out your hand, it barely shakes as Harry’s reaches out towards you. “I want in.” 

[masterlist]

[steebharringt0n]

cat’s in the cradle

infant | toddler | child | teenager | young adult

a 5-part story exploring the relationship between billy hargrove and his first-born son, adam

pairing: billy hargrove x you

rating: t

a/n: thank you all for the feedback, this has been super fun to write so far and i’m so happy to see it receive so much love, if you’ve missed a part, I have linked them up top! enjoy!

---

part 3 - child

“Ma! I can’t find my baseball glove!”

“Mommy, mommy, mommy!”

“MA! MY GLOVE!”

“MOMMY!”

Your head was going to explode if your children would not shut up.

The Hargrove household was in it’s usual chaos mode. Backpacks and shoes had a permanent place by the front door, the living room wall was adorned with pictures of the kids, pictures of you and Billy, pictures of you, Billy and the kids, and a couple with Max and your parents in them. It was Saturday morning and Adam had his championship little league game. The Sunset Cliff Tigers were on a hot streak and as usual, the four of you were running late because your husband just loved to take his sweet time showering. You were in the kitchen quickly stuffing snacks and drinks for the team, it was your job as the coach’s wife to always bring after game snacks - plus you always brought the best snacks.

10-year old Adam came rushing into the kitchen, his square glasses adorning his face as he frantically searched around the area for his lucky baseball mitt. His blond hair had darkened out as he got older, turning into a dirty blond that matched Billy’s hair. All dressed up in his yellow and white striped uniform, you heard the loud clacking of his baseball cleats roam around the kitchen.

“Adam, you left it in the laundry room” you casually told him, zipping up the large snack bag.

Adam blinked blankly, then quickly turned on his heels and ran over to the laundry room. You heard small puttering steps come into the kitchen, accompanied by a mischievous giggle you knew too well.

“Mommy, mommy, mommy!”

Ah, yes, Ava.

5-year old Ava Grace Hargrove was a carbon copy of you - minus the blue eyes. She had the same hair, same smile, same nose, and she even laughed the same way you did. 

But my god, was she nothing like you. She was everything Billy, and it terrified you.

The mere thought of her turning into an angry, rebellious teenager gave you nightmares. She was nothing like your sweet boy, in fact they were the complete opposite of each other. Ava threw tantrums, Ava hated eating her vegetables, and oh man, don’t even think about reading her a bedtime story - she found them incredibly boring. She was loud, rebellious, and had a knack for getting into trouble.

She got along swimmingly with her Auntie Max.

But she knew how to work her way around you and Billy. She had a look - pretty much the same look that Billy would give to charm his way through situations. She would hang her lower lip in a pout, bat her long eyelashes and suddenly you and Billy were turned into goo.

Billy more than you. She had him wrapped around his finger, she was always able to weasel her way out of getting into trouble when Billy was around. His little princess could do no wrong in his eyes. He was there for every boo-boo, every cold, every flu. He was incredibly protective of her, more than he was with you in high school, and that’s saying something.

With a loud sigh escaping your lips, you turned to face your daughter, “Yes baby?”

Standing barefoot, with her long barbie pajamas, she gave you a grin, “I want my cheerios”

You quickly whipped out a sandwich bag, shoving handful of cheerios and zipping it close.

Being a full time mom, and teacher had its perks. You were a master multi-tasker, simultaneously grading papers, cooking dinner, doing laundry, putting your kids to bed and still find time with your husband? You were like Wonder Woman in Billy’s eyes. 

You approached Ava, crouching down to her size. The bag of cheerios dangled in your hand, Ava went and tried to get a grab at it but you swiped it away before she could. She let out a angry grumble,

“You’ll get your cheerios when you go get dressed - we’re already late Ava Grace, I laid out your clothes for you on your bed, go change.” you ordered, your head gesturing towards her bedroom. Ava nodded at you, letting out a giggle before she scampered upstairs to her lilac colored room.

You scanned around the kitchen, making sure you didn’t forget anything else to pack. You had snacks, drinks, first-aid, sunscreen (yes, you were THAT mom). You heard the thundering footsteps of Billy come down the stairs, “Let’s go! We’re already late!” he shouted.

He poked his head into the kitchen flashing you a smile that still, at 30 years old, made you weak in the knees. “Ready momma?”

He donned on a yellow baseball cap, the words coach written in white, bold letter words. When Adam had expressed interest in little league, Billy jumped at the chance to coach his team. It was pretty much the only thing they had in common. Adam had no interest in cars, no interest in his dad’s lame old music, no interest in surfing, they had nothing in common.

Except for their love of baseball.

Billy and Adam held season passes to the San Diego Padres. They wouldn’t miss a game if their life depended on it. Hell, Billy even closed shop early one day in order to catch a game.

It was their thing, their little club, and your heart would swell when the two of them would come bursting into the house, their hands sticky from eating popcorn, their shirts stained with mustard from the hot-dogs, with large smiles on their faces, drunk on all the fun they had at the game.

Although they both couldn’t be any different, their love for baseball is what kept their bond tight.

“I’m waiting for our little hellraiser to get dressed” you told him, leaning forward on the kitchen island.

“My little Ava? My little princess who can do no wrong?” he dramatically feigned hurt, his hand placed over his heart.

He leaned over the kitchen island, meeting you halfway. Your noses grazed one another as you felt his minty breath on your face.

“What do I get when we win today?” he huskily spoke. After being together for over 10 years, you both were still crazy in love with each other since the first time he laid eyes on you when he walked into Hawkins High. Albeit you both were older, but his features had become more defined, his jaw more chiseled, his shoulders more broad - he still had that ugly tattoo on his shoulder (which both Adam and Ava marveled over) but he was still as sexy as ever.

“Hmm ... I dunno, maybe you’ll get to first base, maybe a little bit of second base ... not sure if you’ll hit a homerun though ... “ you playfully teased.

Billy’s raised an eyebrow, “Is that a challenge, Hargrove?”

“You bet your ass Hargrove”

“Ew, what are you guys doing?”

You quickly placed a peck on his lips as Adam’s voice broke the conversation between the two of you.

You smiled sweetly at your son who was now wearing a matching yellow baseball cap, walking over to him, “Nothing, did you find your glove?”

He pulled his old, ratted glove from under his arm, waving it in the air. “Got it right here, Ava! Let’s go!” he shouted at the stairs.

“I’m coming!” she shouted back, running from out of her room, her [Y/H/C] hair all wild as she carefully walked down the steps. All dressed up in her yellow overalls to match the team color, and white shoes, she looked absolutely adorable and for a second you forgot how much a little spitfire she could be.

“Daddy, daddy, I wore yellow for you!” she exclaimed happily, pushing her hair out of her face as she proudly showed off her yellow overalls. Billy scooped up his daughter, planting kisses all over her cheeks. He rested her on his hip, “I have my own cheerleader, whaddya know!”

You walked over to Billy and Ava and handed her the ziplock bag, she eagerly took it from your hands, and immediately started to shove the cheerios in her mouth.

The four of you quickly ushered out of the house, piling into Billy’s top of the line 1997 Honda CR-V, or as commonly known as, the family car. Billy’s poor old camero was collecting dust in the garage. He rarely had time to drive it around, but he knew one day he would pass on his first baby to Adam.

The drive to the baseball field was quick, but the crowds were already getting large. The Sunset Cliffs Tigers were going up against the Hillcrest Sharks - this was turning out to be a big game. Adam knew how difficult this team would be, but he wouldn’t let it effect his game. He didn’t want to let his father down.

Billy pulled the car into park, and Ava quickly jumped out of her booster seat, running towards the concession stand where you promised to buy her ice cream if she behaved well. You gave both your boys a good luck kiss (and a swat to Billy’s ass for good measure) as they headed down towards the coach’s box to huddle up with the team.

You caught up with Ava, who was having a hard time deciding on whether to choose chocolate or vanilla ice cream. Ultimately she ended up going with both. The two of you then found a spot on the bleachers, right behind the coach’s box as the game started to get underway.

The Tigers started out with a strong lead, hitting home runs left and right, but it was up until the 5th inning that the Sharks were quickly catching up to them. By the time the 9th inning rolled around the game was tied, 5-5, and it was a nail-biter.

Adam was on third base, he was so close to home base that he could feel it under his cleats. He pushed his glasses up, his neck turning towards you and Ava as you happily waved and gave him a thumbs up.

“You got this baby!” you shouted, Ava’s sticky hands that were covered in soft serve ice cream clapped along with you.

Suddenly, Adam got nervous. The crowds, the expectation, it all hit him at once.

He looked up at his father who could clearly read his nerves, and Billy called a time-out.

Adam jogged his way over to the coach’s box, a panicked expression on his face.

“Dad, I can’t do it, I can’t slide”

Billy crouched down to Adam’s height, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “Hey, hey, where did this come from?”

Adam shook his head, “I don’t wanna mess up, I don’t wanna lose.” Adam paused, sucking in a breath, “I don’t want to disappoint you”

Billy’s heart clenched at those words. It was like staring at a mirror when he gazed over at a nervous Adam. The painful memory of Neil berating him for not sliding properly at his own little league game suddenly entered his mind. He remember how terrified he was when Neil grabbed his arm, shaking him violently for not listening - for disappointing him.

For being a pussy.

But Billy isn’t Neil. He is nothing like Neil.

Billy placed both hands on Adam’s shoulder as he hung his head low. Billy lifted his son’s chin up, adjusting his glasses, and sweeping his sweaty hair out of his face.

“Win or lose, slide or not, I am proud of you no matter the outcome. You will never disappoint me Adam.”

Adam’s bottom lip trembled as he nodded at his father. Billy then stood up and engulfed his son in a tight hug. Billy pulled away, adjusting Adam’s yellow baseball cap. With a watery smile on his face, Adam jogged back to third base, a new wave of confidence instilled in him.

Jacob Richardson was up to bat, and as soon as the pitcher threw the ball, Jacob swung with all his might, the loud clack of the ball hitting the bat echoed throughout the field. All eyes were on Adam as he started to run towards home base. His cleats digging in the dirt, his arms woosh-ing by his side. He didn’t have time to think, but he went ahead and took the leap. 

He threw himself onto the ground, feeling the rocks pierce his skin, the dirt burning his arm as he slid towards the base. His glasses were complete dirty, obstructing his vision. He outstretched his arms until the felt the home base plate under him.

“SAFE!”

The crowd roared with excitement. Adam jumped up, swiping his glasses off his face to see his teammates rush towards him. Lifting him up on their shoulders and parading him around. You and Ava ran out to the field, running over to Billy who was being handed the championship trophy. You placed a big sloppy kiss on his mouth, he was grinning from ear to ear as you pulled away from him. Billy then ran out to his team, handing Adam the championship trophy as his teammates placed him on the ground.

“I did it dad! I slid!” Adam beamed, his entire face caked with dirt.

Billy swept Adam in a hug, “You did! and I am so, so proud you”

You and Ava ran out to the field, and as soon as Billy let Adam go from his hug, you pulled your baby boy and held him tight against your chest.

“Oh my baby boy is a little league champion! I am so proud of you!” you exclaimed.

“Ma .. you’re embarrassing me ...” he muttered as you started to clean away at his face. No son of yours was going to look dirty for the championship photo. You felt tears prick your eyes as you stared down at your boy, the pride you felt for him made you feel overwhelmed, and you had a take a second to calm yourself down.

You probably snapped a million pictures of the whole team, but the favorite picture you took was of the three people who you loved the most. Billy holding Ava in his arms, Adam standing right beside them with the championship trophy in his hands, showing it off with a proud smile.

After a long celebration with the team (with lots of cake and pizza) the four of you headed back towards the car. Ava being Ava, consumed way too much cake and had a sugar crash. She ended up passed out on Billy’s shoulder, crumbs of chocolate cake decorated her lips as small snores escaped from her mouth. Billy had his other arm wrapped around your shoulder, Adam walking right beside you with the trophy in his hands.

“So am I getting scoring a home-run tonight?” he cockily spoke in your ear, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

“Wait you guys are playing baseball tonight? Can I play?!” Adam suddenly interjected. Billy was apparently not a good whisperer.

Ava suddenly awoke from her slumber, her eyes wide and alert, “I wanna play too! I wanna play baseball! I wanna score homeruns!” she whined.

Billy’s eyes almost bulged out of his head, and you almost choked, “Ava you are never scoring a homerun” Billy managed to utter out.

This in turn caused Ava to start whining even more, and for Adam beg, to plead to play baseball with his parents.

Luckily they were too young to realize the sexual euphemism that Billy had tried on you.

You jabbed Billy on his side, throwing him a look, “Real smooth Casanova, real smooth”

---

tag list: @the-first-breath-of-autumn-air @justabeautiful-letdown @fab-notfat @tarahell @noodlenerd101 @crazylittlethingcalledobsession @letdecemberburninflames @kake-babe @barbarasbae @delqcour @wearewiththebands @oogachuggaoogaoogachugga

[ayankun]

Ok, if you haven’t already (I say this to be polite, I know you haven’t) go put your eyes on this episode synopsis first.  Why?  Because it’s a good time.  But mostly because I want you to be tangentially familiar with certain topics so I can better explain what happened to my brain while watching this one.

oh, right, this post is a synopsis of the VR Troopers episode 2x13 “Kaitlin Through the Looking Glass” btw

4

3

2

1

WE

ARE

V

R

Now that you’ve got this far, here’s some housekeeping before we start:

I watched this show sporadically as a kid and have very fond memories of it “being better than Power Rangers” but really didn’t know anything about it at the time.  I am watching it as an adult partly due to nostalgia but mostly because I genuinely enjoy it.  Not necessarily because of the reasons they intended, but, you know.

As an adult, with a different understanding of the world than when I was seven, I willfully misconstrue the main characters as being in a polyamorous relationship.  OT3 baybee

On a similar tangent, Ryan “Trooper TRANSform” Steele is obviously trans.  (transgent??)

Hell, maybe they all are.  The more the merrier amirite.

They all call the Professor “Puhfessor,” so I will, too.

Still with me?  Let’s begin.

(first up, though, the title sequence is over a minute long, when really they only needed like, maybe 15 seconds to get the point across.  there is also a ton of footage used that portrays events that never occur and also the song is not catchy enough to warrant any of this and I love it)

So in Ryan’s flashback intro, he muses about how, as a kid, he felt the need to prove himself.  He expresses this to his dad by asking when he’ll get a black belt, and his dad is a good supportive dad who tells him:

“It’s not the belt that’s important, son,”

Ryan’s dad says trans rights.

Ryan’s VO goes on to say "My dad taught me that it’s not outward appearances that really count, and that was an important lesson that would come in handy time and time again.”

Ryan really loves memories of his dad.

Which I think is a sweet lesson to learn when you’re young and other youngs (and olds) are going to give you crap about how you look, but it’s also hilariously phrased considering how superficial the concept of “outward appearances” is to this episode.

So we jump into things down at the ... Voice Underground Daily idk what the newspaper is called, I’m just trying to read the sign on the wall tbh.  We’re at Kaitlin’s place of business, and Woody (I think his name is Woody LOLOL how many episodes have I seen) shows Kaitlin this front page article which appears to have the headline:

ZIKTOR DEFEATED AT CITY HALL -- NO TOXIC WASTE DUMPING AT CROSS WORLD PARK

Ok, a couple of things.

Kaitlin and Percy are just ... chilling out at the copy machine like they’re friends and this is where the cool kids hang out.

Which can’t possibly be true because the actual cool kids are there in the back, just reading newspapers like Actual Cool Kids do.

They’re an indie paper, right?  How can they afford to print headlines that verbose?  ... Or full color glossy, for that matter

THEY ACCIDENTALLY PLAYED THIS LIKE THEY WERE EXCITED ABOUT THE NEWS ITSELF AND NOT ABOUT KAITLIN DOING A GOOD JOB ON AN IMPORTANT FRONT PAGE PIECE

Environmentalism was No Joke in kids’ media in the 90s.  I specifically remember learning the word “toxic” from a Power Rangers episode where Billy tested the lake water.  I literally had to look it up.

and they say you can’t learn nuffink from tv

Anyway, part of the excitement is that this article is the follow up to an expose of Ziktor, also authored by Kaitlin, which inspired the city officials to veto his waste-dumping proposal.  So we’re proud of Kaitlin for doing a good job at journalism and for protecting the world!

JB does what JB does best and attempts to arrange a date.

The line is, “Hey, let’s celebrate!  With lunch!  At Hamburger Hutch” but I guess someone at Netflix got lazy for a second.

I forgot to mention, in my HC he’s our token ace (as my favorites often are), so he tends to go overboard with the romance.  You don’t have to compensate for anything, JB!

Kaitlin appreciates the gesture.

But then Woody interjects and I let my adult sense of humor get the better of me...

come on, the man’s name is Woody I can’t be the only one with my mind in the gutter can I

Also the line is “I don’t want you boys filling up my star reporter” so what am I supposed to thINK

--WITH JUNK FOOD.  Dodged an FCC bullet there.

So I just now gave it 2 seconds thought and the discrepancies with the subtitles probably have something to do with the expectation that children would be watching this show and can’t read that fast.  BOY DO I NOT FIT THE DEMOGRAPHIC

Ok well.

Where Woody’s going with this is that he wants to impose a health shake on Kaitlin for godknowswhy.  But it’s all good because as he todders off to get started on what will surely be a monstrosity, we get this ADORABLE moment where Kaitlin tries to get JB to come to her rescue.

She just runs up and grabs him.  I’m all a-flutter.

But JB is of no help.  Instead, he calls dibs on her fries.

There’s a weird, under-baked joke going on here that seems to be rooted in the idea that if one is dieting then others benefit from this self-sacrifice by gleefully picking up the slack?  Anyway Kaitlin’s not on a diet?  This vitamin shake angle literally came out of nowhere?  Is against her will???

Just one burger, please.  Protein style :<

et tu, Jeb??

Anyway, this weird exchange just passes the time to get Woody all set up.  He turns on the blender and THE WHOLE WORLD STARTS SHAKING. 

Percy runs over to be the hero, demanding Woody turn the blender off, while everyone else just rumbles around looking distraught and not practicing anything resembling safe earthquake response.  Percy manages to get a hold of the blender, lifting it off the counter, and -- you guessed it -- the lid comes off and purreed-carrot-baby-food-looking goop gets all over his nerdy white button up.

The shaking stops.  Percy’s very proud of himself (and disdainful of the others who didn’t come to his heroic conclusion).  End scene.

I’ll be real.  At this juncture, literally thought that the blender HAD caused a natural disaster, and it was just a wacky 90s gag that went on for far too long.

More on this story as it develops.  We’re moving on.

How many cities in the world do you think have ominous buildings in them that aren’t secret headquarters for supervillains?

Our good buddy Karl Ziktor is reading -- wait for it -- Kaitlin’s article.  It has a headline so long they had to dedicate the full front page for it.  I’m pretty sure that’s not how newspapers are commonly formatted.

That is literally just a couple of newspaper clippings taped to a big piece of paper.

Oh he’s mad.  He tells Juliet all about his evil plan for revenge, which is to “steal her virtual image and create a second Kaitlin Starr [that serves him]”.

Same, Juliet.

Off that yikes, a henchwoman comes in to appraise Ziktor of the status of phase one, which is underway.  A so-called Stingbot is “in the basement of the Underground Voice” so that’s what the paper’s name is, anyway.

Anyway so Stingbot was the one responsible for the earlier tremors.  And, yeah, I mean I know they were new cobbling stories together from old footage, but What The Hell do “sting” and “earthquake” and “outward appearances” have in common?

And that is how a Stingbot do.

My question is partially answered, in that Stingbot’s earthquakes are a distraction so that some skugs can plant the “Virtual Mirror Transmitter” on Kaitlin, which is the nefarious device that will create the aforementioned Kaitlin-2.  Bold of him to assume that just because Kaitlin’s a woman that she 1) carries a purse 2) stores a mini pink mirror in the purse 3) will look at herself in the mirror unprovoked.

It’s such a wildly twentieth-century concept.  Here in good ol’ 2020, I, for one, have not looked in a mirror in months.

Ugh more gross than this use of outdated stereotypes is this weird tongue thing Ziktor does while almost literally salivating after his upcoming revenge.  You’ll have to go see it for yourself, I’m not going to watch it again to cap it.

(This guy gives his 200% to this role, though.  What a legend. RIP Gardner Baldwin)

So Ziktor blue-skadoos into his virtual stronghold and gets an update from his generals.  There’s this new guy that I’ve already also forgotten the name, and since he has a human face, there’s a lot of awkward cuts between him and his Japanese counterpart in the footage that’s already ten years old at the time.  It probably looked great.  I was an adult before I found out that Rita Repulsa was the original Japanese actress in the original dubbed Japanese footage.

Anyway, he looks great.

I think I read that for season 2 they had access to and/or recreated the costumes used in/matching the source material, so there’s a noticeable uptick in cool-looking sets with American actors wearing cool-looking costumes, like this one.

You said it.

That’s about it for this scene, but before we go to commercials, Grimlord says this nonsense:  “I will destroy Kaitlin Starr with the one weapon she cannot defend against -- herself.”

Confirmed: Kaitlin is a deadlier weapon than, say, a homing missile.  (she can defend herself from those)

Ok we’re back at the Underground Voice and there’s still an earthquake going on.  Also, and let me tell you this with a large amount of regret of my life-choices, I’ve been sitting here for just about two hours and we are only five minutes into the episode (and that includes the minute long opening credits.)

Let’s roll!

JB gets off the phone with who knows who, having learned that there’s no earthquake registering anywhere, it’s a localized mysterious incident.  Ryan recommends they clear the building “just to be safe.”  My boy, why wasn’t that everyone’s first thought?  Are they really just standing around waiting to be told?  We had drills for this for a reason!

(Actually, I’m not sure where Cross World City is located.  Maybe they’re not on a fault line and do not actually do drills)

In any case, there’s a brief PSA where Woody wants to collect his valuables to take with him, and everyone has to inform him that that’s ill-advised behavior in an evacuation scenario.

He responds in classic Woody nonsense, by putting on a captain’s hat and insisting he’ll go down with his ship.  AND OUR BOY JB SAYS

He’s still thinking about that date.

LOOK.  There’s no rule that says asexuals can’t make dirty jokes.  Because we can and do.  Let me have this.

So our heroes herd everyone out of the building and then stay behind to call the Puhfessor.  Just as they get him on the computer, the earthquake stops. 

It’s not all good news, though.  The Puhfessor taps into some kind of impossible CC feed and they watch Stingbot undermining the structural integrity of the building.  Stingbot, by the way, has one of those creepy child laughs that is insane.  It’s so good.

Ryan decides to check out the basement himself while Kaitlin and JB keep everyone else outside.  He finds some creepy janitors down there, and they head on up like creeps normal janitors.

Maybe they were just hotboxing down there.

Stingbot’s also in the basement!  Who knows what he was doing down there, because

Murder hornet, colorized, 2020

Which is a weird thing to say until you remember the slight, throwaway “yummy!” he says earlier while drilling into the building.  I had forgotten it in the 40 seconds it took for me to get from that moment to here.

Ryan insults Stingbot’s outward appearance, which is odd because I thought he learned that lesson as a kid.  Either way, it’s time to

WE ARE V R

Only to spend about half a second on recycled footage just to have Stingbot go “lol, later loser.”  Because those perfectly normal janitors are upstairs swapping Kaitlin’s purse mirror with the evil thing.

Can you imagine trying to pull a stunt like this today?

Outside, things have calmed down enough that JB thinks Ryan’s got it under control.  He’s gonna go back in “to see if the building’s safe enough to reenter.”  I know he knows it’s not a real earthquake, but also I don’t think I’d trust a non-professional to assess my office’s structural integrity.

Kaitlin’s going to join him, which causes Percy to pipe up, Pavlovianly ... just to chicken out and stay put.  GOOD JOB PERCY.  USING YOUR HEAD FOR ONCE I SEE.

(kids, don’t volunteer to check that a building is safe after an incident where its safety may be in question.  it is not cowardly to leave it to Someone Who Knows What They’re Doing)

So JB and Kaitlin come back in to find the Normal Janitors shadily stealing a floppy disk from Kaitlin’s desk.  (kids, a floppy disk is a real object that looks a lot like the “save” icon)   BUT OF COURSE THEY’RE SKUGS SO JB AND KAITLIN HAVE TO THROW DOWN.

Let’s just say there’s a good thing they have an earthquake to blame all this property damage on.

JB’s a little snippy.

All he wanted was to go to lunch with his girlfriend and boyfriend.

The gold skugs do their fusion dance thing and turn into the oni-mask skug variant, which I’m assuming is a constraint of these later episodes where they used footage from a show that did not have the gold ones in.

FLIRTY BATTLEFIELD BANTER UGH I SHIP IT

Once that’s handled, we find out what Ryan’s been up to in the basement by himself this whole time.

Um.  I’m not touching that one with a 10-foot ... wait.

Ohhhh

Ryan heads back up and swaps notes with JB and Kaitlin.  Stingbot said that its work was done, so what exactly was it trying to accomplish?  Ryan then runs from there outside to check on everyone else.

Kaitlin then decides she needs to freshen up, which is something I don’t recall her ever needing or wanting to do after any other natural disaster/fight portrayed on this show.

But look how cute they are with their mutual post-fight shoulder-pat.  JB even gives her this cute little look as she darts off.  He is smitten.

He is smote.

Kaitlin gets her mirror out of her purse, as planned, and checks herself out.  You know.  Like how woman do.

She gets it.

This is it!  Grimlord’s chance to strike!  He will have his revenge, Juliet, just you wait!

for great justice

We are treated to a brief bit of delightful 80s Japanese sci-fi, all flashing lights and chonky beep boop buttons.  It works!  A tastefully gendered laser light shoots out of Kaitlin’s mirror and STEALS HER FACE OFF HER FACE

FACE/OFF

The experience seems highly unpleasant, but she’s mostly ok...

But wait, who’s this ...

It’s not really the Mirror Universe unless someone gets a goatee.

Kaitlin’s freaked out, but we don’t have time to see her process what it was that just happened.  More beep boop 80s lights (seizure warning much), and the virtual replica Kaitlin is 3D printed in Grimlord’s lair.

lol he’s got a play date

So this Kaitlin is the same exact person as real Kaitlin, with one major difference.

So this got dark, right?  This is different from that time they cloned Ryan, because that was just a DNA clone man baby with evil sunglasses; this is actually Kaitlin, the person, just with some programming differences, who’s gonna go back out there and hurt her boys herself.

Needless to say, Grimlord is delighted.

Check out that disgruntled wall snake, tho.  “I thought I was your lovely child”

Now Grimlord’s plan is to send Kaitlin into the wild with a device called the “fissicator” which is a “sTUn ray!!” (you have to hear him say it, it’s so good) as well as a thing that will reprogram the Trooper’s “contact disk.”

I didn’t mention it earlier, but that’s the disk that the janitors skugs were trying to steal, and it was also how Kaitlin called up the Puhfessor on her work computer.  I’m pretty sure we’ve never seen it before and we never see it again.  It’s Not A Thing.

So Kaitlin goes to Tao’s, where Ryan’s just chilling there by himself.  I guess everyone was okay after the earthquake, then.  (It is unclear how much time has passed)  Maybe it’s been hundreds of years, because Ryan acts like he’s not sure who she is.

Wait, hold on.  I did NOT pay close enough attention the first time, but -- either it’s much later the same day and/or they missed a scene.  They’re still wearing the same clothes ... and Ryan says he thought she was heading (back?) to the paper ... and then she says ....

Ryan.exe has stopped executing

Wait so WHAT.  What workout.  We have not been to Tao’s yet this episode.  ???

It’s really just a ruse to get Ryan to fight her, though.  But also.  Why need ruse?  Evil clone?  Just attack tho, right?

But also no NO.  DONT attack.  We’ve already seen JB be beat up by his evil clone boyfriend.  It’s rough.  (spoiler alert, this one’s gonna be rough, too)

So Ryan tries to let her down easy by saying he doesn’t have time -- and I can’t tell with this video quality, but I don’t think he’s wearing a watch but he does the “look at wrist” technique and it’s p good.

Kaitlin-2 refuses to be let down easy.

Them’s fightin words

Ryan ends up splayed out on the desk but seriously, now is not the time.

He rightfully wants to know what’s up, but she keeps taunting him to fight her.  She takes the first shot, which he dodges and blocks before disengaging.  Remember, kids, just because somebody picks a fight with you doesn’t mean you don’t have any other options!

She won’t stop coming for him, though, so he gets her arms pinned so he can try talking her down again. 

This technique backfires.

no more mr nice kaitlin

So in the other clone episode, this scene was staged in a room full of people, and even though JB was blindsided, he and Ryan are ostensibly evenly matched.  It wasn’t nice for JB, but at least someone was there to break up the fight.

This time though, Ryan’s been gently if firmly trying to diffuse a confusing situation where someone without his training is behaving irrationally and is going to get both of them hurt.  So far his attempts to de-escalate have failed, and there is no deus ex intervention incoming.

AND THEN she goes and plays the superpowers card on him.  Black belt or no, the whole point of having the Trooper alter ego is that they come with amazingly OP combat powers capable of defeating all manner of monsters.

And Kaitlin, a very very very dear close friend has just walked up out of nowhere and dropped a nuke on him.

Okay, so she throws him over a table, it’s the principle of the thing.

This overkill maneuver knocks him out cold.  She lifts Ryan’s Trooper communicator (so he can’t call for help when he comes to -- omg this is so chilling) and then uses the fissicator to call Grimlord for further instructions.

Gotta catch ‘em all

New Kaitlin, who dis?

So he now wants her to steal the disk, reprogram the disk, and use the reprogrammed disk to break all the Trooper computer stuff.  She reads his order back like

Close enough, I guess.

She gleefully moves on to her next task, leaving a helpless Ryan struggling and failing to regain consciousness.  :<<<<<<<

At the paper, real Kaitlin gets a message from JB on her little Trooper video phone and secretly Trooper TRANSforms out of there from inside the darkroom.  This was the point where I realized they had different ones!  Hers and JB’s are red and white, while Ryan’s (that just got stole) is red/blue.

Also, you can just see under all those crayons, but that’s the “contact disk” that Kaitlin-2 is coming for.  (how many crayons does a professional journalist need, anyhow?)

So there’s a joke in there were Percy sees Kaitlin go into the darkroom and then Kaitlin-2 walks in, and then also when he checks the darkroom, it’s empty.

Oh, so that means Kaitlin-2 successfully steals the contact disk, btw.

Back at Tao’s, Ryan has woken up and some how his backpack has, like, crawled down to see if he’s okay?  Which is helpful because that’s how he is able to quickly identify that on top of assault, there’s been a robbery.

I hope she doesn’t delete my save files

And this was the moment (right now, doing the caps) that I realized the little phones are called VRVTs!

But seriously, imagine being knocked out cold by a loved one, with no reason, no hint at an explanation, and not only has she left you for dead, she’s taken your phone so you can’t call for help.  He has no idea that she’s an evil clone!!!!  This is a real tragedy of a thing.  A gutting betrayal.

It looks like Ryan has his own contact disk, tho?  And he uses this on Tao’s PC to call up the Puhfessor.

spelled it rong

Just as a note, this subtitle comes up WAY too soon, so for a couple of frames it just looks like some kind of meme.  A++

 Ryan starts to relate his traumatic experience to the Puhfessor, but luckily he’s cut off with the good news that his “sensors” somehow correctly identify Ryan’s assailant as Kaitlin’s virtual double.

geez, you guys, look at how Ryan deflates hearing this.  I mean, it’s not great that he was probably concussed, but it’s a relief that his world still makes some kind of sense.

poor bb

Also, you can’t tell as much here, but there’s a really subtle punch in as the moment progresses, bringing us closer and making the moment more intimate as he grapples with this new information.  There’s a lot of dumb half-assed stuff in this show, but I gotta call attention to the stuff that is excellent for any era.

Also it’s so efficient from a time-management perspective.  Just look at the opening shot, which was a medium type establishing shot so you can picture Ryan in the space, but the PC’s right there for both the viewer and Ryan to reach.  Then we slowly zoom in, which serves double duty in that it provides the appropriate emotional impact, and at the end we’re on a nice close up of Ryan as he jumps into action.  Three shots with just one set up (and probably done in one take, with room to splice the PC shots in)!  I’m very pleased with this.

Down to brass tacks

The Puhfessor ominously tells him that they have their own troubles and we go straight from there into some source footage of them fighting some skugs and what I think is General Ivar.

After about three seconds of that, we cut back to the lab, where Ryan busts in on Kaitlin-2 just as she’s hacking up a storm.

im in ur base, haxxoring ur mainframez

Kaitlin-2 shows him the contact disk, which is now “encoded with a self-destruct program” that she’s going to use to overheat the lab’s power core and destroy like all the things.  Ryan is noticeably concerned, but Kaitlin-2 points the fissicator at him to get him to stay in line.

Ok ok ok ok so here’s where we get to the point where, when I watched this today, I fully turned away from whatever it was I was doing to go wwwwwwwwwwwwtf

Kaitlin-2 has a disk that will blow up the lab -- and there’s nothing Ryan can do to stop her--

huh

bruh what are you

bro srsly what

is happening

You’re trying to tell me that Ryan “killed his own clone with no ragrets” Steele is trying to make an emotional appeal to this clone in order to undermine her sense of purpose?

...did she ever think that Grimlord cared about her?  As a person?  I feel like that wasn’t in the contract when she was 3D printed with the sole purpose of serving her dark master, and she shouldn’t have any emotional reaction to this assumed expectation being challenged.

And .... did they ... did they read my other post?  The one about wanting to keep the clone around ..... ??????

what is happening right now

Ryan leans hard into this “embrace your humanity” tactic and has the Puhfessor show them a live feed of JB and Kaitlin’s fight.

“...She sure could use our help...”

wait for it

When she balks, he gives her one last over the top inspirational blurb that despite of whatever it was Grimlord did to her, she’s still the same (good) person as Kaitlin.

It starts to sink it.

(also just check out these sweet eyelines, you can tell that the screen they’re watching is slightly to his left,  sort of behind her to her right, which makes sense!)

He keeps at it.

Looks like it’s working?  She starts to reconsider her whole existence ...

...considers Kaitlin’s ...

... moment of truth ...

And it works!

BUT IT DOESN’T STOP THERE YOU GUYS

“NOW GO HELP HER” RYAN COMMANDS

AND

OMG

CLONE KAITLIN-2 IS ALL

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I guess, I mean, obviously Ryan’s evil clone did that whole thing where he stole Ryan’s virtualizer and started flying the Skybase, so if this Kaitlin is the same as the other Kaitlin then obviously she’d be able to do this, too.

But like!  She was the main villain until like four seconds ago, somebody who did Ryan dirty.  Just another of Grimlord’s nefarious tools of warfare.  And Ryan, a man who’s killed his own clone before, who took a beating from her only hours prior, is suddenly the bigger man who is capable of seeing past all that in order to turn an agent of his enemy.  And to go do his job, no less!

This has never happened before.  This show’s always been kill or be killed.  There’s a good reason for this, and we’ll get to that in one moment.

But I like to think Ryan learned from his mistake.  He didn’t even try to to connect to his evil clone.  He just got beat up and went back for revenge.  (I’m looking back at my caps for that episode, and it seems it was the Puhfessor’s idea to kill the evil clone, and maybe there was a MacGuffin reason why it was The Only Way, I forget.)  Maybe he thought long and hard about the repercussions of his actions -- maybe he thought that, had he been able to better understand his evil self, that maybe that shadow version of him would have liked to have been given the benefit of the doubt?

At the end of the day, I can think whatever I want.  But why we never get any other reformed villains until now is only because

It’s almost like they recycled footage from a different show(s) and just had to roll with the punches.

So then JB and the Kaitlins fight some skugs and there’s a big explosion and a lot of jumping.  JB and Kaitlin get caught up with the SparkNotes version of who tf extra Kaitlin is and then they fight Stingbot, teleport to a quarry, you know, all the everyday stuff.

Back at the lab, Ryan’s feverishly trying to undo Kaitlin-2′s handiwork and keep the core from melting down.  Can he do i-- well yes.  He can and he does do it.  Then he TROOPER TRANSFORMs away and ... flies off to fight ... some jets ... I guess? 

pew pew pew

In the quarry, JB is going toe to toe with Stingbot.  Stingbot has some cute little wasp drones that electrocute everyone.  They’re having a good time out there.

it’s super effective

Ryan shoots some more jets ... JB dislodges his wasp and slices one off a Kaitlin with a sword ... the third one just .. pops off on its own *shrug*

Stingbot shoots some acid (oh he did that before, too, in the basement, but it was irrelevant) which evaporates a boulder ... Kaitlin goes back to her battlefield quips but they’re not nearly as flirty as the last time ...

JB gets out his lightsaber and GOES TO TOWN on the remaining bad guys.  That thing makes the BEST wvungwvungwvung sounds, just btw.

And that’s it!

Almost.

Grimlord spends his obligatory seven seconds ruing the day he ever met a VR Trooper and swearing revenge.

ya it’s called being a parent

Turns out he still hopes that the two Kaitlins will destroy each other!  Very optimistic guy, our Grimlord.

Back at ol’ HQ, JB and the Kaitlins stroll in and explain the sitch to Jeb.  Kaitlin-2 seems fully reformed!

yee gurrl

But oh-hoho, does the Puhfessor HATE clones.

buzzkill, emphasis on kill

So it turns out, and I quote, “two Kaitlins cannot exist in the same reality.”  I guess technically she’s not a clone, but a virtual double from the mirrorverse/VR land, so that kind of makes some sort of sense.  This dimension is too small for the both of you!

The stakes are that if the two Kaitlins are not rejoined within 24 hours, both Kaitlins will byte the dust. 

Oh no!!

This was the point where, having a pretty good internal clock as well as a refined sense of story structure, I literally smirked at the screen thinking “soooooooo what.  you have like two minutes left and you’re gonna fix it in time for the credits.  overdramatic stakes are overdramatic.”

AND

THEN

THE

KICKER

OH-HOHO

I WAS

SO WRONG

SAME THO?1

:D

[ughseoks-main]

when the party’s over

peter parker x reader

requested by @merryspidermas​: peter p comforting an anxious stark reader when her anxiety acts up at one of her dad's parties??

word count: 3.3k

warnings: lots of talk about anxiety, rude people rip

a/n: hi this isn’t based off of billie eilish’s song even though i stole the title lmao!! it’s been a hot minute since i’ve posted so here y’all go!

You hated your dad’s parties.

Ever since you were a kid, you’d always dreaded having to attend them. Whenever one popped up, you’d try to lie and say you were sick, or maybe you just had too much homework. However, Tony always saw right through your lies, telling you that you needed to go and staying home wasn’t an option.

He never quite understood just how much stress the parties actually caused you. Every time you stepped into the party room, you had to put on a facade, always struggling to maintain it. Before you knew it, you’d have to leave the event early, having made yourself sick with anxiety and stress. Now, you knew that telling Tony about this was always an option, but you never did because you didn’t want him to be disappointed in you or think you were weak.

People always assumed that since you were a Stark, you’d inherited your dad’s iconic charisma, the extrovert in you always shining through. However, they were often surprised to find that you were just like your mom; soft spoken and shy of the spotlight, yet incredibly intelligent all the same. This made the academic aspects of school easier, but not so much the social ones.

Kids at school were always trying to befriend you, but only because of your famous last name. At this point in your life, you were an excellent people reader. You could spot a fake friend from a mile away. Due to this, you ended up having a very small circle of friends, only associating with people who liked you for you. (And there were very few people who fit into that description.)

Recently, school had been extremely stressful for you. Your semester finals were coming up, and even though you always aced your tests and excelled in every class, the actual process of test taking took an enormous toll on your mental health. The next day, you had your biology final, and all you wanted to do was sit in your room and study.

Of course, you wouldn’t get the chance to, since you had to go to your dad’s party that night.

You didn’t expect this party to be as terrible as most of them were, since your boyfriend Peter would be there with you. Even then, you still didn’t want to go. It would be just another room full of stuck up people wanting to compare you to Tony, always waiting for you to slip up. Even if they were friends of your father, they still couldn’t be trusted.

They’d all ask you about school and your aspirations, and somehow nothing was ever good enough for them. You could probably tell everyone that you’d found the cure for cancer and they’d all just shrug. After all, that’s nothing compared to your father’s work, right?

All of these thoughts were flying through your brain when suddenly your phone ran from where it sat on your nightstand, the sound shaking you from your daydreams. Taking a glance at the screen, you saw that it was Peter calling you.

Letting out a huge breath, you pulled your covers up to your chest and held the phone up to your ear, “Hey Pete, what’s up?”

“Hey Y/N! I was wondering, what should I wear to the party? I don’t want to look out of place but I also don’t want to be too dressed down-”

Oh, you almost forgot to mention. This was Peter’s first party with Tony Stark.

“-and since you’ve been before, I thought maybe you could help me?”

You could almost picture his puppy dog eyes as he asked you the question, “I would, Pete, but I should probably keep on studying for my test tomorrow since I won’t get a chance to study tonight.”

You sounded tired and stressed all at once, setting off alarms in Peter’s head.

“Y/N? Are you feeling okay?” he questioned, concern evident in his voice.

“Yeah, I just don’t enjoy the parties,” you waved your hand around as if he could see it, “It’s nothing, really.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he seemed genuine, but you knew how excited he was for this and you didn’t want to bring him down.

“Nah, it’s okay. Have fun getting ready!”

“Okay, if you’re sure,” he sounded unsure, but he didn’t want to push you for information, “Call me if you need anything.”

“Thanks Pete, I will.”

After a few more hours of studying, your alarm went off, signaling that it was time for you to get ready. Groaning, you rolled out of your bed and hit the floor with a thump, taking a few moments to lay on the ground and contemplate your existence before getting up and going over to your closet.

Digging through your closet, it took you about half an hour before you found a dress you were happy with, smiling softly to yourself as you looked it over. It was a vintage looking yellow dress with cap sleeves, tieing at the waist with a yellow bow in front before flaring out around your hips. You finished off the outfit with a pair of black suede ankle strap heels, a small bow decorating the strap where it tied at the ankle.

Now, for your favorite part of the night.

Spinning around your room in your finished outfit like a ballerina before you went downstairs was always the highlight of these parties and something that you never failed to do. It let you enjoy the feeling of dressing up without having to deal with the pressure of eyes all around the room glued to you, judging your every move.

As you began to twirl, you closed your eyes and stretched your arms out as you smiled softly, the air rushing by your face. Suddenly, you yelped, feeling two hands grab around your waist. Quickly opening your eyes, you found yourself looking up at your boyfriend, a smile plastered onto his face as his eyes searched yours.

“Care to dance?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye, lightly grasping your hand when you nodded your head yes.

He lifted your arm carefully above your head, letting go of your waist so you could twirl two times before spinning back into him. You placed your hands around his neck as he put his back on your waist, slowly swaying with you in the comfortable silence.

Your hands moved from his neck to his back, laying your head on his chest as his arms encircled you into a warm embrace.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered into your hair, placing a kiss on top of your head as you closed your eyes and listened to the sound of his heart beating. You could’ve stayed in his arms for hours, but eventually the time came to go down to the party.

“We should probably head down there,” he smiled at you, sticking out his arm for you to take, “Ready?”

The situation was almost funny to you. After all, you’d been attending these parties for your entire life while Peter was only attending his first one; yet he was the one comforting you right now.

“As I’ll ever be,” you took a deep breath and placed your hand in his arm, following him down to the party room.

When you opened the doors, you felt like Cinderella entering the ballroom for the first time. However, instead of awestruck stares, you were met with harsh, judgemental ones. Gulping, you smiled down at the crowd before walking down the steps, your hand still on Peter’s arm.

“It’s so lovely to see you tonight, Miss Y/N,” a familiar face smiled at you, bowing down in front of you comically as you lightly slapped his arm.

“Cut it out, Bruce,” you laughed before straightening your face into a small frown, “Actually, I take that back. Please do continue to treat me like royalty. Will you be so kind as to fetch me some water, good sir?”

“Why of course, Miss,” he managed before breaking out into laughter with you, opening up his arms for a hug, “Come here, you.”

Letting go of Peter, you ran up to Bruce and squeezed him tightly, a warmth spreading in your chest as you did so. Bruce was like a second father to you, and his hugs never failed to calm your nerves on big nights like these. He knew how stressed and anxious Tony’s parties made you and he always did his best to make you comfortable.

“Doctor Banner!” somebody called from behind him, prompting him to release you from the hug.

“Well, duty calls,” he shrugged, holding up a finger to the man to signal that he’d be over there in a moment, “Let me know if you need anything at all, okay?”

“I will. Thank you, Bruce,” you gave him a small smile, barely even trying to disguise your disappointment that he had to leave you so soon, “Now go, before that man over there explodes with excitement.”

He shot you a wink before turning to the jittery man, giving him a signature smile and handshake. You turned back around to face Peter, lacing your fingers with his and laying your head on his shoulder.

“You two are close, huh?” he observed, giving your hand a small squeeze.

“Yeah, he’s basically my second dad,” you began, stopping when you made eye contact with a woman across the room.

You could tell by the look in her eye that she’d been waiting to catch your attention, your heart beating faster  and faster when you saw her wave goodbye to the person she was talking to and start to make her way towards you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Peter asked upon noticing your elevated heart rate. Before you could answer, the woman reached her destination, sticking out the hand that wasn’t holding a glass of champagne for you to shake.

“Oh, it’s so nice to finally meet you, Miss Y/N,” she gave you a toothy smile, shaking your hand a few times before letting go, “My name is Charisse Kensington.”

She glanced at Peter once, her face falling for a millisecond as she scanned him up and down. You felt your blood begin to boil, knowing that exact look. Judgement.

“How are you, Ms. Kensington?” you asked politely, putting on the facade that you always used during these events.

“I’m doing marvelous, thank you so much for asking, dear,” she paused for a moment, taking another glance at Peter, who stood uncomfortably by your side, “May I ask who this…. gentlemen… is that you’ve brought with you?”

You forced a smile onto your face, speaking through your teeth, “His name is Peter, and he’s my boyfriend.”

“Oh,” she sighed, not even trying to hide her disapproval, “Your boyfriend… how lovely…”

You felt his hand tighten around yours, clearly trying to calm you down while also keeping his own temper in check.

“Yes, I love him very much,” you gave her one last smile before pretending to hear somebody else call your name, “I’m so sorry, I have to go. Maybe we can continue this conversation at a later time?”

Her eyes snapped back to you, that same fake smile lighting up her face once more, “Of course, dear. Tell your father hello for me!”

Giving her a small wave goodbye, you let your smile drop as soon as your back was turned. Quickly walking across the room, you pulled Peter into a corner, turning to face him once you were both hidden away from the guests.

“What- what’s wrong with me?” Peter asked you, the hurt evident in his eyes, “Is it m-my suit? It’s Uncle Ben’s, May and I thought that it would be okay-”

“And it is, Peter, it is,” you gushed, placing your hands lightly on his cheeks, “It’s perfect. So many of those people out there are snobby, rich assholes who only associate themselves with people who could easily buy their own islands. There is nothing wrong with you, Peter, not a single hair on your head.”

It absolutely destroyed you to see Peter so hurt by the was that the lady had treated him. You knew he had thick skin, but he had come in here so excited to actually attend a real Stark party. Of course, some rich snob had to try to ruin it for him. You were used to all of the judgement and scrutiny by them, but Peter didn’t deserve to go through it too. Just thinking of that woman made your blood boil, and while you wished that you could go out there and give her a piece of your mind, you knew it would look bad on both you, your father, and Peter, most likely causing a huge news story as well.

“You gonna be okay?” you asked him softly, pinching his cheeks slightly to illicit a giggle out of him.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he nodded his head firmly, “I won’t let people like them ruin my night.”

Smiling at his confidence, you headed back out into the crowd with him, bracing yourself for a night full of repeated encounters like the first. The rest of the night was pretty much the same as usual. People came up to you and asked you the same questions you were always asked, your answers on autopilot.

As the night progressed, you could feel your stress and anxiety levels growing, despite Peter being with you for pretty much the entire time. Everything around you was somehow becoming louder and louder to the point where you could barely even hear Peter as he spoke his next words.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick,” he smiled down at you, “Wait here, I’ll be back in a sec!”

You pressed your lips together and nodded, watching him as he disappeared around the corner. The seconds dragged on and on as you stood alone, trying to calm yourself and steady your breathing. Bruce was nowhere to be seen and without Peter there to hold your hand, you had nothing to ground you.

The sounds were still escalating in volume, the thickness in the air pressing down on your chest. Every little whisper, clink of a cup, or footstep down a hallway rang in your ears and there was nothing you could do to quiet them. It was all you could do to keep yourself from pressing your hands to your ears to block out the sound.

You tried your hardest to wait for Peter to return, but you just couldn’t take it any longer. Heels clicking against the floor, you sped over to a set of double doors, shoving them open and closing them as quickly as you could behind you. A breeze of chilly autumn air gusted across your face, whipping your hair around as you finally exhaled.

Slowly making your way to the edge of the balcony, you placed your shaking hands on the chilly railing and looked up at the night sky. No matter how hard you tried to steady your breathing or calm yourself down, you just couldn’t. Normally, you’d just leave the party at this point, but Peter was here and you didn’t want him to be disappointed or be left alone with these people. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, helplessness flooding your body because you were just stuck here.

“Y/N?” a worried voice came from the doorway, barely breaking through your haze.

You turned to see Peter standing there, alarm lighting up his face when he took note of your misty eyes and shaking hands. Shutting the door behind him, he ran over to you and caught you as your knees gave out on you.

Clutching his jacket, you finally let yourself break down, sobs wracking your body as he held you close to him. After a few minutes, you tried to slow your sobs and breathe as Peter stroked your hair softly.

“What happened, Y/N?” he whispered, pulling back to look into your eyes, “Something’s been wrong the whole evening. What’s wrong?”

Wiping your nose, you cast your gaze to the ground, thinking over all of your options. You could lie to him and say that it was the test you had tomorrow, but you knew that wouldn’t work. He could tell the difference between you lying and telling the truth in an instant. So, after a few moments of consideration, you decided to tell him everything.

“I- I have anxiety,” you blurted out, “I know how crazy that sounds. I’m a Stark, after all. Shouldn’t I be great at talking to other people? Shouldn’t I be a carefree spirit, a social butterfly, easily floating from conversation to conversation?”

Peter reached down and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as you tried to explain everything.

“I just get so- so anxious all the time, especially at events like this. Everybody in there- they aren’t there to be my friend. They’re always comparing me to my dad and it’s like I just can’t do anything right. That stresses me out so much, and when I get like that, it’s like the world is going too fast for me and I just can’t keep up.”

“Is that why you came out here?” he asked softly, “To get away from all of the people?”

You nodded, sniffling, “It was all too much, so I came out here to get a breath of fresh air and calm down.”

“Are you always this anxious at these parties?”

Pausing a moment, you nodded slowly, a few more tears rolling down your cheeks, “And this was a relatively small event. At the big ones I- I have to leave early. I just can’t handle them, Pete. I would leave this one, but I didn’t want to leave you. I don’t know why I’m like this, but I am, and I hate it, and I hate myself-”

“Shh,” he pulled you into his chest, “It’s okay, Y/N, I’m here. It’ll be okay, I promise. You’re so amazing and strong and I know that you can do this, okay? You don’t have to stay here for me. If you don’t want to be here, you don’t have to be.”

“I love you,” you whispered, pressing your face into his shoulder.

“I love you too,” he placed a kiss to your temple, “Why haven’t you told your dad about this?”

“Because,” your voice was muffled by his jacket, “I don’t want to disappoint him.”

Peter’s heart broke when he heard you speak those worse. He knew how much Tony loved you. After all, he never stopped gushing about how proud of you he was.

“Y/N, Mr. Stark could never be disappointed in you,” he tried to explain to you, his voice calm and soothing, “No matter what happens, he’ll always be proud of you. You’re his daughter, Y/N. The only thing he wants is for you to be happy.”

“Are you sure?” you whimpered, your voice breaking mid-sentence.

“I’m a hundred percent sure. Just try talking to him, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, squeezing him tightly.

________

Pete: i love you, y/n. good luck!

You read over the text one last time before turning off your phone and slipping it into your pocket, taking a step through the door into your dad’s lab. Tony was leaning over a microscope, deep in though as he turned the knobs carefully.

“Dad?” you said nervously, taking a few slow steps towards him.

“What’s up?” he chirped, patting the stool next to him and waving for you to come sit.

“I need to talk to you about something.”

taglist;

@minnie-marvel @quxntumvandyne​ @lokis-sunflower-anna @cynicallystiles @laurfangirl424 @misslunala @secondsineternity @galaxy-parker @sighspidey @signed-potato @lokiislowkeyhot @highlady-ofthe-summercourt @0captain-marvel0 @delicately-written @thefallenbibliophilequote @buck-ets @newtimewriter @thedaughterofdawn @lltrashll @paradoxparker @propertyofmarvel @sagebrandy-loves-pancakes @flaminghottaquito @marvel-galaxy @moonkissedtom @yoinksholland @futzingclint @lokiismischief @whycantwebefriendz @hedwigthelegend @yellowkenyon97 @casuallytumblingdownthestairs  @yelyahryan @em-aesthe @peter-parker-fyeah @screechingtacoglitter @astral-parker @smexylemony @watermelonfruitsalad @spiderboytotherescue

peter parker taglist;

@lostnliterature @that-girl-with-too-many-fandoms

let me know if you’d like to be removed!

[banditthewriter]

It Comes In Waves [Billy Russo] 6

PSA relevant to this chapter? Don’t drink and dial. 

@yessy2012 @1550kilogramsofsilver @hermioneshandbag @rileyblues @releasethekracko @youveseen--thebutcher @missphanosaur18 @smiley-celine @itsjustmylifeconfessions @hoodedhavok @anamarierosee @sarasnow22 @sinceimetyou @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @nostalgic-uncertainty @gingerstarlight @musingsofbanana @ironstank @aveatquevale- @giggleberts @ravismorgue @thehanneloner @mightymelly @queenisabella789 @clarasworldofwonders @hxbbit @colddecember-night​ @rockintensse​ @ltlfngs @figlia--della--luna Please let me know if I forgot anyone or if you want to be tagged in future Billy stories!

Enjoy!

*****

"These contracts are a mess," your boss said as she strode into your office. You were sitting in your desk with your head in your hands and you looked up as she dropped the papers on your desk. "Did that Higgins guy type this with his elbows? I swear these people are trying to kill me." She flopped into the seat opposite of you and you gave her a sympathetic smile as you looked over the paperwork. Gloria had been stressed the last few days because of these contracts, trying to make sure the hospital continued to run smoothly. "It's like he didn't even think about the numbers when he wrote this. There's no possible way that we only had that many patients last month. We have that many patients in a week." You shook your head as you read through the papers, your frown growing every few minutes. Higgins was in a position over you and sometimes you wondered how he got there. Gloria had been hired after him because she told you that she would never have promoted him. "And I'm supposed to turn these over to the board of directors? They'd laugh me out of the board room if I handed them that and then had the nerve to ask for more resources." "Can you ask him to redo them?" You looked at the calendar on your desk and swore. "Why did he pick this month to go on his damn vacation? He knew we had these audits coming up." "Men," Gloria said somewhat mockingly. She rubbed the bridge of her nose and leaned forward to look at you. "I hate to ask because I know that today is your day to go to the home, but do you think you could at least begin on these?" You nodded slowly. You liked going to the different group homes in the area to spend some time with the kids, to show them that it gets better, but work came first. She smiled gratefully and stood up. Before she reached your door, she turned back to smile at you. "I've put your name in the ring for a promotion," she said easily. You blinked up at her, a smile stretching over your face as she gave you a wink and stepped out of your office. You couldn't believe it. When you got this position, you had been told that you probably wouldn't move up the ladder at all, at least not within the first five years. Here you were two years later with the potential of a promotion looming. With that in mind, you grabbed the papers and began pouring over what needed to be fixed. You knew it didn't all have to be fixed today; the audit wasn't for another week, but you wanted to get as much done as possible. It was almost two hours later when you finally looked at the clock. Higgins had made a complete mess of the numbers. You stacked them on your desk so you knew which ones you still needed to work on and which ones were ready for their edits, and you rolled your head to crack your neck. You gathered your things and turned off your light as you slipped into the hallway. Allison wasn't at the front desk anymore, her shift having ended a long time ago, so you waved goodnight to the night receptionist and walked over to the elevator. While the elevator went down to the ground floor, you pulled your phone and checked your messages. There was a text from your adopted mom Daphne asking if you were "coming home for your dad's birthday" and you closed that message without a response. You hadn't decided if you would go back for it. Usually you didn't but every now and then you tried to remember that they had gotten you out of the system. Living with them hadn't been horrible, just hadn't been miserable. Everything was strict, they made you feel like nothing you did was ever good enough, and you felt smothered. Compared to being in group homes, you had it made. It didn't make it any easier. Instead you checked the rest of your messages. A few from friends, a reminder that you were supposed to meet some friends for drinks in a few days, and then a message from someone you hadn't expected to hear from. Just wanted to see how you were holding up. It had been a few days since Billy had showed up at your work and it had been eerily silent from him in that time frame. For some reason you expected to have him constantly in your life now but he seemed to understand you didn't need that. There was a build up of emotion in your chest as you closed the message and put the phone back in your bag. A small part of you wanted to respond, wanted to tell him you weren't holding up at all. A small part of you wanted things back the way they had been. Instead of going to one of the group homes, you got into your car and made the drive to a familiar cemetery. You walked through the headstones until you reached a group of familiar ones. "Hi guys," you said as you sat down in front of Maria's headstone. "Been a while. Sorry about that." You dusted some leaves off of Frank Jr's headstone and then looked over to where Frank's sat. You had paid to have it placed with his family after you thought he died. Now that you knew he was alive, it felt strange to see his name carved into the granite. "It's been a strange couple of days," you breathed as you turned back to Maria's headstone. "Billy's back in my life apparently. He wanted to explain, apologize. Come to think about it, I don't know if ever actually said that he was sorry." You dug your fingers into the grass around the headstone, chest hurting as you thought about all of the things you wanted to say. "He did explain though; explained why he ended things like he had, explained what he was going through." You wanted to say that you were sorry. The guilt and shame that you carried now, the knowledge that if it hadn't been for you then Billy would have told Frank what was going on, weighed against your heart. How do you say that you're sorry for that? "She always thought you two would get married." You jumped up, heart in your throat, and froze as you saw Frank move forward. He held his hands up to calm you down and then moved to sit next to you. He wore a ball cap pulled down over his face, a hoodie over that, and it stung to see the bruises around his eyes. "I didn't know you'd be here," you said as you sat back down. "I come out here sometimes to talk to them." "I do too, now that I'm dead." Frank reached out and gingerly touched his fingers to the granite of Maria's headstone. You watched as he almost lovingly caressed the letters of her name and had to look away. The two of you sat silently for a while, both just trapped in memories and thoughts. Your love and friendship for the man next to you screamed for you to tell the truth, to admit what Billy had told you, but it wasn't your place. And part of you couldn't shake that dream you'd had. Would Frank kill someone he had considered his family? For his own family, he might. The words Frank had spoken when he had joined you rang through your head and you wanted to address it, but you didn't want to draw the conversation to Billy. It was a reminder of what you were holding inside and you couldn't do that. "How are you doing?" you asked instead. "Still in one piece, thanks largely to your healing hands. It's too bad you didn't stick with it Y/N; you would have made a hell of a vet." "I couldn't stand the sight of injured animals." "That's why you dropped out? Well hell, you sew me up just fine." "It's not the blood," you explained with a laugh. "It's actually seeing innocent animals hurt or sick. It breaks my heart." Frank nudged your arm and you leaned against it. He smelled like hot metal and you wondered if he had been firing guns recently. "So seeing me hurt doesn't evoke those sympathetic feelings?" At your look, Frank grinned. "You have healing hands but not exactly a soft, loving touch." You gaped at him, mildly insulted, and elbowed him in the arm when he started to chuckle. "I'll keep that in mind the next time you call me for help." Frank leaned his arm behind you and braced it in the grass. It put you almost tucked into his arm and you smiled as you leaned your head against his shoulder. You had missed this with him; his playful manner. If only you weren't seeing it while sitting next to the headstones of his family. "I meant what I said about Billy," Frank said quietly. You looked up at his face in the dying sunlight and felt your chest tightened. You didn't want to talk about this right now but Frank had never been good at taking hints. "Maria kept asking him if he'd bought the ring yet." "He skipped the ring and went straight for the divorce," you joked flatly. Frank gave you a look and you looked down at the ground once more. "Maria was a romantic. Apparently her ape of a husband was pretty good in that regard." You saw Frank smile gently from the corner of your eye and you heaved out a sigh. It was probably time for you to go home so you reached out and touched each headstone, even Frank's, and smiled. "Goodnight guys. I'll come back soon." Frank helped you stand and you stepped away as he said his goodbyes. Without any verbal agreement, Frank fell into step with you as you moved down the pathways back towards the parking lot. "Wanna give me a lift?" he asked as you walked to your car. You nodded and unlocked the car, smiling as he had to adjust the seat once he sat down. Both of you settled and buckled in, you started the car. A soft song came on the radio and you turned it up a little. You hummed along as you moved through traffic towards his safe house. "Thank you for the headstone," he said quietly. You looked over at him and smiled, gave him a nod as you looked back at the road. "Even though I'm not dead, part of me did die that day." Your hands shook a little on the steering wheel and you tightened your grip to distract yourself. Another reminder, another wound to your already brutalized heart. When you pulled up in front of the warehouse, Frank heaved a sigh and turned to look at you. You returned his gaze and tried to smile as his eyes moved over your face. "I wish you'd tell me what's going on," he let out finally. You blinked, opened your mouth to say deny it, but Frank shook his head and looked away. "Don't bother kid, you know I won't believe it. You have something heavy on you and you can't carry it alone. If you don't find someone to help you carry the load, you're gonna snap." Before you could even think of a response to that, Frank leaned over and pressed a kiss to your temple and then slipped rather gracefully out of your car. You watched him walk up to the door of the warehouse and pull it open. As it slid shut, you heaved out a sigh and put the car in reverse. He was right, but that didn't change the situation. You couldn't go to Billy with everything because he couldn't know that Frank was still alive. You couldn't go to Frank with everything because he couldn't know the truth about the shooting. Who did that leave besides yourself? ----- You were on your fourth-- or was it fifth-- shot when you had the brilliant idea. The tequila you had picked up on your way home from dropping off Frank had done the trick and you stumbled over your feet as you moved to where your phone rested on the coffee table. Eyes squinted as you tried to work the damn thing, you finally hit the right button. It rang once, twice, three times, before a voice answered. "Didn't expect you to call." Billy's voice sounded warm, happy, and near. You pressed your phone closer to your ear as if that would somehow bring him closer to you. "I should prefis... praface... I should start by saying I'm probably tipsy." You hated that you had stumbled over your words, felt like it took away from what you were trying to say. "Probably tipsy? You sound drunk," Billy said with a soft laugh. "Where are you?" "At home, don't worry." "I always worry about you," he said softly. Then a little louder to draw away from that thought, "So you're drunk dialing me. This is definitely not how I thought my night would be going." "You're probably busy or out or, I don't know, fucking some model in the back of a car that I can't even pronounce, but I needed to say something to you." Billy was quiet and you took that as permission to continue. "You fucking wrecked my heart. You wrecked my life. One day everything is good and I'm in love with you and the next you're just killing me one word at a time." "Y/N," he tried to cut in quietly but you made a loud buzzer noise. "Nope, sorry contestant, you don't get to buzz in right now. You got to say your piece, so here is mine." You took a deep breath as you judged how far away the bottle of tequila was. Once you had it in your hands, you took a long swig and grimaced before you continued. "I had to try to find a way to live without you and then the shooting happened and I just lost everyone at once. Do you get how hard that would have been for me? In the span of twenty four hours, I lost the only people that meant anything to me." Billy stayed quiet and you nodded to yourself as you took another swig from the bottle. Your body was warm from the alcohol and the emotions coursing through your veins. "There were times that I wished I hadn't cancelled on Maria. Do you get how messed up that is? There were times I honestly wish I had been there that day." "What do you... at the park?" There was a thin line of terror in Billy's voice and you scoffed as you walked into the kitchen and sat down with your back against the fridge. You had left the bottle in the other room but you didn't care just then. "Yes at the park. Wouldn't that have been some kind of cruel irony," you scoffed as you tilted your head back against the door of the fridge. "You break up with me to save me and then I get my head blown off with Frank's family. Maybe it's what you deserved." "What I deserved?" he repeated and you closed your eyes at the hurt there in his voice. He didn't get to feel hurt. Not tonight, not about this. "What you deserved, yes. You let them die Billy. You picked me and then you left me and Frank's family are in the ground now! They're dead," you yelled, voice breaking on the words. "They are dead and I'm alive and you were gone. I went to their funeral alone! You let them die and you broke my heart!" You had a flash of the dream, of Billy telling you that Frank had killed him, and the sobs started to shake your body. Your ears rung from your screams and you briefly wondered if your neighbors heard. At some point you realized there was nothing on the other line, not even the brief static that said a call was there. You looked at your phone and saw the call had disconnected. In a fit of anger, you tossed your phone and watched it smash against the wall. Pieces fell to the ground and you shakily stood up and walked over to where you had left the bottle of tequila. You tipped it up once more before you tossed it at the wall as well. You wanted to shatter everything in your apartment, wanted to shatter your bones if it meant you'd stop feeling so lost. You sat down on the couch, tears pouring over your cheeks easily, and slowly curled up. You'd probably regret it in the morning, but you had told him you were tipsy. What could he expect?

Part 7

[biillyhargroves]

Friend do you have any headcanons about Max and Billy but like when they were around 7 and 11, like still little kiddies. I imagine they would antagonize each other a lot, but maybe they had also cute moments? Like sharing a room, or maybe Billy helping Max with homework, walking her to and from school or Max coming to Billy after having a bad dream(after watching a horror film)and falling asleep together, them prankig the neighbours, or begging their parents for a dog, like normal sibling stuff

My friend, I am so very glad you asked. I happen to be brimming with childhood headcanons.

Here’s the thing: Billy hated Max when they first met. He hated Susan, too. It wasn’t because of anything they did or said, but on the general principle that his mother had left not a year prior and all of a sudden Billy was being forced to call these new people family, and he didn’t want a new family; he wanted his mom. 

Susan never took it personally, and while Max was no more enthused with the situation than Billy, Susan encouraged her to do the same. “He misses his mom,” she’d tell her, “like how you miss your dad.” And while that was true, Max still got to see her dad. He’d pick her up for the afternoon or have her for a weekend, and Billy was jealous, because Billy’s mother never did that for him. Susan saw this. She’s intuitive. She saw this kid was hurting and she wanted to do something about it, so she asked Max to let him come along the next time her father picked her up. Billy wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but Susan had convinced Neil that it would be good for the kids to bond, so Neil made him go. Max’s father took them to the beach; Billy was moody and sour until he smelled the salt air. He ran for the water, and Max ran after him. They spent the whole afternoon on boogie boards Max’s dad had brought for them. Billy taught Max how to catch waves and ride them into shore, he helped her up when bigger waves knocked her over and then he taught her how to catch herself and how to watch the current and mind the tides. 

Their relationship was better after that day. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but they were warmer towards each other. Billy wouldn’t leave the room when Max came in. They’d watch TV together, or listen to music (Billy had all his mom’s leftover cassettes; he’d play Max Fleetwood Mac and Queen and she’d tease him for singing along, but soon enough they both knew all the words to every song on every cassette they owned). 

Billy helped Max get her first skateboard. They’d pass the skate shop walking home from school and Billy always had to drag her away from the window (his dad would be pissed if they were late getting home, and Billy wasn’t about to set off that bomb). But he saw her looking at the boards and he made a plan: he saved up whatever money he could scrounge and promised her he’d pool it with her allowance to help her buy one. It took them months to save enough, but she was thrilled when they finally did. They spent the whole day in their driveway, Billy blasting music from a boombox while Max tried to find her footing. She took a nasty spill that nearly made Susan take the board away, and it was Billy who helped her clean up; he dragged her into the bathroom and washed her scraped elbows and knees. He pulled out the first aid kid with its expired rubbing alcohol and bandaids in yellowed wrappings and he patched her up. He taught her the right way to do it: stop the bleeding, clean, disinfect, bandage. Max asked how he knew, and Billy shrugged and said it was because of sports. Max was young enough to accept that answer, but soon enough she’d connect to dots: the yelling, the bruises that Billy hid, the way he flinched around his dad. 

Oh, yeah, Billy did his best to shield her from Neil. 

He’d learned over the years how to keep people from asking questions. Neil where to hit so that nothing would show, and Billy knew how to excuse bruises from slipped punches. If he could hide it from teachers and coaches and all his friends’ parents, he could hide it from his step-sister. Once, though, after a particular bad row with his father, Max snuck into his bedroom once their parents had gone to bed. She’d heard the yelling. She’d wanted to come out and see what was going on, but Susan ushered her into her room under the guise of finishing a school project. “Don’t you have that report due?” she asked, and she shut the door and busied Max with schoolwork. But Max knew something was happening, and when Susan finally let her go, Billy was nowhere to be found. His bedroom door had been closed ever since; he didn’t even show up to dinner, so Max saved a roll in a napkin and snuck it in when the house was quiet. 

“Go away,” Billy said, but Max told him she thought he might be hungry and left the roll on his nightstand. He was all balled up on his bed and she sat down next to him. He didn’t tell her leave again, so she decided to stay. Eventually, she curled up next to him and they both fell asleep. When Susan found them in the morning, Max lied and said she’d had a nightmare, and that she’d gone to Billy for help. Billy didn’t dispute her story. 

The next night, Max asked him, “Can I really come? If I do have a bad dream?” and Billy said, “Sure, I guess. Whatever.” 

(She did’t have a ton of bad dreams until they were in Hawkins. Billy didn't know what had really happened. She had, of course, knocked him out after his fight with Steve. He didn’t know a thing about the demodogs or the Mind Flayer, but all of a sudden his little sister was crawling in his bed again in the middle of the night. She’d grumble, “Nightmare.” and in the morning she’d tell him not to say a word about it, and he didn’t. It happened for a couple of weeks, and then sporadically after that, and Billy never said a thing.)

When Billy wasn’t the target of Neil’s anger, his mother still was. She was still calling when they were kids. Neil wouldn’t let Billy talk to her. He’d just scream at her over the phone, and Billy would sneak out the window and down the beach and wouldn’t come back until he knew his dad would be asleep. Once, Max followed him, and even though Billy got pissed, he wasn’t going to risk pissing Neil off by sending Max back alone, so he let her stay. They camped out on the beach for hours and snuck back in just before morning. They spent the whole next day on the couch watching movies and napping while their parents tried in vain to get them to go outside and do something. 

I might as well cap it here because I could go on for HOURS but I will leave one last comment and that is that once they kept a injured kitten hidden in Billy’s room for a full week because Max found it on their walk home from school and refused to leave without it, so Billy hid it in his jacket and they fed it table scraps and nursed it back to health until one of Max’s friends convinced her parents to let her take it. They called it Freddie (after Freddie Mercury, of course) and once they gave it up they started devising a plan to convince their parents to let them get a pet of their own. Their plan never came to fruition, but they never forgot little Freddie, and when Billy finally moves out of his father’s house he brings Max to the animal shelter with him to help him pick out a pet so that his new apartment won’t feel so lonely. 

[masterofmunson]

Care For You (3)

Slight!Steve x Reader, Billy Hargrove x Reader Summary: Every time he takes care of her, she runs away   Warnings: language, angst, mentions of abuse, slut shaming, some teasing, character dynamics change, uh that’s it i think Word Count: 2.1k+ PART 1 PART 2 PART 4 PART 5

The next morning, Y/n decides to walk to school. She was still pissed at Steve and rightfully so, he was acting like an asshole.

She walks quickly through the hallways, avoiding the whispers and stares directed towards her. She tugs on her coat and walks towards her locker.

Her brows quirk in question as a crowd gather around her locker. She shoves through and people whisper and snicker under their breaths. She stands in front of her locker and tears threaten to fall down her cheeks.

On her bland gray locker are copies of the same picture with red spray paint vandalized on it. It’s a picture of her and Billy at Tina’s party. She’s obviously drunk, clinging onto him. Her face is incredibly close to his, almost like she’s about to kiss him. Her hands rest on his chest and his buttons are askew. His hands are around her torso and she’s practically on top of him. The words “THE KING’S SLUT” are spelt in ugly bright red with crowns on all of Billy’s pictures.

A tear slips down her cheek and she angrily tears the pictures down. She shoves past the crowd and hurries towards the main doors. She sees Billy hanging around the front door with his friends and she storms over to him, shoving the torn pieces in his chest.

“It’s funny y’know,” she laughed between tears, “I thought that you were a pretty decent person because of what you did for me on Friday, but I guess seeing the best in people is my fatal flaw, even for someone like you. Guess I was wrong, you’re still a piece of shit.”

He looks at her in utter confusion as he watches her storm out of the front doors. Carol laughs loudly and pops a bubble with the gum that she’s chewing. He looks down at the papers in his hands. He can see the picture as clear as day, even though it’s ripped.

His blood starts to boil and he storms over to her locker. He takes in the words and the pictures tapped onto her locker.

“Awe, poor thing,” Carol sighs behind him.

He turns to face her and his face turns red. “Do you have something to do with this?!”

She shrugs with a smirk. He shoves past her and out the door.

He hurries out the door towards his car and drives out of the parking lot. He drives fast down the streets of Hawkins until he finds her on the main street walking into the records store. He parks quickly before hurrying inside.

The bell chimes loudly against the door and he calls out her name. She shakes her head and starts to retreat to the back of the store. He catches up to her and he grabs her arm. She spins around and rips her arm out of his grasp.

“Don’t touch me!” she cried. “The last time you did I was labeled as King’s Slut!”

“Y/n, I—fuck—I’m so sorry. I had no idea. It was Carol and her shitty friends. God, I’m so sorry,” he apologized, running a hand through his hair.

“And I suppose I have to believe you? Carol and her shitty friends are now the reason I’m now your slut by the whole school and another notch in your belt to help boost your reputation when nothing happened!”

“I know my word may mean shit now, but you just have to trust me that I had no idea,” he sighed.

“If I say yes, will you leave me alone?”

He nods.

“Fine. I believe you. Leave,” she snapped, moving to the back room.

A week passes and for the most part, the locker situation blew over. Carol had gotten detention for the next two weeks and Y/n’s locker was cleaned.

Everything’s back to normal for the most part. Her and Billy don’t talk. Steve and her are back to normal. She works, has school work and rehearsals, and she helps take care of the kids.

Saturday night rolls around and she’s exhausted from work. Her tired limbs take her up the stairs slowly and she switches the light on when her phone starts to ring.

“This is Y/n,” she greets into the phone.

“Y/n, it’s Billy,” his voice is rough and it sounds like he’s been hurt.

She stares at the phone and debates hanging up. “Billy? What do you want? How did you—never mind.”

“Can I come over? Something happened. I have nowhere else to go.”

Her breath gets caught in her throat. She was right this whole time. He does have a rough home life. “Yes, of course,” she said without missing a beat. “Do you need me to pick you up somewhere? Where are you?”

“I’m downtown. I have my car. I’ll be there in ten minutes,” he rasps.

“Okay,” she whispers into the receiver.

“Thank you.”

The call ends and she puts the phone back into place. She runs a hand through her hair nervously and waits.

Ten minutes pass, and like he said, he arrives. There’s a soft knock on the door and she runs down the stairs and rips the door open. She gasps, throwing a hand over her mouth as if she’s trying to conceal her shock.

Billy’s bruised and beaten—far worse than the last time she'd seen him in a fight, with Steve unfortunately. She steps out into her porch and gingerly wraps an arm around his torso. He winces and she mutters a quiet apology.

“Parents?” he gasped as they stumbled inside.

“Out.”

“Dylan?”

“At Lucas’.”

They struggle up the stairs for a few minutes until the manage to tumble into the bathroom. She hits the lights and the bathroom is full of light. He grunts and sits on the counter. Y/n fishes around for the first aid kit and it falls out of her grasp with  shaky fingers. She curses under her breath.

“I forgot something. Stay right here,” she demands softly—as if he had anywhere else to be.

She rubs out of the bathroom to the towel closet. She grabs a handful of washcloths and towels before running downstairs and grabs two packages of frozen peas and carrots. She runs back upstairs, hurrying into her room. She changed into a t-shirt and quickly fishes for clothes that Steve’s left at her house. She huffs out a breath and trips back into the bathroom.

“Shit,” she curses. “I’m destined to get killed in this house,” she laughs nervously, putting the stuff she grabbed on the toilet seat.

Her eyes scan him carefully. He has scrapes littering his face with blood falling down the side of his face. His jaw is turning a dark blue and she swallows hard. She notices that he’s favoring his left side more than his right.

“Can you take your shirt off?” she murmurs, swallowing hard.

He laughs and winces. “If you wanted to just see me shirtless, you could’ve just asked.”

She glares at him and rolls her eyes. “Stop talking and hold this bag of peas to your face, pretty boy,” she snapped, wrapping it in a hand towel.

Billy smirks smugly and takes the bag from her. “Did you just call me pretty boy?”

She narrows her eyes at him and shakes her head, fiddling with the buttons of his flannel. “N-No I didn’t.”

“I think you did.”

“So?” she squeaks nervously. “I call Steve pretty boy.”

“Mhm, I’m sure you do. He’s your boyfriend after all.”

She sighs rolling her eyes. “At this point I’m not going to even bother correcting you. I’ll just glare at you.”

The rest of the button come undone and Y/n’s careful to take it off him. She gasps and fumbles with the other frozen bag of vegetables. His side is littered in ugly blues and purples.

“B-Billy, does—does your dad do this t-to you?” she asks, gently pressing the bag against his side. He nods his head. “Max?” He shakes his head. She lets out a shaky breath and swallows hard. “Is this why you’re so…”

“Mean?” he questions.

“Yeah, sure.” He nods his head. “Billy—shit—is there anyone you can talk to and I dunno… get him arrested? You don’t deserve this.”

“I’m use to it. Besides, I don’t have anyone else. My mom died when I was 14 and he went crazy. Max’s mom is crazy too. I’d be on my own,” he answers quietly.

“Out of all the people you could’ve called, you called me. Why?”

“You see me. I might be a tool at school, but when I’m not… I’m totally different. I’m powerless at home but I have all the power at school and you just… don’t care about that stuff.”

A silence falls between the pair and she moves the bag of vegetables into his other hand. She takes a washcloth and damps it with water. She steps in between his legs and gently rubs the cloth against his face. He winces here and there and her fingers gently holds his face in her hand. She takes his hand in hers and wipes the blood off of them. She grabs the Neosporin and the cleansing alcohol from beneath the sink. She grabs cotton swabs and twists the cap of the cleansing alcohol open.

“This might sting,” she murmurs, dabbing the cotton swab all around his face. He winces and his hands ball into fists. “Sorry.”

She holds the bag of peas to his face and looks at him. He’s relaxed and the tension in his shoulders falls away. He looks at her and notices the arm with all the tiny scars. Even though they’re all small, they’re incredibly noticeable. He reaches for her arm and she tenses, trying to shy away.  

“Do you harm yourself? Is that why you have these scars?” he asks.  

“No. I don’t cut myself. I got hurt,” she lies through gritted teeth.

“Is that why you have really bad nightmares, because of whatever hurt you?”

“Yes,” she murmurs, feeling the weight on her chest grow heavier. Tears threaten to fall and she blinked them away. “I can’t sleep because of them.”

He nods, running his fingers down her arm. She shivers and steps away, giving herself a little more breathing room.

She fumbles with the Neosporin and gently rubs the cream on his face before putting band aids over them. She exhales a breath and wipes her hand on a towel before washing her hands.

“You’re all done. I have some clothes here that might fit. You can change into them if you like. I’ll wash your other clothes,” she states, taking a deep breath.

He nods and she leaves the room briefly. He opens the door and steps out with his dirty clothes. He peeks his head into her room and she’s nowhere in sight. He walks down the stairs and he hears noises in the kitchen. He sees her putting away the bags of frozen vegetables and he coughs into his arm, alerting her of his presence.

She turns around and a soft smile finds its way onto her face. She quickly averts her gaze from his bare chest and swallows hard.

“Steve’s shirt didn’t fit, but the sweats are fine,” Billy says with a smirk. She nods and shuts the freezer door.

“Daisy, c’mere!” she yelled, and a golden retriever runs into the kitchen from the basement.

She gravitates towards Billy, the new guest and she wags her tail. She nudges her snout against his hand and he laughs, petting behind her ear.

“Aren’t you a pretty dog?” he coos, squatting down to pet her. She licks his face and he laughs.

Y/n whistles by the back door and Daisy trouts over and she sits down obediently, waiting to be let out. She shuts the door and turns back to Billy.

“Follow me,” she said, opening the door to the basement and walking down the steps. She pulls on the strings to all the lights and steps over to the washer and dryer.

She opens the washer and stuff clothes inside of it. She motions for Billy to put his clothes in the dryer and she closes the top.

They head back upstairs and she lets the dog back in before they go up to her bedroom. She locks the door before sitting in her lounge chair.

“You can take my bed,” she said. “I don’t usually sleep much, anyway.”

“What? Are you sure?” he questions, sitting up on the bed.

She nods. “Yup. You’re fine. If I fall asleep I have really bad nightmares so I just take power naps throughout the day. You can take the bed.”

He sighs, rolling over to face her. “Thank you, Y/n.”

“You’re welcome, Billy.”

ok first off thaNK YOU SO MUCH FOR 2K I LOVE YALL!! SECOND, ENJOY AND TELL ME WHAT U THINK

BILLY TAG: @dannystylesmalik @arronity @xsuperwholockaddictx-blog @buchonians @httperrornicole @codewordpigeon @itstheghostgirl @rainbowfez @itsnotiniah @tah0e @ghostkani @romanceapocalyptic @nistaposebno @dvcremontgomery @ssweet-empowerment @emislayyyy74 @mykingdomismyheaven @leavingtonight-1967 @jvsbe @kassidydem @shyriss-23 @richardbemadden @the—gazeboeffect @barbarairene-k @oldwanderingsoul @therebeltype @cnopps3 @not-a-glad-gladiator @paledragonengineer @buckylovelybarnes @alwayscaughtredhanded @daddy-montgomery @selenedarkbloom @tavia0407 @buckysjuicyplums @irishollynatural @artisticlales @sleepy-rad @his-cocaine-heart @theconscientiouswriter @tremilyteapot @c-ly-g @ace-angel-judas @imaginemarvelbae @mysticalavengers @21hamstreet @hailhydrabarnes @fangirlinganditswonders

[music-of-silence]

REVELATIONS about the REVOLUTION Imagine this--some old hippie has just bought the house next door to yours. It turns out to be Billy Kreutzmann from the Grateful Dead. The two of you become best friends, and Billy tells you all the intimate details of his entire life, stuff he's never been able to tell ANYBODY before. You get to hear everything. He shares tales about his childhood, how his dad sold Jerry his banjo, years before Billy ever knew Jerry himself, about losing his virginity, and how he fell in love with drumming. You're privy to all the biggest secrets, which nobody knows except you, Billy, and the other band members. You find out that Mickey didn't leave the Dead because he was embarrassed his father stole all their money. Actually, Billy divulges that the band fired him for being too strung out on heroin to drum properly. And when Mickey wanted to rejoin the Dead, Billy didn't want him brought back. He loved the freedom of being the only drummer. Of course you'd be shocked. Imagine your new best friend and neighbor confiding in you, that the Grateful Dead were into drugs. Geez, d'ya think? No, we're not talking about LSD and pot, we're talking about heroin, pills and coke. Billy says how he liked Donna as a person, but as far as her vocal harmonizing, Billy didn't think she belonged in the band. Most deadheads are aware of the basic history of the Dead, since so much had been written, for example Rock Scully's book (Living with the Dead). But Billy's book provides a first hand perspective. Billy lived in the various communes, with the other band members and their extended family, culminating in the famous 710 Haight street house. He doesn't hold back about anyone in the Dead. He tells the story how Pigpen and Janis Joplin were caught shagging each other on the Festival Express Train. Janis forgot to close the window blinds. You get the dirty details about Altamont, Woodstock, Monterey Pop, and the Human Be-in. (The Dead always blew the big gigs.) Of course, there's all the crazy rock god hotel destruction stories from the 70s, when they'd be all wired after a show, and would blow off steam by shooting fireworks. Or how Bobby thought it was funny, to pull out a snub nosed .38 revolver in an airport and start shooting it. (It was only a cap gun, but he did get arrested.) Billy tells you about the ugly fights between Keith and Donna, and how the two of them destroyed two cars, during an impromptu demolition derby in the hotel parking lot. Billy talks about the Europe 72 tour, and his favorite Grateful Dead gig of all time, performing before the Egyptian pyramids in 1978, surrounded by Bedouins on camels. Or imagine your surprised when Billy relates his crazy times with John Belushi, and their coke fueled parties. Ever hear of Rolling Thunder, the American Indian that Billy and his old lady lived with, in the desert? Its the part of the tale, where Billy confides his feelings on spirituality. He tells how the Dead almost broke up in 1974, from shear exhaustion. How the band tried to fund their own record company, and lost money. How Jerry overspent on the Grateful Dead movie, and lost money. How signing with Arista, led to their MTV hit "Touch of Grey", and made them LOTS of money. Billy lets you know how much he hated the cover of GO TO HEAVEN, and detested their last studio album, BUILT TO LAST. And how the band never were able to record their last album of new material. Fate intervened. Go to Amazon

Very conversational, highly recommended One of those books you don't put down. Like an old friend telling you a bunch of crazy stories over a couple of brews. An old friend that happened to be in the Grateful Dead from the beginning. I'm reading it for the second time. It is very much about Billy and his experience in the group and he doesn't spend more than 1-2 pages on any particular story/event. Doesn't get too in-detail about the others. I'm a huge Jerry fan and don't think I learned too many new things about Jerry here, for example. Go to Amazon

Bill the drummer... So glad Bill wrote this book. I'm a huge Deadhead and really enjoyed the book. It's an easy read . My only complaint is that there weren't more stories told...seemed like it had been edited pretty heavily. But definitely worth reading. Go to Amazon

A Fresh Perspective on The Grateful Dead Bought this book as a gift for for my husband, and he is absolutely loving it! He said what he appreciates most is that it offers a fresh perspective on the band, rather than repeating the stories that have been told over and over again in other books on the Grateful Dead. He said the only problem with it is that he's enjoying it so much, he's reading through it more quickly than he would like! I am very pleased with this purchase. Go to Amazon

Quirky and engaging. This book is like nothing else that I've ever read. Kreutzmann's writing style is idiosyncratic and folksy, as if the reader is listening to tall tales spun by a witness to history. There is very little sugar-coating here, and by the end of the book, I had gained some additional respect for the author as a musician, but I must say that I had lost some love and respect for him as a person. Quirky and engaging. If you love the Dead, you'll love the book. Go to Amazon

Great DEAL!! I very much enjoyed taking the 30 year long, strange trip with Bill the Drummer. It's surprising that he can recount all of the detailed stories contained in Deal considering how much FUN they had along the way. I especially appreciated Bill's candor as he spoke about recording studio experiences, their songs, the concerts they played and tidbits about other members of the band. A must read for a dead head looking for insights into the band, their music and the overall experience of being a Dead Head. Go to Amazon

Conversations with Billy appreciated Wow, It was filled with moments that made me laugh out loud and moments that made my heart ache. There continues to be so much love in my heart for the band members who live on in body and spirit and the extended family I have come to know over the past 45 years of going to shows. I appreciated Billy's point of view and story telling.....it was like Billy was sitting there and talking to me....very conversational. Thanks for sharing. Go to Amazon

My sons loved this My 2 sons loved this book. They are crazy about the Grateful Dead Band. I have ordered many things from you and this was a big hit. Thank you Go to Amazon

Pass on the audio if you can - read the book for sure. Enjoyed every minute highly enjoyable Honest Very entertaining and great history of the band and their shenanigans over the years! a grateful reader Five Stars Very fun read Awesome. Straight from the source Five Stars

[music-of-silence]

REVELATIONS about the REVOLUTION Imagine this--some old hippie has just bought the house next door to yours. It turns out to be Billy Kreutzmann from the Grateful Dead. The two of you become best friends, and Billy tells you all the intimate details of his entire life, stuff he's never been able to tell ANYBODY before. You get to hear everything. He shares tales about his childhood, how his dad sold Jerry his banjo, years before Billy ever knew Jerry himself, about losing his virginity, and how he fell in love with drumming. You're privy to all the biggest secrets, which nobody knows except you, Billy, and the other band members. You find out that Mickey didn't leave the Dead because he was embarrassed his father stole all their money. Actually, Billy divulges that the band fired him for being too strung out on heroin to drum properly. And when Mickey wanted to rejoin the Dead, Billy didn't want him brought back. He loved the freedom of being the only drummer. Of course you'd be shocked. Imagine your new best friend and neighbor confiding in you, that the Grateful Dead were into drugs. Geez, d'ya think? No, we're not talking about LSD and pot, we're talking about heroin, pills and coke. Billy says how he liked Donna as a person, but as far as her vocal harmonizing, Billy didn't think she belonged in the band. Most deadheads are aware of the basic history of the Dead, since so much had been written, for example Rock Scully's book (Living with the Dead). But Billy's book provides a first hand perspective. Billy lived in the various communes, with the other band members and their extended family, culminating in the famous 710 Haight street house. He doesn't hold back about anyone in the Dead. He tells the story how Pigpen and Janis Joplin were caught shagging each other on the Festival Express Train. Janis forgot to close the window blinds. You get the dirty details about Altamont, Woodstock, Monterey Pop, and the Human Be-in. (The Dead always blew the big gigs.) Of course, there's all the crazy rock god hotel destruction stories from the 70s, when they'd be all wired after a show, and would blow off steam by shooting fireworks. Or how Bobby thought it was funny, to pull out a snub nosed .38 revolver in an airport and start shooting it. (It was only a cap gun, but he did get arrested.) Billy tells you about the ugly fights between Keith and Donna, and how the two of them destroyed two cars, during an impromptu demolition derby in the hotel parking lot. Billy talks about the Europe 72 tour, and his favorite Grateful Dead gig of all time, performing before the Egyptian pyramids in 1978, surrounded by Bedouins on camels. Or imagine your surprised when Billy relates his crazy times with John Belushi, and their coke fueled parties. Ever hear of Rolling Thunder, the American Indian that Billy and his old lady lived with, in the desert? Its the part of the tale, where Billy confides his feelings on spirituality. He tells how the Dead almost broke up in 1974, from shear exhaustion. How the band tried to fund their own record company, and lost money. How Jerry overspent on the Grateful Dead movie, and lost money. How signing with Arista, led to their MTV hit "Touch of Grey", and made them LOTS of money. Billy lets you know how much he hated the cover of GO TO HEAVEN, and detested their last studio album, BUILT TO LAST. And how the band never were able to record their last album of new material. Fate intervened. Go to Amazon

Very conversational, highly recommended One of those books you don't put down. Like an old friend telling you a bunch of crazy stories over a couple of brews. An old friend that happened to be in the Grateful Dead from the beginning. I'm reading it for the second time. It is very much about Billy and his experience in the group and he doesn't spend more than 1-2 pages on any particular story/event. Doesn't get too in-detail about the others. I'm a huge Jerry fan and don't think I learned too many new things about Jerry here, for example. Go to Amazon

Bill the drummer... So glad Bill wrote this book. I'm a huge Deadhead and really enjoyed the book. It's an easy read . My only complaint is that there weren't more stories told...seemed like it had been edited pretty heavily. But definitely worth reading. Go to Amazon

A Fresh Perspective on The Grateful Dead Bought this book as a gift for for my husband, and he is absolutely loving it! He said what he appreciates most is that it offers a fresh perspective on the band, rather than repeating the stories that have been told over and over again in other books on the Grateful Dead. He said the only problem with it is that he's enjoying it so much, he's reading through it more quickly than he would like! I am very pleased with this purchase. Go to Amazon

Quirky and engaging. This book is like nothing else that I've ever read. Kreutzmann's writing style is idiosyncratic and folksy, as if the reader is listening to tall tales spun by a witness to history. There is very little sugar-coating here, and by the end of the book, I had gained some additional respect for the author as a musician, but I must say that I had lost some love and respect for him as a person. Quirky and engaging. If you love the Dead, you'll love the book. Go to Amazon

Great DEAL!! I very much enjoyed taking the 30 year long, strange trip with Bill the Drummer. It's surprising that he can recount all of the detailed stories contained in Deal considering how much FUN they had along the way. I especially appreciated Bill's candor as he spoke about recording studio experiences, their songs, the concerts they played and tidbits about other members of the band. A must read for a dead head looking for insights into the band, their music and the overall experience of being a Dead Head. Go to Amazon

Conversations with Billy appreciated Wow, It was filled with moments that made me laugh out loud and moments that made my heart ache. There continues to be so much love in my heart for the band members who live on in body and spirit and the extended family I have come to know over the past 45 years of going to shows. I appreciated Billy's point of view and story telling.....it was like Billy was sitting there and talking to me....very conversational. Thanks for sharing. Go to Amazon

My sons loved this My 2 sons loved this book. They are crazy about the Grateful Dead Band. I have ordered many things from you and this was a big hit. Thank you Go to Amazon

Pass on the audio if you can - read the book for sure. Enjoyed every minute highly enjoyable Honest Very entertaining and great history of the band and their shenanigans over the years! a grateful reader Five Stars Very fun read Awesome. Straight from the source Five Stars