#This burn is worse than getting arrested

[mediumgayitalian]

“Oh, come on, there’s just —” Will blows an errant curl from out of his eyes, cheeks red with exertion, balancing nimbly on his feet to put both hands on his hips. “There’s no way, Nico.”

Nico, not blessed with such balance, has to hold all footholds with all limbs, staring warily at the lava wall’s snake holes.

“What? I’m just not as good as you.”

Will flops his right arm outwards, narrowly avoiding smacking it against the rock. “But you are!”

Nico shifts his wary gaze from the snake holes to Will’s rope harness. Is it tight enough? It better be tight enough. Will is putting a lot of faith in it, right now.

“You scaled those cliffs in — in the place —” he trips, still, over the pit, on the odd time he mentions it, and it always makes Nico wince — “like it was nothing! And whenever Percy visits and challenges you you’re suddenly the lava wall expert!” He turns stern blue eyes to face Nico’s head-on. “Not buying it, di Angelo!”

A gush of lava forces him to resume climbing, but there’s an aggression to his movements — a specific, stiff, curated aggression, that Nico has learned means anxiety in people known as William Andrew Solace. That, and coupled with the rapid muttering which, in between the roar of molten stone, Nico believes is a a repetition of “dumbass” “always tryna act a goddamn fool” and “I’m gonna kill him before he sends me into cardiac arrest again”, interspersed with random swears in English, Latin, Ancient Greek, and also — gods — Klingon.

“Will.”

Will ignores him, scampering the last few feet up the wall and slapping the top before relaying down. Nico sighs, following him (albeit significantly slower).

“Will.”

“You’re hiding something from me.” He practically rips the harness off his body — do not think about that do not think about that do not think about that — and shoves it on the hook so hard it damn near snaps off. The look he levels in Nico’s direction practically turns him to stone, it’s so frigid, and he has to resist a shiver. “I can tell.”

It takes a good amount of pushing to make Will all testy like this. Sure, his buttons are easy to push, but most of that is for show. He likes to be dramatic. (Especially because he knows Nico will indulge him, more than anyone else ever has. He relishes in it, Nico thinks; he likes that Nico will watch his productions. An Apollo kid through and through.) He’s not usually one to show his genuine frustration.

But, hoo, boy, when he is frustrated.

Nico has a bad, bad habit of making it worse.

(As if it’s his fault that Will’s hot when he’s mad.)

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nico says, forcibly lightly. He sticks his hand out defiantly. “Check me, why don’t you? Not hiding anything.”

He really isn’t. No injuries, no illness, hell, he’s not even tired. Had a full three meals and everything. Even his perpetually achey joints aren’t bad today.

All of this, obviously, is communicated when Will touches him, squinting suspiciously at their joined hands.

“You’re heart rate is high,” he mutters petulantly.

Nico looks at him patiently. “That’s ‘cause my smokeshow boyfriend is holding my hand.”

Grumpy as he’s trying to be, his ears redden. A smile twitches at the corner of his mouth.

“Shut up.”

Nico grins, pulling his hand up to his mouth and pressing a kiss to the knuckles.

“No.”

“Whatever,” Will says, snatching his hand back. His smile spreads widely across his face, now, and he looks away, as pleased as he is exasperated. “You’re still being a weirdo. I should not be so far ahead of you on the wall, Neeks.”

Success — back to nicknames. Crisis averted.

“Have you considered that you’re the camp-wide record holder for a reason, you spider monkey?”

“Still!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Nico gets up on his tiptoes, pressing a lingering kiss to the bridge of his freckled nose. “Stop worrying about me, Solace. I’m fine. Burn off some steam, I’ll watch.”

Will huffs. “Fine. But I’ll find out, y’hear me? Truth can’t hide from me for long.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He watches as Will suits back up, helping him with his more complicated straps (because Nico was raised to be a gentleman, obviously, why else) and shooing him away when he opens his mouth for more interrogations. He switches to sticking out his tongue, and after a moment of hesitation, bounds back over to his first true love — being a big nerdy jock dork.

Nico settles on the grass several feet away from the wall, pretending to clean his sword. After a few minutes, he hears footsteps, and two people sit next to him on either side.

“So,” says Lou Ellen, ignoring Nico’s suspicious look as she tosses a glowing ball of something around, “how come you’re not climbing?”

Nico shrugs. “Only so many times you can climb before it gets boring.”

On his other side, Cecil makes a loud buzzer sound.

“Nope! Wrong answer. Try again.”

Nico is a dignified grownup who refuses to stoop down to Cecil’s level by responding. Instead, he reaches over and pokes him in his ridiculously sensitive ribs, hard, sending him sprawling with a screech.

“Shut up,” he says mildly, as his friend flails. “I’m trying to be a supportive boyfriend, and I can’t do that with all your whining.”

Will has, in the ten minutes since he started, made it halfway up the wall. He seems to have it programmed to the Super Extra Mega Evil Insane mode that the Athena and Ares kids invented just for him, since he smoked all the other levels. He dodges a shot of lava with a laugh, throwing himself to the side and hanging on with three fingers and one scuffed sneaker poised on the tiniest sliver of rock. His attention is broken when Lou Ellen sticks her face right in Nico’s field of vision, tracing Nico’s eyeline with narrowed eyes.

“Ah,” she nods knowingly. “You’re staring at his ass.”

Nico falters, damn near slicing his own fingers off. “No idea what you’re talking about,” he says blithely. He gestures without looking at his sword. “I’m busy, see?”

She scoffs. “Real busy. That’s why you almost just did emergency surgery on yourself.”

“Exactly.”

Will pushes up a foot, shifting his hips and launching himself upwards. He makes a little shout of victory, plastering himself to the wall to keep balance, every muscle tensed.

From his place on the floor, Cecil makes an appreciative noise. “He does have a nice ass. Can’t blame you for looking.”

Nico frowns. “Hey. Stop objectifying my boyfriend.” He reaches out and smacks a hand over Cecil’s eyes. “That’s my job.”

“You guys are ridiculous.”

Nico reaches over and puts a hand over her eyes, too, ‘cause there’s no missing where they’re pointed.

“Shut up or I’ll literally put shadows into your retinae and blind you forever,” Nico threatens. (Is this a thing he can do? No. Do his friends know this? Also no.)

“You’re a dictator!” Cecil protests.

“Depriving us of basic human rights!” Lou Ellen agrees.

Nico shrugs. He glances back up the the climbing wall, where he has a very perfect view — and a great reason to never even try to climb faster than Will does. He grins.

“Too bad for you guys.”

[munsster]

hii!! i'd like to request a steve harrington x fem!reader fic pls <33 reader confesses to steve, but he says he doesn't like her. then reader's all 'okay fine, i'm gonna move on' and when she actually does that, steve is 🥺 lots of angst please and some steve grovelling teehee <33

gut feeling

A/N: okay yes 😏 i screwed this up the littlest bit, but i hope it still tickles ur fancy. also i’ve seen this done for king!steve and i wanted to write it for s4 steven

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have big feelings for Steve, he’s just not sure he feels the same way. 3.6k words.

Warnings: angst, but it resolves into fluff, unrequited love trope, lots of feelings, friends to lovers?, CURSING!, italics, established friendship, feat. Keith 😑

"You think it would be gross if we kissed?"

Steve thinks you might actually sound hurt, but he also thinks the face he's making is hilarious beyond belief: kind of contorted and screwed inward, nose scrunched and trying really hard to batten down a grin. You glare at him from the passenger's seat, arms crossed tight over your green Family Video vest.

You think he's wonderful despite his naiveté. If only he knew how handsome you thought he was, all caramel locks and big brown eyes and the kind of smile that reaches his eyes before he's even thought of it. No wonder he has an ego up to the moon. No wonder he still manages to weasel his way into the creases and crevices of any living creature's heart. Even yours. Hell, especially yours.

"Yeah, duh!"—and he's so sure of it, you could cry—"You're like the little sister I never had!"

You chuckle but you look like you're about to hurl yourself out of the car or get yourself arrested for manslaughter. Thank God he's only a block away from your house, or he'd never see the light of day again. Does he really think of you like that? The soft laughter peters out into a grating silence that burns right down your throat and feels like hard metal settling in your lungs.

He doesn't dare glance over at you. He only bites down hard around nothing and grimaces, eyes set hard on the lines dashing beneath the grill of his car. Jesus Christ, he does not think of you like that. And he begs whatever stupid pride is keeping him steady in this nonexistent pissing contest to leave it be, but its jaw is set in the tender meat of the game.

"Don't have to be so jovial about it," you grumble.

"What?"

"Mine's on the left," you grumble, nodding out the window. Oh, he's definitely in trouble. You only ignore him like this when he's done something boyish to a fault.

"I know. I drive you home every—hey!"

"Bye," you coo, booking it up the steps to your door, refusing to turn over your shoulder for fear that you'll burst into tears upon seeing him smile or frown or crack the slightest look of confusion.

He watches you slam the door and rolls the passenger window up with a frustrated sigh. Where the Hell did that come from and why. All while you're sitting against the foot of your bed, chattering into the phone at Robin, still wearing your uniform and tugging at strands of your hair as expletives weave themselves between every three words.

"Oh my Fucking God, I'm so fucking embarrassed right now, Robs—Does he—? Does he think I'm some sort of fuckin' baby? I just don't—"

"He's just being Steve, okay? He probably didn't mean it—"

"The way he looked at me, Robin, I felt like a fucking imbecile. Of all the dickheads in the world I could fall for, my heart chose Harrington? Maybe I'm the idiot." You sigh and kick your feet out, the frustration winding up new nerves and letting them go like tight springs to fling out over your body.

She sighs and it rattles through the grainy speaker. "You're not an idiot; he has his moments. Don't beat yourself up, you know how he gets. He's probably not thinking straight, just... tell him? The worst he can say is—"

"That I'm like a sister to him? Oh, how delightful. That's even worse than just flat out admitting I'm unattractive."

"You're not unattractive, don't do that."

"I am to him," you groan.

"Hey," she hums after a beat of crackling silence. You close your eyes and grip the sickly yellow receiver a little tighter.

"I really like him."

"I know."

"And it sucks."

"I know." The other end rustles and you let out a curt sigh just as you move to stand. "I love you, and I'm here for you. Especially when dumb boys make you feel like shit. You'll always be the most amazing and most beautiful girl in my life, don't forget that."

"Thank you. I'll see you, Robs."

"Take it easy."

—

Steve wakes up to an ache in his neck and a soreness in his knuckles. You didn't call him last night. And he's assuming you didn't call him before school this morning because his alarm clock flashes eleven, first period starts at eight-thirty, and the tone his ancient landline emits is shrill enough to deafen a man. Let alone wake him up in a cold sweat. He concocts a sick feeling in his stomach of burnt orange shame and maroon guilt because he has to wait until closing shift tonight to explain himself to you.

But by then, he's feeling spiteful. You weren't home when he went to pick you up and he waited ten minutes and knocked on the door in bulk. Until someone who was not you answered and told him that you'd gotten a ride with some jerk from the Hawkins High football team. That's not how it was originally said, but that's how he heard it. So you're avoiding him? It makes him spit up a little in his mouth, and he's going about twenty over the speed limit the entire way to make it on time.

By the time he can fling open the glass door and hear the sound of the tiny bell, he spots you in the back corner with a stack of tapes under your arm. Listening to music. To drown him out. And it makes him frown. Six hours. That's how long he'd have to endure this, then he could go home and not call you and not be able to sleep.

The casette in your Walkman can only run for so long, right? But he watches you rewind it after an hour and a half and slumps against the front desk when you grab a new stack of tapes from behind him. He simmers down after the first half of the shift, and of course, the fact that you won't talk to him rubs him the wrong way, but what's even worse is that now you're bumming rides off of losers on the worst football team in all of Indiana.

He gets worked up thinking about that guy's motivation and how many times he probably tried to make a pass at you. Steve would never do that to you. Even if he wanted to, he's a gentleman at heart. He could beat that jerk to a pulp just imagining him giving you the look. God forbid that sucker puts his hands on you. Steve would get charged with battery before ever letting that happen.

It's not like he can say anything to you about it either. He's pissed, and he knows himself. He'd get all angry and confrontational, and you deserve better than that. It's his fault you got there first, and it's his fault you got to stocking, and it's his fault you're tuning him out. But he didn't think what he said last night would be worth all that trouble.

"If you keep up the optic blast, I'm gonna buy you a ruby-quartz visored monocle." And that droning voice could only belong to one overbearing manager.

"What do you need, Keith?" Steve grumbles, and out of the corner of his eye, he catches you looking to the front of the store to watch the encounter with a smirk.

"Duty calls, Harrington. Corporate sent us more shelf space. Need someone to unload it into the office," Keith murmurs, shooting a glance your way, "And, uh... it's kind of unwieldy, so get the kid to help you out."

It makes Steve's eye twitch because you're not some kid. And if you heard Keith refer to you as such, you'd unleash a fleet of curses on him. Only Steve is allowed to call you that. Because it's funny, duh. You're a year younger than him, obviously he's going to use that to his comedic advantage. Oh.

He lets out a sigh—"alright"—and leaves Keith to man the front while he skirts to the back of the store and leads you by the hand through the office.

"'The Hell, Harrington?" you hiss, but you keep your fingers locked between Steve's, abandoning the rest of the tapes on Keith's desk and jogging to catch up with his stride. As forward and demanding as his grip may be, you have to admit, the warmth of his palm is comforting and it makes your heart race because you've never held hands with Steve before. And in any other circumstance, you might've been able to enjoy it a little more.

"Keith told me to tell you that you have to help me bring a shelf in from the truck."

"Oh, I have to?" you bark, now pulling your hand away and putting your headphones around your neck once you exit through the back door with him. "And you didn't think to give me a warning before yanking on my arm?"

"Yes, you have to, and maybe if you weren't listening to that shit so loud, you would've been in the loop." It comes out far more harsh than he intended, and that was exactly what he was afraid of happening in a confrontation with you. His brow softens, and the tension in his upper back and jaw dissipates into his own self-pity party. "And I didn't yank on your arm. Or at least I didn't mean to, so I'm sorry for that much."

Steve hops up into the truck and offers you a hand you don't take as much as you both wish you would have. Because he looks like a kicked puppy, and you have to stop yourself from cheering yourself on. Maybe this will be your first literal step towards getting over him. Once and for all.

After about fifteen minutes of heaving and ho-ing, the two of you manage to haul the shelf into the office as per Keith's request. He was right: it was unwieldy. The awkward grip spots caused a lot of overlap, and you both flinched away from the physical contact in a matter of milliseconds. But Steve couldn't deny he felt bad, and you couldn't deny that you definitely still had feelings for him.

You grab your previously abandoned stack of tapes to scurry out of the office, but Steve stops you by the elbow. And you glare back at him.

"Sorry. The... yanking, I know"—he shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down—"Look, I'm not entirely sure what happened last night in the car, but it clearly made you uncomfortable, and I'd like to apologize."

He can see the neurons firing when he looks you in the eye, but he can also see that his apology wasn't effective in the slightest. Because you're still anger-ridden and fuming at him. You put your headphones on and go back to restocking shelves.

He checks the digital clock above the door. Two hours till eleven. Great.

And they creep by like refrigerated molasses. Second by second. Every time he glances at the clock, only a minute has passed. Eventually, though, he starts cleaning up for closing: vacuuming, cleaning the windows, fixing the display. And he finds himself getting a little more efficient at checking tapes back in and rewinding them only so you'll cruise by the front—scowling at him, but nonetheless at him—to grab a new stack and shelf it.

Five minutes to closing and a sleek, blue sedan pulls into the parking lot, and you practically beam at it, grinning and skipping to the front. You grab your bag from under the counter next to Steve's hip and shove your Walkman into it.

"You know, my car works perfectly fine," he grumbles, "don't have to replace me with some football jerk." He knows that struck a nerve because your smile immediately flickers away into a squint.

"That football jerk is bilingual, a painter, and lets me listen to the music I like in his car."

"But that's not the rules," he whines, desperately defending himself against some sports guy who's probably taking advantage of you.

"Well, I like him and he's nice to me." You sling your bag over your shoulder triumphantly, marching towards the door.

Steve is aghast at the implication. He thought you liked listening to the radio. Plus he took Spanish and art for the required two years, it's not that great of an achievement.

Still, he sputters out, "Yeah, well—"

You wave over your shoulder. "Later, Steve."

Since when did he become such a loser.

He watches jerk-face open the car door for you then glance over to wave at him with a perfect smile and perfect hair and perfect manners. What an asshole. Steve does not wave back.

—

"That's the kinda guy she likes?" he fusses into the phone, palming his face while Robin chuckles on the other line. This whole time he thought for sure you liked the self-assured, cocky, college-age boy type. And now you're dating a high schooler. Come on, jerk-face is not even that good looking.

"First of all, they're not dating. Second of all, don't lie to make yourself feel better; even I can admit he's basically a Greek god," Robin says, shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth. "Third... why do you care? You’re acting like it’s your job to protect her, but it’s not. She’s an adult now, you know, she can take her of herself.”

He lets out a puff of air through his nose, blinking hard and leaning into the pale yellow receiver. Then mumbling: "She told you."

And she replies, cheerily: "Yup."

"Well—! I just... don't want to see her get hurt. I know that type of guy. I used to be that type of guy. He's bad news, I can tell."

"Right,” Robin scoffs, “It's definitely not because you love her.”

"I don't love her. She's just a baby, and we don't even like the same things. It would never work out between us, there's no connection." They both know it’s a lame excuse, but it’s worked up until this moment. It’s worked since the day you met. You’re too young, the end. Sure, you can be cute sometimes, but you’re also a pain in the ass and you two could never get along long enough to stitch together a real relationship.

But Robin sees through all of that shit. And she’s over it.

“Okay, maybe, but she listens when you talk about cars, and you buy the albums she likes even when she only mentions them once. Plus, you both love Dustin like he's an extra limb”—she’s right, you love that kid to death and Lord knows Steve looks after him like a son—“I think as much as you wretch and complain over her being too young and the connection not 'being there', it seems like you try an awful lot to get her to like you."

He immediately rejects the idea with a scoff.

"Of course I’d want a cool person to like me, old fuckin’ habits die hard. But that's all. She's cool and has a good sense of style and tells the best jokes and makes me feel smart and listens to me, and right now I'm feeling pretty crazy because maybe I do love her and I blew it because... because? Because I don’t know why—but she's probably sitting in some jerk's car listening to her favorite songs and watching him paint the sunset while speaking Spanish or whatever."

Robin closes her eyes, and Steve’s annoyed by the fact that he can hear her smirking. "Jesus Christ, I need to start charging you idiots for my time"—and she sighs—"Just... tell her all that cheese. And maybe throw in an apology or two. I don't know, do what you usually do when you pick up girls.”

He’s frustrated. And annoyed. But he throws a thanks at her anyway and stomps down the stairs and to his beamer. It’s not until he’s shrouded in the piercing light of the convenience store that he realizes three things: he’s still in his work uniform, it’s midnight, and he’s pretty sure he does love you. He grabs a bouquet, not even realizing it’s a bouquet of amaryllis and baby’s breath—he’d prefer roses, but ‘tis not the season, as the cashier told him.

Minutes later, he’s muttering under his breath like he’s mad, waiting for someone to answer your door. And thank God you do.

“Steve—?”

“Oh, shit, did I—were you—?”

“Oh, no, I was just…”—thinking about him—“nothin’. What’re you doing here?”

He pushes a furious hand through his hair, then tucks a chunk behind his ear, worrying at his bottom lip. More nervous than he’s been in his whole life. Then he flashes those soft brown eyes at you, and you’re toast. You step onto your doormat and shut the door behind you because he starts into his sentence like a blazing fire:

"I feel so stupid, and I’m sorry for saying you're like a little sister to me; I don’t believe that, and it couldn’t be further from the truth. You're not like a sister to me, you're like the only thing that matters and I feel like I wanna learn another language for you and take a cooking class for you and listen to your music with you. I just, I mean I’m trying to say you make me want to be a better person, and I feel like I’m already a better person whenever I’m around you. I... what I’m saying—and I promise I’m getting to it—is that I’m sorry for being so stupid and not seeing it before, but I think you're beautiful and I'd be honored if you'd forgive me and maybe consider letting me take you out sometime. Like on a date."

He’s breathing heavily, looking and feeling manic, and your eyes are wide as you slowly process his confession. It goes down like sweet wine, floral down your throat and settling in your tummy like candy. But still: what the fuck? Is he insane? Are you insane?

His hair is flopped to one side, and his work vest is snug around his shoulders. You step forward slowly, and the creases in his forehead seem to go smooth. And you point to the bouquet.

“For me?”

Steve glances down. "Oh, yeah, got em for you. Sorry they're not roses, it's not—"

"I love them, thank you."

He nods. And you smile. And despite how beautiful the soft pink and white flowers are, you’re not particularly focused on their safety when you hook your arms beneath his and rope him into a hug. It’s clearly just what he needed when he goes pliant and heavy against your chest, smiling into your neck as his hands wrap over your shoulders.

"I think we might both be stupid,” you whisper.

He chuckles. "Yup. Just a couple of stupids. Geez, what kinda pair are we?" You both pull away. Only to look at each other squarely. To see a smile creep and creep across the other’s face. And he cocks a brow and says, "By the way, worst twenty-four hours of my life—"

And that’s saying something after the last three years.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Steve, I was just so—"

"I know."

"So confused and disappointed, it was—"

"Torture, yeah, don't even think about doing that ever again,” he teases, pinching your side and scrunching his nose when you pinch him back.

"Yeah. Well, never tell me I’m like a little sister to you ever again.”

Gross.

"I don't plan on it"

With the slow bat of your lashes, and the tender curve of your lips, he can’t not think about kissing you. Not in this light. Not under the meddling moon, and not holding your waist like cupping pools of honey.

Then you look away. For all the shit you talk, he manages to make you far more shy than he ever anticipates. And it gives him butterflies to see you duck away.

"You know, I think you're pretty beautiful yourself, Harrington.”

Oh, he’s blushing now. The blood gushes hot to his face, he could sweat buckets right here and now. You can probably hear his heartbeat. Jesus Christ, what’ve you done to him? You can tell he’s nervous when he chuckles softly. "Does this mean I can start giving you rides again?"

You pretend to weigh your options. As if there would ever be a better alternative. "Only if you let me play my music sometimes.”

"Absolutely. I never liked the radio much anyway."

You let go of him only to cradle your bouquet in both hands, admiring the petals while Steve puts his hands back in his pockets.

"Then I'll see you later," he says. Grinning ear to ear, mind you.

"Yeah,” you coo, “I’ll see you."

With one hand on his shoulder, you plant a kiss on his willing cheek and let him go. But before he can make it to his car you holler, “Wait!” and he jogs back over to you.

"Did I forget somethin’?"

“Yeah,” you poke, "you forgot about our date."

He tilts his head a little, brows furrowed. "Our... our date? What do you mean our… Ohhhh”—he nods in understanding, suddenly hit with a wave of excitement and embarrassment—"Does tomorrow work? We could grab lunch or dinner or something and maybe stop by the arcade or—oh, the fair's in town, that could be kinda fun, unless you don't want to, I mean—"

"Steve?" you hum.

“Mhm?”

"I'd love to."

And suddenly his ego is miles through the roof; he's nodding and grinning and it’s like he can’t wait to wake up tomorrow just to see you again.

"Me too. Okay. Yeah! I'll see you then."

"Bye, Stevie.” You give him a small wave, and the shroud of plastic around the bouquet crinkles like the corners of his eyes at the idea of tomorrow.

masterlist

[tvseries-writings]

Fight for us

Maya x Carina x reader

PLOT: A big fire makes the reader worry more about other people than about herself and her pacemaker is not very happy about it, as are her girlfriends.

TW: heart failure, pacemaker

You didn't think the week could get any worse than it was already going then, all of a sudden, you had received a call from Teddy Altman, your cardiologist, alerting you to the fact that it was time to change the batteries in your pacemaker and that the latter was exhibiting some malfunctions that she definitely wanted to check. You sigh, shrugging your shoulders with the intent to shrug off that phone call before sipping your second cup of coffee. And to think that today is your day off and you are already stressed.

“Bambina, that's decaf right?”

Carina walks up to you and kisses you on the lips, biting your lip and looking at you with a look you know very well.

“No, I would definitely say it's not. You know it's not good for you y/n and besides, move that phone; it needs to be at least six inches from the pacemaker.” You sigh, rolling your eyes and shaking your head, but before Carina can scold you again, both yours and her phone ring. That's never a good sign, never.

“Dr. DeLuca”

“Pamedic Y/n”

And if the week had already seemed like crap to you, the words coming out of your boss's mouth only dangerously dash all your hopes for improvement. You and Carina end the call at the same time and then, after a moment of silence, finally finding the courage to speak.

“There's a fire in Fall City’s forest, I've been asked about-”

“Me too,” you say, looking at your girlfriend and voicing the same thought that is haunting both of you.

“Have they called Station 19 yet?”

“I don't know Bella but since they've called all the available workers I think so.”

You exchange a worried look before you decide to pull Carina into a hug.

“She will be fine love, Maya is a fighter and will always come back to us. Let's go save some lives now.”

........................................................…………………..

You are treating a patient's burns when you see Maya enter the tent where both you and Carina are treating patients. You finish bandaging Kelly, the girl in front of you, before quickly running into Maya's arms.

“Woah, hey, I didn't know they called you guys too.” Maya returns the hug, and although your girlfriend smells like soot, you bask in her scent before pulling away when you hear Carina join you.

You hear them talking but you don't really listen to what they're saying; you're tired, your body is telling you to take a break, and your heart, despite the pacemaker, is really acting up at the moment.

“Y/n, are you okay?”

You realize you're rubbing your hand right over the pacemaker only when Carina stops you by locking your wrist.

“Hey, are you-”

Maya is stopped by a sweaty Warren who comes running into the tent.

“Bishop, we need you. The captain wants you with her.”

Maya gives you a look and then an apologetic smile before hurrying off but not without first giving Carina a look that was definitely not aimed at the Italian.

The two of you watch the blonde leave and just as Carina turns to you to speak, a dozen patients are rushed inside and the Italian is forced to put off questions until later.

You turn to Vic and Travis and run toward them.

“Thirty-nine-year-old female, under cardiac arrest two minutes. Performed two rounds of compressions on scene with no results.”

You nod, quickly slipping on another pair of gloves before replacing Vic, performing a new cycle of compressions yourself as Travis connects the patient to the monitors.

“Vic, get the defibrillator ready.”

You shouldn't exert yourself, you know you shouldn't with the pacemaker discharged, but you really have no choice when you have to choose between your life and a patient's. You swore it to yourself when you took this job.

“It's ready.”

Victoria says and you take the pads from her hands. If Carina saw you using it yourself, she would probably kick your ass and a good lecture in Italian; fortunately, she is very busy at the moment. Travis places the electrodes on the patient's body and then, after a glance, places the paddles on her chest.

“Clear!”

You feel the electricity leave the paddles and see the woman's body lying in front of you jerk before falling back onto the gurney. You will never get used to this feeling.

“There's a pulse, call heli-rescue and keep her monitored until it arrives.”

You say entrusting it to the only two free people in front of you who weren't strictly necessary in there, two residents.

You take off your gloves and throw them in the nearest trash can, quickly procuring another pair before moving on to the next patient then, like a bolt out of the blue, you notice Teddy Altman enter the tent and if your day was already sucking, it now gets drastically worse.

The faint hope that Teddy has not come exclusively for you quickly vanishes when the blonde doctor catches up with you with a look that is anything but friendly.

“Heyy Teddy, what's the best heart surgeon in Seattle doing here? Were you so bored at home that you wanted to help us out?”

You smile, cheekily, before turning to a new patient but before you can even ask her what's wrong, besides the obvious second-degree burn on her shoulder, the cardiac surgeon grabs your arm and drags you away, far enough away from prying ears.

“What the hell are you doing here? A woman came into the hospital and said there was a beautiful paramedic who saved her life and pulled her out of her panic attack by talking about her beautiful girls: an Italian doctor and a blond firefighter.”

You mentally curse yourself for being so specific, dammit. You would have saved yourself at firefighter or doctor, damn it, did you have to be so specific?

You open your mouth to speak, looking for any excuse in the meantime, but before you can formulate one, Teddy starts talking again.

“No no, y/n, don't even try. I had made it clear, no efforts until the checkup and then I find you literally on the biggest fire in years performing CPR?!”

The blonde tries to keep a normal tone even though, from the look on her face, she probably wants to strangle you with her own hands.

“Teddy, look, I know we're friends and you're my cardiologist but you have to understand that I'm also doing my job here. I'm a paramedic and I have to take care of other people's health.”

“I understand that y/n but you won't save anyone when your heart collapses and it will if you don't get checked right away. I came here just for you, I had to ask Bailey's permission and don't think Miranda will let you get away with this recklessness of yours.”

You sigh, moving a lock of hair from your face and thinking about the long lecture Miranda Bailey, who is like a mother to you, will give you as soon as your slender body ends up in front of her judgmental eyes. You're screwed.

“Oh come on Teddy, couldn't you have said some shit to her? Besides, aren't you bound by attorney-client privilege?”

“Well, sure. Or at least we are until the patient turns out to be a danger to himself and-”

The cardiac surgeon's tone of voice rises to such an extent that the speech you are giving is heard by people who should not have heard a single word, such as your very protective Italian girlfriend.

“Hey, Bella is everything okay here? Teddy, hi, did they call you too?”

Carina girds your hips protectively and you lean a little into her grip; the fatigue was already starting to set in before Teddy's visit and now it's only getting worse.

“No, they didn't call me too but I'm here for a patient of mine.”

The Italian observes the look the blonde gives you and it doesn't take her long to realize that you are the patient.

“Y/n, why did Teddy come here for you? Is something wrong with the pacemaker?”

You want to talk, really, tell the truth and face her stern look and a long, long lecture about how you don't take care of yourself but all your attention is diverted to a firefighter, you don't recognize him since he's not from Station 19, who runs inside the tent and talks loudly to Chief Ross.

“Chief, Bishop and Herrera are stuck in a circle of fire and we can't get the flames under control.”

Although there is no shortage of noise in the tent, both you and Carina hear those words perfectly and in less than a second run toward the two.

“What the hell do you mean Maya is stuck? Why hasn't she been pulled out already!”

Carina screams, Italian slipping off her tongue as she does every time she is gripped by a strong emotion, and you know that fear is the strongest and most destabilizing of all, along with love.

Your heart beats in your chest so loudly that you think it might as well pull off the pacemaker, the sounds resulting muffled as you cling to Carina's side to try to calm both her and your crazed heart.

“Apparently Lieutenant Bishop found herself trapped in a circle of fire while she and Herrera were trying to rescue a civilian. We managed to get Herrera out but it was too late for Bishop...now we are trying to transport as much water as we can but they are in a spot we can't reach with trucks and-”

“Damn it, get Bishop out of there at the cost of filling buckets and climbing that damn mountain. Is that clear?”

Chief Ross yells and the fireman jerks before nodding and hastily exiting. Then, the woman turns to the two of you.

“I know it's hard but I promise you we will get Maya out of there; she's a fighter, she'll be fine, I've never met a woman as tenacious as she is.”

The thought of not being able to see Maya again makes your heart even heavier than it already was; you and Carina hug each other tightly, the Italian drops a few tears, and you kiss her head repeatedly, the same way Maya does, caressing her back and suppressing the sharp pain in your chest you are feeling.

“Car..what if last night was the last time we saw her? I can't lose her, not Maya, not today, I can't, I can't,” you sob, the weight of what's happening is too much to keep inside and even though you know you should console Carina, the anguish you're feeling won't let you.

“It will be all right, she will be all right, I must be...” Carina wipes away her tears and then looks up at you, “I am pregnant Bella, it worked.”

And for a moment, for just a moment, you forget where you are and Maya's condition, for just a moment you think only of you, her and Maya holding a beautiful baby and you kiss her. You kiss her deeply and with such passion that if you were not in that situation you would already be on the bed. When you pull away, you run a hand over her stomach and gently caress it with a smile on your face.

“Hey little bean, we love you so much already, you don't know how long we've been waiting for you.”

Carina rests her hand on top of yours and her head on your chest. The adrenaline rush that the news caused you fades and the dull but constant pain in your chest returns like a bolt of lightning as does the fear for the life of the other woman in your life, the other mother of your child.

Teddy, who has been standing on the sidelines up to that point, approaches the two of you and gives you a sympathetic smile.

“I'm sure Firefighter Barbie is fine, she's strong and wants to get back to her girls.”

“Thank you Teddy.”

And then, you hear Carina realize again what you were talking about before you were interrupted.

You sigh and close your eyes for a few moments; Carina turns away from you, and when you open them again, you see her looking at you with the same look you've been dreading ever since you got the call.

“I hope you didn't come here knowing you had problems with your pacemaker.”

Your silence is worth more than confirmation for the Italian.

“O MIO DIO, I can't believe it y/n, you're so stubborn and an idiot I ahh non so cosa fare con voi due, sei mille volte peggio di Maya dannazione.”

You don't understand a single word she said but considering the fact that she is gesticulating…well, you are definitely in trouble.

Fortunately, however, even the wrath of an Italian vanishes when your girlfriend's colleague runs up to you and waves you to follow him and that's exactly what you do, temporarily forgetting what you were discussing.

“Jack, is Maya okay?” Carina says and when the firefighter does not turn to look at you, you fear for the worst: “Gibson, is Maya okay? Is she alive? Is she hurt? Damn it Jack! Answer me!” You yell, shoving the fireman until he turns toward you. His gaze gives nothing away and you are literally about to grab him by the throat but then a familiar face appears in your field of vision.

“Hey, I'm sorry to have worried you. I'm okay, I'm fine, I feared for the worst but the guys managed to pull both Andy and me out of there.”

Maya has an oxygen mask on her face and a blanket around her shoulders but except for that, she seems fine and you think you can squeal from relief. You pounce on her and stuff her face with kisses before letting Carina do the same.

“If you worry us like this again, I'll kill you myself, is that clear?”

“Crystal doc” Maya smiles, leaning over to kiss her before kissing you too.

“Fuck you Gibson” you huff, giving him a shove and he smiles, raising his hands as if to defend himself, “hey, I just wanted you to see it for yourself.”

The fireman walks away and leaves you alone; you rest your forehead on the Italian's back while she and Maya discuss what happened and how Andy is doing. You don't really listen to them; the pain in your chest with Jack's little joke has only gotten worse, and your breath shortens as tiny drops of sweat wet your back.

You have experienced this feeling before, when you had your first heart attack more than four years ago. You feel the pulse in your ears, you cannot even tell whether it is high or extremely low; despite your medical knowledge, you are not clear-headed enough at the moment to tell. You gradually lean more and more against the Italian so much that you almost risk dropping her.

“Car, call...call Teddy. Pacemaker” you whisper and then, everything goes dark as you fall to the ground with a thud.

Carina and Maya freeze for a few seconds before springing into action.

“Hey! We need help, help us!” Carina shouts, turning you over on your stomach and checking your heart rate.

“Maya, I'm going to get Teddy don't move from here, check her pulse and don't you dare take off that oxygen mask.”

The firefighter does not even have time to react that the doctor is already running away.

“Come on love, come on, stay with us.”

Maya massages your chest, checking your pulse and trying at the same time to stimulate your pacemaker. Carina returns in less than a minute, falling on her knees next to your body lying on the floor, followed by Vic, Travis and Teddy.

“Maya, give me her heart rate.”

“32 bpm.”

“Damn, her pacemaker stopped working, it's set on 50 bpm. We need to take her to the hospital and change the batteries or the pacemaker if necessary.”

“The fire has blocked the roads, we can only go to Eli-rescue but it left a while ago and will never be back in less than 40 minutes.” Travis says, looking at the doctor.

“You don't have forty minutes, you don't even have ten minutes.”

Teddy shakes his head, rubbing his forehead as he constantly checks your pulse on the monitor Victoria has diligently hooked you up to. Carina takes an oxygen tank and connects it to a mask that she places on your face, stroking your hair and leaving a kiss on your forehead.

“It will be okay Bella, we are here with you, you have to fight for us. Please.”

The Italian doctor's voice cracks and Maya promptly takes her into her arms, also stroking your hair.

“I have an idea but it is dangerous and I don't know if it will work .”

Maya and Carina cast a glance at each other and then nod.

“Do what you have to but bring her back to us, please.”

Teddy pulls out his stethoscope, auscultating your pulse.

“Montgomery, get the defibrillator.”

Carina and Maya stiffen and look at the monitor. Your heart is not beating above 30 bpm and your blood pressure is dangerously low and falling.

“Teddy, what do you want to do.”

Carina's voice trembles as her hand falls instinctively on your stomach; Maya notices but at the moment is more concerned about you than intrigued by her wife's gesture.

“With a jolt the pacemaker should restart and keep her alive until the hospital or at least I hope so, I only did it one other time in Afghanistan.”

“Did the patient survive?”

Teddy pauses, remaining silent for a few seconds as he applies the electrodes to your chest. Then, after a deep sigh, he turns to the two women kneeling over your dying body.

“No, it was too late for him.”

Carina runs a hand through her hair and then, grabs the blond fireman's hand.

“Maya, I need to tell you something I-”

“Clear!”

The Italian freezes, as does Maya's heart as they watch your body jerk and the terrifying flat line noise that is emitted from the monitor immediately after.

“Come on Bella, please.”

Maya removes her mask and leans over your forehead, leaving a kiss on your temple.

“Come on love, you can do it. Come back to us.”

Your heart starts beating again after one round of compressions from Teddy, and Maya and Carina burst into tears from relief praying that helicopter rescue will arrive in time.

..........................................................................

More than six hours pass before your eyes open and an annoying but familiar pain in your chest, just above the pacemaker, lets you know that you are still in the world of the living. Your hand reaches for the mask on your face but before you can pull it off, a hand stops you.

“Hey, no, you have to keep it on a little longer Bella.”

Carina leaves a kiss on your forehead, turning a small smile to you and intertwining your fingers.

“Welcome back love” Maya smiles at you. She still has her oxygen mask on and at the sight, your stomach knots.

“Are you okay? What are your oxygen levels?”

You sit up and reach toward the fireman; your gaze is so concerned that Maya strokes your cheek and grabs your hand to kiss your knuckles.

“I'm fine my love, I'm sorry for worrying the two women of my life, or three ,” the blonde's smile increases as she rests her hand on the Italian's stomach and your worried look is quickly replaced by a smile. “We're going to be moms.”

“The best ones.”

“Yes, although two of these three moms should learn to take better care of themselves. Did you understand y/n? It was stupid to ignore the device that helps your heart beat idiot”

“Yes, it was totally irresponsible of you” Maya nods, agreeing with Carina, before patting your leg lightly.

“Don't ever try something like that again, you are too important to us.”

Carina whispers and you notice she is holding back tears so you reach out and push her toward you, dropping her sitting on your lap.

“Oh and don't think this is the end of it, Bailey can't wait to give you a good talking to.”

“Shit, I'm screwed.”

“Yeah but not by us. No sex for two months after what you did.”

You pout and then playfully shove Maya while Carina taps her hand on her forehead shaking her head with a smile on her face.

You do believe you will be good mothers after all.

Thank you for reading! It's not my best work but lately I feel like everything I write sucks so...well, thanks anyway and have a great day!

Buy me a coffee on ko-fi

Taglist: @wandanatsbaby @bioquake-archives @bioquakeweek @daisyjohnsonx @wandanatsgirlfriend @chaekhan @station19 @resilientpendragon @so-no-kissing-then @thearchpitbullmx @ashadash0904 @kingshitonly @alwaysgoodnight @callistic @xjule @yuleni18 @simpforwandanat @alexxislexi @mrsdanversromanoff @coollemonsaresour @hushed-woodsman @razorscooteer @eponine-xx @maniacallinc @michelle170 @classyig @elenaguarnieri @scarletwidow @tati3001 @cristin-rjd @your-my-mission @mr-nicely @hi-i-1 @anniethurs @ktstwice @scarlet-raccoon @maria-403 @goldfishthegr8 @wandanatfan @looiegirl-blog @bioquake-blog @daisyjohnsonx

[heyftinally]

Y'all are going to like this one.

SWIFTIES DON'T TOUCH THIS POST WITH A TEN FOOT POLE, I SWEAR TO FUCKING HELL-

So my friend sent me this article, and I'm going to tell you why I think it's complete bullshit.

1) wishing us a happy Pride month is the BARE MINIMUM. As someone with her presence in the media and social influence, she could - and should - be doing SO much more than just wishing us a happy pride four days in.

2) "the singer has been an advocate for the LGBTQ+ community" not a good one. She seems to only remember us when it's convenient or benefits her in some way. Case in point:

2018 - "When it comes to feelings and when it comes to love and searching for someone to spend your whole life with. It's all just really really delicate. You know?" Taylor then performed her song "Delicate."

2023 - It’s painful for everyone, every ally, every loved one, every person in these communities.

In the first example, the intentional song reference comes off as extremely tacky. This is people's LIVES you're talking about. People are MURDERED for who they are and who they love (or don't love). This isn't an appropriate time to pull out the "oh-so-quirky" act and be cutesy.

In the second, the fact that she can't even center queer people in their own experience is so, SO telling. I promise, however painful it is for allies, it's 1000x worse for us to LIVE it. Allies don't have to wonder "am I going to get hate crimed wearing this?" before they leave the house - we frequently do. To not acknowledge that shows me that everything she says is performative at best.

3) I wouldn't call what she does "advocacy". She mentions us every now and then when it's convenient for her, profits off of us when we fit her marketing plan, and I've yet to find where she actually apologized for the homophobia in the original version of Picture to Burn. Also, she's real good friends with Travis Kelce's dad, who is a raging transphobe (and I bet his kids are, too). You don't get to call yourself an ally if you willingly allow the people around you to be violent bigots.

4) "always" is a strong word for someone who seems to show her support situationally at best. The full quote was "The way for that to happen is for us to continue to keep pushing governments to put protections in place for members of the LGBTQ community. And I promise to always advocate for that." Yet she doesn't do that.

5) what she speaks out, I've noticed that it's nearly always in the states that primarily agree with her. We don't see a whole lot of her "inspiring ally" speeches in places like Texas or Florida. But I've seen plenty of them come out of already notoriously queer-friendly places. If you aren't willing to face the heat of the difficult places along with the comfort of the easy ones, you don't get to call yourself an ally. Allyship is not easy. Anyone remember when Lady Gaga advocated for us in Russia, under threat of arrest, and her response was "arrest me, Russia! I don't give a fuck!"? Yeah, I've never seen even half that level of true commitment from Taylor.

6) STOP. MAKING. STRAIGHT GIRL SONGS. "GAY ANTHEMS"!!!! FFS it's such a slap in the fucking face of REAL, ACTUALLY QUEER ARTISTS that y'all keep calling these piss pathetic straight girl over produced crap songs "anthems". Fucking stop it. If they aren't queer, they don't qualify to be a queer anthem or icon. Start supporting ACTUAL queer artists with ⅛ this energy, for the love of FUCK. This bullshit pisses me off. Do you need a list of queer artists? I'll make you one by hand if you promise to stop trying to label Raylor Swift's straight girl shit songs as "gay anthems".

7) rainbows and gender subversion are not exclusively nor inherently queer. If that's our bar for "gay anthems", the bar is so low Lucifer himself needs a damn Webb Telescope to just barely see it from hell.

[jamjaemin]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖌𝖎𝖗𝖑 𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊

• pairing. Lee jeno x reader

• description. all your sweet husband wants is to put his dick in your mouth —is that so bad?

• ↳ tags. smut (18+), blowjob, slapping, husband!jeno, filthy honestly.

• w/c. 0.6k

• a/n. My mind is wild especially when I'm about to sleep so.. i couldnt hold back.

The hand of Jeno tangles hard in your hair, keeping you arrested and reliant on him for movement until there’s an ache in your neck. His veiny forearm is flexed and resolute, giving you a jostle that puts a sting in your scalp. A whimper escapes you, keeping your eyes squeezed shut. It’s all so much, in such a delicious way, and when the familiar motion of him rearing your head back signals you as to what’s to come, you open your mouth obediently. As you suspected, a heavy tip smacks against your hanging tongue, scraping against tastebuds as it plunges down your throat.

You lurch, violently. Drool spilling from the corners of your lips as he fucks your face, moving you for you like a fleshlight. A pliant and submissive little toy. Without concern over how much you stifle and work through your gags, his hips buck to meet you, shoving his cock further and further in with each thrust. It’s breakneck. That ache in your spine worsens as he uses you. He sees you push your limit, raising yourself to the best of your ability. When you palm his thighs he knows you’re about to push off, so he makes the decision for you, folding over to pull himself out. A thick string of cum and saliva connects the two of you until its weight breaks, glossing your chest and legs like a satin ribbon. You like it rough. So he’ll fucking give it to you.

He cranes your neck back and rears his hand, swinging it to contact your cheek in a resounding smack. It sounds worse than it is, and the burn of it rushes blood to your skin. You cry out as your sex floods with new arousal, dripping down your bare thighs and to the floor. It seems he wasn’t satisfied with the first because he gives you another one, the ends of his fingers slapping you in the same spot, harder than before, flaring up the existing pain. You flinch in preparation for it, and squeak when it hits, backing up out of instinct but that grip on your hair is infallible.

“Look at me.” he tells you, but you can’t do it yet. Holding back tears, you breathe hard through your nose as your pussy pulses with the need to be filled. The taste of his dick is still on your tongue, sweat and bitter pre-cum, the smell of a boy’s crotch gone unshowered for a couple days. He yanks you over by your hair, giving you another firm pat to your cheek to make sure you’re paying attention, “I said, look at me.”

Your brows upturn, involuntarily keening from his actions as the burn on your cheek intensifies. Claws reach out to clutch his forearm as he grabs your jaw, angling you to face him.

You open your eyes for him, and you see him tongue his upper lip beaded with sweat. “That’s right. Fuckin’ slut like you still does what she’s told, huh? You fucking like getting your throat fucked?” he questions in disbelief.

He doesn’t wait for an answer, straightening to tower over you as he pushes his hips forward, rudely nudging the tip of his cock to your lips til it protrudes through. It slides in, and as soon as he’s given leeway he bottoms out, your nose bumping his abdomen as you gag around him.

ᡣ𐭩

a/n. hope you enjoyed! please like and reblog and let me know how u liked this, i know some ppl will find this hot and the others not mwah c:

[fatkish]

I found this post you made and idk how old it is but it was about writing stories to heal inner child to give readers someone who stepped up for them as a kid since they didn’t have someone… idk if ur still taking requests for that, but if you are, any chance you could write smthing related to saving a kid from sex trafficking? Specifically where it was perpetuated by the parents if that makes sense?? Idk. I want Aizawa to come get me outta there lol(I’m okay now). Maybe he was undercover or smthing for a bigger operation and came in contact with.. that. Thanks for reading my whole request ^^;;

Aizawa x SA Victim Child Reader

TRIGGER WARNING: please be aware that the following content contains allusions to rape, the sexual exploitation and abuse of minors as well as unwanted sexual advances. Please be warned

Aizawa goes undercover disguised as a potential buyer for an illegal quirk boosting drug that the reader’s parents are selling and finds readers parents offering reader to buyers as well.

Reader is 12 and still hasn’t developed a quirk yet. They are a late bloomer and their parents decided that their kid needed to ‘help out the family’ since they haven’t developed a quirk

Reader is forced to take lessons on ‘dancing’ in order to entertain the clients. The reader’s parents have made them believe that they are not worth saving and that heroes will treat them like a villain because what they’re doing is wrong and because their parents are ‘evil’

Aizawa was back in his underground days and came upon the house acting as a corrupt hero. He had found an actual corrupt hero who used the drugs and knew about the kid. Aizawa followed the hero and was talking to the parents when they offered the reader to him.

Aizawa, not believing this, actually went to the room and paid the parents before going in alone.

The reader’s parents don’t really care how long people are along with the reader, as long as they pay them good money. The father’s quirk allows him to distort electrical circuits and signals rendering any device that investigators might use to capture evidence of their deeds, to be useless.

Once alone with the reader, Aizawa was revolted by the way the reader was sexualized by their own parents. He talked to the reader and it took some convincing but he eventually gave the reader a phone that they could use to gather evidence from the inside.

After Aizawa left, because there wasn’t anything he could do at that exact moment that wouldn’t make things worse for the reader, he informed the police as well as the other heroes he was working with about the situation and within the next three days, they had all the information they needed in order to get a search warrant and arrest the parents

Aizawa was the one who was in charge of the kid. It was during the raid that the reader’s quirk finally manifested.

Their quirk allows them to build up and store massive amounts of electrical energy and basically turn their body into electrical energy as well as manipulate it. The reader can travel through electrical circuits like landline phones and computers. They can create a force field of electrical energy that fries anything within it as well as control electricity and shape it.

The reader was being ‘used’ by a rather violent man who was being far rougher than anyone had ever been before. It was during all the stress and anxiety that the reader finally had enough. When Aizawa busted the door down he saw the man had been electrocuted to death and had electrical burns all over him.

Aizawa realizes the severity of the situation and instead of using his quirk he decided to have the reader try to control their ability themselves. Aizawa gently removed his goggles and slowly approached the hyperventilating child. He gently talked to them, speaking in a soft voice, he told them that it was over. That their parents have been arrested and that they will never have to deal with this kind of treatment ever again.

The reader obviously wasn’t comfortable with touching others and Aizawa understood that. Aizawa had given the reader the space they needed and made sure to always be within the reader’s sight and also made sure that anyone who had to be near the reader, followed the reader’s directions.

If they didn’t want to be touched, Aizawa made sure they wouldn’t be. If the reader was uncomfortable, Aizawa made sure that whatever was causing it was dealt with. For the first time ever, the reader actually saw and believed that someone was willing to protect them and after a few months the reader was finally comfortable with sleeping in the same room as Aizawa.

The doctors and nurses were worried about the reader since they refused to be touched and would use their quirk to defend themselves. It was only after Aizawa was able to gain the reader’s trust that the doctors had Aizawa be their proxy and do the tests needed. With every test that Aizawa had to do, he would explain in detail what he would be doing, why he was doing it and made sure that the reader felt comfortable and safe, making sure that they understood that they had to give consent before anything would be done.

Eventually a therapist and counselor where provided to the reader to help them deal with the trauma from their experiences. The reader wouldn’t really talk to anyone besides Aizawa

Seeing this the courts as well as the reader’s doctors suggested that Aizawa become the reader’s legal guardian

Aizawa adopted the reader and had Hizashi introduce himself to the reader. After that, the two of them decided to take the reader shopping since this was more of Hizashi’s area of expertise rather than Aizawa’s. They bought clothes for the reader, toys, books, electronics, snacks, toiletries, bedding, furniture, etc.

Once they got to Aizawa’s house, they helped the reader get everything inside and showed the reader their own rood with an attached bathroom. The reader even had a lock on their door that they could control from their side. Aizawa even helped the reader instal one of those chain locks on their door

It took a lot of time but eventually the reader began to trust Hizashi too. Eventually one day the reader had fallen asleep on the couch next to Aizawa. Aizawa was so touched and smiled softly. He made himself, as well as the reader, a promise, he would do whatever it took to keep them safe and make sure that they were happy and felt loved and cared for

(I hope this helps you and that you enjoyed this. I hope that your inner child finds some peace with this and that this helps them heal.)

[neonghostlights]

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Actress!Reader (best friends to lovers-slow burn)

★ A/N: Whoop, Whoop. It’s almost time for the fluff. Not in this chapter though, please read the warnings.

★ Series Summary: It’s the ‘90s in LA and you and your best friend Eddie have both made it big. The following is a series of Interviews, News Reports and One Shots showing you and Eddie’s story throughout the years.

★Chapter Summary: Reader wakes up in the hospital and some confessions are made

★Warnings: READER IS IN AN VERBAL, EMOTIONAL, AND PHYSICALLY ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP (not with Eddie) SOME OF THE ABUSE IS DESCRIBED, hospitals, IV, pain, injury, car accident, arrest, death, threats of killing someone and violence, drugs, angst. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THIS IS TRIGGERING AND PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I HAVE MISSED ANY WARNINGS (18 + ONLY MINORS DNI!!!!)

★Wordcount: 2.2k

Series masterlist

Chapter Eleven: Make It Go Away

Date Unknown

You had been asleep, at least you think you were. Everything had been a blur since you got pulled out of the car. 

Your back hurt. Well, everything hurt but you could really feel your back aching against the hard hospital mattress. You knew there were worse things to worry about in your life right now than the comfortability of a hospital bed but you wanted to allow yourself a little moment of selfishness. 

The nurses and doctors put stuff in your IV that made you feel warm and fuzzy. Whatever it was that they drugged you up with wasn’t strong enough to make all of the pain go away or for your mind to shut up. 

You weren’t even sure how long you had been here.

 Days? Hours? Weeks?

There wasn’t a point when you woke up suddenly. You had just gone from a state of slumber to waking gradually and slowly. You think that your brain was still thinking thoughts when you were supposed to be dreaming peacefully, making being awake right now even more disorienting. 

You could remember the accident which you figured was a good sign. If you had brain damage you probably wouldn’t be able to recall the smell of alcohol on his breath or the way he was screaming in your face while speeding through traffic. You didn’t even realize that the car was going into the incoming traffic until you saw the headlights shining in your face. 

And then that’s when the crash happened. 

It was slow motion, the way the car hit the other car and then before you knew it your world was flipping. 

People ask you a lot of questions after something very disorienting happens to you. The worst part is they expect you to know the answers. 

You hummed a sigh, rubbing the scratchy blankets between your pointer finger and thumb. You’d have to make a donation to this hospital when you got out. You’d make sure to write on the check that it was specifically for them to get better sheets. 

You laughed a little at the thought of it. 

It was amazing how quiet it was here compared to how loud it was before. When you first got here there were a lot of people talking to you, shining lights in your face and poking and prodding you. 

Then you got moved to whatever room you were in now. Now that you thought about it, you had to have passed out a few times because of the gaps in your memories. 

You do remember the yelling though. Someone had been outside of your room yelling in what you had assumed was a hallway. You figured you would just check on them after your nap. 

You went to sit up. Maybe you should check on them now. It seemed like the right thing to do after all of the damage you had caused. 

“Nuh-uh. Don’t do this again here. Lay back down,” a voice commanded. You felt warm, calloused hands wrapping around your upper arms, guiding you back down to the bed. 

You fought them, not liking the way they were making you move in the opposite direction than you wanted to go. 

It reminded you of a lot of times Collins hands had been on you. It made you panic, your breath getting faster as you tried to struggle against him. 

“I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. Please,” you cried, throat rawer than you had expected. You weren’t sure what you were apologizing for. The apologies had never worked before with him but it never hurt to try. Maybe he would show you some mercy after all you had been through. 

The voice shushed you. 

“Everything’s okay. I just don’t want you to rip out your IV.” It was soft voice, sleepy. It was gentleness and caring all wrapped into one. It was a sound you had heard all through childhood. It was a sound that you associated with home. 

It wasn’t Collin. 

It was Wayne. 

“Wayne?” You croaked out, bleary eyes finally cracking open to take a look at the man. You felt the warmth pooling in your eyes and start to run down your cheeks at the thought of him being here.

“It’s okay, darlin. Don’t cry,” he said softly. You could barely make him out between your heavy eyelids and your tears. You felt a sob build up and release from your chest. 

There was a knock on the door and a nurse popped in, speaking to Wayne in hushed tones instead of to you directly. 

“Talk to me,” you begged through a whimper. 

She told you what you already knew. That you had been in an accident and under some heavy medication but that you were okay. She said something about getting the doctor before she whisked out of the room quickly. 

“He’s gone down stairs,” Wayne turned to you and said as soon as the door clicked shut. “He just had to go get something to eat and take care of a few things. It’s the first time he’s left you since he got here. He’s gonna be so torn up that you woke up without him here.” 

You weren’t sure exactly who he was talking about but you nodded pathetically anyway. 

You could see Wayne a little better now. It was dark in the room, making you think it was night time without even looking out of the window. There were little nightlights shining that gave just enough light to make out his face. 

He looked tired, worn down. You hated to think you were the cause of his pain. He had more wrinkles than the last time you saw him, and a little less hair. How long had it been since you saw him? Years? 

You opened your mouth to ask him the question that had been on your mind when the door opened again. 

He looked even worse than Wayne. His hair was disheveled, eyes red and tired. You hadn’t seen him this messy since he got a stylist and publicist. His frame seemed so small, but his voice was undeniable. 

If this was a trick of your brain it would be a sick one. You felt like you were in shock, floating out of your body at the sight of someone you had once known and loved so dearly.

But you knew all too well that that love never truly disappeared no matter how much you tried to avoid it.

“I-I heard the nurses talking and I tried to get back here as soon as I could. You’re awake for real this time,” he said as he approached your bed with a wobbling lip. 

“Eddie?” You asked, thinking that this could be a dream. Waiting for the Eddie look alike to clarify that you were hallucinating and that Eddie wasn’t here nor did he care. 

“Hi,” he said, confirming it was him as he took your hand in his shaking one. “How are you feeling?” 

What a loaded question. How does one person feel after something like this? Was it more shocking to announce that you were more shocked to see Eddie here than to be waking up in a hospital bed.

“Confused,” you admitted, politely, like you were talking to an acquaintance and not like you were talking to your best friend of many, many years. “Why did you ask if I was really awake this time?” 

Eddie bit his lip, staring down at where your hand fit into his. His thumb swiped a few times against the back of your hand and the gesture made you lower your guard slightly. 

“You’ve done this a few times. You’ll wake up some and try to get out of bed or cuss me out.” Eddie smiled at what you were assuming was your choice of colorful language to throw at him. “But then you’d go back to sleep again for a while.”

“How long is a while?” You questioned, trying to push yourself up in the bed with the hand Eddie wasn’t holding onto. Your muscles trembled and protested, weak, so you gave up and laid your head back down on the pillow, turned to look at Eddie who was perched on the side of your bed. 

Eddie and Wayne shared a look before Wayne spoke, “about three days.” 

“Three days?” You repeated, shocked. 

Eddie nodded slowly. 

“Is he-,” you started but needed to swallow a bit before you could get the words out. Your mouth was horrendously dry, it felt like sandpaper and it wasn’t helping the heavy load of the words you were about to say. “Is Collin dead?” 

Eddie gripped your hand a little tighter before letting it go. He ran a shaky hand through hair, not once but twice before he stood up and walked across the room. 

“No. He’s not dead,” Wayne drawled from beside your bed, a concerned eye kept on you to judge your reaction. 

“But he fucking should be,” Eddie scoffed from across the room, fists clenched in his side. “I wish I was able to get in that fucking place. I swear I would-” 

“Eddie, that is enough,” Wayne demanded sternly, sending him a look that was silently telling him to shut up. 

“Wait.” You tried to sit up again and Eddie was immediately at your side, setting the head of the bed up slightly and adjusting the pillows behind your back to make it easier for you. 

“What do you mean? Where is he?” 

“I’m gonna give y’all two a minute. This old man is gonna go get himself a cup of coffee,” Wayne said as he pushed himself up from the chair, grimacing from the pain in his knees from sitting for too long. “I’ll be back,” he said with a wave before walking out the door.

“Eddie,” you begged. “Please. Tell me.” 

“He’s in jail,” he said carefully after he took the spot Wayne was in beside your bed. He reached for your hand again but you jerked away, trying to comprehend the words that were coming out of his full lips. 

When you didn’t say anything, he kept going, “They took him for reckless driving, possession, driving under the influence and evading the police. I’m sure there will be more charges by the time it is all said and done.” 

Your stomach turned. He had to be so mad, so mad at you. You had to get away. You couldn’t let him think that you had any part in this. 

Eddie saw the panic clear on your face. 

“Look at me,” Eddie demanded, voice frantic. “Has he been hurting you? Has this been going on the whole goddamn time?” 

You looked at him, unsure if you should tell him the truth. It was obvious by the way you had reacted right? This wasn’t normal, none of it was. It felt strange for Eddie to not know what had been happening to you. It felt like everyone else in your circle knew but were bound not to say anything. But Eddie really hadn’t been a part of your circle in a long, long time. 

It felt wrong to confirm it, fear gnawed in your gut that Collin would find out. That he would know that you had told and that your punishment would be severe. 

He might really kill you this time. 

Eddie knew what you were thinking. You knew he knew just by the look on your face and the fear in your eyes from being trapped in a body that was too weak to flee for safety. 

He just wanted to hear you say it. He needed the confirmation to further torture himself. 

Eddie could read you. He always had. Lying would be so pointless at this point. 

“He left you there. Did you know that? He got out the fucking car with only a few scratches and ran. He didn’t care if the car was on fire or if you were inside. He didn’t care if he killed someone that night because he fucking ran. So don’t bother protecting him.” 

“I’m not protecting him, Eddie. I’m trying to protect myself.” Your voice cracked at your admission, tears streaming down your cheeks. 

Eddie was closer to you in an instant, hands wrapping around you as he pulled in close to him. 

“I’m so fucking sorry,” Eddie said, his own voice cracking and tears wetting your hair. “No one is ever going to hurt you again. I promise.” 

“What are we going to do?” You asked, pulling away and looking into his tear soaked face. Your best friend looked like he had aged a lifetime from the worrying you had put him through. You had a feeling he had some stories of his own to tell from the time you had been apart. “I can’t go out there anymore. Everyone is going to know and I can’t take the way everyone is going to look at me or what everyone is going to say,” you were going frantic, realization setting in at what this meant for you, your image, and your career. 

“I know what we’re gonna do. It’s not going to fix everything but it’s going to give everything time to calm down and give you time to heal,” Eddie told you, wide eyed. 

“What?” 

“We’re going to get out of LA. Just me and you.”

[in1-nutshell]

Heya! I want to try Rescue Bots request. The Rescue Bots encountered a lazy Decepticon scout Buddy sleeping in the middle of the street that is causing traffic. This version of Decepticon Buddy is very chill and relaxed than they should have to their surroundings, even when their life is in danger. When they try arrested the lazy Decepticon Buddy, Buddy just teleported somewhere else to nap. (This Buddy is an outlier. This Buddy can teleport.) A few days later, another Decepticon (Not Buddy) kidnapped the kids. Lazy Decepticon Buddy asked the other Decepticon what are they going to do with those kids, the other Decepticon responds he is going to torture the kids to force them to reveal where the Rescue Bots are, which Buddy did not like that at all. Buddy asked the other Decepticon to hold the kids for them. Once Buddy gently holds the kids, Buddy shielded the kids views so they don't see Buddy shot the other Decepticon dead in cold blood unexpectedly because they will never condone to harming or killing any kids in any way. Buddy contacted the Rescue Bots to come get the kids while Buddy gently comfort the kids. (Bonus: when the Rescue Bots asked Buddy why they joined the Cons, Buddy responds "The Decepticons gave me an energon cookie.") Characters: Heatwave, Chase, Boulder, and Blades. Please and thank you!

Haven't done a Buddy like this, I welcome the challenge!

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy the Con who can teleport protecting Cody and Frankie

SFW, Platonic, Cybertronain reader

RB

Buddy is a con.

Well, more like Ex-con.

They used to be in the spy unit thanks to their Outlier ability to teleport.

They could have gotten far in the ranks if it weren’t for their laid-back nature and them not wanting to do much fighting.

So, they left the moment they could and kept a low profile on Earth.

They did find their own safe haven on the Island of Griffin Rock.

It was a nice place to be.

They didn’t show themselves to the public, instead opting to watch them in their everyday lives.

Buddy watching the Burns family playing basketball from the wooded area.

“C’mon Cody… a little to the left and…”--Buddy

Kade blocks the ball which bounces off Cody’s head.

“Ow!”—Cody

Buddy gasps.

Kade puffs his chest.

“Sorry Squirt, but when you mess with the champ—”--Kade

BONK!

“OW!”--Kade

Kade looks down at the large stick that had hit him in the head.

“Who threw that?! Dani! It was you wasn’t it!”--Kade

Buddy had a satisfied grin on their faceplate.

“That was for Cody.”--Buddy

They had been considering showing their identity to the community, but ultimately decided against it in fear of the Autobots or any Decepticon finding them.

Or worse, the community not accepting them and then having to find a new home.

They were extremely surprised to see some Rescue Bots at the unveiling ceremony.

Buddy figured that most if not all those bots were no longer operational.

This was just another reason to keep hiding.

They continued their observation of the community and of the Burns family, leading them to find out about the bots working with the small family as well as their location.

Not that they would ever do anything with it anyways.

Their first encounter with the Rescue Bots certainly was one to remember.

They knew that teleporting for long periods of time and long distances made them sleepy…

And they knew their tendency of taking naps anywhere they could…

Yet here they were taking a nap in the middle of a small street in their alt mode.

This eventually caused traffic and that led to some of the bots to come see what the commotion was about.

Chief Burns and Chase are coming on the scene.

The Chief steps out and goes to knock on one of the windows.

“Hello? Is there anyone inside? This is not a parking—”--Chief

Chase spots the Decepticon symbol and feels his energon run cold.

He quickly comms in Boulder and Heatwave.

“Get the citizens out of the area immediately!”--Chase

“Wow, Chase what’s—”--Boulder

“The subject causing the traffic is a Decepticon!”--Chase

“What’s a—”--Graham

“Never mind that! Boulder! You and Blades get the humans! I’m backup for Chase!”--Heatwave

“On it!”—Boulder and Blades

Boulder and Blades make it record time get the civilians out of there.

“Guys what’s going on?”--Dani

Chase transforms and holds his servos out to Chief.

“Chief Burns, step away from the vehicle slowly. That is a Decepticon and of unknown origin.”--Chase

“A Decepticon?”--Chief

The vehicle suddenly starts transforming as Heatwave and the other bots come.

Chase quickly snatches Chief holding him close.

The Con finishes transforming and stretches.

“Primus, I have got to stop taking naps on this street. There’re too many potholes that I know the Mayor wont…”--Buddy

Buddy looks at the bots.

They slowly raise their servos.

“Hey, I mean no harm and all. Just minding my own business here. Just taking a nap…”--Buddy

Heatwave pulls out some stasis cuffs out.

“Yeah, not happening. Tell Cody I said hi!”--Buddy

POP!

“WHERE DID THEY GO?!”—Rescue bots

“How do they know who I am?!”--Cody

Buddy watching from the wooded area behind them.

“So much for good introductions…”--Buddy

The Rescue Team would be on high alert for the next few days after the encounter.

Meanwhile Buddy just watched from afar everything goes down.

It would be one evening that they would receive a ping in their com.

It was from another Decepticon asking for any nearby Cons to come to their coordinates.

Curious, and bored, they answered the call and went to the location.

To their surprise, the location was underneath one of the many caverns under Griffin Rock.

They walked in and was in shocked what they saw.

It was some drone on a data pad on one side of the cavern. On the other side was Cody Burns and Frankie Greene tied up against the wall.

The kids looked okay, a little roughed up, but nothing else.

Buddy walks over to the other Con as calm as they could.

The other Con looks over and smiles maliciously.

“Finally, another fellow Decepticon.”—Random Con

Buddy just waves, watching the other Con go over to the children and grabs them.

Buddy’s servos clench a bit when they see the kids flinch.

“So, what’s with the humans?”--Buddy

“I’m going to do some good fashion torture session to find where those pesky Rescue Bots are. Then send a message to Lord Megatron—”—Random Con

“Hold on, hold on Pal. First, can I hold them? Never held humans before.”--Buddy

The other Con shrugs and tosses the kids to Buddy, who quickly catches them.

“Fine, but no torture. I’m going to be in charge of that.”—Random Con

Buddy readjusts their hold on the kids and smiles gently at them before whispering.

“Close your eyes and cover your ears. Don’t open them until I saw so.”--Buddy

They snag the ropes from the kids and toss them inside their subspace.

Buddy could just hope that the kids had followed their instructions.

“Hey what are you—”—Random Con

Buddy blasts the Con in the chassis.

They make sure the Con was offline before teleporting outside.

POP!

They open their subspace and gently get the kids out.

“You can open those eyes now kids.”--Buddy

Both kids open their eyes surprised seeing the outside of the cave.

Frankie looks at them accusingly.

“What do you want? And where’s your friend?”--Frankie

“Firstly, not my friend. Secondly, no one will have to worry about that guy ever again.”--Buddy

“How can we trust you?”--Frankie

Buddy just shrugs.

“You don’t have to trust me, Frankie.”--Buddy

Her eyes widened.

“How do you know her name?”--Cody

“I know everyone’s name on Griffin Rock, Cody.”--Buddy

“How?”—Cody

That led to a slightly awkward conversation of how long Buddy had been spying on the people of Griffin Rock.

The kids ended up warming up to the Ex-Con who had saved them after another hour of talking before the three realizing that the others were probably worried sick.

Buddy quickly teleported to the back of the Firehouse after that realization, scaring the bots and humans in the process.

It was an even worse impression than before.

Especially when Heatwave nearly tore down the doors and nearly dropkicked Buddy after seeing Cody and Frankie in their servos.

It took another hour of explaining, reassuring, to get everything out.

And some wielding patches for Buddy’s chassis and helm.

The humans were grateful for Buddy getting the kids out of that situation.

Blades and Boulder were more on the forgiving side than Chase and Heatwave.

Heatwave and Chase were much more on edge with this Ex-Con, but after a bit they realized that they really weren’t a threat.

“One thing I still do not understand. How long have you been here and never alerted anyone?”--Chase

“Yeah, how long have you been here?”--Blade

Buddy stops to think.

They look at Cody.

“When Cody was in those white thingys.”--Buddy

“Diapers?!”—Burns Family

“You’ve been here that long!?”--Heatwave

“And you never did any harm?”--Chase

“Why would I? I like this community and the humans.”--Buddy

“It doesn’t seem like the Decepticon thing to do.”--Heatwave

“Yeah, I’ve been to odd ball out forever. Even my recruitment was ‘unorthodox’ to say the least.”--Buddy

“What do you mean?”--Heatwave

“They had energon cookies and offered them if I joined. I left as soon as they ran out.”--Buddy

“…”—Rescue Team

[the-crimson]

I’m just spinning q!bbh in my mind rn I’ve got theories and analysis and bits of it are a stretch and it is rambly and long so it’s going under a cut but here we go XD

Everything he’s done since the eggs were taken has been so incredibly deliberate and he developed this plan when he was in the depths of the greatest despair. According to what he told Baghera today, he developed this plan before the anger stream when he lava cast the presidential office as that was part of the plan to draw out the workers.

So Bad blatantly lying and gaslighting and just being incredibly suspicious to everyone today feels deliberate. It feels like he’s intentionally burning these bridges. The whole gun debacle is a great example of this. I saw a post that suspected bbh took Ron to test Baghera and her loyalty to him by doing something he knows she’d disapprove of and while I don’t think that’s why he took Ron, I defiantly think that’s part of it.

The whole gun thing I feel is Bad’s test for Forever. Bad has lied to his face and changed the story so many times that even when Bad tells him the truth Forever doesn’t care. I think Bad is intentionally pushing Forever just like he is Baghera. He’s pushing him to see what it would take for Forever to cut ties. It’s brutal and is actively hurting Forever just like how Baghera was hurt learning what Bad had done to Ron.

Bad feels no guilt for what he’s done to Ron. All he cares about is what others would think of his actions. He knows what he’s doing is “wrong” but he doesn’t care. Such black and white morality is beneath him. He’s doing what he thinks is necessary.

And that includes his own self destruction. He is testing all of these relationships knowing full well that he might destroy them. He knows Baghera is so much more moral than him and has such a higher value of life so he intentionally showed her something that would shatter her perception of him. Bad knows that trust is very important to forever so he intentionally lies and gaslights him knowing full well that Forever may never trust him again.

Bad created this plan when he was at his lowest point. On an average day, Bad’s value of his own life is nonexistent. He designed a plan to uncover how the federation spies on them knowing full well that it could turn everyone against him. That sure sounds familiar doesn’t it? Bad’s proposed this exact same plan under different circumstances(“joining” the feds to make them worse so everyone revolts against them inspired by his building inspector bit”). He doesn’t care about himself and is willing to throw himself to the wolves and make everyone hate him if it means defeating the federation and getting their children back. Previously, bad never went through with the plan because he wasn’t as desperate but now… during the depths of his grief after the kids were stolen, there was nothing holding him back from complete self annihilation.

I think Tubbo discovering/catching on to bbh’s kidnapping put a hitch in Bad’s plans because now his tests for others are being influenced by an outside variable he can’t control, that’s why he spent the whole day doing damage control. He’s trying to spin the story in such a way that he’s still somewhat in control of the situation. He knows that the cats out of the bag. Everyone is going to suspect him now so what does he do? He spends the day making himself even more suspicious. He admitted to torturing foolish in the past. He admitted to imprisoning forever during the happy pills arc. He admitted to planning on abducting a player in the future. He’s making himself look so much more guilty.

Everything he does is with intent. What could be the intent here? He’s told several people that he wants to be arrested so he has access to the federation prisons/facilities. He’s told several people that he is capable of kidnapping/torturing someone. He denies he’s guilty of Ron’s disappearance while simultaneously making himself look guilty. Is he trying to push the federation? To see if they actually will arrest him? All fingers point to bbh and the federation knows this - they basically say so in the journals Tubbo found. But they continue doing nothing. The workers are warned to stay away from him at all costs but… why wouldn’t they just arrest him? They’ve done so to others for less. That’s the question I want Tubbo to be asking. He’s smart enough to realize there’s something off here. Yes bad has a guy in his basement but why hasn’t the federation done anything about it?

Maybe that’s Bad’s test for Tubbo. Bad knows Tubbo is fiercely intelligent and that he can’t bullshit has way past him so he gave Tubbo so much. Yes there was a lot of bullshit but Bad intentionally gave Tubbo more ammunition against him. Is that Bad’s test? If Tubbo finds proof that Bad has Ron in his basement and the federation continues not to act, will that clear Tubbo of suspicion in his eyes? Tubbo knows the worker Bad is trying to find, is Bad giving Tubbo a chance to unknowingly prove himself by uncovering Bad’s secret? “Has anyone ever told you your too smart for your own good, Tubbo?” It sounded like a threat but it could have been an invitation.

Fred has become an incredibly important npc and I have a feeling he is the key to unlocking the mysteries of the eggs and the great evil. I’m pretty sure he’s the one in the radio transmission that talks about why the eggs disappeared and Ron said he overheard Fred talking about the evil. Fred knows so much more than he lets on and one way or another, the players are gonna find out.

I’m also fascinated by Bad’s conversation with Bagi about Boo. Only after Bagi confessed to telling Forever about the secret did Bad put in his clipboard that she passed the test. We’ll how did she pass the test? She told someone about his secret. We’ll, she came clean about it. She told someone she thought was Bad’s best friend then admitted it. She wasn’t trying to go behind his back and thus was trustworthy. However, as the day went on and Bagi learned about Ron, this changed. Her perception of Bad changed and Bad updated his notes about her in response. She went from trustworthy to sometimes trustworthy to be careful what you tell her. She still passed the test but the level of trust dropped dramatically - which is so fascinating.

At the end of it, I think… through all of this, Bad is gonna burn all his bridges in order to find the eggs and destroy the federation. He’s accepted that at this point. He was so dismissive of Baghera’s concerns for Ron and Bad and almost felt like he was placating her, just telling her what she wanted to hear. If Baghera interferes with Ron, I don’t think Bad will accept that and he would sacrifice their relationship to continue his plans. If anything, I could see him releasing Ron into Baghera’s hands only to capture Fred in his place - and this time he wouldn’t tell a soul.

Just the sudden switch in attitude when everyone triggered his radar was palpable. “Get out of my house or die” he was so furious that this test had been interrupted but he masked it while with baghera. When Bad went flying into the hall of grim shouting at everyone to get out and attacking them mercilessly, you could feel the rage (part of that was the lore secrets being accidentally revealed but still) the entire visit with Ron was a performance for both Ron and Baghera and I feel so bad for Baghera because she’s in an impossible position.

She wants to be there for Bad she wants to support him but this… this is so far beyond what she is willing to excuse from him. This has crossed so many lines but there isn’t any turning back. She doesn’t want to lose Bad either through breaking his trust or being taken by the federation but at the same time she can’t stand by and do nothing. She needs to help him. Unfortunately, that means it’s highly likely Bad will end up immolating their friendship if she pushes too hard.

And just the way Bad acts around Ron is so fascinating. It’s all a performance. The large furnished home. The fridge full of food. The fish. The weird attachment Bad shows - almost a reverse Stockholm syndrome - while simultaneously talking over/for Ron in such a dehumanizing way. It’s so fascinating in the moments when the mask falls away. When Bad was watching Baghera talk to Ron - idk if it was just me - but I felt like Bad was a hawk observing it’s prey. He plays up the sugary sweetness and dependence but he still feels like a tiger prowling the bars of his cage eyeing the snacks on the other side. It’s the way he moves and what he choosss to look at during these scenes idk bbh’s body language is insane and I could devote an entire essay to analyzing it

Like Bad’s stream title before he started stream, there are only two sides. Either ur with him or against him and the only thing he values is finding the eggs and tearing down the federation. He doesn’t care if everyone grows to hate him. He doesn’t care if he grows to hate himself. There are no lines he won’t cross. It’s all worth it. It’s all inevitable.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Do you have any recommendations for fics with Sheriff Stilinski? Like as a major character not just showing up in the background? Or ones that focus on him and Stiles' relationship?

There's not a whole lot where he's the main character. So I have some with sheriff!pov.

Ashes, Ashes by ShanaStoryteller

(1/1 I 2,699 I Teen I Sterek)

The Sheriff gets a call at work - someone's tried to burn down his home with his son inside.

"I thought of you coming here, and finding me dead, of another burnt out husk of a body, something else fire has stolen from you, of you having nothing left to grasp but ashes," John can't even call that a whimper, it's clearly a whine as Derek's hands tighten against Stile's hips, as if his boy will shudder to dust at the mere mention of the possibility unless Derek's hands can hold him into one piece, "and that thought was worse than dying."

Why deja-vu is a dangerous thing by MsCee

(1/1 I 2,887 I General I Sterek)

When something makes his new deputy seize up like only true love can, John Stilinski is prepared tease the ever-living hell out of him. He’s prepared to look up and see some pretty girl with a bit of an edge, with a loud laugh and a bright smile that could coax even his sullen deputy out of his frown.

What he’s not prepared for is to look up and see a very familiar face ambling towards his desk.

The Morning After by mikkimouse

(1/1 I 3,635 I Teen I Sterek)

After the night he'd had, John just wanted a quiet cup of coffee and some toast before his son woke up. This, he felt, was not too much to ask from the universe.

Apparently the universe disagreed, because John came downstairs at 7:30 in the goddamn morning to see a man he'd previously arrested for murder grinding coffee beans in his kitchen

Promise You'll Look After Him by DiscontentedWinter

(1/1 I 9,901 I Mature I Sterek)

Sheriff Stilinski is used to dealing with victims of violent crime. He knows how to approach kids who've been beaten and sexually assaulted.

Except this time it's his son.

It's Stiles.

Adult Wolf by KouriArashi

(56/56 I 232,475 I Teen I Peter/Sheriff)

As if Sheriff Stilinski doesn't have enough to deal with, now he's been attacked by some enormous dog in the forest, and that's normal compared to what happens next...

Re-telling of seasons 1-3B with Sheriff Stilinski being bitten instead of Scott.

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

The hand of SAM MONROE tangles hard in your hair, keeping you arrested and reliant on him for movement until there’s an ache in your neck. His veiny forearm is flexed and resolute, giving you a jostle that puts a sting in your scalp. A whimper escapes you, keeping your eyes squeezed shut. It’s all so much, in such a delicious way, and when the familiar motion of him rearing your head back signals you as to what’s to come, you open your mouth obediently. As you suspected, a heavy tip smacks against your hanging tongue, scraping against tastebuds as it plunges down your throat.

You lurch, violently. Drool spilling from the corners of your lips as he fucks your face, moving you for you like a fleshlight. A pliant and submissive little toy. Without concern over how much you stifle and work through your gags, his hips buck to meet you, shoving his cock further and further in with each thrust. It’s breakneck. That ache in your spine worsens as he uses you. He sees you push your limit, raising yourself to the best of your ability. When you palm his thighs he knows you’re about to push off, so he makes the decision for you, folding over to pull himself out. A thick string of cum and saliva connects the two of you until its weight breaks, glossing your chest and legs like a satin ribbon. You like it rough. So he’ll fucking give it to you.

He cranes your neck back and rears his hand, swinging it to contact your cheek in a resounding smack. It sounds worse than it is, and the burn of it rushes blood to your skin. You cry out as your sex floods with new arousal, dripping down your bare thighs and to the floor. It seems he wasn’t satisfied with the first because he gives you another one, the ends of his fingers slapping you in the same spot, harder than before, flaring up the existing pain. You flinch in preparation for it, and squeak when it hits, backing up out of instinct but that grip on your hair is infallible.

“Look at me.” he tells you, but you can’t do it yet. Holding beck tears, you breathe hard through your nose as your pussy pulses with the need to be filled. The taste of his dick is still on your tongue, sweat and bitter pre-cum, the smell of a boy’s crotch gone unshowered for a couple days. He yanks you over by your hair, giving you another firm pat to your cheek to make sure you’re paying attention, “I said, look at me.” Your brows upturn, involuntarily keening from his actions as the burn on your cheek intensifies. Claws reach out to clutch his forearm as he grabs your jaw, angling you to face him. You open your eyes for him, and you see him tongue his upper lip beaded with sweat. “That’s right. Fuckin’ slut like you still does what she’s told, huh? You fucking like getting your throat fucked?” he questions in disbelief. He doesn’t wait for an answer, straightening to tower over you as he pushes his hips forward, rudely nudging the tip of his cock to your lips til it protrudes through. It slides in, and as soon as he’s given leeway he bottoms out, your nose bumping his abdomen as you gag around him.

[hawkeyetrained]

I'm the Alpha

Derek Hale x reader platonic...kinda? Not properly together but reader has a crush on him

Other Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey

Warnings: canon violence (kinda?), language (like 1 swear), mention of blood, stiles and derek bickering as they do, that’s it I think?

Summary: Trying to help the newly turned werewolf after he was arrested seems to go worse than anyone could have expected. Thankfully the alpha has it covered

Word Count: 1,363

Stiles, Derek, and I were seated in the infamous blue jeep outside the police station. Derek’s new beta was inside, and the full moon was going to be at its peak in moments. It was our job to get in there and hopefully get Isaac out before he tore apart the entire station.

“Ok, now the keys to the cells are in a password protected lockbox in my father’s office.” Stiles began to explain. I leaned between the two seats, listening to my friend tell us the plan. “The problem is getting past the front desk.”

Derek shrugged in the passenger seat. “I’ll distract her.”

Stiles’s face scrunched up in disbelief. “Whoa, whoa, whoa…you? You’re not going in there.” He grabbed onto Derek’s shoulder as he talked. Derek was arrested a few weeks ago thanks to whatever Stiles and Scott shared with the sheriff. A firm glare set in Derek’s eyes the longer the hand that Stiles placed stayed on his shoulder. “I’m taking my hand off.”

“I was exonerated.”

I sighed. “You’re still a person of interest though.”

“An innocent person.” He rebutted, giving me a look like it was obvious.

“You? Yeah, right. Ok, fine. What’s your plan?” Stiles questioned how Derek would distract the front desk officer.

“To distract her.” Derek drew the words out, like Stiles simply didn’t understand the meaning.

“Uh-huh.” Stiles nodded. “How? By punching her in the face?”

I rolled my eyes at my friend, opting to side with Derek, who simply huffed. “By talking to her.” I could barely see the front officer, her hair pulled back into a standard bun as she shuffled paperwork around.

“Ok, all right. Give us a sample. Practice on Y/N. What are you going to open with?” My cheeks burned as Derek and I looked at each other, silence filling the Jeep. “Dead silence. That should work beautifully. Any other ideas?”

Derek shrugged again, turning to look out the front window. “I’m thinking of punching you in the face.”

“Ok, ok. Both of you chill out. Derek can distract her, ok, Stiles? I’m sure he’ll have no problem. I mean, haven’t you noticed how all the girls look at him? He could probably stand there in silence, like you said, and still manage to distract her.” I tried mediating the situation, letting Derek get out of the car before I climbed out through the passenger side. Derek held the door open for me as I jumped out, rounding the car to meet up with Stiles in order to help him get the cell keys.

The relationship between Derek and I was vastly different from him and the two boys. Derek had been cold and quite harsh with Scott when he was first bit, and dismissive of Stiles, but with me, he’d been almost gentle. Derek took the time to help explain some of the things about werewolves to me, so I’d be able to help my friend through the changes, and over time I had developed the biggest crush on him.

As Derek started talking with the front desk officer, Stiles grabbed my hand and pulled me along through a side door and down the hall to his father’s office. I stayed by the window as a lookout as Stiles went over to the lockbox on the wall. He quickly punched in the code and pulled the cover off. “Did you get them?” I asked, watching for anyone in the hall.

“Oh no.” Stiles looked back over to me, showing the empty case before we both headed out of the office. “I’m going to check this way, you go see if you can find Isaac, try to keep him calm.”

“Be careful.” I told Stiles, turning and heading down the hall towards the back of the station. My steps managed to stay pretty quiet as I turned down hall after hall. I had plenty of practice running around the station; having grown up with Stiles as my best friend, I spent a ton of time in the station.

I turned down another hall, only to come face to face with a deputy. “Oh, I um...” I hesitated on what to say, flickering my gaze down to the ground to think. My eyes, however, caught sight of a bloody pant leg and keys hanging from one hand of the officer. Looking back up, I took a step back. “Oh, shit.” I attempted to turn and run, nearly managing to call for Stiles or Derek, but a hand clasped over my mouth, and another wrapped around my chest, dragging me backwards.

My feet thrashed as I tried gaining some footing on the slippery floors, hands trying to pull at the stronger man’s arms around me, but it was no use. I did manage to grab onto the fire alarm lever and pull as I was dragged into the holding area, the alarms sounding and lights flickering instantly.

Finally, the officer, who I was now assuming to be a hunter, threw me to the ground and turned to face the three cells that lined the back wall. I slid back towards a corner of the room, looking at the cell doors to see the middle one barely hanging on to its hinges.

Isaac pounced from the other end of the room, shoving the hunter into the wall near me. He had completely wolfed out, fangs bared and eyes glowing bright yellow as he shoved against the hunter. I scrambled on my hands to the other side of the steel desk in the room, opting for that between Isaac and I should he turn his attention from the hunter. The hunter had pulled a syringe from his pocket, filled with some kind of thick liquid I was sure was meant to hurt or even kill the werewolf in the room. Isaac was too quick though. He managed to catch the hunters hand before it could jab the needle into his skin and twisted. The hunters wrist bent back to a point I thought it was going to snap before he dropped the syringe to the floor, the glass rolling a few feet to be closer to me as Isaac slammed the hunter’s head back into the wall, effectively knocking him out.

Derek stepped into the room with us then, his boot coming down to shatter the glass syringe near me. Isaac had turned his attention from the hunter on the ground towards the sound of shattering glass and whatever he could smell coming from the liquid that seemed slowly onto the tiled floor, his bright yellow eyes stopping dead on me as I still sat on the ground. A deep growl built up in his chest as he turned fully to face me, shoulders tensed like I was the next target, and he was prepared to attack.

I barely had enough time to raise my hands up as a weak form of defense before Derek was in front of me. His arms were slightly flared out at his sides, knees bent into a half crouch, as he let out a loud and deep roar towards the beta. Isaac was on the ground, curled up into the wall opposite me a moment after, hands shaking as they wrapped around his head for protection.

My heart was pounding in my ears still when Derek turned back to me. His eyes were burning bright red but fading back to his normal deep brown as he reached out to me with one hand. My own hand trembled as I held onto his and let him pull me to my feet next to him. “You ok?” He asked, his hand dropping mine but coming up to brush some of my hair out of my face, eyes searching for any wounds or fear I’d have of him.

I let out a shaky breath, but I nodded. “How…how did you do that?” My gaze dropped to Isaac for a moment, noticing that he had shifted out of his wolf form but was covered in sweat and still looked terrified of Derek. A smirk crossed Derek’s face for a moment when I finally looked back up at him.

“I’m the alpha.”

@thetallassgirl @hallecarey1

[starcrime]

my miscellaneous dps headcanons (including some background characters)

neil

has HORRIBLE eyesight. like wayy worse that meeks but he hates wearing his glasses

loves scavenger hunts

charlie helped him realize he's gay (they made out once to 'check' but never had any actual feelings for eachother)

is diabetic but doesn't know it

todd

is so incredibly competitive it's ridiculous. he'll die before he loses a bet

selectively mute

gets his poetry / writing published at least twice. the first time was even before he turned 18

scrunches his nose when smiling

not a morning person. he's dead until noon

knox

is a huge gossip and his grandma's favorite bc of it

can't lie to save his life

loves horseback riding

can't cook. at all. like he burns water

charlie

loves spicy foods and smells

his parents mostly ignored him and his younger sister during their childhood and basically raised his sister himself

but it also gave him a lot of freedom, especially during holidays and school breaks, since his parents always either pawned him off to family or just didn't care where he was 90% of the time.

like, really, they only care about appearances so they get on his back about being disrespectful every once in a while and ignore him the rest that's one of the reasons he acts out all the time he desperately craves attention he never got

tina INSISTS on doing his make-up everytime they hang out. he likes make-up and she's pretty good, so he just lets her

meeks

like todd, he's very competitive, but, unlike todd, he's not a sore loser

has a huge sweet tooth smells like it

was obsessed with nordic mythology in middleschool

matthew ("spaz") was his childhood bestfriend, but they grew apart over the years

is allergic to bees. somehow never remembers to take his epipen anywhere. it's a miracle he's survived this long

pitts

he's a car guy. wants to be a car mechanic

had a crush on neil in like 6th grade

scared of birds

has a stutter and used to have a lisp

gamer boi

not exactly a hc but yall can we acknowledge how sarcastic and bitchy he is??? he's hilarious

knows how to sew

gives the best hugs

cameron

once got arrested and had to call charlie to bail him out. charlie was so proud he bought him ice cream on their way back

has lexical-gustatory synesthesia

his bio dad is dead and he hates his step-father with a passion

is besties with gloria and she finds him hillarious

other

mr keating used to work as a line cook in his teens. also he was a lot like charlie during his highschool years (chaotic & funny)

chris used to do ballet as a kid, but has moved on to cheerleading and gymnastics. her parents are divorced. she lives with her mother and younger half-brother

ginny really should be wearing glasses but she hates them and her parents refuse to buy her more flattering frames. she can't swim. people always share their secrets with her bc she seems like she can keep them, but she’s actually a huge gossip

stick has a twin sister. he is nonverbal and communicates thru asl

gloria is training to be a hairdresser

tina can’t walk in heels taller than half an inch

hopkins has a huge crush on cameron

matthew is an origami master

mr mcallister knits in his spare time. he married a chinese woman who, when he met her, didn’t know any english

i take headcanon and one-shot requests btw

[raineandsky]

#78

(part 1) (part 2)

tw: blood

The first thing the hero notices when they wake up is the agonising flare of pain in their side. It needles at their breaths, burning like there’s a naked flame jammed under their skin. Fucking hell, it can barely wait until they’re conscious.

Something of a pained whine pulls out from their throat before they can stop it. A hand drifts testily to their side to try and assess the damage–what caused it? How bad is it? Can they get back to the agency?—but a gentle hand over theirs stops them.

“Don’t touch it,” someone says, their voice luxuriously soft. “You don’t want to make it worse.”

The hero bursts upright—or tries to. The pain is excruciating before they’re even halfway up. Their breath falls out in agonised tatters, their hand instinctively clamped over the burn like it’ll help. The person next to them just sighs defeatedly.

The hero finally lets their gaze fall on the other person here. A tight black shirt, a mess of untidy hair on his head and the shadow of a beard scratching at his face. Sweet, deep brown eyes, watching, the ghost of a kind smile on his lips.

They’ve seen this man before. In the background, waiting in the shadows of the villain’s brash schemes. A small piece of something always bigger than him. Of everyone the hero has ever expected to look out for them in a moment like this, the person they expected the least was the villain’s henchman.

“I’ll need to change the bandage soon,” the henchman says casually. “I was kinda betting on you staying asleep until I’d done it.”

The hero can only stare at them for a moment, bewildered, before they turn their eyes down to the blood tearing across the bandage on their midriff. The bandage itself is huge, the crimson carving a near-perfect straight line through its centre. It does look three seconds away from giving the hero a nasty infection.

They turn their attention back up as the henchman goes about unravelling a roll of bandage, a pleasant, humming tune leaking from his mouth. Baffled doesn’t come close to the emotion wringing knots in the hero’s chest.

“You were there,” is all the hero can think to say. The henchman nods, the movement almost thoughtless.

“I was.” The bandage is cut with a swift flick of scissors. “[Villain]’s been developing some new weapons. Never seen you go down so hard, jeez.”

The hero watches as the henchman tips some labelless bottle over the fabric. “And now you’re…” The hero trails off, taking in the homely room around them for a clue. “… looking for ransom?”

Something of an unintentional snort bubbles out of the henchman. “Nah. I’m kinda… going against [Villain] by doing this.”

He shuffles his chair forwards to examine the well of blood on the hero’s side. It’s oddly intimate, being stared at this closely. He reaches a hand out to brush a hand against the bandage and the hero flinches in memory of the pain they already caused themself by waking up, but the henchman’s touch is delicate. His fingers leave trails of comfortable warmth in their wake.

“I’ve seen how you work. What you do,” he continues into the silence. His voice is low, like he’s admitting a secret. “It’s admirable. It’s why I felt inclined to help you.”

“And you’re saying this when you’re working with villains?”

Another short laugh springs out of the henchman’s mouth. “I know. I still stand by them—don’t arrest me for saying that—but… I don’t know. There’s something about you.”

“Maybe it’s my irresistible charm,” the hero suggests with exactly zero charm, and the henchman throws them a lopsided grin before ducking his head back down to his work.

Replacing the bandage is easy enough. The henchman’s touch is soft, flinching back at the smallest sign of pain. The pain is barely tolerable anyway, obviously—god, it fucking sucks—but… it’s nice. Being allowed to be in pain, and being allowed to rest when it hurts. Getting injured and not being expected to get back up. Having someone strive to make it hurt less.

The new bandage is cool against the burning agony in the hero’s side, and they sigh contentedly as the henchman carefully presses it against them. “You’ll need to stay a few days,” the henchman says with something of an apologetic grimace. “I don’t know what the rules are for your agency, but you can’t walk through the city like this looking like that.”

The hero glances down at the tatters of their hero’s uniform. If civilians in the city saw them like this, they might panic, might assume the worst, and then…

“Do you have any spare clothes?” they ask hopefully, and the henchman’s remorse slips into exasperation.

“I think you only heard half of that sentence.” He scrunches the old bandage up in his hands, like it’s nothing more than a paper ball he’s going to throw at his teacher. “You look terrible because you are terrible. You need some time to rest.”

“I’m fine.”

“Is the agency going to give you time to heal?”

The hero opens their mouth to retort—of course they will, they look out for us—but they close it immediately. They know that’s not true. The agency would barely let them in the front doors before turning them back out on a mission, bloodstains and all.

They haven’t said a word, but the henchman’s face breaks into an annoyingly smug smirk regardless. “Stay,” he demands as he gets to his feet, “for your own sake.”

He lets himself out with the promise that he’ll be back to change the bandages in a couple of hours. Make yourself at home, but only in bed, because the more you stand up the longer it’ll take to heal and the longer I’ll force you to stay here.

The hero adjusts against the pillows, hissing slightly at the twinge the movement jabs into their side. They don’t mind, honestly. They’re not entirely sure the henchman would have to force them to stay at all.

(next part)

[timdrakescoffeecup]

(Updated Sometimes) Tim Drake Fanfic Masterlist

cw's will not be included, so make sure to check the tags. also might include some jason fics too

Bang, bang by Ididloveyou_once

Tim asks Jason to teach him how to use a gun. (One shot, funny)

The Long Way Home by itsnatalie

Tim and Jason get trapped in a labyrinth that shows their worst nightmares. (Multi, angst, hurt/comfort)

like falling water by naheka

Dick crashes at Jason's place, hopped up on fear gas. (One shot, funny)

Bet on it by Lysical

Damian needs Jason's help to hide something from Bruce. (One shot, funny)

Deliver Yourself by forestgreen

Jason adopts his younger self. (Multi, angst)

Banshee In A Well by liverobinreaction (bugbee)

Tim is five years old when he drowns in his parents' pool. He dies quietly, waiting for parents who love him, but will never be there, to realise that something is wrong. They never show up, and he sinks into oblivion.

When he wakes up and claws his way out of the water, the sun has set, and the lights of his house are on. He is cold and wet and his lungs burn.

But most of all, Tim is alone. (Multi, angst)

Home by sElkieNight60

Tim forgets who he is. (Multi, angst)

Late Night Langoustining by whaleofatime

Jason adopts a lobster. (One shot, funny)

two against the world by carolinaa

While following Batman and Robin, Tim finds a puppy. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

Like a Hinge, Like a Wing by Ultrageekatlarge

Tim blackmails Batman into helping him arrest his murderous uncle. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

See Life As a Worthy Opponent by TriviasGhost

Tim goes to a universe where he never existed. (Multi, incomplete)

The Return by lurkinglurkerwholurks

What the comics neglected to cover after Bruce returns from being lost in time. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

Obedience by Sohotthateveryonedied

Something is seriously wrong with Tim—Jason just knows it. Ever since the Mad Hatter incident, Tim has been acting completely different, and the worst part is that no one believes Jason when he tells them so.

But when the truth is eventually revealed, the whole family comes to realize that the situation is far worse than anyone could have ever predicted. (One shot, angst)

To an Athlete Dying Young by SonoSvegliato

A series detailing Tim’s ascension to Robinhood, with angsty Red Hood vigilantes in the background. (Multi, angst)

Matters of the Heart by DM (Nyerus), Nyerus

Kon need's Tim's help with an investigation in Metropolis. Feelings ensue. (Multi, Timkon)

It Wasn't Real (But We Were Happy) by lurkinglurkerwholurks

“Everyone’s fine. You don’t need me anymore. I told you, Bruce. I told you I’d stay until you didn’t need me anymore.”

“I’m sorry. I stayed too long. I should have... I shouldn’t have waited so long." (Multi, angst)

occam's razor by Beatrice eagle

An in-universe reddit thread about Jason's death. (One shot, funny)

To Try, To Err, To Try Again by theLiterator

Tim knits Damian a present. (One shot, wholesome?)

let's get mischievous by CreamofTomatoSoup

Tim's friend gets possessed by Dionysius. (One shot, angst)

Whoopsie by MichaBerry

Tim forgets to tell that he lost his spleen. Oops. (One shot, angst?)

Latchkey by goldkirk

Tim Drake is thirteen, runs the famous BatWatch blog that has spiraled hilariously out of control, has absentee parents that suit his purposes just fine, is training himself to run the streets at night, and is doing absolutely peachy, thank you.

Alfred and Jason disagree, and get Dick and Bruce involved in figuring out their weird nextdoor neighbor kid’s life. Everything goes uphill from there. (Multi, hurt/comfort, this is a MUST READ for timfics)

Trouble Magnet by strikeyoucolors

"It's like you've been synchronized into passively hostile acts against Tim. Did he do something? Were you brainwashed? Because I now have a son who has been crushed, had his face broken, and been shot. All incidences of friendly fire. " (One shot, funny)

Echoes of You by SilverSkiesAtMidnight

Milk white skin beneath the mud, black hair hanging in muddy clumps around his ears. Blue eyes staring back at him, animal-bright and dilated in the brief moment before he flinches back from the light with a cry of pain that stabs through Jason to the soul. (One shot, angst)

A Simple Life by RenaRoo

Tim Drake is living a simple life in one of the worst parts of Gotham. He makes the best of it, though. He makes for himself the only life he's ever known...

He thinks. (One shot, angst)

The Wound Begins to Bleed by audreycritter

Now that Tim’s moved back to the manor, he just wants a few afternoons a week without Damian around.

Funny how getting that was the catalyst for him becoming a better big brother. (One shot, brotherly bonding)

Hey, Lawman! by dinolaur

Tim goes MIA during lunch. (One shot, funny)

Gotham Banksy by LananiA3O

After finding out that he remains unavenged, Jason returns to Gotham, but instead of deciding to kill Bruce, he decides to channel his rage into a more creative endeavor: spray-painting Gotham until the message is loud and clear to everyone: fuck Batman. (Multi, angst)

Breaking News: Local Teen Given Intervention For Normal Behaviour by yellowrooster

Tim ends up in an alternate dimension where he's considered a drug addict. (One shot, funny)

Bay Through Hell by GordandV

Tim is mermaid. (Multi, AU)

Hot Dog, French Fries by eggmacguffin

Damian tries to hide that he's been hit with a truth serum. (One shot, hurt/comfort)

What happens in Vegas by Ididloveyou_once

Tim and Kon get married in Vegas, while drunk. (Multi, timkon)

Quarter past midnight by Aaren

Instead of being found by Talia after crawling out of his grave, Jason becomes a nurse. (Multi, canon divergence)

(Un)Wanted by Mika-chan (mikarin)

Tim gets kidnapped. (One shot, hurt/comfort)

A Midafternoon Beetdown by whaleofatime

Jason cosplays as a organic farmer. (One shot, funny)

Liminal Space by Calamityjim

Bruce's habit of collecting strays isn't limited by dimension. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

Can't Stay Down (a Documentary) by SonoSvegliato

Tim gets his tonsils removed. (Multi, funny)

Surveillance by smilebackwards

Tim is a civilian who contributes to crime fighting by taking surveillance photos and leaving them on the desktop of the Batcomputer. (Multi, found family)

Chemistry of a Car Crash by anthologia

Tim gets into a car crash. (One shot, hurt/comfort)

Bet It all On Red by centreoftheselights

Instead of becoming enemies, Robin and Red Hood form an alliance. (One shot series, canon divergence)

False Dichotomy by heartslogos

Red Hood calls Red Robin's bandoliers "super convenient idiot handles". (One shot)

don't take you guns to town by kreestar

batman comes home from a night patrolling to find a 10 year old jason todd waiting for him in his kitchen. across gotham, at the same time, red hood is stopped by a 25 year old bruce wayne. (One shot, angst)

Stubborn by audreycritter

When your butler mom calls and says, "Go check on your brother," you don't argue. You just do it. (Multi, sickfic)

I'm Just Fine by girlgeekjf

After rescuing a group of kidnapped children, Tim reflects on what he could’ve done better. (One shot, hurt/comfort)

A Christmas Miracle by Mithen

Damian and Dick go undercover to bust a child-kidnapping ring whose members dress up as Santa Claus. (One shot, funny)

Confidence Lost by C_R_Scott

Everything about Neal Caffrey’s past prior to his 18th birthday is a mystery, even to him. However, when someone unexpectedly recognizes him by a name that he has never used as an alias before, he learns that the biggest con of his life is literally his life. (or, tim is neal caffrey from white collar) (multi, crossover)

Exit Wounds by incogneat_oh

Did you hear this one? A vigilante walks into a warehouse and kills the joker. (One shot, angst)

If the Sky Comes Falling Down (For You) by lurkinglurkerwholurks

Five times Jason saved his siblings, and one time they saved him. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

Normally People Pass Out After by WriterfromGotham

Tim donates blood. (One shot, angst and fluff)

In Living Memory by DangerBeckett

Jason remembers why he stays out of other people's business. (One shot, angst)

Set My Mind To Wandering by Tabithian

Tim goes on a vacation. (One shot series, angst)

A Little Bit of Sunshine, A Little Bit of Rain by ohwhatevrewhatevr

For once, Tim is happy with his life. (One shot, fluff?)

American Ninja Worrier by DangerBeckett

Tim hires a ninja intern. Jason becomes concerned. (One shot, funny)

The Wrong Boy is Breathing by heartslogos

Tim visits Jason's grave all the time. (One shot, angst)

Jason Todd: The Not-So-Outlaw by GoAwayOlivia

Jason Todd isn't what Batman made him, he isn't what the Joker made him, he isn't what the League of Assassins made him, and he isn't what the Lazarus Pit made him. He's his own person and he's taking himself back, one home renovation at a time. Also he might just make friends with the people who are supposed to be his brothers while he's at it. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

The Art of Conversation by glassgoblin

Robin needs to talk to a friend, but everyone is a little busy. (One shot, angst)

Road Rage Robin by heartslogos

"I’d be doing humanity a favor.” Tim grinds out, “And I would get away with it. I could totally get away with it. I’ve done worse.“ (One shot, funny)

How to be a male Batgirl by Blackjay27

There are many ways to help Batman and Robin, but no matter which universe he's in, Tim's method will always end with him in a costume on Gotham's rooftops. (Multi, canon divergence)

I Saw Grayson Kissing Santa Claus by pupeez4eva

It’s Christmas time, and Damian is on a mission - to stop this ‘Santa Claus’ fellow from molesting his older brother. (Multi, funny) (this fic is so funny it made me cackle out loud)

Favourite Strangers by SpiritsFlame

It's been six months since Bruce's actions led to the death of Superman. (One shot, crossover with the movies?)

show me yesterday, for i can't find today by indent

Then: The year is 2013. Jason Todd is alive, fourteen years old, and about to follow Sheila Haywood, his birth mother, into the hands of the Joker. All he wants is to save her life.

Now: The year is 2018. Jason Todd was dead. But now he's a nineteen year old vigilante about to take down the latest C-Lister rogue. Unfortunately for him, its a rogue that specialises in time-travel technology. And what starts as an easy takedown...ends as a time travelling phenomenon.

The two Jasons swap places. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

Retrograde Motion by Lysical

All Jason wanted was a case that was simple, clean, and far away from the latest mess in Gotham. Magic wasn't the Outlaws' area of expertise, but they soon found themselves investigating a dark wizard with a penchant for organ harvesting.

When an accident on the case leaves Jason as a clueless seven year old with a memory that's spotty at best, what else can his team do but go to his family for help? (Multi, hurt/comfort?)

anglerfish by envysparkler

Robin was having a horrible night even before the Red Hood showed up. (One shot, angst)

Tso'ape Mumbichi by keeptogethernow

Tim is Talon. (Multi, AU)

Kodokuno Shoujo (A Lonely Girl) by C_R_Scott

A tale of two Robins wrapped up in an Asian-style horror story. Tim Drake goes to Japan for business, both for Wayne Enterprises and Batman Incorporated. However, when he returns to Gotham City, it's Damian Wayne who discovers he brought along more from his trip overseas than just his luggage and mission report. (Multi, horror)

at me, too, someone is looking by bacondoughnut

Dick Grayson knows he's got problems when the Red Hood's busted leg somehow becomes his concern. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

Help by Loxare

Jason never went to Gotham after he emerged from the Lazarus Pit. Instead, he went to Bludhaven to begin his reign of terror. (Or Jason adopts all the children of Bludhaven.) (Multi, fluff)

Lean on me by Musingsofthesky

Tim just wants to hang out with Bruce. Too bad his cold has other plans. (One shot, sickfic)

The Ol' Switcheroo by AutumnHobbit

Damian takes a bullet for Tim. (One shot, angst)

Meant to be by protagonistically

Tim takes a bullet for Bruce. (One shot, angst)

Juneberries by MichaBerry

When Tim is taken, Damian has to come to terms with his own insecurities, and how he really feels towards his older 'brother'. When he does, it might be too late. (Multi, angst)

though the sun continues to stand by metropolisjournal (TKodami)

Tim in the movie universe. (Multi, angst)

The Time We've Got by DawnsEternalLight

While on an emergency Redbull run, Tim tries to talk to his adopted father. (One shot, fluff)

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three

TW: forced proximity, restraints, unequal power dynamics, sexual harassment

Officer Ludlow makes his way into your examination room not once but three times in the following two weeks. Once for torn stitches again. Once for broken glass embedded in his arm. (He seemed pissed about this, so you actually believe that a perp broke a window he was on the other side of, and he didn’t do it on purpose), and the third time for deep bruising and cracked ribs after taking a 9mm bullet to his flak vest. 

The thought that he might have done the latter on purpose terrifies you. They’re a great precaution but bullet proof vests do not prevent all the damage from a bullet. You can still get seriously hurt. So naturally, as you’re wrapping his ribs, you’re more than a little pissed off. 

“This had better have been an accident,” you grumble, forced in close quarters while you have to reach around his ridiculously broad chest with the bandage. You can’t help but notice at this point of his shift that the brain-addling addition of his own sweat and musk added to that edible fucking cologne makes for a near weapon of mass destruction on his skin. It should be illegal, for what it does to your insides. 

“What, you worried about me, sweetheart?”

“As a healthcare professional? Yes, this worries me. It could have been a lot worse.”

“If only I had incentive to be more careful…” he muses with a smirk, his stupidly handsome face just inches from yours. 

“Are all cops this fucking creepy?” You purposefully brush his side a little too hard and reign triumphant when he grunts in pain.

Kinda like shooting a bear with a handgun - it just makes him mad. 

He catches your hands again, only this time he uses the bandaging already wrapped around his torso to bind your wrists. He’s too quick for you to pull away, tethering you up with those beautiful hands that seem far too bulky to be this dexterous, tugging you forward so you’re more than a little cramped. You don’t think you can get any closer until he spreads his thighs and you fall right into the trap. 

You have to crane your neck to avoid being cheek to chest with him, feeling so fucking tiny and useless and enveloped. It pisses you off. It makes you burn with involuntary, awful want. 

“My little nurse speechless?” 

You try to glare at him, but it resembles more of a pout. 

“God,” his voice drops lower if that’s even possible. “You’re so fucking cute.” 

You want to jump off the roof for the thick, high choke of your tone. “You didn’t even ask me if I have a boyfriend.”

“Cuz I don’t fucking care if you do or not.” 

“Well I do,” you lie. “And he’s gonna kick your ass.” 

He snorts. “And I’m gonna let him so his girlfriend has to patch me up.”

“Fuck you.” You are seething with rage at this point, powerless, helpless, fucked in the head for somehow liking it. 

“Mm. What would you prefer? Fingers? Tongue? Cock?” He makes you gasp with a sharp tug at your makeshift bondage and that lewd word in his handsome mouth. “Yeah, that one?” 

“You’re going to get me fired.” You don’t know why you keep trying to appeal to his rationality and humanity, when both seem to not even be in his vocabulary. 

“That’ll free up your schedule so you can spend more time tied to my bed.” 

You’re terrified he can somehow feel the violent clench of your lower body. 

Maybe god does exist, but he has a fucked sense of humor. Your pager buzzes loudly from your scrub pocket as the automatic “CODE BLUE CODE BLUE CODE BLUE” goes off over the loudspeaker. 

“I have to go.”

“Yeah, yeah.” To his credit, and, let’s be honest, you’re super reluctant to give him credit right now, Tom loosens up on your wrists and lets you go attend to the patient currently in cardiac arrest.