#Multitasking Bug

[stellaretic]

[cowchickenbeefpork]

First chapter wip of a huge longfic now at 3.3k ( was either 2.9k or 2.8k before) and the oneshot fic wip is now at over 700 words( was 500 words before)....winning here

[funkbun]

im honestly really tempted to try n make an illustration for every track in the bugsnax ost.... semester's ending soon i've got the time...

[icarrymany]

asking u all to send me whats on ur minds. i like interacting a lot

[gremnda]

here's the colored version for our pfps <3

giving our opinions on Very important matters, ft my lovely wife Liss the @tubborucho

[firstdove15]

Absolutely love making progress but the room still looks like a hot mess. OTL

[prokopetz]

Eat God playtest draft 0.5.1 is now available

This is a minor update incorporating first-pass reader and playtester feedback for draft 0.5. A full changelog is available here, or under the cut below; all page numbers refer to the PDF version.

Removed an erroneous reference to a currently unreleased subsection of Appendix B from the Table of Contents (p. 2)

Reorganised "What You'll Need" for clarity (p. 6)

Reworded definition of "tagging" under "Trait Effects" (p. 10)

Clarified that "Flowing Form" does not allow changing colour or texture (at least not by itself) (p. 17)

Updated "Fulsome Fluids" to remove an inappropriate assumption that the player character has hands (p. 18)

Reorganised "Hearty Humours" to better distinguish descriptive flavour from narrative permissions (p. 18)

Clarified that "Mobile Members" is limited by one's native capacity to multitask rather than a strict "one member at a time" policy (permitting, e.g., interactions with "Polycephalous"); additionally, elaborated on what coordinating multiple members entails (p. 20)

Slight wording update to "Modal Morphology" to clarify that the character has two shapes in total (p. 21)

Clarified timing of effortful application of "Peculiar Poise" (p. 21)

Clarified that the relative-scale-adjusting effortful application of "Striking Stature" is sustained (p. 23)

Clarified that the secondary effect of the Art of Abundance can be activated multiple times (p. 36)

Rolled back changes to deactivation criteria for the Art of Alteration (this was a copy-and-paste error from a larger potential reworking of this Art which was not included in draft 0.5) (p. 36)

Reorganised bullet points under the Art of Exposition for better text flow (p. 37)

Clarified that a test re-rolled via the Art of Iteration can claim an extra die for being made in conjunction with an Art if it hasn't done so already (p. 38)

Reorganised bullet points under the Art of Making for better text flow (p. 39)

Clarified that the Art of Realisation applies to any artistic depiction, not just drawings (p. 40)

Reorganised "Gathering Dice" to make it more explicit exactly when the five-dice cap for tests is applied, and what happens if you go over it (p. 48)

Dialed back some over-wordiness in the preamble to "Forms and Impact" (p. 81)

Discussion of print-and-play NPC cards now refers readers back to "What You'll Need" rather than repeatedly explaining how to obtian them (pp. 88, 100)

Clarified that starting Gizmos in "The Clockwork City" can be taken even if non-Gizmo starting inventory is chosen rather than rolled (p. 102)

Fixed a bug in the Online Character Generator which was causing the names of randomly selected inventory items to appear as "undefined"

Various typographic and formatting fixes

[wvyik]

dad! dean headcanons. d.w. ꒰ঌ ໒꒱

dean winchester x fem! reader

ᰔ summary: dean might slay monsters, but his heart belongs to his little one. from diaper disasters to sleepy snuggles, these headcanons show dean as the softest dad, proving that no matter how tough he is, his love for his baby is even bigger.

⤿ warnings: pure fluff, cuteness overload, you might need tissues, too much dad! dean for your heart to handle, this post is not responsible for any unintentional squealing or melting, i MIGHT make this a series, uncontrollable awws guaranteed.

⤿ notes: so, in case you didn’t know, i’m officially in my “dad! dean makes me weak” era, and i’m not sorry about it. if you’re reading this and you’re like, ‘why does my heart hurt in the best way right now?’ then welcome to the club. we all fam. ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜

DEAN WANTS TO GIVE THEM THE CHILDHOOD HE NEVER HAD.. So he overcompensates. Birthday parties. Christmas mornings that look like a Hallmark movie. Camping trips. Home videos. He keeps everything. “I just want them to know they’re loved. Always.”

HE HATES MISSING MILESTONES.. If he’s on a hunt and misses a first word or first step? He’ll make Cas rewind time or beg Sam for a cursed object to see it. He’d call you in tears like “babe, what’d they say? Was it ‘dada’? Please tell me it was ‘dada.’”

HE BUILDS THEM A BUNKER-LEVEL PILLOW FORT.. Rainy day? You better believe that living room becomes a war zone of blankets, snacks, and Flashlight Tag. “No demons in this fort, soldier. Only snuggles.”

HE TEACHES THEM HOW TO RESPECT PEOPLE.. Manners. Loyalty. Standing up for others. “You protect the people you love. Always. No matter what.” Dean raises the kind of kids that other parents admire.

BUT HE SUCKS AT DISCIPLE WHEN THEY CRY.. One look at those watery eyes and he’s DONE. “Aw c’mon, don’t do that to me, sweetheart… I wasn’t even that mad.” Ends up cuddling them on the couch whispering “daddy’s not mad, just worried.”

ALWAYS TUCKS A NOTE IN THEIR LUNCHBOX.. Little post-its with stuff like “Be brave today, champ!” or “Love you more than pie. Almost.” You find the notes years later, kept in a shoebox.

DEAN HAS A WEIRD OBSESSION WITH CAR SEATS NOW.. He installed that thing like it was a bomb. Double-checks it every single time. “My kid’s not going anywhere unless it’s safely strapped into Baby’s throne.”

HAS ZERO CHILL WHEN THEY’RE SICK.. One cough and he’s pacing like a war general. Blankets, soup, forehead kisses. “You okay, bug? You want Daddy to beat up the virus?”

HE KEEPS BABY PICTURES OF THE KIDS IN HIS WALLET.. And he shows them to random strangers at gas stations, “That’s my little kiddo in their first flannel. Got that same ‘handsome’ face.” with that stupid grin on his face.

HE CRIES AT DANCE RECITALS AND LITTLE LEAGUE GAMES.. Tries to hide it behind his sunglasses, but you can see the sniffles. “That’s my kid out there. Did you see that spin?? Better than Michael Jackson!”

HIS RINGTONE IS THEIR LAUGH.. He recorded it one afternoon when they were giggling at his fart jokes. It’s been his ringtone ever since and he refuses to change it. “Best sound in the damn world.”

CARRIES THEIR ART IN EVERYWHERE.. You open the Impala’s glove box and there’s a crayon drawing of Dean with a giant smile labeled “My Hero.” He pretends to be chill about it but he’s totally cried over it in the garage.

HE TEACHES THEM TO SAY ‘NO’ EARLY.. “I don’t care how small you are. If someone makes you uncomfortable? You say ‘no’ loud. Clear. Mean it. And if they don’t back off, tell Daddy. I’ll handle it.”

BABY-PROOFING THE BUNKER TURNS INTO A WHOLE MISSION.. Sam walks in and Dean’s like “I’ve sealed every electrical outlet, covered all corners, and enchanted the nursery against monsters. What have you done today, Uncle Sam?”

HE STARTS CARRYING DIAPERS AND WIPES IN HIS WEAPONS DUFFEL.. Like a damn multitasking king. There’s holy water, salt rounds, and a pastel blue binky. He pulls it out like “don’t judge me, I’m prepared.”

TEACHES THEM HOW TO SHOOT WITH NERF GUNS FIRST.. You come home and find the house COVERED in foam bullets. He’s in full camo, kids are giggling like maniacs, and he’s yelling “Cover me, soldier! We’ve got a diaper bandit on the loose!”

WHEN THEY GET HURT, HE BLAMES HIMSELF.. They fall off a bike? Scrape a knee? Dean acts like the sky is falling. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve caught ‘em.” And you have to literally hold his face and be like “They’re okay, babe. You’re a great dad.”

HE STARTS READING PARENTING BOOKS IN SECRET.. You catch him late at night with What to Expect the First Year under a flashlight like it’s a case file. “Don’t look at me like that, woman. I just wanna be prepared. Babies don’t come with manuals; this is the closest thing.”

HE LETS THEM PAINT HIS NAILS AND DOESN’T WASH IT OFF FOR DAYS.. He’s out on a hunt with chipped sparkly polish and when Sam’s like “what the hell’s on your hands?” Dean’s all, “My daughter’s masterpiece. You got a problem with that?”

DEAN’S SECRETLY TERRIFIED HE’S GONNA MESS THEM UP.. Sometimes he stares at them sleeping and whispers, “You deserve better than I ever had, kid. I’ll never let anything happen to you.” And then he crawls into bed and pulls you close because you’re the only thing that calms that storm.

HE GETS JEALOUS WHEN THEY CLING TO YOU TOO MUCH.. Playfully, but still. “C’mon, they were on your hip all day. Daddy needs cuddles too!” He pouts until the kid crawls into his lap and he’s smug like “that’s right, Daddy’s the favorite now.”

GETS SO MAD WHEN PEOPLE SAY ‘JUST WAIT TILL THEY’RE TEENAGERS’.. Like— no. “I’m gonna love ‘em through every stage. You don’t stop being their damn parent when they get loud and moody. You step up. That’s my kid.”

ALWAYS MAKES TIME FOR ONE-ON-ONE DATES.. He’ll take each kid out individually for a milkshake or a trip to the arcade and call it “dad-and-me time.” He says it’s for them, but it’s really for him, too.

WRITES THEM LETTERS “JUST IN CASE”.. Stored in the bunker. One for every birthday. Every milestone. “If something ever happens to me… I want them to know I was there. I loved ‘em every second.”

WHEN YOU’RE ALL SNUGGLED UP IN BED, HE HOLDS THE BABY AND WHISPERS TO YOU.. “We really did it, huh? We made this little life. And I’m not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart. Ever.”

taglist; @lieutenantchaos @bejeweledinterludes @ambiguous-avery @mostlymarvelgirl @freeluigihesbae @brutuuallove @impala67rollingthroughtown @multiversefanfics @littlesoulshine @starzify @ladykitana90 @idontwannabehere78 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @pieandflannel @twelveyearsofit @tinas111 @unstable-cucumber @everythingisaspectrum @pennywatsonlafayette @lunaleah ⊹ ࣪ ˖

⤿ wanna be tagged in my fics?.. don't be shy! @ taglist.

tysm for reading! more works incoming @ library.

[sunrisecaminus]

Ya know, nicknames and pet names, right? What about Bumblebee×Reader where Bee get flustered over time by all the names y/n throws at him with all the love and affection in their heart! I'm talking about BB, honeybee, hot wheels, sweet spark, hun bun, cuddle bug- list that goes on!

Bee needs to be shown some love-

Message - AWE Baby bee ;-;

Bumblebee x Flirty Reader Headcanons SFW/NSFW

Summary - Headcanons of bumblebee being embarrassed every time you call him nicknames.

Warnings - NSFW under "read more"

SFW

~ This little guy is so flustered anytime of the day.

~ Good morning kisses? Blushing.

~ Goodbye kisses? Blushing.

~ Calling him a sweet pea or a beautiful angel? Nah you killed him.

~ Everyday he waits for you to come back to the base like a puppy, missing you every second you are gone.

~ He wants nothing more, but for you to shower him with kisses and nicknames all day.

~ Whenever you are in the car with him, he will accidentally speed up whenever you call him honeybee

~ He will choke on his food whenever you call him baby. Even sweetie is something he would get flustered on.

~ Bee will never get use to it, which is a good thing for you…but not for him ;3

NSFW ~ He would be KNEELING for you after calling him nicknames.

~ Telling him to do whatever you want with "Honeybun" at the end of it would get Bee to do it in seconds!

~ Sucking his spike, whispering anything you could think of when your mouth leaves him. Nah, this mech is a shaking, moaning mess.

~ Bumblebee being top is usually rare, but when it happens, you better praise him for trying his best.

~ His air conditioning would be at it's max if you started flirting while on top of his face.

~ You talking in general is something he loves you doing while interfacing, it's like if he was multitasking. Listening to you while playing with himself is medication for him.

~ He's about to be flirty to you and is as cocky as ever, but than you spread your legs and say "Come here, baby."

~ Bro melting at every word, but he takes aftercare very seriously.

~ He washes your body, grabbing some wine and letting you eat whatever you desire.

~ Letting you lean on him while watching your favorite show, playing with your hair is the best thing for him after interfacing.

[leighsartworks216]

Let Me Help You

Zayne x gn!Reader

I just copy/pasted this from my notes bc I am too tired to go through and retype it all 👍

Warnings: hurt/comfort, mentally/emotionally abusive parents, crying, communication, food + cooking, domestic, established relationship

Word Count: 1,019

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You felt awful. Watching Zayne try to rescue dinner. The dinner you were so determined to make for him. You weren't bad at cooking, but (and you'd be the last to admit this) you got in way over your head with the recipe you chose. The amount of multitasking required to make it meant it fell apart before you even turned the stove on. Which meant half of the food was overcooked (not burnt, just... crispy and tough), and the other half was undercooked (which Zayne was trying to deal with now).

You dropped your head onto the kitchen table, hiding in the cover of your arms. You're not sure when you start crying. All you know is you have to keep it tamped down, have to keep it from Zayne, have to pretend you're not. You've already bugged him enough for one night.

Glass makes contact with the wooden table, mixing with the gentle clatter of silverware. You risk peeking out with one eye to see a plate full of the scavenged meal. You didn't have the appetite for it anymore. You go back to your moping.

Zayne's chair slides across the floor, muffled by felt attached to the bottom of the legs. He's sitting just there. It ignites an unfamiliar swarm of fire ants in your body; they crawl and chatter and fester under your skin. You dig your fingers into your arm, preparing for the worst.

"My love," he says softly. When you don't answer, he pulls your hand from your arm. He holds it tenderly, rubbing along your knuckles in a familiar display of his affections. "Talk to me, please."

You inhale shakily. "Are you upset?" you mutter. It's muffled and quiet, but he pieces it together.

"I'm not upset, but I am worried. It's not like you to do something like this."

"It's not like you..." Unfortunately, that is the problem.

You hesitantly lift your head. You don't let him go, but you don't look at him as you wipe the tears from your face. He squeezes your hand a little tighter. "My parents called..." you finally admit.

Zayne had only ever met them once. It was the single most uncomfortable, disquieting experience possible. You'd ended up leaving that dinner party early, but you still couldn't manage to cut them out of your life. They're your parents, they should be kind, loving and understanding - and somehow you trick your brain before every call into thinking they are, up until they open their mouths.

He sighs, frowning. "What did they say?"

"They said that... you do too much around the house after working as hard as you do. That I should be pulling my weight more, be a better partner." You keep going before he can argue against their claims. "They're right, though. I mean, you work so hard at the hospital and then you come home and cook? I should have something ready for you. You should be able to relax right after work, not keep working to take care of me after all that.

"So I thought..." You sigh, rubbing at your sore eyes. "I thought I would make you something. Something proper, not just, like, stuff from the convenience store down the block."

"May I say something?" he asks quietly.

Your chest clenches painfully at every thought of what he could say, but you nod regardless. He squeezes your hand again like a silent thank you.

"Taking care of you is not work to me. It never has been," he starts. He speaks firmly, but not unkindly. He knows why you think that way, knows your parents have spent every minute of their lives cementing that into your head and reinforcing it with every phone call berating you for taking up too much time and space. But it's not true. Never.

He continues, "I enjoy being able to come home from work and spend time in the kitchen with you. I always look forward to it. And even if we order food in, I never mind, because I will be eating it with you. Do you understand?"

You stare down at your joined hands. Their outlines blur into smudged watercolor as tears build back up in your eyes. You wipe them away and nod.

"You are the best partner I could ever hope for."

You watch as he brings your hand to his face. He kisses your palm and gently nuzzles it open with his cheek so you hold his face. He smiles softly at you. It's the first time you've looked at his face since he got home. He was starting to miss it, the way your gaze feels so warm on him.

"I'm sorry," you croak out.

"It's alright," he reassures. "Please talk to me the next time you have doubts like this. While I appreciate the gesture, choose a simple recipe next time."

A laugh bubbles out of you despite yourself. He kisses your hand again. How he missed that smile.

"Okay."

It fades back into a troubled frown a moment later. It's like the sun peeking out on an overcast day, only to be covered up by the next passing cloud.

"I can still do more around the house. I feel like I don't do enough for everything you do for me."

He hums thoughtfully. "Let's make a list of chores. We can divide them between us until it feels balanced. Is there anything else?"

You mindlessly stroke his cheek with your thumb. He leans into it. He can see the thoughts fighting in your head. See the way you fight on both sides in the war of indecision. It seems there is a clear winner, when you finally, finally look him in the eye.

"I think," you start in a nervous, broken whisper, "I need help cutting them off."

"Let me help you," he whispers in return, a plea.

You nod with little hesitation. "Okay."

"Is there anything else?" he asks again.

"Just one more thing.” You glance at the plates of food before you. "Can we get takeout?"

He chuckles softly. "Yes, we can get takeout."

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: this fic really only happened bc @youunravelme sent the pic of mat in the brown suit and said he looks like he could be carrying a diaper bag 😂 and then my mat and squeaks-loving heart ran with that! i’ve been telling their story in bits and pieces and out of order, but this story has more mention of squeaks’ mental state post-partum

word count: 4.2k

tw: mentions of post-partum anxiety, mentions of being on anti-anxiety medication, body image issues,

summary: being a bridesmaid in a wedding out east is the perfect reason for a little family and friends getaway, but you can’t completely let go of your anxieties

You should be having fun, getting ready with the girls and having your hair and makeup done, but your chest feels tight and you’re finding it hard to breathe.

Maybe air. You need air.

Rubbing at your sternum with one hand curled into a fist, you wander over to the French doors of the bridal suite, pushing them open and sticking your head out onto the balcony. The slight breeze off of Sag Harbor Bay is helping, the salty air cool and taking an edge off the mid-July heat.

A cool hand lands on your shoulder and you jump, turning slightly to see Kristy’s concerned face. “Are you okay?” She asks, a furrow between her eyebrows.

“I…yes? No?” You falter, fist still pressed against your chest. You recognize the anxiety symptoms, familiar as they are, but you’re not sure what triggered it. You’d been laughing just a few minutes ago, all the bridesmaids getting the final touches before heading out to line up for the ceremony.

“How about some water?” Kristy’s already uncapping a water bottle and handing it to you as she speaks, a mom multitasking.

You’re sipping at the water, your head spinning a little bit, when there’s a knock on the door to the suite. You can’t see who’s at the door, but you do hear Syd call your name, laughing, “we have an uninvited husband and baby here.”

“Oh!” You don’t have to see Mat and Talia for the knot in your chest to ease and for your breathing to get easier. They’re exactly who you needed and you don’t waste any time in hurrying as fast as your heeled feet will take you towards the door to the suite.

Mat’s hovering at the door, looking handsome and polished in his suit, a far cry from the disheveled, bed-headed mess you’d left behind at the Martins’ Hamptons home this morning. He’s got Talia in his arms, her back against his chest so she can see everything that’s going on. Syd’s squishing her little cheeks, making your fifteen-month-old giggle wildly and wriggle in Mat’s arms. The skirt of her summery floral dress is bunched up under Mat’s forearm, exposing chunky toddler legs.

“Hey!” Mat looks up and grins at you, the delighted expression on his face flickering when he sees whatever expression is on yours.

“Mama!” Talia shrieks and lunges for you, Mat’s arms tightening reflexively around the wiggly toddler.

Syd laughs and gives her a noisy kiss on the cheek. “Aunt Syd doesn’t hold a candle to Mom, I guess,” she shrugs and you offer her a faint smile.

“She’ll change her mind in like twenty minutes,” you joke, reaching out for her and stepping into Mat’s personal space. “Hi, Bug. Having a good morning with Daddy? I’ve missed you.” There’s a wobble to your voice and Mat doesn’t miss it.

“Hey,” he ducks his head closer to yours, his cheek brushing against the side of Talia’s head, “what’s going on? Are you okay?”

It’s the exact same question Kristy asked a few minutes ago, but when Mat asks it, you can’t help the tears that well up in your lash line or the hiccuping sob that escapes your lips even as you try to press them together.

Mat’s face immediately falls and he quickly kisses the side of Talia’s head, murmuring to her, “you’re gonna hang with Aunt Syd for a minute, okay, Bug?”

“No!” You nearly yelp, holding Talia’s fingers tighter. You don’t want her out of your sight. “No,” you repeat, quieter. “Just…just let me hang out with her for a minute.”

Talia chants her few words, mamas and dadas falling happily from her smiling mouth, her hands tucked in yours. You can feel the anxiety seep from your body, your shoulders lowering from your ears.

Mat nods and he secures Talia against his chest with one arm so he can cup your cheek with the other hand. His thumb brushes softly against your cheekbone and you lean into his touch, barely concerned about the layer of makeup coating your skin. “You were okay this morning,” he says, a statement that sounds more like a question.

“Mhm,” you hum a reply, smiling widely at Talia and brushing her dark curls off her face. She scrunches up her face and squeals when you tickle her cheeks. “I…I was okay until a few minutes ago, honestly. I don’t know, Mat.” You lift one shoulder in a shrug, knowing that your anxiety is unpredictable lately, less constant than in the months following Talia’s birth, but no less severe when the attacks hit.

Talia reaches for the chain of your necklace, tangling her little fingers in the fine metal, and you finally take her from Mat’s arms, only slightly concerned about wrinkling the chiffon of your lavender bridesmaid dress. She curls up against your chest, her head fitting perfectly under your chin, and you have to swallow back another wave of emotion.

He leans slightly against the doorframe and studies your face. After a beat, he says, “do you think you’re tapering off the Lexapro too fast?”

It’s been three months since you started tapering off, guided by your doctor’s advice, and it’s been hard. Easier now that it’s summertime and Mat’s around every day.

You shrug, shake your head. “I don’t think so, no? I took it this morning anyway,” you sigh, pressing your cheek against the top of Talia’s head. She’s wiggling in your arms, fighting to get loose and run around. “I’ve never been away from her for this long.”

“It’s only been eight hours,” Mat raises an eyebrow. His hand is on your hip now, stroking gently, and you try not to think about the layers of Spanx under your dress, the way your hips have spread since Talia’s birth, the stubborn ten pounds that won’t go away. You’re back in your pre-pregnancy size, technically, but you just don’t feel right in your skin yet and the bridesmaid dress is only serving to emphasize just how off you feel. The extra padding at your hips and chest feels strange to you, even though Mat’s proven time and time again that he can’t keep his hands off of you, no matter your size.

“Yeah,” you agree. “But she’s always with me, all day.”

Mat sighs your name. There’s a little defensiveness in the slope of his shoulders now. “I have her though,” he says. “I can handle her alone.”

“I know,” the words spill out, “I know you do! You’re the best dad, Mat. I just…feel like…like? It’s not that I didn’t think you were okay, I missed her. It’s scary, not to have her with me.” The hiccuping sob is back, shaking your voice, and you have to hoist Talia higher up on your hip. She’s babbling to herself, wiggling around, and you know you should let her toddle around to get some of her energy out before the ceremony, but you can’t seem to let her go.

You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek, trying not to think of the days she was in the NICU, when Mat was gone. You thought you were over that hump, worked through the trauma with your therapist and with Mat, but for whatever reason, today is really hard.

“Hey,” Mat reaches up and brushes at your cheek, wiping a tear away, “I know. Squeaks, I know. But she’s here and she’s okay and you’re not a bad mom.”

“Maybe I wasn’t ready for this,” you huff, embarrassment starting to settle in your stomach. You’re being dramatic. You’d said yes to being a bridesmaid before you even knew you were pregnant with Talia and even after her birth, since Syd and Kristy were also bridesmaids, you’d figured you would be okay surrounded by your friends.

Mat leans in to kiss the corner of your mouth, mindful of your lipstick. “You’re fine. Just a bad brain moment,” he mumbles, using your therapist’s phrase for your anxiety. “T and I are going to be cool during the ceremony and then the three of us will party it up with everyone else, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod, squeezing Talia one more time - getting an outraged squawk from her in return - before passing her back to Mat. They give you matching scrunch-faced smiles and you return a watery smile.

“Say bye to Mommy,” Mat jiggles Talia a bit and she giggles, waving and chanting a ‘bye bye, Mama’ in her sweet little voice.

“Bye bye, baby,” you wave back, your smile more natural now.

Mat leans in for one more quick kiss, Talia shrieking a giggle as she swoops forward in his arms. “You look beautiful,” he whispers against your cheek. “Lucky me, I get to go home with the hottest bridesmaid.”

Normally you’d roll your eyes at his flirting, but today you really needed the compliment. Your stomach warms and you smile gratefully at him.

He and Talia wave at you and she blows kisses, making you laugh as they head down the hallway and off to the outside patio where the ceremony will take place.

You’re feeling better after seeing them and when Syd and Kristy drag you back into the festivities and photographs, it’s fun again.

Mat’s sitting with Casey, Matt, and the kids towards the back of the crowd - daddy dare care while the moms are busy in the bridal party. You catch sight of Mat’s dark head immediately and your heartbeat kicks a little when you spot Talia’s matching dark hair over his shoulder. She’s standing on his thighs, her hands in his for balance, and when she sees you walking down the aisle, she shouts and waves at you, nearly losing her balance and tipping off of Mat’s lap. Casey’s hands shoot out and steady her before she can really go anywhere and you exhale in relief.

You wave at her behind your bouquet, an easy smile on your face.

The ceremony is a blur, your focus on Mat and Talia in the back. Towards the end, he has to slip out quickly with the diaper bag on his shoulder, but he’s back a few minutes later, shooting you a quick thumbs up.

By the time you get inside after photographs, cocktail hour is winding down. You, Syd, and Kristy find your little group immediately - Jack, Reese, and Winnie in a little dance circle in the corner even though there’s no real music playing. Alice, Cole, and Talia are looking rough, interrupted naps and a long day getting the best of the younger crowd.

“Hi!” You call out, setting your bouquet on the table the guys have commandeered, reaching out immediately for Talia. Mat offers her up easily and she clings to you like a little koala. “Missed you, baby,” you murmur, kissing the top of her head.

She’s got a handful of squished French fries, which you didn’t realize until her fingers loosen and a couple of them fall down the top of your dress.

“Ah,” you wince when the cold potato touches your skin. Mat snorts at the look on your face and stands up with a napkin to wipe off Talia’s hands.

“Am I allowed to stick my hands down your top to clean you up or is that public indecency?” He asks with a cheeky smile. There’s a smudge of red on his jaw - ketchup, most likely, and you smirk a little, amused that neither Matt nor Casey felt like telling him about it.

Before you can answer, all four of your friends chime in together, “public indecency,” earning an eye roll from Mat.

He ignores them and blocks your body with his so no one can see his hand disappear into your bra. He fishes out the fries and tweaks your nipple on the way out. You turn a gasp into a cough and glare at him. His answering smile is all faux-innocence.

“Now that you two are done being gross,” Matt rolls his eyes, even though he’s smiling, “are you ready to head in?”

The group is ushered into the main reception hall, floor to ceiling windows giving a gorgeous view of the water and the sun as it dips towards the horizon. The kids run off, pointed towards their table by Syd, and the adults head to the table right next to it, the toddler group accompanying. Talia slumps on your lap, looking like she’s fading a bit, until Mat pulls a piece of his roll off and hands it to her.

She beams at him and you make an attempt to get her to say ‘thank you’ that mostly ends up being gibberish unless she’s saying ‘Dada.’

“Feeling better?” Mat asks quietly, angled in your direction. You reach out to swipe your thumb over his jaw, cleaning off the ketchup, and he frowns down at your hand before huffing a laugh when he sees the condiment smudge.

You nod. “I’m good,” you reassure him with the truth. “I think I just really needed to see T this morning.”

His hand is warm on your knee and he nods, satisfied after he studies your face.

The bride and groom make their entrance, doing away with the entrances for the bridal party except for the maid of honor and the best man, and when it’s time for the couples to join them on the dance floor for the first dance, Mat takes Talia in his arms and after the distribution of kids to adults has happened, you’re dancing with Jack. He looks adorable in his little suit, seriously trying to spin you when he sees Casey twirl Reese.

“Jack, you’re the best dance partner I’ve ever had,” you laugh, helping him out by squatting and twirling under his arm.

He grins at you, showing off a smile of half baby teeth and half-grown in adult teeth. “Make sure you tell Uncle Mat,” he says. “Cause he said he could beat me in a dance contest, but I don’t think he can.”

“I’ll pass along the message,” you grin back. The music speeds up and you start swinging Jack’s arms in wide arcs, making him laugh. You push him out and pull him back in, wrapping him in a hug and tickling his sides. He breaks away and transitions into a few fairly impressive dance moves, including the Robot, which you’d love to know where he learned.

Mat dances over to you, Talia happy in his arms and wiggling along to the music. You take her and shimmy, making her laugh.

“Sick moves, Jacky,” Mat grins, ruffling his blond hair.

“Aunt Squeaks said they’re better than yours,” the seven-year-old shoots back, making an attempt to moonwalk away.

You burst out laughing and Mat turns a betrayed look on you. “Seriously?” He asks. “My moves are amazing!”

“Oh, look,” you smile, turning your head, “dinner’s being served!” It’s not, but it works to make Mat laugh and grab your hand to spin you and Talia in a circle.

Dinner is served a few minutes later and you and Mat trade off on who gets to hold Talia on their lap so the other can eat. Mat ends up with her for a good chunk of the meal, talking over her head and opening his mouth when she tries to reach up and shove a roasted potato past his teeth.

“Hey, cool it, girl,” you laugh, tugging at her hand when she misses his mouth and nearly shoves the potato up his nose. “Daddy doesn’t want to breathe in potato.”

Casey and Matt share a laugh before Matt chimes in, “his nostrils are big enough he’ll be able to breathe around the potato.”

Mat flips them off behind Talia’s back and you join in with their laughter, not even pretending to hide it when Mat turns a betrayed look on you. “My own wife,” he cries dramatically. “No loyalty even in my own home.”

You shrug and feed Talia a piece of your filet mignon. “I can’t fight the truth, baby,” you tease, leaning out of the way when Mat reaches for you to pinch your side.

The dance floor picks up again and you find yourself spinning with Mat’s arms around you, Talia taken by Syd to dance with her and Alice.

“She’s a little party animal,” you laugh, watching her wiggle while holding hands with Alice.

“Gets it from her mom and aunts,” Mat teases, hands low on your back, pulling you flush against his body. You can feel the gentle press of his cock against your hip, semi-hard behind his zipper. “She’s going to be a handful when she’s older, isn’t she?”

You nod. “Oh yeah, I think we’re going to have fun watching her grow up,” you murmur, emotion tightening your throat.

Casey and Matt swing Reese and Winnie in the air, Kristy shimmying with Jack. The little group is all laughter and smiles.

“I’m so glad we were able to do this,” you say after a few seconds. “The mini-vacation, the wedding. I know I freaked out this morning, but it’s nice to be around everyone.”

“Good,” Mat presses a soft kiss to your temple, swaying with you. “I was a little worried, not gonna lie.”

A little knot of guilt tangles in your stomach and you frown into his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” you whisper into the fabric of his shirt. “I know this past year has been…” you trail off, too many adjectives applicable to describe the past year.

Mat laughs faintly, “I know. You don’t have to apologize, I’m just glad we’re pretty much back to normal.”

Over Mat’s shoulder, you watch Jack spin Talia in a circle to make her laugh. She laughs so hard she nearly falls over and your heart skips a beat when it seems like she might hit the ground. Matt catches her back and holds her until she regains her balance, still giggling.

“My mom mentioned coming down for a visit,” Mat continues. “Maybe we can take her up on that, let her babysit and go away for the night, just the two of us?”

There’s something in Mat’s tone, a little cajoling, a little frustrated, a lot hopeful.

You haven’t been away with just Mat since before Talia was born, haven’t even spent more than a handful of hours away from her before this morning, but still, you find yourself nodding. “That sounds nice,” you reply, meaning it.

Mat’s fingers squeeze your hips and you pull back to see his smile, grinning back at him.

It’s not the old normal, but the new normal is pretty nice too.

The night winds down and you leave the reception early, Mat’s jacket draped over your shoulders and Talia passed out in Mat’s arms. You help lead the older kids out to the cars, making sure Reese doesn’t trip over her feet. Everyone gets buckled into their appropriate car seats for the drive back to the Martins’ and you find your eyes closing while Mat drives.

His hand is warm in yours and the radio is playing quietly.

“You look beautiful,” Mat says into the silence.

You crack a small smile and open one eye to look at him. “You said that earlier,” you remind him.

“I wanted to say it again,” he turns to you at the red light and flashes a grin, making your stomach flip with butterflies.

“Well,” you squeeze his hand, “I like hearing it.”

Talia wakes up when you try taking her out of the car, whining and crying for you. Her little hands reach out and you take her from Mat, cuddling her close and stroking her dark curls, hoping she’ll fall back asleep. She’s overtired though and doesn’t settle until all three of you are in bed, her cheek pillowed on your chest and her hands fisted in your shirt.

“Shh,” you hum, quietly starting to tell her a story. She whines and wiggles and Mat drapes his hand over her back too, a warm, heavy weight that’s worked to soothe her since she was born. He tickles her back lightly and scoots closer to you, head propped up on his hand. Talia’s cocooned in between your bodies, her knees tucked up to her chest, and she slowly falls back asleep, her face going slack. Her grip on her stuffed cat loosens, even though the plush toy is wedged under her chin for comfort.

“Sometimes,” you whisper to Mat, looking at him over Talia’s body, “I can’t get over how perfect she is.”

He yawns and nods, dragging the light comforter higher up over you and Talia. “We’re pretty damn lucky,” he agrees. He closes his eyes and curls his body in a c-shape around you and Talia, breathing evening out before long.

You’re tired, but you stay up for a little bit longer, watching your husband and daughter sleep. Your fingers trace the curve of Talia’s nose lightly and she wrinkles it, snuggling closer to you in her sleep. Mat snores softly, his breaths ruffling the back of Talia’s hair.

It makes you emotional, to have your entire heart curled up next to you like this.

With a faint smile on your face, you close your eyes and drift off.

Mat lets you sleep in the next morning and you wake up around eight, with a still hot mug of coffee on the night table and a few rocks and shells next to the mug - Mat must’ve taken Talia out to the beach early. You take your time getting ready, pulling on jean shorts and a tank top over your bathing suit before padding downstairs. Being back in your regular clothes makes you feel more normal than the shapewear and bridesmaid dress from last night. You can ignore the extra few pounds and new shape to your body when you’re just in shorts.

There are pastries on the counter, crumbs and dirty plates indicating that you’re not the first person to wander down for breakfast. You pull off a piece of an almond croissant and pop it into your mouth as you head outside. As soon as you open the back door, you’re treated to the childish laughter and splashing noises from the pool.

“Morning!” Syd calls, waving from a lounge chair. “Come join us.”

Kristy beams at you from the next chair and then almost immediately frowns when Jack cannonballs into the pool, sending a huge splash of water into the air. “Jack! I thought I said no splashing!” She calls as soon as his head pops back above the water.

“But Tal and Cole laugh when I do it,” he argues, pointing at the two youngest, who, sure enough, are cracking up in Mat and Casey’s arms. Mat winks at you and you smile, waving as you take a seat at the edge of the third lounge chair.

“Talia and Cole also laughed when Dad dropped the egg carton, but we’re not going to keep doing that,” Kristy shakes her head.

Jack pouts, but to his credit, stops doing cannonballs and instead commandeers a dragon shaped pool float with Winnie and Reese hanging off the wings, shrieking.

It’s loud and chaotic and it’s perfect.

Mat swims over to the edge, Talia holding onto his hands while she kicks. “Good sleep?” He asks, splashing a little water onto your feet.

“Mhm,” you hum, “thanks for letting me sleep in.”

“Anytime,” he leans back, dragging Talia through the water. “T and I took a nice walk on the beach, chatted about all the birds we saw, picked up lots of treasures for Mommy.”

“Bird!” Talia pipes up, loudly and happily, looking around.

Mat grins at you, inclining his head as if to say ‘see?’

You smile back, giggling a bit, and then Mat kicks off the wall, swimming around and making boat noises while he navigates Talia through the water and around the obstacles of Matt, Casey, and the other kids.

“I love summer dad camp,” Syd sighs, stretching out in her chair. “It’s a nice little break.”

It’s definitely nice to have this summer experience as opposed to last summer’s insanity. You can finally enjoy watching Mat with Talia in the warm weather.

He tosses her a little into the air, catching her before she hits the water, and despite the way your heart lurches, you smile at the sound of her shrieked laughter mixing with Mat’s.

They swim past Matt and Alice reaches for Talia for a high-five, one of Talia’s favorite tricks. She looks startled when her hand keeps going and splashes down into the water, sending droplets flying onto her and Mat’s faces. Your husband laughs and wipes the water from Talia’s face before blowing raspberries against her cheeks.

It’s the cutest fucking thing you’ve ever seen.

You surprise yourself, thinking about a second baby held in Mat’s arms. Neither of you have really talked about it that seriously and you’ve been sort of holding your breath, waiting for your brain and body to feel normal enough to do it all over again. But now, maybe it’s time to really start thinking and talking about a second baby. You do a little quick math in your head, if you get pregnant right away, easy like it was with Talia when you weren’t even trying, Talia would be just around two when a second baby would be born. That’s a nice age difference, even three years like Mat and Liana would be good too.

You chew at your lower lip, watching Mat and Talia. Smiling when she smushes his cheeks in her hands and bonks her forehead against his.

Yeah, a second mini-Mat wouldn’t be so bad.

[thedubiousdallon]

I'm chewing enthusiastically on the possibilities of an AU featuring Taylor, Lisa, and Brian as cluster triggers. Setting aside the incredible AU gymnastics required to make something resembling their canon triggers occur in close proximity and rapid succession to each other, the possibilities of their versions of each other's powers have me frothing at the lips.

I think their versions of each other's powers should still be shaped towards their own traumas, so:

Taylor's version of Brian's power focuses more on the power copying than the darkness. I think when she makes contact with a parahuman, she picks up an extremely weak version of their power for a short time. Like, touching Sundancer would let her make a match flame. But when her bugs touch a parahuman, they also gain a weak version of the power, and she can use a large swarm of very weak powers to very great effect. I think her version of Lisa's power would give her insight specifically on power mechanics and interactions; she can extrapolate power function from seeing it in use or its consequences.

Brian's version of Taylor's power would, I think, be a very direct, more limited form. I think he can, with concentration, manifest bugs out of darkness that he can control to the same degree that Taylor controls her swarm. What he does not get, however, is her multitasking ability, and if he's not maintaining active concentration on a group of his shadow bugs, they dissolve. So manifesting and using more than a small number for a simple task is pretty incapacitating for him. His version of Lisa's power is all about his own presentation; he can intuit how people perceive him and what he would need to do to change their perception of him into something different.

Lisa's version of Taylor's power would be all about information gathering - she can manifest a very small number of bugs under her control, and her control doesn't have much finesse, but she can process their sensory input extremely well. Her version of Brian's power would let her tag people with clinging shadows via projectile - as long as the shadow lingers, she can sense exactly where they are relative to her in great detail.

And that's not even touching on what their cluster power balancing would be! Something fun and psychological that really plays up the opportunity for cluster bleed through and kiss-kill dynamics.

It'd also be a ton of fun to explore how that bleed through affects them all psychologically, especially if they come together at a point in time where Lisa and Brian are as new to and insecure in their powers as Taylor. I think there's room for delightfully frightening shades of codependence only previously visible to shrimp.

And, of course, I think that would all almost inevitably lead to what would be simultaneously the most emotionally horny and emotionally repressed threesome known to man. None of them would be able to look each other in the eyes for weeks - except for Lisa, who Won the threesome, something that is not only possible but extremely Normal and Healthy, thank you very much.

[staravyz]

︖﹖ㅤㅤNerd x Nerd Final Boss...

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ❕️ㅤclick4rules—4masterlist

ㅤㅤ🔭ㅤㅤ—ㅤ(dr stone) ishigami senku x reader

ㅤ﹑tags ... sfw/implied romance but can be read as platonic/headcanons/super random/probably ooc/nerd!reader/procrastinating my homework rn

ㅤ౨ৎㅤ—ㅤa/n﹕science and math is my life and i love senku

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤgeneral

type of friendship that was built off of mutual infatuation for similar subjects (science, math, space) but reader probably isn't as dedicated to science as senku is.

regardless of how intelligent you are, as long as you're passionate about something, then you're pretty cool to him

type of relationship that was built off of the agreement that relationships and marriage are only beneficial in terms of income and taxes LOL

seriously though, senku treasures you just as much as he would treasure any super rare crystal (in the least romantic way you can think of. like this hc isn't intended to be romantic😬😬😰😰)

encourages you to use your talents to your peak potential

senku is super efficient, so he likely multitasks around everything

meaning you're probably body doubling with him most of the time if you're not also doing some outrageous science project

if you're a math nerd, he'll treat you like a human calculator

ㅤ"that's what they told me, so i said in response—"

ㅤ"hold on, what's the volume for a right triangular prism with a base of 1.6 and height of 4.3?"

ㅤ... "to the hundredths, 14.79. anyways where was i?"

ㅤ"rumour being spread in your third period."

ㅤ"oh, yeah, okay so—"

if you're crafty like yuzuriha best believe he's got you doing labour for his side projects 😈

if you're an artist, he'll take your critiscm on blueprints and layouts

if you're also a science freak best believe you're both causing chaos in the lab and making all sorts of borderline illegal devices and concoctions

and if you're none of the above!!! you're listening to hour long lectures about how everything in the world works. you're like a personal tutor student except you were forced into the tutoring

^^^ happens regardless

if there is something senku lacks expertise in, he goes to you.

if you lack expertise on something, you go to him.

personally don't think you two could ever end up as rivals academically, ethically, in any way

mostly because i think senku does not have the time or interest to deal with that

and also because you're somewhat fascinating to him

i mean, it's not common to find another person who shares equal desire to learn as much as one can about everything

you're probably both villainous mad scientists

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤpre-petrification (modern)

academically unstoppable study duo

if you're dating, "date" is likely not a word mentioned between you two at all unless you're referring to the day, month, and year

it's more like you guys do things together and don't really consider it as anything more than that, even if it really is more than that

wanna study together?

wanna walk to the lab together?

wanna check the library together?

wanna do this? wanna do that? together?

senku will ten billion percent deny it because he doesnt realize it, but he's extremely used to being by your side a lot

so being separated from your #1 lab partner post petrification must've been a pain in the ass

speaking of lab partners

senku is definitely hyper independent when it comes to science and such, but whenever the teacher mentioned partners, his eyes automatically drifted to you

bothered you a ton during and out of school so you could help him with projects

you would have had to bug him about how unhealthy hyper focusing on a project and neglecting his other needs is at least once

and that's why he's become better

when byakuya left japan during his little astronaut arc, senku became significantly more attached to you now that there wasn't someone at home who could listen to his lectures or help with his projects

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤpost-petrification

thought of you more than once while he was counting every second that passed

maybe more than twice

or thrice

along with his friends and father, he missed you a bit

and he missed you a bit more each time he passed by another statue that looked like you but wasn't you

clearly fell for your talents and made you a priority to be depetrified as soon as you would be found so you can contribute to the kingdom of science

but some part of him kind of wanted to hold back on finding you so quick and improve the current world at the moment so that when you finally awake, it's less difficult for you compared to how it was when senku woke

basically he wanted to make everything more suitable for your eventual arrival

once your stone body was found, he wasted no time rushing over to pour the revival fluid onto you and see the colour in your eyes reappear, assuring him that after 3700 years he hadn't forgotten how they looked.

communication is a lot more limited in the stone world compared to back then with cell phones and technology

senku is, deep down, at least somewhat concerned about your whereabouts when he isn't informed in advance

won't do anything more than send someone out to look for you if you've been gone for an unnaturally long amount of time and then scold you about the dangers of wilderness and how your lack survival skills will ultimately lead you to your demise instead of back to him

ㅤ౨ৎㅤ—ㅤa/n﹕btw this is extremely short for my taste, and i will 100% be making a part 2 okay 😊🫡 someday.....

©️ staravyzㅤ(¬_¬") do not steal, translate, or repost.

[king-candybug-backup]

Kill Switch: Part Nine

“... Wreck-It Ralph. What an unpleasant surprise.” King Candy greeted upon his descent, wings folding in as he landed nearby. “You’re too early. Vanellope still has the roster race to attend to, so-” “I’m not here to talk to Vanellope. I’m here to talk to you.” At that, King Candy had to consciously suppress the urge to groan. This had better not start becoming a regular thing… Playing nice with Felix was one thing, but Ralph? He could only handle so much of this buffoon… “Well, you chose an inconvenient time.” The Cy-bug flatly responded, walking past Ralph towards his first vantage point overlooking the tracks as the starting countdown sounded off, “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m supposed to be making sure your little friend doesn’t get eaten mid-race.” “What, not capable of multitasking?” Ralph jabbed at him. “Didn’t think your eyes and mouth were intrinsically linked.” At first, the look that comment got Ralph in response was a thoroughly annoyed one… but, that had quickly shifted into a wry, dead smile. “Didn’t think of you as one to toy with the glitch’s safety.”

Read the full chapter on AO3!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight

MORE FAN-ART SHOUTOUTS, not all of them are like, explicitly fan-art, but I'm linking them anyway for the mentions/references DFDGGHCFVHG THANK YOU EVERYBODY FOR THE WONDERFUL POSTS!!!

LOTS OF ARTS FROM @starryside-1, THANKS SO MUCH YO!!! <333 Here's an ADORABLE Candybug, some ANGSTY chapter 8 fanart, and this hilarious meme of Candybug finally being plopped on a therapy couch FHGDSDHCGJVH AND ALSO THIS ONE OF THEM PLAYING CARDS THAT STARRY LITERALLY JUST POSTED, LOOK AT THAT TIMING LOL

Here's some BASED Turbo art from @phantomfairs, part of which in reference to the whole "Turbo went through Ralph's mudpile to spite Gene" thing lmao, VERY GLAD WE AGREE 😂

And here is some ABSOLUTELY STUNNING Kill Switch x Wondergotten crossover art by @lazymonth!!! THANK YOU ALL AGAIN, YOU'RE ALL SO AWESOME, RRRAAAGGGHHHH!!! 💖💖💖

[cosmique-oddity]

Cosmos and Soundwave Story Line

Made with the precious help of my mutuals @gravedwe11er and @polarpasteque

Because we thought maybe the Mecha Universe lacked a bit of a space Nerd :)

Based of @keferon ‘s AU

————————————————————————————

It felt like a rainy day, when the skies cry and you decide to stay at home, watching the weather from a point where it doesnt affect you. Intensitive at even one single drop, usually, you take a blanket and watch at these amount of water, crashing on everything. Set the world all grey.

Well space was just far bigger. Far lonelier and, as a matter of fact....just more far. He watched the little blue planet, with his white volutes the day and all the littles spotlights at night, mimicking the stars all around. Even the Black void of space was captiving, far deeper than all kind of Earth's deepest oceans. We could say....it felt like the little planet was slowly swallowed by darkness.

Cosmos understood why a lot of astronaut came back to Earth and didnt care a lot about Earth matters. How could you pay any attention at some human conflict when the space was so much bigger than human's hybris ?

He shared that opinion. When he made his first trip to the outer space, Cosmos couldnt stop himself but admire the little details, even the more basic ones ever to space life. He was almost distracted from his original mission but, happily, the man was good at multitasking.

Floating like that, in the Hermes I Station, he knew he wouldnt want to return in Earth. Ever.

And while he was gazing at the immensity of the greater dark, he didnt realized how he was trapping himself, definitely, on what he was now calling 'his great loneliness'.

Not that it was any different than on Earth, he always was that silent man, that clever and kind and courageous man. Everyone of his colleague knew to call him if they needed something.

"Call Cosmos, the one with stars and space shuttles on his desk, he is very strong, he can carry that".

He didnt even know when he became 'Cosmos'. He was useful. Everyone knew to call him for help, but the thing was...nobody really knew him for himself. He was Cosmos for everyone because that was the only distinct thing the other could tell about him. He was obsessed with the stars. Pretty average among training astronauts ? Maybe, but Cosmos physically yearned for space and stars. Everything was about that. Escaping Earth. Setting himself on a tiny space box and sort of leave this physical realm. Be among his Kind, the cosmos.

Now, among the stars, he was feeling it. The loneliness. Wasnt that different from before, but maybe more hopeless. He talked with people, yep, everyday. His Job was very important, using all the high tech tool he has at his disposal to find the Kaijus, the fastest possible, and warn the Kaiju's Extermination Organisation. He saved lifes. And on the same side, was trying to intercept any extra terrestrial communication, from Kaijus, to find something, anything that could slow their obliteration.

Cosmos was aware of their war and how they were losing it. But everything was so far in space...the program that choosed to isolate him on that tiny flying box at the edges of their gravity force and Earth's magnetical shield also prevented him from War's horrors. He didnt saw any horrible things he knew were happening. He know it, saw it on internet.

He sighed. Mostly, his work was to watch the AI of his computer do the job alone, and assist any bug he saw.

Lets say they werent a lot of them, and oftenly he was just watching any serie his internet connexion allowed him to watch. Or searching for any weird frequencies on space.

Did he said he nammed the AI Doc ? And was talking to the thing, on top of that ! Doc wasnt a bad person. His answers were just a little bit expected and repetitive...

This day was one of those empty day. No scary alien was threatening humanity. Well, in the film he was watching, Alien, he couldnt say so. Did he mention he was a space nerd ? Even the movies he watched reflected that.

And because IRL Aliens were invading his homeland didnt mean he didnt enjoyed watching similar scenario in movie. He was far from everything. It wasnt affecting him at all, this war.

The latest human he spoke to was a Mech Pilot, codnammed Jazz he was charged to monitor through space. He a was solar person, loving music... Sympathetic, you couldnt possibly hate Jazz even if you knew him only three minutes. He was Talkative enquiring for the astronaut's mental health, alone out there. Cosmos has felt compassion for him. Someone threw him too, in the middle of the biggest knowhere existying. Except everyone knew Jazz and considered, and liked him, so it was certainly difficult for the pilot to leave. It wasnt for Cosmos.

Cosmos knew he was the last living person he saw. Because Jazz vanished. Probably died. And this human was the living being he grieved the most in his whole life. He cried alone in the space station when someone ordered him to stop searching for the silenced voice of Jazz.

They didnt send another man, and that, he was glad. He prefered having emotions toward an undying AI than realizing how many people died around him.

Cosmos was sat at his desk. Question of protocol, he wouldnt imagine not being here and missing a Kaiju and being responsible of Earth's destruction. Slowly dying from oxygene loss or being swallowed by some extraterrestrial giant jaw.....or being held hostage and having eggs layed on him.....

Maybe he should stop watching that movie.

Suddendly, an audio signal howled inside the etricate desk room of the station, Cosmos paused his movie and stood up, enthusiastic. That was the radio signal ! Jazz being finally alive ? An old broadcast lost in space ??

Radio news were the most interesting informations he could have !

All happily, he floated until having the complex system of communication in his hands. He could proudly affirming he knew everything about this machinery. That was his most loyal friend and good news annoncer. And he have been to silent since Jazz disappearance.

Except this time, the intercepted message wasnt translating in words, it wasnt an audio media. His device was displaying error messages. The thing was extremely weird looking. There was some space radio wave, in a frequence he never heard of before now.

Some weird alien wave ? He was displaying itself on repeat, as if it was enscribed into the FSK modulator (that one device used to send signals via frequency through very far locations). He took the headphone and tried to module the initial suit of waves into something audible. Changing the setting everytime he heard a risible ‘pfffuit’ or a deafening ‘SHRIEEEEEERK’. Maybe he would lose his hearing before translating the enigmatic sound wave. And people would be forced to send someone after him. Someone else, less used to loneliness would be where he had been. Wondering the same things. Sleeping in the same berth. Being disposable was always an unpleasant thought.

He slowed immensely the data of the enigmatic wave, and finally began to hear something approximatively human. English it was.

“.....Noise…..”.

An erailled, full of static voice could be heard, close to Cosmos's ear, and all it was saying was a statement about what he was hearing from the beginning of his manipulation. What the hell was this message ? It was coming from so far ? Was it alien ?? Did he finally succeed on the mission of finding another life form or even more interesting, secret Kaiju's comm line ??? Were the extraterrestrial sentient after all ???

He slowed even more and passed on another frequency. The message kept its static and emotionless deincarnated voice but the pronounciation was perfect and audible.

“Noise : excede the safe amount” “Sentient local specie : Endangered” “{QQZERRTEAAASS} : might and will hear”.

What was that ? The first alien broadcasted message in history and it was telling him to shut the fuck up ?

The unbearable piercing scriieech sound before ‘might and will hear’ was not rocket science to understand. That was probably speaking about the Kaijus. Kaiju and danger formed a loving couple from the past decade.

He took some time to mentally register the information before imobilizing. Eyes wide. Another signal was displaying. And its been on display for longer than he noticed. That was Kaiju's detection signal. His heart stopped for a while. Since how long had he been focused on the translation of the alien message ?

Floating as fast as he could. Wich must have been fun to watch if he wasnt alone, Cosmos crossed the distance between the modulator and the board computer for the second time of the day. Faster.

He read, panicking highly, all the pings across the screen and finally allowed his heart to slow down.

He was wrong. He was not that useful. Doc took care of the attack, he…..it warned the Extermination Organisation, and triangulated the position for the intel responsibles back on Earth.

The only thing it needed from Cosmos was writing a report and archive all the attack's metrics.

He sighed. Doc wouldve done very well without him, if he could automatize this part of the script, he would be officialy useless.

He nervously scratched his curly ginger hairs. He hadnt noticed how long they got (not that long but longer than the classic military haircut he adopted at the beginning of his formation). Useless ?

No. Cosmos had now the most important mission of humanity. He had to answer back to the alien form that wasnt (probably) a Kaiju. He worked on Doc's automatization for a while, remembering suddenly he had to eat at some point. Biting proudly in his sandwich, he told the AI.

“I cannot assist you anymore, old friend, i have my own mission to accomplish now, im going to talk to the Alien. And if i can convince him to help, then maybe i can save Earth !”.

A small little voice inside of him asked if he wasnt completely insane and delusionnal and wasnt inventing himself a mission to prove he wasnt worthless. He shut the voice. He was Cosmos ! He would talk to the alien. Peoples would remember him, they would remember because they would survive !

………………….

He spend weeks into trying to imitate the complex alien sound wave. This was so fast, so evoluated, and yet, the data was speaking a perfect english ? How was it possible ?

He frowned.

“Try again buddy, your Alien is going to be bored of you”.

He was calling the very small message he recieved ‘His Alien’ and wrote several copy of what it was saying on papiers and pinged these on the walls. Like a serial killer.

His own message, “Are you another sentient life form ? My name is Cosmos”

Wasnt definitely as professionnal as he would make himself believe, but he was trying to convert it to the same kind of radio wave as he recieved.

He has to remember how he translated the message in the first time.

And invert the protocol.

But his FSK modulator was simply not strong enough. He had to power down a few things. Useless things absolutely. And only for a few seconds. Nothing too dangerous about that. He definitely wasnt a small human in the middle of uncooperative environment.

The man inspired deeply and started his protocol, disabling the lights of the station, and preserving the oxygene system at all cost, along with the pressurisation system and basically all life preserving systems.

It worked. He had his message. He could send him via the FSK modulator.

He pressed the button and smiled deeply. He just send a message to an Alien !

“Hey doc ! Guess who established contact with the Alien ! Oh oh im going to ask him sooo many questions !”.

No answer. Cosmos remembered having to disable settings about conversation in order to efficiently make Doc replace his work.

He felt incredibly lonely.

“Im sorry i had to silence you Doc….”.

The signal of external message ! Again ! And that quickly ??? How.

Hyperventilating, Cosmos giggled to himself and turned to the modulator. The translating part was much easier now that he did it one time.

“Designation : Soundwave”. “Query to Cosmos : why answering ?” “Procedure of making further noise : susceptible to increase the attention of {QQZERRTEAAASS}”.

Oh, so his Alien was really a Soundwave. That was his name…. Funny.

The Kaijus again ? And this weird speaking manner again ? He thought for a couple of second about an adequate answer…But there werent any established protocol in case of contact with intelligent aliens. The Kaijus couldnt speak with them. They tried, so this meaned Cosmos was doing that freely. Nobody knew, nobody done that before. He was free to speak to the Alien as unprofesionnal as he wanted. He could tell his governement later.

“The Quiizertas ? Already noticed us. And attacked, more or less sound wont change anything about that”.

The answer was quicker again

“Prononciation of opposant : incorrect”. “Reading : /’kwin:n'te'zau:n/”. “Status planet ?”

The voice asked. And using the phonetical alphabet with that ?? Where did an Alien learned that ??

Cosmos bit his lips and answered, with an intensified apprehension.

“Planet uuuh. Under attack. Of the Quintessons” He translated with his own vocabulary, excited at the idea of inventing a new word. “Resisting with our technology but its barely enough. We need help”.

“Earth : very small” “efficiency of resistance : surprisingly high”. “Soundwave : cannot provide help at the moment. But i need to understand what is making your fight against quintessons fair”.

Cosmos blinked in front of his modulator.

“What ? Fair ??? We are being destroyed here and he call that a fair fight ?”. He paused. He had more conversation with this Soundwave than with any human being since Jazz. He might getting attached to the outer life form if he kept answering his question with fairness.

“Cosmos, stop. He could look like a pudding, or even not being material”.

Right. The name was Soundwave, the alien could be only made of sound waves.

He could also be a Xenomorph and lay eggs on him at the first occasion. The young astronaut didnt want to die with his stomach perforated !!! It looked very painful in the movies….

“Hoping its a E.T. kind of alien….”

“Are you hostile to my planet or kind ?”.

He shyly asked. Kai- Quintessons were enough trouble for his ‘small’ planet. Oh god it was his new favorite word ! He invented it. Well….technically he just translated with his own alphabet the phonetical alphabet Soundwave gave him. Hm.

His answer was quick.

“Your Specie : dont seems hostile towards our kind”. “Conflict : not wanted”.

Well that was positive at least.

“Is it some kind of space alliance ?”

The answer arrived later than the others times, and for a couple of stressful minutes, Cosmos feared that all of that was just a dream. Wich was possible, considering how he ate the whole pack of his last cookies last night. Maybe he was sick. At this moment, the answer arrived at his ears.

“Alliance : would benefit both of our planets. What is your status among your specie ?”.

Cosmos took some times to take off the headphone and start a gravity-free dance of victory.

“i….made….an alliance….with a fricking alien….!”

Or maybe the Alien would suck all of his internal organes out of his body and lay eggs on his brain. Maybe.

But, but maybe he would save all of them from the Kaiju, and they would befriend their specie ! Yeah. More probable. And Cosmos would be the first human to have made contact with them ! So they would like him. Soundwave might be as excited as himself was to discover another specie ! He would listen everything, because data about alien was a common source of enjoyment. He wouldnt even have to say something interesting !

Cosmos reached Doc's screen and yelled at him with a joyful tone.

“Doc ! Guess who just made the first pacific contact with another life form ! From another planet ! Perhaps even galaxy !”.

All full of wonders and lively, Cosmos answered Soundwave again.

What was the question ? Ah yes, “statut among specie”.

“I am erm…..Space Explorer. And Responsible of all communications to report and locate the Kai….Quintessons”.

He tried to make his post sound cool and not ‘im just a guy assisting an AI far more developped than me and honestly i feel useless”.

“Soundwave's statut : Communication and Information Officer among Cybertronian's forces”.

That sounded very military. The good or bad side of this information was debatable. On one hand it was surely better than just have Soundwave as an ally. But an Alien army ? It was more dangereous than just innocently talking to Soundwave… For a random reason, he had the impression the word ‘among’ has been twisted a little in comparaison of the otherwise perfect pronounciation of Soundwave's voice.

“Great i suppose. This mean we are kind of similar in statut….?” “By the way…..”

He cut himself at the middle of his answer, thinking about it before answering. What was the most pressing question about the extraterrestrial being at the other side of his spatial Phone ?

Wait. He had it.

“How do you speak exactly the same language as me ?”

That was a question. For the first time since the recieving of that first call, Cosmos wondered if someone was just playing with him since the beginning, making him look like a fool for his own distraction. Wont be the first time. Was Soundwave an Alien ? What stupide name was even Soundwave ? The answer stopped his spiraling.

“Soundwave : recieved radio wave from your planet : cracked the language code. Very interested on a large panel of codes and language, find the understanding of foreign dialects : very stimulating”.

Oh funny one, Soundwave considered his language like a code to break. The Alien was very interesting, and wait a sec

“Your heard the radio waves ? But you must be very far from Earth, the waves must have distorded every sound and mixing with others space sounds”.

“Soundwave : is a great listener”.

What did he meant by that ? But another voice line could be heard now.

“But data from radio waves : insufficient”. “Interfacing with local technology : optimal for the comprehension of your successful resistance”.

Interfacing ?

“You want to come here ? To Earth”.

“Yes”.

That last message was very short but awakened an insatiable curiosity in the Astronaut's heart.

“Oh my god my Alien is going to visit us” he whispered with joy.

One last question, because he felt brave.

“May i continue asking you questions while you uh…..travel to my planet ?”.

“Soundwave : is a great listener. And is feeling curiosity towards your specie”.

The voice repeated his phrasing “May I ask you questions ?”.

And Cosmos's loneliness slowly faded away.

——————————————————————————————

Annnd here is my little Cosmonaute <3 had to make a design for him

Welcome to the ginger club, blorbo.

Soundwave’s is coming soon he will look like his TF One self, with some modifications, in order to effectively hide himself from Earthling that are more Earthling than Cosmos hehe….because tf1 Soundwave is some sort of space ship. It’s not very useful when you want to hide from our paranoid society

(You guys will like it !!)

Ps : Hi Keferon ! I know you don’t necessarily seek for the ramifications of your AU if it doesn’t connect with you but I hope you will like this little story/introduction to my sweet platonic space chilling ship)

[wandasmistress]

Revelations and Reprimands

Synopsis- Wanda overhears the conversation you have with Tommy and Billy when you think she isn't around, she is not pleased one bit when hears what you utter.

Pairings- Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings- Bad parenting (?)

Word Count- 3k

A/N- Gonna post this then dip for a few months. To my followers tho, stay super freaky, have great vagina, I love yaa!!

➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

The rays of sun up above were beating down on your exposed neck like an insistent hot skillet clad onto your back, the sweat glistened on your body making you look like a sizzling hot dog amongst the raging flames on a grill. The heat is the reason why you were only in a white tank top paired with old basketball shorts that have garnered numerous paint stains from moving into your current home a few years ago.

The blaring heat also being the cause for Tommy and Billy to be doused in layers of sunscreen as they protested against Wanda who was stern with them that she didn't want them to get sunburnt, making it her mission to lather every inch of their exposed skin.

As Wanda looked out the window she couldn't help but smile at the sight she had trouble keeping her eyes off of as she prepared a grand lunch for you and the boys. 

She was positioned in front of the sink washing the freshly picked strawberries from her very own garden that she took much pride in bragging about at PTA meetings and in her gardening Facebook group. Constantly glancing out the window to see your crouched form near the sliding back door, spray bottle in hand as you portrayed a concentrated demeanor coupled with Billy and Tommy’s kidlike shouts as they played on the swings with huge toothless smiles that made her heart spin thousands of times over. 

The cold water running down her fingers as she rubbed the ripe berries was a stark contrast to the heat berating you, but not more annoying than the bugs that sought to unionize in various places in your home. Pain from a stiff back and exhausting heat outweighed waking up at three am with a certain someone ripping all the sheets from the bed swearing to have seen a colony of ants congregating by her pillowside. Coupled with the constant excuses Tommy and Billy gave during dinner time, claiming there were tiny critters crawling around in their greens which was a clear lie, although the slight tensing of Wanda’s jaw showed her irritation.

Deciding to multitask with your outside chores, a large white garbage bag is stationed next to your figure, stuffed with various weeds that you had previously pulled from the ground. Now was the perfect opportunity to get this done so Wanda was no longer on your ass, complaining about how the weeds made her garden look messy. You, never being able to say no to her, made the decision for the chores to be completed sooner than later a reality.

Just as you set down the bug repellent to yank a dwindling mini weed, out of the corner of your eye you catch a literal settlement of small and big ants scurrying in a single file line. Your hand already grabbing the spray bottle as you didn’t hesitate to hose down the small colony. Eyes scrunched as you watched the ants scatter and disassemble.

What you failed to notice was Billy’s approaching figure with a quizzical look etched onto his juvenile face. As he came up from behind you with a question on the tip of his tongue Tommy rushed from behind, trying to get him to come back to the swings.

“C'mon Billy, one more round on the swings then we can have a slide race!” Tommy gasped out, his features exuding pure happiness as he attempted to tug his brother along. How he wasn’t breathless from running that long distance to where Billy was standing was something that stuck to the back of your mind.

But Billy was too focused on what you were doing, Tommy’s uproar of a claim already catching your attention and making you aware of their presence, your head twisting in their direction with a smirk represented on your face.

Just then Tommy let out a small squeal at the putrid smell that had just entered his nostril, his small hands coming to cover his nose swiftly.

“Don’t be such a baby, Tommy, it’s just bug repellent. Look mama’s using it to kill the bugs.” Billy stated with a smug smile on his face, knowing that statement would trigger him in some way because Tommy loved to claim he knew everything using the fact that he was older to support that idea. 

The smile on your lips broadens at the banter going on between the prepubescent boys that had started to occur after Billy’s words. “Hey, maybe you guys should take your talk over there. Your mom would kill me if she knew I had you guys over her next to these heavy chemicals.” You remarked as you pointed your gloved finger towards the play set with raised eyebrows.

But that idea was quickly cut off when Billy pointed his stubby pointer finger in the direction of the ground, your gaze turning to yet another wave of ants. You motioned for the boys to move back as you release another wave of chemical death toward the pests. A fresh wave of wind shifted some of the rancid mist in the direction of the boys. Billy’s face scrunched up in disgust while Tommy had let out a mantra of words that you’d never thought you hear come from his mouth in all his youthful glory.

“Holy shit! That stinks.”

An automatic laugh escaped from your mouth before you could really process the situation, Billy’s laughter not helping you reel in your initial shock to chastise Tommy. You blow out some air from your mouth before you try to act like an adult and reprimand him for his language. But the sight of Billy with his hands on his head and huge toothless beam made the thought of telling the kid who stood in anxiousness off. 

“Mama, why are you killing the bugs if they are outside?” Tommy asks in a haze of innocence.

You bite down on your bottom lip trying to find a reasonable answer to tell the young children, “These bugs tend to get inside no matter how hard I try to block them from the inside, you guys aren’t leaving the windows open when you’re not supposed to right?” You add at the end that gets some playful laughter out of the boys. Billy and Tommy chuckle as they grab their bellies, shaking their heads in the negative.

Their cheery laughter makes you look back towards them and question their honesty as you raise your eyebrows with a knowingly look in their direction, the only expression each of them gives is an expression with wide eyes and pressed lips, a look that you have known well when confronting them about their naughtiness. 

You exert a low chuckle at their mischievous behavior, “Don’t tell your mommy I said this but I think it’s her, she’s always leaving them open in our room and in the kitchen.” Silly beams were planted on their faces as they listened closely to your words.

You motioned them closer with your fingers, trying to create more distance from where you guys were huddled and the window you could see Wanda from, who was occupied with her back turned in the kitchen, “Hey listen, when I was in the backyard one day I could hear her singing in our room from all the way down here. Definitely better than Auntie Agatha’s.” 

Loud chuckles are released from their small lungs, the boys go into an uncontrollable fit of laughter when you mentioned Agatha’s not-so-enjoyable singing that she had no problem sharing when she came over every other weekend.

While the boys are coming down from their laughing fit you are quick to spray a spider web that has made its way awfully close to a window that was unsurprisingly cracked open. 

“These damn spiders keep coming back, so I thought if I kill their family they won’t feel at home here anymore. No more children to practice teaching how to spin a web with, and no more momma for them to find pleasure with.” You unconsciously spit out, whispering the last part under your breath. Forgetting the presence of your kids and their innocent minds for a split second, when you do there is a slight freeze in your motions afterward, but what’s the harm if Wanda isn’t around to hear it?

Unfortunately, Wanda had heard every word of that sentence. What you failed to realize was her presence leaning on the threshold of the backyard door. During the time you had been talking to Tommy and Billy, she had fully set up the outside table for the lunch she had completed, only staying to watch you three with a bright smile on her face when she heard the gracious laughter of her godsent boys.

A warm style remained on her face as she watched the sight of you three naturally conversing, but that snug smile quickly vanished from her face the second she heard that far-fetched sentence spoken into existence by you. A cloud of hurt waved over her just elated demeanor, as you told the story about killing the spiders family so it would no longer find your house a home and stay, it hit her close to home in the chest making her hug her stomach as a slight storm brewed within her.

A second before she was about to interrupt the laughter coming from the boys she witnessed something she wouldn’t have thought to occur for years, that specific something coming from her ten-year-old boys. She witnessed Billy and Tommy turning towards each other to exchange whispers with one another, fear and apprehension laced Billy’s face as Tommy had a poised expression. After their whispers, they nodded their heads toward one another and looked your way with that mischievous look they tended to hold when they were about to commit an indecent act.

“Fuck that spider's family.” Tommy voiced brazenly, his and Billy’s eyes gauging your reaction. Waiting to see if you would berate them like Wanda would have if she heard those words come from their mouths. After all, between their two parents, you were definitely the more laid-back one who let more things slide when you shouldn’t.

Wanda’s blood began to simmer at the lack of your reaction, her head tilting to the right as her jaw slightly clenched. Her infuriation rose to an all-time high when you turned around with a smirk on your face and uttered a string of words that managed to turn her evening completely upside down.

“That’s right, fuck their families.” The two giddy children broke into another fit of laughter at your lack of care for what the older twin had spewed moments ago and your response. All the laughter in the next moment immediately stopped with brief words coupled with a tone so daunting all the color drained from you and the two youngsters' faces.

“Thomas. William. Wash your hands.” Her tone was eerily calm as her eyes remained on your frozen figure and nowhere else. The boys quickly looked in her direction while avoiding eye contact, scurrying past her so she couldn’t scold them even for a second. When the boys were out of eyesight her gaze rested on you coldly, your eyes aimed towards the patio as your teeth kept your lower lip interlocked and your thoughts running rampant on all the possibilities of Wanda giving you a much-needed earful. 

Now Wanda knew where the trait of avoiding eye contact when in deep trouble came from which was deeply rooted in the boys. Being shaken out of her thoughts as your figure ascended into a standing position, your eyes finally met her. Wanda still held an appalled look, her eyes staring deadly into yours. A small whimper was released from your parted lips at her chilling glare. You don’t know how much she heard and you didn’t want to know, the thought of the unknown not bothering you in the slightest.

Putting down the bug killer and plopping your dirty garden gloves next to the canister, you make your way over to Wanda’s intimidating figure. A big lump in your throat prevents you from emitting coherent words from your mouth, you stand in front of Wanda, your ability to talk has suddenly disappeared and now you are looking foolish.

Although it doesn't show on your face your heart is thumping so hard like a sledgehammer is consistently pounding on your heart due to the panic coursing through your bones. Wanda’s silence coupled with her intense stare starts to move some gears inside of you that aren’t so appropriate for this situation. With your thoughts being loud, also before you can knock those thoughts out of your head she helps you, “Y/n.”

You stutter with a mixture of fear and nervousness from her intense gaze, “Ok, my bad. You know when you look at me like that it ju-” 

But she is quick to cut you off, not wanting you to deter the conversation from its true purpose, “Don’t.”

That instant you shut up and keep your lips sealed, shaking your head as a fidgety gesture. Her tone assures you of the wrath that is about to come, and rightfully so. Her hands are still crossed as she starts raining down her thoughts of pure discontent with your actions toward allowing the boys to behave that way without a scolding.

Billy and Tommy have neglected to actually go and wash their hands for lunch, instead peaking around the kitchen counter to witness Wanda uncrossing her arms, gesturing frantically with her arms. Your face is filled with regret as you shake your head after every word she says, not daring to utter a single word.

The children watch from beyond with wide eyes and stunned faces, Wanda’s voice starting to rise slightly as you fail to respond to any of the questions she asked. Tommy turns around to Billy with a worried expression, “Does this mean they are gonna divorce?” He whispered, his small body filled with too much unease. 

Billy looks over with a frightened look. “No Tommy, they can’t. When people love each other they can never stop, mommy and mama included.”

Tommy wasn’t at all relieved at Billy’s statement, his worry growing tenfolds at possibly being the cause of his parents leaving each other because of his actions. The boys turned back towards their bickering parents the second they heard your voice that had been radio silent for the past minutes.

“I know baby, I was joking. I promise you I didn’t mean any of it.” You tried to convey to her, knowing her history, internally punching yourself over and over again for even mentioning that earlier sentence. Your hands slowly approach her wrists to provide her some comfort.

She is quick to swat your approaching hands away as her blood is still boiling, her eyebrows scrunching in exasperation, “Don’t baby me right now. You shouldn’t be telling our children stories about killing a bug's family and then proceeding to laugh about it.” She states in such vigor you internally agree to shut the fuck up for the time being, “I don’t give a fuck if you were joking, Y/n, never do that shit again.” She delivers in a tone of finality, her head tilt returning again.

You shake your head in silent agreement, accepting the fact that you fucked up and need to do better. As you look away from Wanda’s piercing evergreen eyes you catch sight of Tommy and Billy peaking at you two from the kitchen, your eyebrows rising in surprise which causes Wanda to turn around and catch sight of them too.

Wanda lets out a strained sigh, pressing her palm against her forehead, not wanting Billy and Tommy to see their parents arguing has gone completely out of the window. Rubbing the creases on her forehead away before she makes eye contact with both of the boys.

Increasing the pitch of her voice she says, “I didn’t know you guys were there sorry, don’t be like your mommy, both of us.” Turning to give you a disturbing glare.

“How comes we can’t say it but you can? “Tommy suddenly implored with bunched eyebrows.

Wanda releases a quick breath in disbelief, shaking her head at the sudden gall he had to ask her such a question, “Because first of all I am an adult, but most importantly your mother.” Her previous high pitch voice was gone.

She thought she had finally cracked the audacity that spawned in the twins today but was taken aback when the next moment they turned their heads whispering to one another then snickering, Billy shoving Tommy’s shoulder with wide eyes, albeit still giggling. You stood where you were, with no intention of getting scolded again or going in between the wrath of Wanda and her parenting. 

Wanda tells them to share what they want to hide so badly, causing Billy to immediately stop his laughter and look like a dear caught in headlights, his eyes looking over to you for a semblance of help that you were afraid to even think about giving, fearful of Wanda’s deathly gaze adorning you again.

Tommy like the brave soul he has consistently appeared to be this evening had no problem telling Wanda what he was just whispering in his twin's ear, “Since that spider's family is dead now they don’t have a momma to pleasure…that it should come find you like Mama said earlier.” He ends with a finger pointing in your direction, practically slapping you while he is at it.

Fuck. Your facial features, body, breathing, and hell even heart stopped for those unsettling few seconds of silence, no one dared move as the tension was almost visible. Your eyes glued onto Wanda’s figure, her body unmoving, but damn was her mind was whirling with a million thoughts swimming words she rather the boys not hear at their young age. 

Your blood runs ice cold as you see Wanda slowly turn her head back in your direction. Her facial features are void of emotion as she deeply stares into your soul. You kept eye contact with her, afraid to even move a single muscle after she waved the twins away to their rooms. And once you saw her head tilt to the right you swear you saw a flash of heavens gates, at least this wouldn’t be the worst way to go out, staring into the eyes of your beloved wife who would be putting you there.

“Y/n!”

Oh shit. Yes oh shit indeed.

»