#just kidding they should take the time they need without over-tiring themselves

[mushroomsfrogsetc]

Since it was announced, I always had a feeling that "The Full Moon" would drop on the day of the may full moon, the 23rd of may, but it's the 18th and from there's been no major updates, so, when is it dropping??

[eccentricgrace]

We Got Peter! (I Wish He Were My Kid) || IronDad

summary: five times the avengers meet peter parker, and the one time they realize who’s training him

tags: fluff, domestic, pov avengers, tony stark is peter parker's parental figure, peter can wield mjolnir, tired parent clint barton, hulk loves jokes <3

wc: 6,187

cross-posted on ao3 under the same name!

1. clint barton

Clint Barton is the first one to meet him.

His hands were blistered beyond belief from a foolhardy training session with the new girl, and with broken blisters brought blood. He just needed to get some bandaids, and one would think that an item as such would be easy to find in a compound designed top to bottom to cater to a superhero's every whim, but no.

He's in the only place someone can apparently find bandaids, when suddenly this curly brown-haired kid stumbled in looking the age of his eldest son. The kid wore pyjamas, a faded NASA tee and flannel pants, and he was walking while still hooked up to an IV, of which he held the stand beside him.

He froze when Clint was very obviously staring him down, and had the audacity to look caught.

Clint's getting real tired of picking up random kiddos that get themselves into trouble, so he cocked his head at the teen. "Who are you?"

"Peter," Peter answered with wide eyes. He had a healing shiner on his cheek, bruised a light yellow.

"What are you in here for, Peter?"

Peter opened his mouth, and then closed it. He awkwardly lifted the hem of his shirt up to reveal his entire torso heavily bandaged. Then he grimaced and dropped his shirt back down. "I wanted to go to the bathroom. Didn't want to call anyone for help."

Clint pulled a face. He looked around the medical wing for anyone else in sight, but the place was dim. He looked back at Peter. "Is someone supposed to be watching you?"

Peter shook his head. "I'm supposed to just rest. Everyone else is asleep."

Clint grunted. He looked back down at his hands and quickly peeled the bandaids out of their packaging, wrapping them expertly around his fingertips. "Well, get back in your bed, then."

Peter complied easily, settling back into a rumpled bed just across from the cabinets of medical supplies. He pulled the comforters back up, and Clint watched as his nose twitched and his teeth clenched from the movement.

Clint internally sighed. He closed the cabinet. "So, what's a kid doing with an injury like that? You someone's responsibility around here? Is it Steve?"

Peter shook his head tiredly and tilted his head back on the pillow. "No, not Steve. And the injury isn't... that bad, it's just— It stings, a little."

Clint walked over to the IV and narrowed his eyes at it. "This is strong stuff. Looks like it's running a little low, though."

"Yeah," Peter frowned. "It was dripping really fast, and it's almost been twenty four hours. The doctor lady, um, Dr. Cho said it should be switched out then."

"And where is she?"

"Got called away on a mission," Peter explained. "Something went wrong with some agents in Helsinki, they needed emergency medical attention."

Clint resigned. Guess he was taking care of this one, too. He walked over to the medical supplies and took a new bag of IV fluid before returning to Peter. "I'm gonna switch it out for you, hopefully that'll fix it up, okay?"

Peter nodded.

"So," Clint tore the opening. "How'd you get the stab wound?"

"How did you—"

Clint leveled him with a look. "You think I made it this far without recognizing a stab wound, kid?"

Peter furrowed his eyebrows. "Wrong place, wrong time."

Clint didn't believe that for a second. He narrowed his eyes at Peter and then went back to the IV, closing the clamp below the drip chamber. "And who's supposed to be watching you? The one who's asleep?"

"Mr. Stark," Peter answered quietly. "But he was worried sick ever since I got here, and I finally got him to leave and go to sleep, so I couldn't just call him back down here."

Clint studied Peter carefully. He stuck the IV spike into the port and then hung the bag back onto the stand. "Yeah, that checks out. Tony never can take care of himself."

Peter hummed noncommittally. "Thanks for drugging me."

Clint snorted. "Yeah, no problem."

He sat down beside the teen's bed. Peter tilted his head at him questioningly.

"I'll stick around til those meds kick in," Clint shrugged off. He hesitated. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

Clint smiled knowingly and nodded. "My son— The oldest one, he's fifteen. I thought you two looked around the same age."

"What's his name?" Peter asked politely, looking quietly grateful for the company. "Your son."

"Cooper," Clint answered gruffly. "Lila's my daughter, she's the middle kid. Youngest is Nathaniel, Nathan for short."

He nodded firmly. "They're good kids. They look out for each other, I'm grateful for them."

Peter smiled softly. "Tell me about them. If you want."

Clint scratched at his chin and leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up. "Why don't you tell me about yourself first? You're kind of the anomaly in this scenario, kid."

"Heh," Peter grinned. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Uh... What do you want to know?"

Clint had kids. He knew the best things to talk about with them, because they were his.

Nathan was the easiest, he was still a little itty bitty thing that barely reached his waist in height, and his favourite topics were the talking trains on his television shows and bargaining for more bologna on his sandwich at lunch.

Lila was second easiest, because she loved archery—she's gonna grow up to be a real class act like him, it's in the genes— so he'd bring her to the range and they'd talk about techniques.

Cooper was trickier, getting into that independent mindset and all, and it was hard to get a sentence or two out of him if he wanted to figure something out by himself. Clint always got him to spill though, props of working as a spy with background designed to persuade information.

But again: those were his kids. Clint Barton wasn't exactly the easiest guy to talk to, either. He decided to settle for a middle ground if he wanted conversation.

"What's your favourite subject in school?"

"Chemistry." Peter shrugged. "It's really easy, though."

"Well, there are AP classes for chemistry, aren't there?" Clint tilted his head. "You ever tried out for those? Heard they're great for colleges. Where you trying to go, New York University? Yale? What are the other big ones..."

"Uh, MIT." Peter nodded his head. "I'm trying to get into MIT. And I'm already taking the AP classes."

Clint blinked. "Oh. Well, alright then. You're set."

Peter smiled. "Guess so."

"So..." Clint drummed his thumb tiredly against his knee. "Tony, huh? Didn't know he had a... you."

"I'm interning," Peter rattled off quickly. A practiced excuse. He maintained direct eye contact, his chin jutted out with pride from his own lie. It did not go unnoticed to Clint.

"Oh, interning for Stark, eh?" Clint said. "I didn't know he had an internship program. Even more shocked a kid would sign up for said program. Sounds really boring."

"It can be sometimes," Peter shrugged. He glanced down at his own wound and broke into a sheepish grin. "You wouldn't want it to get too exciting though, otherwise you end up here. You know what I mean?"

"Tony's got a problem with employee health insurance?" Clint replied dryly, just trying to draw more information out of this teenager.

He still couldn't crack whether or not the kid was interning as an Avenger or if he was interning for Stark Industries and just got caught up in something he shouldn't have been around. ('Wrong place, wrong time' is a clever excuse, but not telling enough.)

"Oh, no!" Peter furrowed his eyebrows and backtracked. "No. That's not what I meant. I meant more like, exciting like when Avengers stuff is happening and like, sometimes that makes me a target for bad guys— working here, I mean. Not like, as an actually Avenger. Definitely not that, ha. I'm just a kid."

He sniffed in finality as he ended his sentence.

Clint studied him nonchalantly. "Sure."

"I feel really chatty all of the sudden."

"It's the drugs."

"That actually makes a lot of sense."

"Yeah, you get chatty, and then you totally conk out."

"Oh."

Clint tilted his head, studying the kid with narrowed eyes. He was all fidgety, restless as he looked down at his dripping IV and then the folds of his bedsheets and then everywhere else. Clint cleared his throat. "I really don't think Tony'd mind being woke up, you know. If it's his responsibility to babysit."

He knew if his kids were in hospice, you wouldn't be able to pull him out of the room, and he wouldn't give a damn how tired he was. That's just parenting.

"It's not babysitting," Peter argued, his nose scrunching up. "I'm entirely capable, like, practically an adult. Besides, Mr. Stark hardly sleeps, so like, waking him up isn't exactly on my weekend itinerary."

Clint grunted. "Alright, well, try not to keep yapping. Try and sleep, will you?"

"Yessir," Peter chirped.

Clint leaned his head back and closed his eyes, listening to the hum of lights and the aircon. Silence for a few seconds, and then—

"...Are you just gonna sit there? You can— You can go, if you want. I can get to sleep on my own, dude."

Clint exhaled stiffly through his nose. Unfortunately, his conscience won't allow him to leave til he knew this teenager was sound asleep. He couldn't just tell him that, though.

"I'm making sure you actually sleep and don't crawl your scrawny dumbass out of bed," Clint said simply, keeping his eyes closed.

"Can't wait to tell Ned that Hawkeye kept me hostage in the med bay," Peter joked, his eyes starting to droop and his tone beginning to lull. (Bingo. One step closer to knock-out town.)

"Yeah, yeah," Clint crossed his arms and went back to being quiet.

A few minutes later, he tilted his head up to peek— Peter was totally out cold, his mouth wide open while drool ran down his chin. Clint snorted softly and stood up to leave.

He could have sworn on the way there he heard Tony down another corridor, bickering with F.R.I.D.A.Y. about getting out of bed to check on "the kid."

Clint's mouth pulled up at the corner and he disappeared into the elevator.

2. thor

Thor was wandering from the kitchen when he saw the smaller Midgardian standing on the lawn outside, his arm stretched out with a strange device on his wrist.

He lazily swerved his axe back and forth and watched the child with interest, and finally decided to go out and investigate himself.

He swallowed the mouthful he had of bread. "I've never seen you before."

The child in question practically jumped out of his skin. He whipped around, his eyes wide, his jaw dropped— the device on his wrist dropped and shot a strand of string out uselessly to the field.

Thor raised an eyebrow.

"Oh," the child gasped. "Oh my god. Oh my god. Holy— It's— You're just— You're on Earth!"

"Yes, I'm visiting," Thor smiled wryly. "Did they begin to hire new Avengers while I was gone? Little ones, specifically?"

"Sorta," he blurted, looking upwards with awe. Then he quickly shook his head. "Not because you were gone! Just— I'm in training. No, I'm not. I'm not an Avenger. I'm just— I make the— Wow, you have — Really big muscles—"

Thor nodded sagely. "What's your name again?"

"Peter," the human said quickly, face going red. "Peter Parker."

Peter's eyes drift down to the axe hanging limp from Thor's hands, and then they widened all over again. He smiled shyly. "Can— Can I try it?"

Thor chuckled with amusement, holding the axe out. He flexed it out a few times. "Ah, this beauty. You can sure try, but it requires a very powerful heart, and you are ... very small. Like a splinter of the Yggdrasill. Itty-bitty."

He shoved the axe down in the soil with ease and continued talking as Peter put his hands firmly around the handle. "You see, it was forged by the power of a star—"

Peter used all his strength to yank the axe off, but not even a portion of it was needed. The thing flew upwards, flinging grass and bits of dirt everywhere. It pulled itself over Peter's shoulder from the force of his strength and he fell backwards into the lawn.

Thor stopped, words simply evaporating from his mouth.

"Oh my god," Peter repeated again. He slowly sat up, pulling the axe back over he shoulder with a lot more ease and simply holding it out in front of him with his... puny, twig arms.

Thor closed his mouth. Opened it again. Closed it again. This child— no. This man was now worth of his respect. He smiled nervously, shifting around on his feet.

"Uh. Oh," Thor stumbled. He clicked his tongue. "Um... Huh."

"This is so cool," Peter huffed, grin breaking out on his face. He turned the axe over in his hands. Then he held it back out to Thor. "That means I'm worthy, right?"

Thor made a cringing noise— a so-so motion with his hand. He scratched the back of his neck. "What's your father's name, Peter Parker?"

Peter made a face of discomfort.

"Your guardian," Thor corrected easily.

"May Parker?"

"Son of May Parker, I must admit, I underestimated you," Thor sighed. "...At least Stark can't wield it."

Thor stood there for a moment, looking down at Stormbreaker with a thoughtful frown on his face. He rolled his eyes and looked back to Peter. "Do you know where Banner is?"

Peter shrugged, looking caught between bewilderment and shock.

Thor nodded simply. "Well. It was an experience to meet you, Peter Parker."

He left without a second thought, leaving nothing behind him except a teenager stuck in an existential crisis.

(As you do.)

3. natasha romanov

Natasha met Peter for the first time in the Gym, the second floor of the Avengers Compound, West Wing.

"You up for some combat training?" Tony had asked her, looking up lamely from his mug of steaming black coffee. He had bags under his eyes, dark circles heavily visible.

"Why?" Natasha mused. "You feeling rusty, Tony?"

"Har har. No, not for me, for some new blood. Avengers recruit. He spent the other night in the med bay, I'm not exactly anxious to have that happen again," Tony sighed. "He's got some basics down, and he's strong, but figured he could do with some spider-hero tips."

That was all she was told. (What she inferred was her own business.)

She sat on the mat of the gym, waiting patiently for the new recruit to come in. She heard the gently swishing of the glass doors, and footsteps that stalled.

Natasha turned to meet him. She's greeted with the sight of a teenager, complete with a backpack, a shy smile, and a nervous wave. He wore sweats, a t-shirt, and faded out shoes that looked a step away from a shoebox coffin.

"Black Widow?" He asked. He shuffled on his feet. "Or should— Do I say Natasha? Ms— Ms. Romanoff?"

Needless to say, she was wary. She had her own morals on whether children should be able to fight, but she tried to keep in mind the circumstances. Whoever this kid was, he'd already spent time receiving medical attention from the other end of a fight, and if Tony was looking that exhausted over him then he must be one stubborn mule.

He'd benefit more from training than a scold to stay away from danger. Hero type, just like Steve. She'll give it a shot.

"Natasha's fine," she said simply. She stood up and crossed her arms. "Are you gonna tell me your name?"

"Peter Parker," he said, setting his backpack to the side. He kicked his shoes off and stepped onto the mat, holding his hand out for Natasha to shake.

Rookie mistake.

Natasha shook his hand, smiling pleasantly. She gave the handshake a second and a half before attempting her first move.

It was supposed to go like this: Natasha yanks him forward, shoves him to the ground, and pins him with one of his arms held backward. Easy. Something she was taught when she was six.

Instead, in the millisecond before she was about to move, Peter yanked his hand back. She saw a fleeting blur of Peter jumping over her.

She swung around, raising an eyebrow and her mouth opened in surprise. She pursed her lips, impressed. "Alright, then. You're full of surprises, aren't you, Peter?"

"I didn't realize we started," Peter said, exhaling through his mouth. He squared his hips and held up his fists with a focused dip in his brow.

"Gimme your best shot," Natasha grinned.

Natasha kept a close eye on him, watching as he stepped side to side, not making a move. Interesting.

She took a step forward, he took a step back.

She took a step backward, he—

He again jumped over her, dipped down, and swung his foot under Nat's legs. She fell on her back, looking up at the white vaulted ceiling.

"Oh, crap," Peter said quickly. He lowered his fists. "Are you okay? That was a little ha—"

She rolled to the side, grabbing Peter's knee and swinging upwards so their positions were switched. She caught her breath, now standing on both feet, and watched with curiosity as the kid started doing something... odd.

He started talking, seriously chattering up a storm, scrambling himself up in an unpracticed manner and matching her move for move. He wasn't refined in the slightest, and he pulled his punches hard. Natasha had no idea how much strength he wasn't even using.

His fighting was all slapstick, clumsy— he fought purely through instinct and with what Tony had properly summarized to her as "the basics." Simple punches. Kicks. He also seemed to rely heavily on his agility and flexibility, which Nat could respect.

He grunted after being shoved into the ground and tilted his head to the floor tiredly, his chest heaving with breath. "Oh man. I gotta say, I'm real glad I wasn't fighting against you back in Germany."

Natasha froze. She made a face and narrowed her eyes. "You're Spider-Man, aren't you?"

Peter furrowed his brows up at her and wrinkled his nose. "Um, yeah? I thought Mr. Stark told you that."

She pulled back fully, clearly signaling the training was over. She caught her breath again and analyzed his expression, the details in his face— youthful, stubborn confusion. She could see closer now some things she hadn't thought about before.

This teenager had been fighting toe-to-toe with Captain America that day, a little over two years ago.

"Tony wanted me to train you because you're going up against people you match your strength," she said bluntly, understanding now from all angles. "Because you don't know how to fight."

She thought back to the dark circles under Tony's eyes. The exasperation twinged with desperation in his voice when he asked.

Peter nodded slightly, looking sheepish. He was just a kid. He didn't ask for these powers, and yet, he was chomping at the bit to learn, to help.

Natasha held her hand out to help him up. "Alright, kid."

He looked down at her hand warily. "You're not gonna try to judo throw me again, are you?"

She smirked. "Not this time. I'm gonna teach you the basics on how to use that strength of yours. When I'm done with you, you'll be able to knock a guy unconscious with your pinky finger."

He huffed with amusement and took her hand, allowing himself to be helped up. "Awesome."

So that's how Natasha got another nephew.

4. bruce banner

It's four in the morning on a Saturday when Bruce Banner met him.

He had just woken up from a nightmare and felt... green around the gills. Deep breaths were calming, but not enough in the darkness of his bedroom, sweat dripping down his forehead as he carded his hands messily back and forth through his hair. After about five minutes where the underside of his skin still burned and pulled where it wanted to transform, he finally swung himself off the bed.

He took a cold shower, talking himself down the entire time the freezing droplets pelted his back.

"This bathroom is too small for you, Big Guy," Bruce seethed his teeth, vigorously rubbing shampoo into his scalp. "I'm not hulking out. We're not doing this tonight."

His heart lunged uncomfortably and Bruce scrubbed soap on the green-turning skin on his wrists. "Stop that, I'm not kidding around with you. Just forget the nightmare and go to bed."

His stomach turned, his skin stretching out as Hulk morphed the half of his face with an angry desperation. Hulk's voice came out of his throat, gruff and monstrous. "NO."

"This isn't a discussion," Bruce hissed back. He yanked the shower off, the handle breaking in his hands. He froze, inhaled deeply, and very calmly set the handle down. His eyes twitched.

"We're going to go get a nice, calming, cup of green tea," Bruce replied. "Then, we're going back to bed."

His stomach turned again. "JASMINE."

"Okay, fine," Bruce threw his hands up and stepped out of the shower, wiping the water off with his towel. "Jasmine. Fine. Whatever makes you happy."

Five minutes later, and he's stepping out of the elevator in a new set of pajamas, his hair wet and dripping down the back of his neck. He walked into the kitchen and clicked the electric kettle on. He picked up a mug from the cabinet, put the tea bag in, and waited with a tight frown on his face.

His eyes caught a light from the other room, coming from the ceiling. He looked up, and then subsequently froze.

A gangly teenager, sitting quietly on the living room ceiling, entirely razor-focused on a laptop that he held tightly on his lap.

Bruce blinked.

He blinked again.

The kid didn't disappear.

Bruce isn't sure what to do. The teenager didn't even seem to notice the predicament he was in, a stranger in a high-security compound who was also, you know, breaking the laws of gravity. Surely he had to belong to somebody. Someone had to have been mentoring him, maybe Steve or Nat.

(He hoped for his sake that it was not Natasha's mentee, because then he'd probably get his ass kicked for staring.)

Bruce scratched his head and turned the kettle off before it could scream, then poured the steaming water into his mug. He sat down and watched the kid curiously as he sipped his tea.

There was a lot to process. Luckily, he's a scientist, so he's had some practice at processing.

Bruce guessed that the teenager had conscious control over what he stuck to, begging by how tightly he gripped the laptop in his hands and how he fidgeted once, resettling himself where he sat, and still didn't fall.

What Bruce thought was even more interesting was how the teenager's face was of normal colour. Not a hint of purple, not even red. He wasn't breathing in a laboured way, either. Bruce had been watching him for two minutes now and he looked entirely normal, when any normal person would start showing signs of blood pooling. With this kind of biological capability, Bruce's best guess is that this ability is tied directly to his genes.

The kid narrowed his eyes. "X squared minus a hundred... divided by... But if I use the limit theorem then— Oh, my bad. I get it."

The teenager huffed with slight amusement and then went back into a silent concentration, his eyebrows furrowing as he read along the screen.

Differential calculus. Either a college student or an advanced high schooler.

Ten minutes passed, and Bruce had finished his scalding hot tea with little issue, much to Hulk's dismay. He kept his eyes on the teenager, waiting to gain more interesting details about the abilities he had.

Then his stomach turned again. Bruce immediately glared.

"Don't you do it," Bruce whispered.

His blood burned and his heart pounded angrily in his chest.

Hulk growled under his breath.

"Stop it," Bruce grumbled back. "Cut it out."

His fists clenched with a crack of his knuckles. "I'm DONE with watching," Hulk said defiantly.

"I don't give a shit! Hulk—"

"NO," Hulk roared, and his whole arm expanded and burned radioactive green. He reached out and shattered the mug, droplets of tea splattering across the kitchen. "DUMB SCIENCE STUFF."

And the illusion of being hidden disappeared in a cloud of smoke. Bruce quickly looked back at the ceiling and found the teenager to be gone, as if he had never even been there.

Bruce glared at the empty space. "I hate when you do this! You scare away perfectly nice people, and you're never compliant with what I want to do—"

His chest expanded with anger. Hulk's eyes burned with rage, and he pounded a fist down on the counter. "YOU ARE DUMB. NOT COMPLIANT. BANNER STINKS, HULK STRONG."

He could feel himself slipping away, and his skin shifted mossy green. Hulk roared again and swung his arm powerfully across the kitchen counter, the wood splintering in chunks while cabinet doors flung across the room.

Hulk turned to throw a punch at the counters behind him but his whole arm was halted by an arm unmistakably by... something. Hulk grunted and looked over his bulky fist, and made eye contact with the scrawny teenager from before.

"Oh shit," the kid breathed. "Uh... Hey, Mr. Hulk."

Hulk narrowed his eyes and curled a lip to show his barred teeth. "MOVE. HULK, SMASH KITCHEN."

"How about I tell you a joke instead?" The teenager said quickly. "You like jokes? I know a lot of jokes!"

"JOKE?"

"Oh, yeah," the teen nodded. "I bet I can make you laugh. It makes all the superheroes laugh, and you're— You're a superhero."

"HULK, SUPERHERO?"

"Yeah!" The kid smiled and slowly let Hulk's hand go. "Of course, dude. You're an Avenger."

Hulk stared.

"So do you want to hear the joke?"

Hulk jerked a tight nod.

"Okay, awesome!" The teenager sniffed. "What's a superhero's favourite drink?"

"WHAT?" Hulk asked.

"Fruit punch," he said with a grin.

Hulk paused, then he grinned and let out a boisterous laugh. "GOOD JOKE. HULK LIKE PUNCHING. HULK, SMASH."

And Hulk laughed, and laughed, and laughed— Until Bruce Banner leaned tiredly against the unbroken kitchen counter with the remains of his shirt draping around his neck. He looked up at the teenager with confusion. He furrowed his eyebrows. "You... You just stopped the Hulk."

The kid smiled back at him, eyebags under red eyes. "I think that if was like, even one percent more awake right now, I would be freaking out."

"Yeah," Bruce huffed. "Yeah, Hulk isn't pretty, I wouldn't blame you."

"No, I mean— Meeting you," he gestured up and down. "I was you for Halloween when I was a kid. I had like, a lab coat, and I carried around a printed out copy of your papers on Gamma Radiation."

Bruce blinked several times in shock and disbelief. He stumbled a bit. "You dressed up as Bruce Banner for Halloween? When— When you were a kid?"

"Yeah," the kid smiled nervously. He held out his hand. "Um, Peter. Peter Parker."

Bruce stared down at his hand and then finally shook it, his movements stunted and lazily from his surprise. "It's nice to meet you, Peter."

"Well, I really need to get to sleep," Peter said with a huffed laugh, looking up at the clock above the fridge. "But uh, it was nice meeting you too. I'll see you around, Dr. Banner."

Peter Parker was already well on a different floor before Bruce's mind finally caught up with him, and he realized he had forgotten to ask Peter about his powers.

(Not to worry, because it was only the next morning that Tony stalked into his lab with a proud grin on his face, and introduced him to Peter Parker for the second time, praising and prattling about how he had found a brainiac teenager smarter than the both of them combined.)

5. steve rogers

The first time Steve met him, it was completely and entirely by chance.

He was standing in the elevator, hands tucked loosely in the pockets of his hoodie. The floors flickered down from five, to four, three, two, and then they stopped. The doors opened and the kid bumbled inwards, backpack strung over his shoulder and earbuds in his ears— he's staring down at his phone.

"This bucket of bolts is never going to get us past that blockade," he murmured quietly, then smiled cockily. "This baby's got a few surprises left in her, sweetheart."

Steve's eyebrows furrowed in a curious amusement. Part of him wanted to speak up, tell the kid it wasn't safe to walk around without hearing or seeing your surroundings— if he had done that when he was Peter's age, he woulda found himself beat up in an alleyway behind the old theatre.

The other part of him didn't want to seem old and lame, so instead he jerked his chin up. "What are you watching?"

The teenager looked up quickly. His mouth opened in shock as he suddenly realized the company he was with— a look Steve was regularly given. He pulled an earbud out. "Uh, Star Wars."

"Oh," Steve nodded vaguely. "I've meant to watch that, at some point..."

"It's really good," the teen smiled earnestly. "I started watching this in the car on the way here, so I'll have to finish it after I see Mr. Stark, but—"

Steve raised an eyebrow with interest at the mention of Tony. He cleared his throat politely, shifting on his feet to look at him better. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you before. What's your name, kid?"

"My name's Peter," he replied awkwardly and fidgeted with the cracks in his phone's screen protector. "Do I call you, uh— Mr— Captain? Captain, uh... Rogers? Er—"

"Steve is fine," Steve smiled teasingly. "Nice to meet you, Peter. Are you an intern? You look young. Not that I can judge, I was working at eight, passing newspapers to neighbors for a penny."

"...Yeah, I'm an intern," Peter explained, chuckling slightly. He cleared his throat. "Still in highschool though. You know— It's really funny, actually, because I had to watch one of your videos for class yesterday."

Steve grimaced. "Oh no."

Peter's smile widened. "I think I have your whole like, script, memorized. Hearing your voice saying completely different things is throwing me off."

Steve felt his ears go hot. He was crawling in his own skin, hiding his face behind his hand and smiling tiredly. "Those are a long story—"

"So," Peter continued seriously over him, doing what Steve could only assume was his best 'Captain America' impression. "You got detention—"

"No," Steve laughed hard, hand on his chest. "Why do they still use those? God—"

After what seemed like an eternity, the elevator door finally dinged. Peter smiled at him. "Well, uh, it was nice talking with you. Especially while not like, fighting."

Steve took a breath, confused and recovering from the previous bout of laughter. "Hm?"

Peter simply walked out of the elevator and saluted him with a grin. "Bye, Brooklyn."

The elevator door closed. Steve is left alone with his jaw dropped.

Who said the youth weren't surprising?

+1: tony stark

Rhodey wandered into the second floor living room of the Compound with the distinctive clicking noise of the prosthetics. He rapped his knuckles on the wall. "Anybody know where Tony is?"

Natasha, lounged on the white loveseat against the window, looked up from her book. "Is he even here?"

"Well, yeah," Rhodey huffed. "Where else would he be? Has nobody seen him even dig up here for coffee, like the star-nosed caffeine mole he is?"

"Nope," Clint said, sitting against the floor and scrolling aimlessly through his phone with an expression of eternal boredom. "Is he with his kid?"

Steve froze from his spot at the stovetop, looking up with alarm. The wooden spoon in his hand hovered above the boiling water pot.

Bruce furrowed his eyebrows and put the chess piece he was holding back on the board. He looked over to Thor, who was so ferociously concentrated on winning that he didn't even seem to hear the conversation around him.

Bruce kicked him lightly in the shin. "Tony's got a kid?"

Thor widened his eyes, looked up and around like a startled animal. "I wasn't aware Stark had offspring?"

"He has an intern," Natasha corrected with amusement, giving Tony, and the confused company, the benefit of the doubt. "Not quite his."

"Oh, that's his kid," Rhodey sighed heavily. "He's a scrawny little punk. Definitely Stark blood. I'll go check the lab."

"Hold it," Clint looked up in sarcastic awe. "You mean to say someone other than Bruce was let into the precious lab?"

"It's just a safety precaution," Bruce explained in embarrassed stuttered mumbles. "There's a lot of dangerous stuff in there—"

"But he lets a kid—"

"Intern—"

The elevator chimed. The doors opened and the two fools in question meandered out into the hallway. As they walked down to the living room, all the Avengers could hear a familiar voice all of which had been acquainted to ramble off.

"I'm just saying, I would've had more time to fix the calculations myself but I got caught up on everything with this huge guy who was totally tearing up Times Square," Peter rounded the corner, smears of oil and general mechanic schmutz on his cheek. He trailed closely next to Tony, who was grinning down at a holographic tablet and moving around parts of a digital suit rendering.

Tony wandered into the kitchen. "Yeah, I heard your report. I also heard, via May, that you forgot to do your homework again though, huh? What's your excuse for that one, kiddie?"

Peter hopped up on the kitchen counter, taking the tablet from Tony's hand. He started doing his own work on the render as Tony stepped around Steve to get to the fridge.

"Apple juice?" Tony called out, swinging the fridge door open. "We're out of the, uh... the Capri suns, but I put more on the grocery list for next time."

"Apple juice is fine, thanks," Peter chirped. He tilted his head and zoomed in on the Iron Man chest plate. "Mr. Stark, what if we changed the layering of the arc reactor to fit the nano-particles, instead of reworking the whole thing?"

Tony hummed, tossed back a bottle of apple juice (which Peter caught without looking) and closed the fridge. He took a seat next to Peter, but actually on a barstool rather than on the counter, and looked over at the tablet.

"Show me," he said blankly.

Peter moved some things on the screen, wrote down some numbers and letters, and looked up at him. Tony scratched his goatee in thought, and then nodded. He ruffled Peter's hair. "Yeah. Looks good, kid. I'll get the prototypes 3D-printed for next time and we'll put it all together."

"Awesome," Peter grinned. He cracked open the apple juice and sipped at it. He looked up at the rest of the living room. "Oh, hey, guys."

The Avengers at this moment were all suddenly on the exact same page, albeit with varying reactions. Clint, who was smirking, an eyebrow raised, knowing and maybe even a little impressed. Bruce, who had now put together the pieces he had and was pleasantly surprised, beside Thor who was only surprised. Steve, the most shocked, and Nat, the least shocked.

Meanwhile, Tony, finally looking up only when Peter said hello, recognized the people in the room. He nodded in acknowledgment. "Ah. Avengers, this is Peter."

"We know," Clint said smugly. "Pretty sure we've all met him."

"Sorry?" Tony furrowed his eyebrows. He looked between Peter, and then the rest of the Avengers. "When did you meet each other? Other than Romanoff and Banner, I haven't told anyone else about the kid—"

"I met them," Peter spoke up. He put his finished bottle of apple juice on the counter and smiled. "I met Hawkeye in the medbay one night, Steve in the elevator, and Thor on the lawn— that was really cool, by the way."

Tony hesitated, and then shrugged. "Alright, then. Anyways, nobody can steal him. You guys can get your own Avenger intern prodigies, this one is mine. Looking at you, Rogers."

Peter covered his face with one hand and stifled a laugh. "Mr. Stark—"

Steve put his hands up defensively, giving a kind smile. "No worries, Tony."

(Everybody knew it would be impossible to separate the two, anyways. But anybody would be lucky to have Peter as a kid-intern-thing...

Just ask Tony Stark.)

[fefesoutsiderstuff]

Soc September 2024 - Autistic Cherry :D

Submitting for @socseptember

"What have we done?" Cherry asked no one in particular, staring at the fountain. It was at that exact location Bob Sheldon - her boyfriend - ex? - had been fatally stabbed. And she couldn't stop looking. Why wasn't there any police tape? Why did this happen? Why did Bob drink, why couldn't she handle the crowded drive-in like everyone else, what did having her hands squeezed do that made it all quieter, what did everyone else want from her?

"We were only having fun," Paul said miserably.

Cherry wasn't good at detecting lies, but she could say with absolute certainty that that was bullshit. "You were only having fun?" she asked incredulously.

"We were only having fun. Just hanging out. Just horsin' 'round. Doin' what we've always done."

Deep breath, deep breath. But instead, there was an indignant squeak. "Fun? A five-on-two fight is fun? Drowning a fourteen-year-old boy is fun? And what did you expect? Johnny got jumped a week ago, and guess who did it!"

"Bob went crazy when he saw you with that greaser kid," Paul... growled? It wasn't really growly, but if it had sounded like it hurt his throat, it would have been. "You held his hand at the concession stand."

Cherry backed away as her friends - they were still her friends, right? They couldn't stop being her friends without saying so, right? - approached her threateningly and the cacophony of reprimanding began.

Loud. Too loud. Too loud. Oh, fuck-

And then it hit her. Way too late as she was now hunched forward with her hands over her ears being yelled at to look at them and explain herself and all those things she couldn't do.

"Are you all... mad at me?"

Pause.

"Are you out of your mind?" Beverly yelled. "Yes, we're mad! How did it take you that long to figure it out?" she screamed as Cherry stared at the ground, stifling sobs. "Bob wasn't jealous! You can't hold someone else's hand! You of all people should know this with all your righteous indignation-"

"I can explain," Cherry whispered, not that anyone heard her. "I can explain. I can explain." The phrase lost meaning as she mumbled it to herself and, too tired and overwhelmed to maintain her facade, settled onto the ground, dropping Bob's letterman jacket behind herself.

And she rocked.

Back and forth, she shifted her weight, knees hugged against her chest.

It might have been freeing under different circumstances. But it wasn't. It was a terrifying feeling of helplessness and shame and fear.

Cherry was petrified.

Everyone was staring at her. But she was alone. And she always would be.

"Cherry, what the fuck is this?"

Oh, gosh, how could she ever explain this?

"Uh... what the fuck is what?" she asked. "Am I allowed to say fuck right now? Is that okay?"

"Why are you rocking back and forth like a crazy person?"

Cherry blinked. Then she cracked. Then she shattered. "I don't know!" she sobbed. "The world is too loud and everyone is doing fine but I'm not and I try, I really do, but sometimes, I just need a hand squeeze because drive-ins are too loud! And I don't like parties because they're loud and people-y and they mess up my routines and I always end up doing something wrong because what am I supposed to do? No one tells me these things! And now I broke up with my boyfriend and he got himself killed and everyone is screaming at me because I needed a squish! Is that too much to ask for? Is it too much to ask that after a whole thirty hours of pretending to be normal while having a panic attack, I get emotional support from the one person I felt safe enough to be myself around?"

She finally looked up and saw everyone staring at her. But she couldn't stop. "The entire time I've known any of you, I've been pretending. Because normal people are nothing like me. Normal people don't make nests around themselves in bed at night and sleep with their hands under their chins. And I only realized that after a sleepover with Marcia in third grade when she just flopped onto her side and went to sleep! Y'all don't stay up for half an hour writing stories in your head and scripting out responses for everything anyone could ever possibly say to you the following day! How?"

There was no response for a while.

Then Marcia dropped into the grass beside Cherry. "That's... why?"

"I think you're cool," Cherry whined between sobs. "And I wanted you to think I was cool. But I'm not. I'm a dork. I'm sorry you have to deal with this. You shouldn't have to. I'm just really tired so I can't pretend to be a functional human anymore. And I wore the bad socks today."

"The bad socks?" Beverly asked confusedly.

Marcia looked at Beverly and shook her head, whispering "Don't make her explain right now," before returning her attention to her distressed friend. "You wore the bad socks today?"

"I wore the bad socks today. I wanna crawl out of my own skin and become a cat. I don't like being a human. Humans are weird and complicated. Cats don't make themselves think they're having an allergic reaction without actually having an allergic reaction."

"No, they don't," Marcia said softly. "But cats also can't read."

"I wanna be a literate kitty cat."

"Okay, well, I'm sorry. I can't help you with that, but how about we take some deep breaths, okay? Breathe with me?" Marcia asked before taking a deep, exaggerated breath through her nose. "Good. Aaaand, out through the mouth."

A few moments went by. "I actually liked when Dallas brought up the cicada thing. Not like that, but I like information. He sounded really knowledgeable about bugs."

"He did?"

"Yeah."

Marcia nodded understandingly. "I bet you wanted to talk to him about sciencey things."

"I did. Thank goodness you told me to ignore him. Oh, wait, we're on the floor, what- this isn't correct. This isn't correct at all," Cherry rambled, struggling to her feet.

"You wanna get up? We can go home and you can talk to me about bugs?" Marcia asked, following suit and brushing off her dress.

"I don't know much about bugs, actually. But I do have an uncomfortable amount of knowledge surrounding the Middle Ages. Women weren't actually baby factories; virginity was the cool thing."

The rant continued for a while. Marcia listened patiently.

And for all the grief that weekend came with, Cherry felt a thousand times lighter than ever before.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Yap to me about this. Please yap to me about this. Comments. Questions. Concerns. Anything.

[onskepa]

Tstew ch 3

Helloooooooo everyone! Long awaited chapter! This, like the others, I had to re-write over and over. But! I have come to the conclusion that this will be the final chapter. Idk how long this will be but hopefully it shall satisfy everyone. Enjoy!

Ch1 , ch2 , Ch3

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

It has been a few weeks since tstew began using her avatar. Things were sooooo much better than before. She can climb better, faster, and farther lengths. Eat meats that tasted delicious on her na'vi tongue! Swim without the need to carry the oxygen filter, to smell things without the mask in the way. Truly the best thing tstew could have ever wanted.

And truly the best thing the boys every wanted too. Every smile, hiss, sound that tstew makes, the three boys just cant help themselves. If they already loved tstew in her human form well they are down for her na'vi form.

Spider, the amazing, adventure seeking sunny boy loves his dear friend tstew. Growing up together, the firsts human pandoran beings. Native in their planet yet foreign. Not being able to truly be with the people. While spider wants to be na'vi, he admires tstew for doing her thing. While she was given a avatar, he admires she doesn't use it to greedy advantage. Still not wishing to connect with the Omatikaya clan but still connect with the fauna around her. Strong, flirty, and loud, spider knows her better than anyone else. They grew up together. He finds that it is only fair he should have her affections.

Lo'ak, trouble seeking, trouble seeks him, and breaks the rules rather than follow. He sees himself in tstew, and he sees her in him. Always pranking, causing chaos where ever they go, not being sorry for who they are. Lo'ak could never get bored with tstew around. She is just that fun! Always making games, cracking a few jokes, or even just scare others for laughs. Every time lo'ak looks into tstew's emerald eyes, it is like a window to a new world. He could never get tired of tstew. She always has something to show, new change and experience. Something lo'ak wants to have in his life.

Neteyam being the oldest of his siblings, wise and calm for his age. But with tstew? he is a melting mess. Tstew is like the sun to his moon. Bringing warmth, life, and color. Her little remarks and quick snaps makes him want to laugh. Not in a bad way. Her witty humor is always so refreshing and welcoming. What he lacks, she provides. When he is with tstew, he can easily drop his "big brother" role and just be a kid like those his age. When he sees her, be it human or na'vi form, he gets those tingling feelings deep in his stomach. Those fluttery feelings when you see someone you like. That is what he gets every time he sees tstew. He loves her for who she is all that is all there is to it.

Kiri wasn't dumb, she knew the attempts her brothers are trying to do. Gift giving, cracking specific jokes only tstew will understand, make things tstew will like. Or even mention something about an animal she likes. Tuk was thankfully oblivious to those things. Best to stay that way.

Tstew on the other hand noticed the boys change of....perceiving things. "lo'ak, not that I am complaining buuuut....I think I have more than enough fruit" she tells him while pointing to 5 baskets full of her favorite fruit. Lo'ak was just ready to fill a sixth basket. "Perhaps its best you give at least 4 baskets to your family? you found some really ripe ones" she continues. Lo'ak puts down the fruits he was holding into the basket before turning to her. "But they don't like them very much. So that is why I am giving them to you" he replies. Tstew holds one in her hand and takes a bite, savoring its yummy taste.

"but it will seem like I am greedy. I can take one basket and share it with the others back at the post. If your family doesn't like them, give some to the people. We cant let these yummy fruits go to waste". That is another thing lo'ak loves about tstew. Her genuine care for others, better to give than to receive.

"yeah lo'ak! just a sad waste to see all those fruits-"

"spider you either take those stones back or I am throwing them at you" tstew says without even turning around. "yes ma'am" spider quickly replies and turns back.

Neteyam was observing the whole thing and took metal notes. Tstew doesn't like it when she is being over gifted, ok so something minimal can do.

"neteyam! that bow better be for yourself or for someone else because I am NOT hunting!" she shouts at him. Ok so the bow was not a good idea. Got it.

Tstew loves the animals too much to kill them. Yes she eats their meats but will do a small thank you for the deceased animal for their sacrifice. She may be tall and a bit athletic, she draws the line on pandora's precious fauna.

Trying to impress tstew sure is a challenge. She either wont accept it or when she does, wont think too much on it and go on about her day. The boys think she is that blind or turning her head away. Despite her flirting, no one knows if she was genuine or just playing around.

"boys will be boys" kiri says as she weaves a simple bracelet. Tstew sighs as she sits next to her. "you tell me, I don't know what made to act so.....gifting? so weird, if only they put the same effort in DOING THEIR ACTUAL SHIT AND NOT PROCRASINATE!".

Tstew looked to her surroundings and noticed tuk wasn't there with them. "hey kiri, where is tuk? I didn't see her leave?" she asks, kiri point to a direction to her left, "she said she got bored and went to play with her friends over there".

What no one knew.....was tuk making a collective BANK.

"two green stones and 5 arrows for neteyam confessing"

Tuk was having a large bet meeting with the other omatikaya children as they are betting on which boy will confess first.

"ok next!" tuk shouts.

Another child steps up, "10 arrows, 20 beads, and 5 feathers on spider!"

Tuk hopes neither confess so she can keep her hoard.

And that completes this tstew tribology! no more of this cause idk where else to go but! either way! I hope you all enjoyed it! until next time! see ya!

[wososage]

A Team Effort: USWNT x Reader

So this doesn’t completely line up with the request but this is definitely something... Anyways please send me some requests. I’m taking a break from school for medical stuff so I need some sort of distraction.

Request: ok this is perfect because I love baby reader and smut just makes me uncomfy so I’m not a fan of it. I’m going to go pretty vague so you got some creative freedom- I loved the one about the team being clingy but I want to flip it and reverse it some. Reader is the baby and the shortest and she is sick/hurt/something one day and is just tired around. Always clinging to someone and being carried, passed around so no one can hog the snuggles, etc

Warnings: none

Word count: 747

“Lyssa!” Y/N calls out. “Will you carry me to the bus?”

Alyssa obliges, because one, everyone loves Y/N snuggles, two, one day during Y/N first camp the team agreed that they will do anything to see a smile on Y/N face after a particular incident showed the not so good side of Y/N’s life, and three Y/N is Alyssa jr.

As soon as Alyssa and Y/N get on the bus, Y/N gets passed to one Kelley O’hara, who has a great impression of a toddler with her pout and grabby hands. Kelley, who is very excited to get to spend time with her little squirrel, immediately starts tickling Y/N, which eventually devolves into Y/N and Kelley trying to wrestling… on a moving bus.

It's Becky who steps in with a raised eyebrow telling Kelley and Y/N that if they continue acting the way they are, they will not like the consequences. After forcing the squirrels to separate, Becky takes Y/N to the front of the bus where Becky reads to Y/N, continuing the book they were reading the day before.

After training is nap time. Y/N is always willing to fight this, even though they never win and a post-practice nap always happens even if it means someone has to tie them down to a bed. Today, however, a promise of a surprise from Lindsey and Sonnett leads to Y/N only protesting slightly before getting in the middle of them for a snuggle pile.

After waking up, Y/N finds out the surprise is being allowed to go to the mall without ‘adult’ supervision. Which is fine. Totally fine. Until it isn’t. The kids are loud and have a lot of energy and add that to being in a mall with so many stores and so many people and so many noises coming from all directions, it doesn’t take long for Y/N to become overwhelmed. It’s Kristie who notices first. Wonderful, wonderful Kristie who prides herself on being the mom of the kid's group, takes Y/N to a bookstore where they can have a chance to center themselves before heading back to the hotel.

At dinner, Y/N ends up at a table with Pinoe, Alex, Charlie, Crystal, and Marcel. Apparently, Pinoe is Y/N’s pseudo-parent for the night and is in charge of Y/N getting the proper nutrients (everyone teases Y/N about needing to grow up big and strong since they are so small). This is a hard task, one that is often left to someone who won’t give in to any of Y/N’s pleading to not have to eat fruit, which is why it's often an older person on the team who ends up taking on this task. Tonight, after a second attempt of sneaking their fruit to Charlie, Pinoe manages to wrangle in Y/N with a withering glare and a threat of something Y/N won’t like if they reach strike three. Y/N tries to convince Pinoe that because they are dyed hair bros, Pinoe should let Y/N get away without eating the fruit. (it doesn’t work)

Y/N's reward for finishing their meal (with only a little fussing) is hanging out with Tobin and Christen, which is really Christen babysitting two over-excited children who want to paint, but they aren’t allowed to after an incident with paint ending up on surfaces in which the paint wasn’t meant to be.

While Becky is Y/N’s roommate, its long been decided that someone besides Y/N’s roommate is in charge of forcing Y/N to keep up any sense of personal hygiene to keep the general order of camp correct. That's why Rose has once found herself pleading with Y/N to get into the shower for the third night in a row this week. It ends with Rose holding Y/N through a panic attack after Y/N managed to get into the shower for a few minutes.

And the day ends with Becky, who reads to Y/N until they fall asleep. And wakes them up during particularly bad nightmares. And lays on top of Y/N to keep them from getting out of bed at an obscene hour of the morning because Y/N is incapable of sitting still when awake (and asleep but that is what the location tracker is for) but also needs to get more sleep.

[invisibleraven]

Haunted Holidays

December 21: Wrapping Paper <-AO3 link!

“I think that’s everything,” Carrie said as she looked over the sea of bags and boxes surrounding her.

“It had better be, I think we bought out half of LA,” Reggie groaned from where he had flung himself onto the couch.

“You know some of that is for you right?” Carrie replied.

“I’m aware,” Reggie said, looking up from the arms he had covering his face. “Which is why you should hide them while I’m too tired to peek.”

Carrie hummed but did grab a few bags and rushed off, making Reggie bite back a grin. Honestly he loved that she used the holiday season to spoil their loved ones. Stuff none of them would buy themselves, but they all secretly wanted. Carrie was aces at gifts, and Reggie was getting better since they started dating.

“Okay Peters,” Carrie declared as she reentered the den with a clap of her hands. “No napping, we have to get wrapping!”

Reggie groaned, sitting up and looking at her. “Okay, gimme a beat.”

Carrie scowled and waved a tube of wrapping paper at him. “Come on you.”

Reggie gave a mock salute and started taking items out of bags, handing them over to Carrie so she could find the right gift bag or bow to go with each gift. “I always figured you’d get a professional to do this kind of thing.”

She shook her head. “That’s more my dad’s thing. I like wrapping gifts, giving it that personal touch. Shows that you’re willing to spend the time on it outside the thought of the gift itself.”

“When I was a kid I wrapped all my gifts in the comics section of the newspaper-saved up the colour pages every Sunday to do it,” Reggie commented.

“MeeMaw didn’t have paper for you to use?” Carrie asked. She knew better to ask about his parents-they only gave him shame, complexes, and recrimination, never presents.

“I wanted to do it myself,” Reggie said with a shrug. “She loved my version of a personal touch.”

“I bet you made her great gifts,” Carrie said. She had never met MeeMaw, the woman had unfortunately passed before she got the chance. But she loved hearing Reggie’s stories about her.

“Oh yeah, the best pages of scribbles, popsicle stick picture frames, and clay handprints you ever did see,” Reggie said, then a look of melancholy passed over his face. “She kept it all though, had a box of it all stored in the attic.”

Carrie scooted over , cuddling into his side. “She loved you, and treasured everything you gave her. I know I would.”

Reggie snorted. “Doll you gave me an itemized list of gifts.”

She had done that hadn’t she? And she knew he had bought her every one without complaint. “I know,” she whispered. “I think I needed a reminder that it isn’t what you get, but the love and thought behind it.”

“So I can return the ludicrously pricey scarf?” Reggie jested.

“Not on your life,” Carrie said, sticking her tongue out at him. “But feel free to wrap it in some newspaper if you keep the packaging on it.”

Reggie grinned, tilting her head back for a kiss. “You know, I just might do that.”

Then on Christmas morning, Carrie had to laugh when every single one of her expensive presents were wrapped in homemade paper-covered in Reggie’s doodles and lyrics.

She kept every piece. Which turned out to be worth it, as the next year she used the paper he had made to wrap his gifts in. RReggie gave a delighted bark when he noticed, and made a show out of oh so carefully peeling the tape off so they could use it again.

By the third year, it was getting a bit worn, so Carrie said they would just have to make new paper, and spent a lovely afternoon doing so. “But we’re still keeping the old stuff right?” Reggie asked shyly.

“Oh sinta of course!” Carrie assured him. “We could make a cool art piece out of them if you want.”

She missed the way his face lit up at that, but Reggie thought that was for the best because he now had a plan to blow all other Christmas’ out of the water!

Oh Christmas morning, Carrie came down the stairs, and saw something hanging on the wall, covered by a sheet. Reggie was standing next to it, looking a little nervous, a little tired, but still his gorgeous sunshiney self. “Hey doll, Merry Christmas,” he said, greeting her with a kiss when she replied in kind.

“You figure out what to do with the paper after?” Carrie asked, taking a step back to survey the large set up.

“Yup, you wanna do the honours?’ Reggie asked.

Carrie nodded and ripped off the sheet, then gasped. There they were --all the pieces of wrapping paper. Covered in their doodles, notes, and little bits of their history. A photo of the two of them after a paintball game where she had dominated and Reggie was just happy to be there. Riding side by side on horseback, though Reggie was doing so with considerable more grace.

There were programs and ticket stubs, and a few candy wrappers, lyrics to half finished songs, even a section for Tisdale, Carrie’s Shar Pei that Reggie used to walk every day-it was how they met after all. And though she had crossed the rainbow bridge, the both of them would forever be grateful for her influence in them getting together.

Then right in the middle, was an origami heart, with the words Open Me printed on it. Carrie grinned at Reggie, wondering what silly pun awaited her-he did love his jokes her man.

Only when she opened the heart, there were only two words printed there. WOrds that made Carrie’s heart race and her face break into a smile. A smile that grew even wider when she saw Reggie kneeling before her with a ring made of folder paper.

“I swear I got you a real one,” he said, offering it up. “But I kinda had to doll.”

“No no, this is perfect,” Carrie said, slipping the ring onto her finger. “Yes by the way.”

Reggie whooped and spun them around, all while Carrie admired her ring. She knew it would probably end up framed somewhere so she could keep it forever-but right now it outmatched even the brightest of diamonds, and was worth more to her than every gift under the tree.

[eriquin]

The Trolley Problem, Part 53

Steve is not mad, he’s disappointed.

This is a lie. He's so mad. So very, very mad.

(master post)

The little shits were all missing, and Steve hadn’t gone home. His parents were probably freaking out, but not nearly as much as the Sinclairs and Wheelers and Jonathan’s mom. He was in the Wheelers’ living room for the first time since he’d come back, sitting on the couch with Nancy, Jonathan, and Robin

Everything had happened too fast. Tommy hadn’t been able to find Wayne. It looked like his  truck had been missing all night. He’d come right back to school to tell them that. Jonathan had gone over to the middle school and found out that none of the kids had shown up for class. Now, Carol and Tommy were out scouring the streets for the kids while the rest of them had come back to get Mike’s walkie. They’d tried to find Will’s first, but it was missing. In the meantime, the school had called all the parents, and now the four teenagers were trapped, trying to calm everyone down. 

“I should go back to the house,” Joyce said. Her hands twitched like she needed a smoke. “If they’re in the woods, they might go there. I should wait for them.” She looked over at Jonathan. “Are you sure that you checked Castle Byers? They really weren’t there?”

“Yes, Mom. I checked.” It had been the first place they looked when they realized that the kids had cut school entirely. It was empty, and Jonathan couldn’t tell if they’d been there or not. That was something they’d told everyone once they were gathered together and it started getting dark.

But there were lots of things they weren’t telling everyone, by silent agreement. For instance, Jonathan hadn’t been able to find the rifle they kept in the shed, or the ammo. But by far, the biggest one was that Steve was sure they’d cut school to go find El. They were probably still looking for her. He needed to go talk to Wayne and find out what had happened after he left, but there was no way to do that now.

“Maybe we can try the walkie again,” Robin said. “Will must have his, right?”

“Right,” Jonathan said. Nancy had Mike’s walkie and had been trying to get through to him all afternoon, with no luck. She clicked it on again and tried, while everyone went silent and listened for a response. There was none. 

“I’m going to call Claudia again,” Karen said. “Maybe she’s heard from them.”

“She would have called us, honey,” Ted said. He seemed pretty tense. The Ted Wheeler that Steve remembered was a lot more blasé about every weird thing that happened concerning his kids. Maybe this was what he was like when it first started, before he got tired of the way his two older kids seemed to run head-first into danger. 

For the most part, the parents were discussing among themselves what they should do to find the kids. They had tried calling the police, but the station was overwhelmed with calls from lots of panicked people right now. 

Hopper had held a press conference that afternoon, telling people that they had reason to believe that there was a dangerous animal in the woods and to keep their pets and children indoors. That had freaked out the whole town, and Steve was pretty sure it wouldn’t help. There were still volunteers searching the woods for the missing people, but now they were armed. Every amateur sharpshooter wanted to be the one to take down the killer bear or mountain lion or whatever it was that Hopper had convinced them was out there. 

The kids probably didn’t even know about it yet, and they were out in the woods doing whatever asinine thing they’d thought of. If they survived it all, Steve was going to kill them. 

He got to his feet, and Robin followed his lead without asking. “We should go drive around looking for them,” he said to Nancy and Jonathan. “Maybe they’re just out of range of the walkie, and if we get close enough, they’ll hear it.” 

“Maybe.” Jonathan got up, too. He glanced over at his mom, who was still wringing her hands about going back to her house, and dropped his voice down to a whisper. “I don’t want her going back to the house alone. What if that thing comes back?”

Nancy got up and started to pace. “We still haven’t figured out where Barb is, and now all the kids are missing?” She ducked into the tight circle of just the four of them. “What if it’s the lab? What if they found the kids with El and... And locked them up? Or worse?” 

Steve tensed up and looked over at the window. “Even better reason to be out looking for them,” he said. “I need to talk to Wayne. And maybe... I don’t know. Maybe we can bargain for them back with the photos. Threaten to go to the press with them or something.”

Robin nodded. “Yeah, we can’t all just sit here,” she said, raising her voice a little. “I agree, Steve. We should drive around and see if we can find those kids.” 

That got the attention of the parents. Joyce started trying to tell Jonathan not to do anything reckless, but Steve said that they’d all stick together. It didn’t work right away, because none of the parents knew him, but then Nancy started arguing for it, too. They figured out that the Sinclairs still had Lucas’ walkie, so they could leave one with the parents and check in.

While Nancy debated with her mother, Steve glanced into the den and saw Holly and Erica watching television together. Erica looked annoyed at being made to play babysitter. She also looked tiny. He froze when she caught him staring.

“What do you want, polo-boy?” she sniped.

Steve glanced down and tugged at the collar of his shirt. “Yeah, I’ve been called worse things,” he said. “You doing okay in here?”

Erica rolled her eyes. “I’m fine,” she said. “I’m not like my stupid brother, spending all day out in the woods.” 

Holly glanced her way, then back at the television. They were watching some cartoon that Steve didn’t recognize. Future-Erica had made him memorize a bunch of different My Little Pony characters, but this wasn’t that. Holly was blinking slowly at the TV, though, and looked like she was about ready to fall asleep sitting up. Erica just looked bored.

“They made you the babysitter, huh?” Steve asked. 

Erica shrugged. “Somebody’s got to do it.” She leaned on the arm of the couch so that she could peer down the hallway. “Are they still talking about what to do? Man, Lucas is so grounded after this.” 

“Yeah, pretty much,” Steve said. “He’s going to be super-grounded.” 

Robin peeked her head back in from the other room, where Steve could hear Nancy finally winning her argument. “Aren’t you also super-grounded?” she asked.

Steve shrugged. “I’ll deal with that later.”

“Yeah, okay. Well, I think we’re ready to go. You’re driving, right?” 

“Always,” Steve said, jangling his keys. He turned back to Erica and gave her a little wave. “Okay, then. See you later, Erica-America.”

The look she gave him made him feel like he was crazy for saying it, but Robin snorted and dragged him away. She got the front seat while Steve drove and neither Nancy or Jonathan complained. Jonathan had Mike’s walkie with him, and he’d convinced his mom to stay at the Wheeler’s house. It only came on once, when Charles Sinclair got Lucas’s walkie out of their house and made sure that it was working. 

Taglist: @neonfruitbowl

[indigothemuse]

Salt and Honey

Sapphic Summer Day One- Godly parent swap/First Kiss

Daughter of Poseidon! Piper (and son of Aphrodite! Percy, but that's not as relevant)

Piper wipes a hand across her brow. It’s hot, even if the humidity doesn’t affect her. Her shirt sticks to her skin, and she can tell she’ll need to wash her hair tonight. She may have lived in New York for almost 3 years, but she still misses California’s dry summer heat. 

“Done already, Seaweed Brain?” Annabeth calls from across the arena. 

“You wish, Wise Girl,” she yells back. Camp has been in session for only a week, but well. Being the only camper in your cabin has a few perks. Namely, being able to choose her own activities without worrying about annoying anyone. 

The rest of the Athena cabin is here too, sparring amongst themselves. Turning her head, she spots Malcolm guiding one of the younger kids through the motions. 

“Hey. Seriously. You good?” Annabeth settles her elbow on Piper’s shoulder, and she just barely stops herself from slamming her fist into the other’s stomach. 

“Yeah. Just got distracted.” 

“Liar.” It’s fond though, so Piper leans back into Annabeth. “Why don’t we grab some water? It’s not a good idea for a daughter of Poseidon to get dehydrated.”

“Whatever you say, Wise Girl.”

Annabeth rolls her eyes and tosses a water bottle to her. She catches the next one too, and opens it. The water pours down her body, and Piper exhales. The water gives her a burst of energy, almost like she’s downed a Monster or two. Annabeth snorts. 

Piper sticks her tongue out and lunges forward in the same motion, Riptide flickering out to slice at Annabeth. She parries, dagger glinting bronze in the sun. 

“Hm. Smart.”

“What? You think I can’t strategize?”

“Mm, it isn’t normally your style, is it?” Honey curls fall to the side, and Piper’s mouth dries. Annabeth uses her momentary distraction against her, and she ends up pinned to the ground. The dagger taps her throat. “Done.” She smells like vanilla and Piper can’t breathe. 

Annabeth moves away, and pulls her up. “Huh. For someone so good on the battlefield, you really suck at sparring.” Piper flushes. She’s not wrong. 

“Well. It’s different when you’re not just fighting for yourself.” 

She opens her mouth to respond, something soft in those gray eyes. The conch blasts, and Annabeth wilts. “Oh. Lost track of time. Come on, there’s always room at your table.” Piper trips over her feet in her haste to follow, cursing under her breath as she almost falls. 

“Can’t believe you’re just offering my table up.” 

“What? It’s not like Chiron cares.” 

Piper huffs. “It’s about the principle.”

“Ooh, now there’s a five dollar word,” she lilts, laughing. 

“Shut up, Wise Girl.” 

“Make me, Seaweed Brain.” 

They both freeze. Heat crawls up her neck and Annabeth goes red. “Right, so. Lunch?” 

“Yeah.” Annabeth nods quickly, decisively. They walk to the pavilion, and she practically falls into her usual seat at the Poseidon table. There’s already several plates, one for each of their friends. Annabeth snorts into her drink. “Should have figured they’d catch on eventually.”

She smiles and takes a bite of her sandwich. Camp food, literally, is magical. It tastes just like the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches her dad would make when she couldn’t sleep. 

It’s weird having the cabin rules not be strictly enforced—ever since the Giant War, there’s really not a point. 

The table isn’t quiet for long. Leo and Percy take their usual seats with a typical outburst of excitement, both of them gushing about what happened during arts and crafts. Jason sits next to her a little bit later, and smiles. He looks tired, dark circles only highlighted by his golden glasses. 

They’d dated for a little while—both of them joke about their bout of comphet. She’d broken up with him after the Second Giant War, realizing she was lesbian. And also in love with Annabeth. He’s come out to her as aroace shortly after, and they’d agreed to try and stay friends.

She was grateful that it wasn’t awkward between them. He might be her ex, but Jason was honestly one of her best friends. Maybe not as close as Annabeth, but still. 

“You okay? Didn’t see you at breakfast.”

Jason sighed. “Jupiter decided to send me an Iris Message at 5 am. And then lectured me about still being asleep.”

“At 5?”

Percy leaned over. “Take it from me, the gods aren’t always great with mortal time. Dad’s a little better about it, since they love the concept of beauty sleep, but still.” 

“Yeah, about that. Do they really not care how often Aphrodite contacts you? Mom said Zeus and Hera threw a fit when she wanted to try and help out.” Annabeth rested her chin on her palm, stormy eyes intense. 

Percy shrugs. Gods, his eyeliner is perfect. “Dad kind of does whatever they want? I think it’s just because they aren’t ‘interfering with humanity’ so it doesn’t count. I really don’t know though.” 

“Not any weirder than last year,” Leo says, eyes crinkling. Piper reaches across Jason to fistbump him, grinning. 

“Could anything be weirder than last year? Giants, cross-continental switches, memory loss, storm spirits, and I’m probably forgetting something.”

“Don’t tempt the Fates. Seriously. I don’t want anything to be weirder than last year.” Annabeth shivers. 

Piper glances around, but it’s Jason who pushes the conversation away. “Have any of you tried the new lava wall challenge?” 

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦ ✦✦✦ ✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

Annabeth meets with Piper after the campfire, slipping off to the beach. As older campers, they had a later curfew than the kids. Plus, it wasn’t like they couldn’t take care of themselves. 

Piper is sitting on the sand, facing the water. She sits next to her, stretching her legs. She’s pleasantly sore from the lava wall and helping with her cabin’s pegasus lessons. 

They lean into each other, and Piper’s head hits her shoulder. Annabeth slides an arm around her, and rests her cheek on Piper’s head. Even after everything, this is her best friend. 

Children of Athena and children of Poseidon are supposed to hate each other. To carry on their parents' rivalry, to prove that one god is better. Athena is controlled and precise. Poseidon is rash and destructive. 

They are not their parents. 

They turn almost at the same time, and their lips press together. Annabeth exhales softly. Her lips are chapped and she smells like salt water. 

Piper pulls back after a moment, sea green eyes wide. “This is…this is serious, right?”

“Yeah. I’m serious.”

They kiss again, and again. Piper ends up in her lap, hands holding her face in place. She’s ethereal in the moonlight, a sea breeze gently moving her hair. Annabeth kisses her again, and smiles.

@sapphic-summer-riordanverse-2023

[sunsetsandrivers]

Can someone PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE come and save me from these really really creepy neighbours who constantly make everything I'm doing with my life about themselves - they're so lazy and idle in their own lives and literally don't do ANYTHING ELSE but talk about me and my life whilst constantly comparing it with theirs or drawing parallels with their mental existence! IT'S SO SO SO DISTURBING BECAUSE THEY HAVE LITERALLY NEVER DIRECTLY TALKED TO ME OR MY FAMILY AND I DON'T THINK THEY EVEN HAVE ANY OTHER FRIENDS IN THIS SOCIETY!!!

Their cheap behaviour constantly degrades my potential hope of having or building a healthy relationship with anyone else in society or outside too because they literally cannot stop shaming my life and belittling my reality like it threatens theirs.

If I were to get pushed to the edge of taking my own life again someday, they would be the reason. If I get diagnosed with SCHIZOPHRENIA for the amount of gaslighting they're making me deal with in the confines of my bedroom (which should ideally be my safe haven) they'd be to blame.

They try to constantly get between my familial relationships too by speaking about it in the middle everytime I'm on call with my relatives or trying to enjoy some quality family moments by not letting me have the emotional fulfillment my life requires from time to time and then they enjoy acting like I'm the obstruction between the emotional fulfillment in their married life thinking somehow it would make me happy hearing that LMFAO! They've talked about me so much this entire year - especially since my accident - that I FEEL COMPELLED TO GIVE IT BACK TO THEM IN THE CRASS WAYS THEY KEEP GIVING IT TO ME (i.e. everytime I'm bathing : I hear this couple way younger than my parents, probably without any kids of their own, embarrassing and shaming my mental sanctity as though I'm supposed to bathe like a dead body with no thoughts, as though wanting to look into the mirror and appreciate my fading beauty is a sin so grave that just hearing me do that would make them orgasm and leave them aghast like they've never done it before / everytime I'm peeing or pooping too and the water jet goes anywhere around my genitalia, they're audibly excited - it makes me wonder how much frustration they keep pent up that they can't even acknowledge each other's existence and address each other's emotional and sexual needs or desires privately, to the point of victimizing my daily life and stealing my peace - I've literally been trying so pro-actively to suppress my own baggage so as to not embarrass them just because they can't seem to get it on and save myself from being eyed down or talked down about while stepping out of my house everytime). This needs serious intervention!

I'm also sick and tired of constantly trying to be perceived by society strangers or outside strangers who have no idea what they're doing and if they're even doing it intentionally or not. This couple for instance, likes to let it be known that they belong to each other and nobody else is in the middle so much so that they're constantly getting in the middle of what I have going for me and what irritates me is their constant state of confusion and vigilance about the reality which is keeping them feeding off of my energy to make better sense of things actually happening around them. It's shameful because they project their fake expectations of the world through each other onto me constantly over it. I don't want to go to a therapist and pay them money to listen to the N number of problems I've been facing because of it (for example, I tend to get rebellious against my own family members and friends and other strangers I come across on the streets to anywhere AND EVEN THOUGH THIS IS NOT THE REASON BEHIND RAPE CASES IN THE WORLD, I KNOW FOR A FACT IN MY HEART OF HEARTS, THAT STOPPING WHAT THEY'RE DOING WITH THEIR SMALL MINDEDNESS COULD DEFINITELY HELP PREVENT MORE CASES LIKE THESE FROM HAPPENING).

My family has gone through enough social turmoil already. I'm tired of inflicting the unnecessary emotional pain and responsibility of this upon them everyday. None of this is on them. Nobody wants bad for themselves or for the world. It's stupid and naive for people to even think that way. What's even less ideal though is tapping onto or parasitically attaching yourself with another individual's potential and not letting them live to its fullest or succeed otherwise.

[bloodyquillink-blog]

Sugar and Lemon, Chapter 3 “Talk About Talking”

A/N🪶: Enjoy!

Warnings: Military inaccuracies, hand-to-hand combat described quite shittily

Word Count: 2.2K

“So you have a crush?” Keegan inquired with what seemed to be amusement in his voice.

“It’s ‘supposedly’ not a crush.” Kick answered, air quotes audible in his voice.

“Are you looking for a hookup?”

“Dude.” 

“No.” Logan mumbled.

“No shame in hookups.” Keegan pointed.

“Keegan-” Hesh nearly choked out.

“I mean just make sure you go to their place or have music playing.” Keegan, unfortunately, continued.

“Keegan.” Hesh warned.

“Look, I just don’t wanna hear anything that goes on while they’re-”

“Thank you, Keegan, for the concerns but I don’t think that’s the case.” Merrick interjected. “Point is, you want to see them again, Kick is curious, Keegan is concerned about things he doesn’t need to be concerned about and…” Merrick looked at Hesh to continue the conversation.

“I think you should go for it. Go see ‘em again. We’ll be there if you need us.” The reassurance was nice if not awkward and made Logan’s face red once again. He just nodded and stared down at his plate. Kick piped up again.

“I mean 3’s a crowd and 4’s a bit much so Keegan and I can come with and Cap and Hesh can stay-” Hesh stopped that thought.

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“I’m sorry, weren’t you talking about stalking this person as you walked in here?”

“We were talking about ways I could help him. Way to gaslight, David.”

“Following a person home is not helpful.”

“It’s not following a person home, it’s…” David raised a brow as Kick thought, “...Learning more about a civilian without their awareness.” The group shared a chuckle. “Alright, fine, we’ll be there as long as you want us there, Logan.” Kick yielded, comfortingly so.

“Thank you.” Logan rasped, he cleared his throat again.

“You getting sick, kid?” Keegan asked.

“No, just tired…” Kick nudged his foot against Logan’s. “...I had another nightmare.” Kick nudged him again, “And panic attack.” 

Logan described the nightmare, but the team already knew what he had seen. It wasn’t the first time he had such a dream. He had talked about it before in and out of therapy. Regardless, hearing it each time made the men ache as though their own hearts were trying to force themselves out to protect the nearly broken Ghost. They weren’t unfamiliar with the guilt that came with being unable to save a teammate, especially someone they were all close to.

Logan kept talking about how, when his panic attack was over, he stepped outside and Kick stayed with him. Merrick subtly nodded at Kick, a silent “thank you”.

“I feel better now, I just needed some time.”

“Maybe with a little company?” David suggested.

“Maybe.”

“You can come get us if you need someone. Right, guys?” The other three voiced their agreement.

“You know I’m awake whenever I shouldn’t be, so if you don’t wanna wake up these boys, I’m here.” Kick put his hand on Logan’s shoulder. Logan didn’t flinch this time. Whether he was just too tired to do so or appreciated the contact, Kick didn’t know. Either way, it was something to bring up to his therapist next time they passed one another. Maybe he could talk to the others about it too.

“Damn night owl. Do you ever sleep?” Merrick asked but he already knew the answer.

“If I take double the recommended dose of my sleep meds, yes, but you said that was ‘unsafe’ and ‘shouldn’t be necessary’.” Kick argued.

The two talked about his sleeping habits and eventually the Merrick’s. At one point, Keegan’s was brought up, but Keegan just remained silent and let the bickering drone on while the brothers watched. Logan handed his fruit cup to David and David exchanged his toast that seemed to always be burned, just the way Logan liked. The habit had been long standing since their shared childhood. Logan would give his fruit cups to David in exchange for some type of starch or carb like, usually burned, breakfast potatoes or toast. After joining the Ghosts, Keegan would just watch and make commentary on the “char”, as he called it. It was never exactly the same degree of scorch as the day prior but still had a toasted layer (or “ash”) on the surface. 

As the two continued bickering while the others watched, more of their brothers in arms filed in to get their food and sit amongst each other at the open tables. Keegan watched Logan carefully. Normally, he’d leave around now to avoid the growing noise and crowd. Yet he stayed. Logan noticed his staring and Keegan smiled. Not a smirk or any expression suggested something. Just a genuine smile. A proud one perhaps. 

Eventually, breakfast was over. Kick, David, Keegan and Logan went outside to exercise together amongst the recruits while Merrick stayed in to continue paperwork. Riley joined Logan and the others. Since his return from Rorke, Riley very rarely strayed from Logan despite technically belonging to Hesh. The group decided to go on a run together. At the beginning of his return, Logan could hardly run a mile, having lost much of his strength. When the team ran together, they slowed their pacing so as to not overwork Logan. After much physical therapy, as well as being cheered on by his new family, he was able to run longer distances while managing to stay ahead of the group. He may have nightmares but his determination remained strong as he did, with mild bumps in the road to full recovery. 

After about the usual 5 miles, they spent the rest of the day in the gym, working themselves and bringing on unnecessary but friendly competition. Rather than count each pull-up or bench press, Logan thought about you. The lighting in your cafe seemed to accentuate the warmth you displayed towards him and his awkwardness. You worked so hard, seemingly on your own, to make each customer happy. It looked like it worked too. You were so kind and non-judgemental, an ideal owner of a small business, or café rather. As nice as the thoughts were, negativity slowly seeped into his thoughts, it had begun to block the light his mind set you in. 

You, with your sweetness, would hate the blood on his hands.

If you saw the things he’s seen, the things he’s done…

How would he talk to you with the horrors that plagued his mind so often? Logan paused and shook his head. No. Not today, not with you. He’s not ruining the thought of you with his issues. You were someone good, someone positive. For fuck’s sake, he put you in his victory journal. That’s gotta mean something. Logan thought about what everyone had said when he talked about you. Maybe he should ask you out. Logan continued his workout. He felt like a damn high schooler again… and it felt good. Logan chewed on his lower lip as he attempted to fight the smile growing on his face. Footsteps gradually approached him.

“You know what it means when thinking about someone makes you smile?” David asked, a small grin on his face. Logan held the weighted barbell in the air, his eyes trained on his brother. “It means you should go see them again. Maybe you should keep seeing them.” Logan set the barbell back on the stand and sat up. “You do want to see them again, right?” 

“Well, yeah,” David sat beside Logan on the bench. “I just don’t know if they want to.”

“They do. You heard them yesterday, you know they want to. At least they’re open to seeing you again.” Logan rubbed his hands together, his calluses scratched against one another. “Thing is, you have to be the one to start this. I mean they’re stuck in a café that you can go to pretty much whenever and they know next to nothing about you.” Outside of their conversation, Kick and Keegan were sparring. From what it sounded like, no one was winning. David looked over at them and stood. “I know you can do it, Logan. I know they’ll want to have something with you, but you need to give them and yourself an opportunity.” With that, David bumped Logan’s shoulder with his fist and walked over to the mat where the pair continued to spar. Logan thought for a bit as he watched David cheering them on. It wasn’t clear who he was cheering for if not for both Kick and Keegan.

Logan thought hard. He had an opportunity. He always did, as long as the café was open. Logan pulled out his phone and looked at your website. He clicked and scrolled until he found the open and closing times. He might as well rip the bandaid off and just do it. Tomorrow was Saturday, so there shouldn't be much, if any, work for his colleagues to do. They were curious about you. Plus, it had been a bit since everyone last spent time together aside from meals and whatnot without the recruits. He stared at the picture of you that you had on your website. Logan scrolled up and copied the link to your website. He opened the groupchat the team shared and sent the link with a message:

“How’s Saturday for everyone?”

Logan put his phone away and walked over to the blue mat where the spar went on. David backed up as Logan stepped into the white circle that separated combat practice from outer activity and exercise. Keegan had pinned Kick down, arm held against his back as Kick continued to squirm in the hold.

“Joinin’ a little late, ki-” Keegan didn’t finish the sentence as Logan wrapped his arms around Keegan’s midsection and rolled to the side, freeing Kick. Logan and Keegan quickly stood up into defensive positions. One fist beside their chin, the other extended forward. Keegan rushed towards Logan, an attempt to throw off his balance by locking their legs and pulling Logan’s arm past his face. Logan was prepared, muscle memory of similar sparring sessions on his side. Logan let Keegan take his arm, taking the time to move his leg back before bringing it back to wrap around Keegan’s and pull Keegan forward, knocking his balance instead. Keegan ended up on one knee as Logan shifted his arm, still in Keegan’s grasp, using the grip to pull Keegan’s arm and trap his arm against his back and Logan moved behind Keegan, using his weight and Keegan’s to trap Keegan in the same hold he had Kick on the mat. He managed to grab Keegan’s other wrist and pinned that against his back as well. Logan pressed his weight down harder, a silent warning to Keegan. When Keegan tried forcing his legs backwards onto Logan, Logan shifted so one of his knees rested on the back of Keegan’s thigh and his balance was still solid. Keegan was effectively pinned. 

The two were barely panting. Kick walked around in front of Keegan.

“How’s it feel, tough guy?” Kick asked, smugly.

“Pretty relaxing actually, might have to do this more often if you can actually get me next time.” Sarcasm evident in Keegan’s tone.

“Yeah yeah, fuck off.” Logan got up, releasing Keegan as they bumped fists.

“Lotta improvement, kid, keep it up.” With that, the group wiped equipment down and left the gym, making room for other soldiers to train. 

~Small Time Skip~

The end of the day finally came. Logan laid back on his bed thinking about everything that happened that day. He’d already written a bit in his journal and was contemplating going to sleep early when his phone buzzed.

K. Russ: “Introducing us to your special someone already?”

Logan rolled his eyes.

Kick the Bucket: “im down”

Kick the Bucket: “as long as im not paying”

K. Russ: “Usually the man pays but seeing as we can’t use that rule, you get what you pay for. Have fun watching me eat.”

Kick the Bucket: “rude”

Kick the Bucket: “some gentleman you are”

K. Russ: “Are you crying yet?”

Kick sent a middle finger.

Kick the Bucket: “merrick wouldn’t treat me like this”

Captain Crunch: “I wouldn’t treat you at all.”

Captain Crunch: “I’ll join. Tomorrow at 1100. I’ve been in this office too damn long.”

David Dub: “Stretching your legs is good for you old man”

Captain Crunch: “I’m legally allowed to come into your room without permission. Watch it.”

David Dub: “Yessir”

Logan got a separate message from David.

David Dub: “Think I can make it out the window before Merrick catches me?”

Logan typed back.

Lincoln Logs: “Hm.”

David Dub: “Knock on his door, run back to my room, open the window, jump and run for it.”

Logan imagined the scene in his head.

Lincoln Logs: “You’ll make it out the window but Merrick will either close the window on you and lock you out of your room or follow you out the window and catch you.”

David Dub: “Another day maybe”

Lincoln Logs: “Maybe.”

David Dub: “Ok g’night”

Lincoln Logs: “Goodnight.”

Logan put his phone down and turned off the lamp. Sleep came easily after some breathing techniques. His mind too tired to rewind the nightmare that’s haunted him too many times over since his return. As tired as he was, he felt excitement at the thought of seeing you again.

[miya2006]

Weird family, but it works. And I love them!

The heat was bad, it felt as if they were filming on the sun and the stage lights definitely weren't helping the case. Boyd has been feeling ill the past couple of days but hasn't had any symptoms. Not even towards Covid, he is just sick and tired. 

The days on set felt longer and longer, and the weird glances from his co-workers grew by the hour. It wasn’t like Boyd to stumble over his lines or his own feet. He could see, compared to when he was in The sandman. He couldn’t see with the glasses of the Corinthian but now he can. 

People have asked him if everything is okay, but he always says yes. He doesn't need anyone to worry, he doesn’t want anyone to worry. Worry means that people would actually care and look after him. 

He doesn’t want to waste anyone’s time or energy. He is 41 years old, he should be able to take care of himself right?

Well turns out he can’t, not until it becomes painfully aware just how sick he is. It was a normal day at set and Boyd still felt as bad as before. He was dizzy, nauseous and felt like his entire body was just some lump of exhaustion. He tried to keep everything under wraps but it didn’t last long. Timothy must have sensed something was wrong so he had cornered Boyd in his trailer, his worry over Boyd becoming too much.

He had noticed what the others probably hadn’t. He has seen the slight shiver Boyd had, and it hadn’t gone away even after Boyd got some warm clothes to wear. Timothy likes Boyd, he is a great actor and Timothy is over the moon that they got Boyd to play Clement.

He walked into Boyd’s trailer without warning, more chance of Boyd not being able to hide it again. Timothy has tried a couple of times to talk to Boyd but everytime he always denies anything is wrong and just smiles at him and tells him not to worry. This time he won’t be able to.

He walked in and noticed Boyd on the couch, his head in his hands and a bucket by his side. He could see a slight shake in his body as if he was cold. Boyd jumped when the door suddenly closed with a bang, looking up at Timothy with a confused look.

“You okay, Boydo?” He asked, he knew the answer but he had decided to give Boyd one chance before he put his foot down and told Boyd to just let them in a bit or he might get worse in terms of sickness and his general mental health. 

Timothy always sees mental health as something important to talk about, and he didn’t need to spend a long time with Boyd to see that there was something hiding between the surface. Something many wouldn’t see unless they had experienced bad mental health themselves. And he had a suspicion that Boyd had pushed himself too hard and his body became sick from the lack of rest.

“Not really..” Timothy walked over and felt Boyd’s forehead, noticing the small amount of throw up in the bucket as well.

“You’re burning up, Kiddo.” He said as he ran his fingers through Boyd’s hair. Making a last minute decision he texted Vivian and asked if she could bring his backpack from his trailer.

“Alright, so here’s what we are going to do. You sit here and relax for a bit while I pick up some of your stuff and then we will meet up with Vivian and go home. You will be joining me and Vivian at our place, my wife and other kids are not here right now so the house will be quiet and calm.” He said, Boyd understood by the stern voice that he didn’t really have much room to protest. Not that he would anyways, he can’t really help but look at  Timothy as a brother figure but in times like these where he takes care of Boyd, he goes from brother to father. 

“Ok” Came the small voice from the couch. Seeing and hearing how bad Boyd was feeling he hurried with picking up some stuff from the little wardrobe as well as the book he had seen Boyd reading earlier this week. As well as some toiletries like his toothbrush if he felt strong enough at some point to brush his teeth. 

Once finished he walked over to Boyd and put his arm around his waist in case he wasn’t steady enough to stand on his own. Together they slowly walked outside the trailer and met with Vivian. She took one single look at Boyd before she fondly but concerned shook her head a bit before flanking him between her and her father as they walked to the car. 

Timothy got in the front seat, though he did so after a small argument over who was going to sit in the back with Boyd. Neither wanting him to sit alone in the back but neither of them wanting to leave his side if anything were to happen.

Vivian didn’t mind, she had talked to her father about her worries over Boyd in the last couple of days. Even if Timothy hadn’t gone into his trailer, she would find a way to get Boyd with them anyways. She likes Boyd, he doesn’t act like she only got the part because of her dad. He is like her brother, he teases her and messes up her hair and makes her laugh when there is nothing for her to do on set so she won’t get bored.

They lived about a 20 minute drive away from the set, and Vivian could feel her worry build more and more when she saw how the traffic was getting heavy. Lucky for them it seems the traffic came behind them rather in front of them.

Boyd leaned his head on Vivian’s shoulder, too tired to hold his head up. Making a rash decision she took out Boyd’s seatbelt and moved him so he could lay down a bit. With his head in her lap, she started to run her hands through his hair, hoping it would bring him some comfort. 

Despite the pain in his head, Boyd opened his eyes slightly and smiled up at her. No word said, just an understanding look meeting a thankful one. Timothy smiled to himself when he looked in the rearview mirror and noticed what Vivian had decided.

With the feeling of her fingers running through his hair, it didn’t take Boyd long before he fell asleep. And not long before they arrived at their house either. Neither wanted to wake Boyd, he looked peaceful for once. The past couple of weeks he has seemed bothered by something as well as restless. Never seeming to be able to keep still in one place. 

A lot of people on set were worried, all of them could see something wasn’t right. But no one dared to confront him about it, unsure of how he would react. Timothy couldn’t help but think about how far it could have gone if he hadn’t lost his patience. 

He is undoubtedly happy he lost his patience when he did. He does not for the life of him want to think about what would have happened if he hadn’t. How sick could Boyd have gotten? Would he be able to get home safe? Or would he be able to get home at all?

Shaking his head, he stood up and opened the door on the other side of Vivian. Leaning over to pick Boyd up bridal style and making sure he was able to rest his head in Timothy’s neck rather than leaning it backwards with no support.

Vivian ran ahead to open the door downstairs before continuing into the guest bedroom closest to them and found some blankets before laying them out on the couch.

Timothy placed Boyd down while Vivian went to get the bags from the car. 

He looked down at Boyd, suddenly being hit with what they had missed for days. The dark circles under his eyes, the almost constant frown when he thought people weren’t looking. He ran his hand through Boyd’s slightly sweaty hair when it fell down in his face. 

Timothy is fully aware of what Boyd look at him. Like he is a family member, a brother or sometimes - like now- a father. And Timothy finds that he does not mind. Not one bit. 

Vivian walked up to her room after a little while of them sitting in silence once she was back. Timothy didn’t leave, he didn’t want Boyd to wake up alone in a place he hadn’t even been in before.

The outside grew darker and he grew hungry. Texting Vivian to come down to keep an eye on Boyd, when she had sat down he nodded to himself and went ahead with some dinner. Figuring Boyd probably wouldn’t feel up to much he made some basic pasta with vegetables. A standard favorite and expectation whenever someone in the house got sick.

When he walked back out with the food he couldn’t help but smile. Boyd has woken up and is hugging Vivian while she is rubbing his back and hugging back just as tight as he does.

He placed the food down and gave the kids each their bowl. Before turning on the tv on low volume. Once they had eaten, he checked Boyd’s forehead again. Luckily almost no fever, his sweating had gone away yet the shaking was still there. 

Together they moved Boyd up into the room closest to the master bedroom so Timothy could keep an eye on him in case something happens. 

And it did come in handy, in the middle of the night Timothy sat upright in bed in a matter of seconds. His brain took a second to figure out what was going on, once he understood he launched himself out of bed and ran into the room Boyd was occupying, Vivian right behind him. 

The screaming died down and crying filled the room, and he pulled a bit on Boyd so he was leaning into his chest and holding him close he gently rocked him.

“It’s okay, let it out. It’s okay, darling.” He whispered into the darkness, his eyes scanning the room trying to find Vivian. Almost as if she had read his thoughts she had stood up; 

“I’m going downstairs to get him some water. I’ll come into your room with it.” She said before taking her leave. Slowly Boyd made a clear movement and a little nudge at Timothy. 

Together they stood up slowly, Boyd taking some shaky steps as they walked across the hall. Getting under the covers, Boyd hid his face in Timothy’s chest. Vivian came in as well and climbed in on the other side of Boyd leaning her head on his arm.

Silence overtook the room as he drank a bit of the water. Timothy sent him a small comforting look, not pushing but concerned about what just happened in the room not even 5 meters away from where they are now. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Timothy asked, his mind jumping from idea to idea over what it could be. 

“It was about David..” Just that sentence alone made Timothy’s heart break. He knew how close they were, he has listened to several stories about him and he has seen how many times he has worked with Boyd. And he has always had a suspicion that David views Boyd the same way he does. 

Vivan must have felt somewhat the same, as she cuddled closer before kissing Boyd on the forehead. 

“I’ll leave you two for the night. "Sleep well.” She said, sending a glance over to Timothy. Wanting to check that he would be alright, giving her a nod, she smiled and took her leave for the night.  

Timothy didn’t know what to say, or if he even knew what the right thing to say is. So he pulled Boyd closer and whispered;

“It’s okay. You lost someone very dear to you. It’s normal even though it has been many years since. You’re still human, Boyd. And if you have another nightmare tonight, I’ll be here. So get comfortable because you wont leave this room and be on your own after this.” Timothy counted it as a victory when Boyd smiled. 

“I don’t feel that sick anymore. No need to throw up, just a small headache.” 

“That’s good, I think you slept off most of it and the food certainly helped. This role of yours for the new project seems to take more of a toll on you than you realize.” He said, but they both knew that a conversation like that would be happening soon enough.

“Yeah..” Was all Boyd said before silence overtook yet again. Timothy kept up the movement of running his fingers through Boyd’s hair and it didn’t take long before he could feel Boyd’s breathing slowing down before it evened out and his body relaxed. 

TImothy pulled him closer before succumbing to the sleepiness as well.

The rest of the night went without incident, both the resident of the room slept safe and sound as did the one resident a bit further down the hall.

Can be found on AO3 as well: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51200383

[thegreatarlecchina]

Thank you all for waiting so patiently on my latest Star Palace Fanfic! So without further ado pleas enjoy…

Making Friends!

The workday was finally over and Y/n let out a sigh of relief as the last customers filed out of the building. Today had been good all things considered, but their social battery was thoroughly depleted. Y/n wasn’t necessarily an antisocial person, but hours of nonstop interaction was just plain tiring. Their cheeks practically ached from smiling for so long. Why had they even taken a customer service position in the first place!? Their phone buzzed in their pocket, *Reminder: Feed Pagliacci*. Oh yeah that’s why. They couldn’t wait to get home to their little fluffball, that cat was more goofy than all the clowns they worked with put together. Once they got out of here they could finally curl up, snuggle their furry friend and- “Y/n wait up!” A familiar voice called just as Y/n was about to clock out. “Heeeey Wesley…” Y/n strained, trying not to sound as unpleasant as they felt. The boy quickly took note of their demeanor before shrinking back just a bit. “I know you're about to clock out, and it’s totally ok if you say no! But I um… need a favor.” The boy explained, clearly desperate. Y/n liked Wesley, they really did! But the poor kid always seemed to be getting in his own way. It was clear that he wanted to be useful (oh how he wanted it), but he hadn’t quite gotten his bearings yet. It didn’t help that the women who should have been mentoring him only did the bare minimum of what it took to keep her job. “Y/n?” He prodded, breaking them from their daze once more. “Oh! Yeah, uh what do you need bud?” They inquired, they were going to help him regardless (they couldn’t not help the poor kid) but they wanted to prepare themselves if it was anything like the Taki incident. “It’s about the bots…” he trailed. “Please don’t be Fairy! Please don’t be Fairy!” They thought to themselves. It’s not that they didn’t enjoy their time with Fairy Floss, but her overbearing peppiness was just one more thing they didn’t want to deal with right now. At least Zavy could read the room, but even he was quite the chatterbox. God forbid the two were together. Those two could prattle on for hours… “It’s Mirage,” the ginger revealed, “they had a bit of a conflict earlier today and they said they needed to recharge but it's been hours. Doc was supposed to look them over but she clocked out early…” Oh! Now it made sense, Wesley hated going into Mirage's room. Most everyone was creeped out by the whey faced robot but Wesley seemed genuinely frightened of the bot for reasons Y/n couldn’t quite grasp. “They don’t bite ya’know.” Y/n chuckled as they made their way down the hall. Wesley, taking this as a yes, followed them. “I know! It’s just…. I tried to go in their earlier and they were just sitting there arguing with their puppets and they-” Wesley said hastily attempting to justify the aversion before realizing how stupid he probably sounded “I’m sorry…” the Ginger began to apologize as they approached their destination. “Don’t worry about it dude! I’m just yankin your chains!” They reassured, “I’ll be fine, it shouldn’t take to long anyway.” Finally, the two stood outside the maroon door, Wesley fidgeting with his tool bag. “I can take it from here buddy.” Y/n prompted, seeming to catch Wesley somewhat by surprise. “Are you sure? We could go together since I have more ummm mechanical training.” He offered. “Nah it’s okay,” Y/n responded shaking their head, “besides if it is a tech problem I’ll call it in and y’all can fix it tomorrow.” The carrot top’s expression relaxed as he huffed out a breath of relief. “Thank you,” he sighed “for real!” And with that the boy was off.

“Okay theeen..?” Y/n turned to face the wine colored door, decorated with flourishing gold calligraphy befitting of the thespian inside. They knocked, once, twice, thrice. “Hello? Mirage?” They spoke, hoping for a “Come in!” Or “It’s open!” But alas, nothing. “It’s Y/n,” they prefaced as they opened the door“I’m coming in.” Unlocked. The door was unlocked, or rather, it never had a lock to begin with. It was something so small, but so sad.

They felt guilty entering the dimly lit room. It was one more loss of agency, one more way to dehumanize the bots who weren’t given that much autonomy to begin with. They were so smart, so human, they at least deserved some personal space. (Although some of them seemed to prefer the personal space of others more enticing) As Y/n walked around the claret colored room, they couldn’t help but notice the array of puppets in various stages of completion. The smell of wood varnish filled the air, as they scanned the room for the elusive puppeteer. Suddenly several muffled voices caught their attention. They seemed to be coming from a large wooden chest in the corner to the room. Y/n began to approach the mysterious chest before a hand on their shoulder abruptly cut them off. “What are you doing here?!” Demanded the high pitched voice. With a loud yelp, Y/n jumped, stumbling backwards. Despite the anger in their tone, the bot had the same ever-present smile plastered on their face. “Jesus Christ dude!” Y/n spat, slowly gaining their bearings “You almost gave me a heart attack!” How the heck were they so quiet? Where were they hiding? Why hadn’t they announced themselves? Question after question swam through the employee’s head as Mirage continued to glare down at them, unwavering. “Why are you in my room?” They practically growled, okay now they understood why Wesley has such severe trepidations. “Woah man!” They shot back, throwing their hands up as if admitting defeat, “I was just coming in to check on you!” Before Mirage could respond a sassy little huff could be heard from across the room. “It’s about time someone did!” Piped a soft feminine voice. “Wha- Ery!” Protested a very frustrated Mirage, who had turned around to face what appeared to be an intricately carved wooden marionette.

The puppet was sitting on a dark velveteen cushion that had been placed on a chair, with her hands folded neatly in her lap. Y/n vaguely recalled seeing her before, as Mirage often carried her around the building as a sort of comfort item. “You’ll have to excuse them dear,” the puppet apologized , “they’ve been in poor humor all day.” Y/n couldn’t help but chuckle at the little lady’s comment. (Earning them a killer side eye from the animatronic before them) The way she spoke was akin to that of a mother apologizing for her grumpy child who had missed their nap. “Well thank you for your concern, but I can assure you that Im just fine! Now if you’ll excuse us-” insisted the pale faced bot wasting no time attempting to shoo Y/n out of their room, much to Y/n’s annoyance, “We were quite busy before you arrived unannounced so goodbye and good day!” “Now hold on just one minute!” Y/n sassed, spinning to face the bot, “First of all I did not come in unannounced, I knocked!” “Thrice my love.” Added the puppet. “Thank you madam! Secondly I don’t wanna be here either!” Y/n continued as the puppet master began steadily backing up, seeking comfort in their beloved Ery. “Listen, since neither of us wanna deal with each other right now, why don’t we just get this over with. I’ll make it as quick as possible and we can both have some alone time.” They offered. Mirages head gave a odd little twitch as they mulled over the proposition. “That….that’s fair I suppose.” They sighed, picking up both Ery and her cushion before making their way over to their woodworking table, sitting themselves and the puppet down. “May I?” Y/n asked pointing at a free spot at the table. “It seems you’ve already decided.” Mirage grumbled. “Oh hush, you!” Ery chastised as Y/n took a seat, “Though I must ask darling, why is it you’ve come to visit us? I do admit not many people chose our company. Although I haven’t an inkling why.” The puppet remarked, nodding subtly toward Mirage, who in return gave a huffy little noise. Oh Y/n was gonna get along with her just fine.

“Wesley told me something happened today.” At this the twitching returned and the bot grew visibly nervous, beginning to stress stimm with their gloves. “It’s okay! You’re not in trouble!”

They attempted to no avail, “At least I don’t think you are….Anyway! He said you needed to recharge for a while but didn’t come out, so he was worried you weren’t charging properly.” Mirage looked down, then at Y/n before deadpanning “If he was so concerned why didn’t he come to me himself?” At this Y/n started to respond before stopping. What were they supposed to say? Y/n didn’t know Mirage very well (not that any of the employees did) but stating the obvious would hurt their feelings wouldn’t it? Sure they were more reclusive than the other two, but no one wanted to be told they were undesirable. No matter what Mirage might have wanted them to think Y/n figured they weren’t as threatening as they were made out to be. But on the other hand Mirage would know if they were lying to spare their feelings and that could be worse. “Oh you know how the poor boy is, scared of his own shadow.” Ery commented before Y/n could hesitate for too long.

They awkwardly chuckled in agreement before looking at Mirage who had looked askance. “I did recharge, earlier this morning.” They admitted, picking up Ery from her own chair and placing her on their lap. “You see dear, my love had to save me from some unsavory rapscallions. I thought it was quite romantic really.” She regaled, Mirage flustered at her flattery “But the woman in the coat didn’t share my sentiment I’m afraid. We were both a bit shaken up after that and well the others… weren’t helping.” As if on cue the muffled voices from before piped up again. “So those are the other puppets in there?” Y/n queried, motioning toward the chest from earlier. “They were being unpleasant, so we put them in a time out.” Ery said. At this the voices seemed to get angrier which prompted a response from their master, “Quiet, you lot!” The bot scolded, causing the voices to die down.

“So you just wanted a break?” Y/n inquired. Mirage gave a shy nod in response. They seemed less volatile now, but more nervous than before. As if hey we’re expecting to be punished simply for wanting some personal time. “Oh… I’m sorry that happened to you. Teenagers suck.” They comforted, “I won't tell Doc, and as agreed I’ll leave you be.” They stood up from the table making their way toward the door.

Wait, just like that? No grilling them for details? No snide remarks? No scolding them for missing work? “Wait!” The tall being beckoned jumping up from their seat, “You're leaving?” Y/n looked back at the jester quizzically. “Yesss? Did you want me to stay?” Mirage hesitated, why did they call to them? They did want them to leave, didn’t they? “It’s just that….You’re not upset with me? Really?” They inquired clutching their beloved Ery close to their chest. “Of course not!” Y/n snapped, “I’m sorry about before. I didn’t mean to be as snippy as I was, and I wasn’t even thinking that you might be just as tired as I was.” An odd warmth crept over the bot’s sensors. Sorry? Nobody had ever apologized to them before. “I’m not mad at you for wanting to take a break dude, I just wanted to make sure you were okay! Besides,” they leaned in, “If doc wants to bitch about it so bad I’ll just remind her caffeinated ass how often she’s outside puffing like a freight train instead of doing her job.” Ery nodded enthusiastically at this statement.

Mirage was dumbstruck. They felt…validated. Like for the first time someone was in their corner. (Other than Ery of course) Somebody who didn’t make them feel like they were crazy just for standing up for themselves. “Would you…perhaps like to see what I’ve been working on?” The bot asked cautiously, much to Y/n’s surprise. “Umm sure?” They answered their gaze following Mirage to a wooden drawer on their wood working table. The animatronic opened it to reveal an array of brightly colored yarn and thread, with some wooden beads rolling around, helter skelter. But that wasn’t all, as their gloves reached into the drawer to reveal a darling woolen doll. It was simple, for a head a wooden bead with a face painted on and thick jute for arms and legs, but the real craftsmanship was in the clothes. The dolly dawned golden hair made of embroidery thread and tied back in a bun. She also sported a white gown made from yarn and finished with a blue sash of satin ribbon. “Oh Mirage, She’s beautiful!” They breathed in awe. “If you like her so much, we can show you how to make one dear!” Ery prompted, giving Mirages sleeve a little tug. “Would you?” Said the star struck Y/n turning to the bot. “I suppose we could- Since Ery wants to of course!” They retorted. It seemed odd having someone besides their puppets in the workshop, but not as unpleasant as they expected. It felt…good to be wanted. And so Mirage spent the rest of the afternoon doing something they never thought they would enjoy….making friends.

[numericalassassin]

Assassins Rendezvous

A drabble for @nicholas-wolfwood about Nicholas and Zer0 meeting up on Gunsmoke for the first time.

Nicholas sat at another dusty table in another dusty bar, for once enjoying the peace and quiet of not having Vash right at his side. Meryl and Milly had dragged him off to do God only knew what and Nick had made sure to be out of the girl’s sight when they’d come for the gunslinger. Vash had, of course, spotted him and made it very clear it was his turn next but hey, that was only if he couldn’t manage to distract Milly and thus distract Meryl and redirect attention back to Vash again which was getting much easier with practice. For now he ate in peace, letting the gossip of the place wash over him as a kind of background buzz, only lingering on bits and pieces here and there.

Any calls for Plant techs, any suddenly vanished towns, any new bandit groups causing trouble. Not much of note today.

“Did you hear about that odd new bandit being reported?” Some young mother fussed over her toddler. “A few towns have mentioned running him off, I heard it on the satellite.”

“The weird tall one, all in black? Yeah I heard about him. Definitely a thief from what my cousin told me. He’s got family out that way. Probably some no-good scout for a gang.” An older man at the bar chimed in.

“Tall, wears a black body suit, helmet with a black visor so dark you can’t see his face?” The barkeeper asked and Nicholas’ ears perked up. That was an odd description for sure. “Heard he uses a sword that glows, maybe he’s part of that neon gang?”

A bite paused halfway to Nick’s mouth. Dark visored helmet and a sword that glowed. It couldn’t be. There was no way in Heaven or Hell. Not possible.

“I dunno, he doesn’t seem to have done much but you can’t be too careful with people like that. You can’t trust a man that won’t show his face.”

Won’t or can’t, Nick wondered, resuming his meal but not quite tasting it anymore. Please don’t let it be who it sounds like. Please let one person be out of his Master’s reach for good. Please.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zer0 hated Gunsmoke. Hated this planet with every fiber of their being. Two suns beating down, the lack of access to water, the sand getting inside their suit, and the hopeless, defensive people. They hissed, a misstep on a loose incline jostling the bullet hole in their side. At least they’d managed to find a little nook to tuck themself into to wrap the wound up but the need to keep moving was stronger then the pain. If they’d been slightly faster, not quite as tired from not having many places to rest and recover, they might have slipped by without taking the hit but...

Terrified and angry faces, shouts and shots before Zer0 could get more then a few words in edgewise, ducking around a corner to hear the sound of a gun racking, sword swinging in a defensive arc- A young boy with terror in his eyes and a gun in his hands, aimed at them.

Yeah, there wasn’t much they were going to be able to do to avoid that hit, not while they were within arm’s reach and having to abort a swing that would have taken off the boy’s head. They’d corrected in time to only hit the stone of the doorway he was standing in but they’d stumbled in the process and taken a bullet to the side. After that, they’d just bailed with Decepti0n. The civilians were already afraid of them and having swung at a child wasn’t going to endear them to the unknown and frightening newcomer, no matter that they’d rather cut their own hands off then willingly hurt a kid.

Zer0 sighed and kept walking. At least they’d learned to sneak in and get a look around first so they’d gotten a good look at a map showing the next town. Stealing supplies to make the next trek was only going to last them so long.

Apparently they should have listened when Nicholas called his home a total shitshow. Damn their sentimentality, it was absolutely going to get them killed and the other Vault Hunters were going to laugh themselves sick when they heard about it. Hopefully after murdering whatever actually ended them first. Unless it was just the suns. Dying of exposure would be a really shitty way to go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Yeah we were able to chase him out! Caught him skulking around in an abandoned building where the children play, probably just waiting to kidnap our kids!” The man shook his fist, looking something between terrified and elated. Remembered adrenaline high no doubt, with just the memory enough to make him jittery. Ugh, civilians.

“Oh no that’s terrible! Good thing you were able to chase him off before he caused any trouble!” Milly said, absolutely eating it all up. Meryl nodded along, just as enthusiastic.

“You always have to be careful about the kinds of people you tolerate in your city! Always keep a close eye out for trouble!” Nick rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses, half exasperated, half fond. The girls were in rare form.

“Yeah! It was the darnest thing, you’d almost think he was more scared of us with how quickly he ran! He must have been about to pull something awful!”

“I shot him!” A squeaky voice announced and Nicholas started, looking down at the scrunched face of a boy who could barely be called a teenager. His face was dirty and his hair mussed and he had a scrappy looking SMG on a strap on his back. Too young by far to be having to join this town’s little militia and that hidden, bruised heart in Nick’s chest took another hit. Vash crouched down and ruffled the kid’s hair.

“Did you now? I hope you were just aiming to scare them off. It’s not right to take another person’s life you know.” The kid scowled to hide the blush at the attention as the adults made vague indulging noises and turned back to the girls. They didn’t believe him but Vash did and Nick trusted Vash’s instincts a hell of a lot more then random civilians.

“I didn’t hit ‘em bad, just in the side. ‘E swung his sword at me but I ducked and ‘e missed!” The kid leaned a little closer and Nick looked away, pretending his ears couldn’t pick up every word like it was right next to him. “I dun think ‘e’s human Mister Vash! ‘E must be Lost Tech stuff! ‘E didn’t bleed red, ‘e bled black!”

Nick stood up, too abrupt, not casual enough even as he slouched under the weight of his cross. Vash was looking at him, teal eyes too sharp for that spikey head of his.

“Since you’re all gonna talk to all these fine people and get the scoop, I’ll head for the next town huh? Maybe rent us a decent place to stay for once and poke around for some jobs. Maybe I’ll even find something Vash can be good at this time!” He smiled his fake smile and Vash paused before giving him his own bullshit grin. Milly looked between the two for a moment before smiling her usual, happy way. The one that said she might not know what was up but she knew there was something but she was trusting him to deal with it.

“Good thinking Wolfwood! If you find a good place to work, could you treat me to something? Please?”

“Ugh, yeah, yeah ya moocher, fine! You girls keep him out of trouble while I’m gone, you hear?” He meandered off towards the inn and his bike, ignoring the curious gaze boring into his back. He just needed a little time, he had to find out for sure first-!

Body suit, dark visored helmet, glowing sword. Black blood, spilled because he wouldn’t hurt a kid even when he had a gun aimed at him.

Dammit Zer0, it better not be you-!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Caution, this time. More so even then before. Keep to the roofs because no one thinks to look up, only move at night time to keep in cover of dark. Not as easy with a hastily patched hole in their side but they’d functioned on less. If nothing else, this was an exercise in remembering to be fucking grateful whenever Maya had to heal them. So much easier then stitching themself up.

This town was buzzing, an ant hill that was kicked with people running every which way, yelling about bandits and outlaws and raiders. Zer0 sighed and fount a nook to tuck themself into; clearly this wasn’t going to be a town they could stay in either. Probably they should just leave now before they were spotted but... They were tired. They needed a rest. If everyone was busy running around yelling, they were far less likely to be found and disturbed. Or shot again. Nap time.

Of course they were woken up only hours later by whimpers and muffled cries moving just below their current perch. Carefully shifting, they peer down from the shadows to see a young girl being dragged along by two much bigger men, tied up and crying as she was manhandled. Well. Seems they found the ones kicking the ant hill and for once it wasn’t their mere existence causing the disturbance. They slide off the roof and drop to the ground silently, only pausing a moment to evaluate before darting forward and taking out the two men with a series of quick hits that had them on the ground in moments and the little girl free but terrified. Zer0 made quick work of the bindings on her and ruffled her hair carefully before she ran off toward home.

One child saved. But how many others were left now who’d been taken before they’d gotten here? Zer0 sighed and darted off into the dark. Ungrateful civilians or not, they weren’t letting children suffer while they could do something about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nicholas leaned on a wall, tucked partway in an alley as he watched the civilians stand in the street and shout. Slave ring, it looked like, and no one sounded happy. The slavers were demanding their captives back and the civilians were demanding they leave, all in all a huge shouting match with far too many weapons being waved around. Funny though, an awful lot of the raiders were injured, screaming about a shadow taking them down and stealing their goods.

A scuffle erupted, a scream as someone was grabbed up as a hostage, and Nicholas is moving before he consciously thought about it, training and habit from Vash both kicking in to intervene and save whoever was screaming. But he’s not the first one to act, or the closest. A shape materializes among the bandits, knocking the knees out from under the one holding the woman and dropping him before sweeping her up and leaping to safety. Or would be safety if the bandits weren’t all aiming at the fleeing shape shielding her with his body. Shots rang out before Nick was moving, firing and knocking guns out of hands and the shape stumbled but didn’t go down, managing to drop the woman behind cover as all the other civilians scream and run.

Nick gets a good look at the shape as they pop up again, darting toward the group of bandits either picking themselves up or stumbling for their fallen guns.

Tall, lithe, black bodysuit with armor pieces, elongated helmet with a black visor. The sword he’d never quite figured out how he stored flashed into being as they dove into the group with a snarl he could hear vibrate in all the wrong pitches. Zer0. What the fuck was Zer0 doing here on Gunsmoke and how the fuck did he get here!?

Pieces of guns go flying, along with bandits as Zer0 is let loose among them, far above the level of every day thug. Nicholas plays back-up, shooting guns out of hands fast enough to make even Vash proud until there’s only Zer0 left standing, hunched over in clear pain before he consciously straightens and steps onto the street again.

The woman he’d saved darts forward before Nick can, sobbing her gratitude to the clearly startled assassin. More people follow, so easily awed by the display of skill, including a group of kids who had clearly been snatched up by the bandits before Zer0 had gotten them out. Nick idly reloads his gun and wraps up his Punisher before shouldering it and stepping into the crowd, giving them time to crowd around and shout praises and thanks and Zer0 time to be forced out of fight mode. All the better to see him jump when he claps a hand on his shoulder, grinning like the devil and firmly ignoring the little warmth in his chest when Zer0 immediately makes a delighted, high-pitched noise.

“Hey now don’t crowd, I’d bet you anything this guy’s been working through the night to get everyone freed! Let ‘im rest huh?” He snorts as Zer0 all but slumps into him and people parted to let them get to the inn, which is more then happy to put Zer0 up for free.

When Nicholas gets him in a room he’s going to hit him, what the hell was Zer0 thinking following him here!?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Too bad Zer0 has another idea and turns to give Nick a tight hug as soon as the door is closed. They laugh at his put-upon sigh even as he returns the hug with enough force that they breathe in sharply for the pain in their side.

Of course he ruins it when he pulls back and shakes them hard, then eyes their injured side knowingly.

“What th’ fuck’re you doing out here, stupid!? Getting shot by kids! What th’ fuck’s wrong with you!? You should have stayed put!” Zer0 giggles, both exhausted and relieved, and pats Nick’s face.

“I had to follow. I would be a poor parent, if I did not come.” Nick scowls at them but there’s just that tiny hint of softness in his eyes that makes Zer0 reach up and ruffle his hair. They get an eye roll but he doesn’t drop them onto the bed, lets them down slow, so they know he’s not really annoyed. Performative, like he has anything to worry about with Zer0. Ah well, now they have time to work on those walls of his while they try to figure out how to actively help him.

“You shouldn’t have come out here. You know enough to know you should have stayed.” They shrug even as he glares at their side until they open up their suit jacket and show him their rushed patch job.

“As if I would stay. Need all the help you can get, and a new player. But, more suspicious, then I anticipated. Quite unfortunate.”

“What gave ya that idea, bein’ chased outta three towns before I caught wind of ya?” They droop and whine, just to see him have to attempt to hide a smile behind his scowl. Not that the scowl lasts.

“Dammit, okay, fine, you’re here obviously. I’m gonna assume I’m stuck with ya?” A bright, glowing :) is his only response but he snorts. “Great. Look forward to meetin’ Vash then, cause I know he knows I’m up t’ somethin’ out here. They’ll catch up way before I’m ready for em. Why’d you gotta get yourself involved, Zer0?” They click at him, reaching up to drag his forehead down to their visor.

“Any good parent, does not abandon their kid. Even if you left.” He wrinkles his nose though that soft look still hides there.

“Pain in my ass...” They laugh, knowing damn well they can’t ever be more of a pain then Vash the Stampede. At least now they’ll get a front row seat to the insanity.

They can’t wait.

[3dumb2potatoes1]

•High • School • Crush•

Pt.3 I hope this stops

•Pairing: Hyunjin x Female reader.•

•Genre: Classmates to friends.•

•Warnings: Crying, Swearing, Shouting, Bullying.•

•Word count: 1,320

•Note: Like last time, please tell me if I missed anything.•

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆

What the hell was this? There were rumours?! And not only that… IT WAS YOUR BESTIE WHO STARTED IT. You knew there was something up with her that day. You couldn't stop yourself from crying even harder. Your pillow was even more soaked now, and it was even harder now to fall asleep. Even worse was, that the rumour was about you and HYUNJIN dating. Your biggest crush. Why couldn't it have been someone else, instead of Hyunjin?

You finally fell asleep after about an hour of what felt like hell. Rumours were everywhere and you were getting so much hate, while the rumours were still spreading. More and more people heard about the rumour. “How could someone like her be with Hyunjin.” “Ew, it's the kid with no friends.” “OMG HER WITH HIM?! WTH” “No way Hyunjin chose her among every other girl in the school.” And there were many more comments about it, than just them.

You skipped a few days of school, cause you weren’t emotionally prepared for it. You planned on going back on Thursday just to see Hyunjin and see what he thought of the rumours. Texting him wouldn’t be the same as talking to him directly. Plus, seeing his beautiful face would make things just a bit better. All the days when you were at home, you hadn’t seen your family. Everyone distanced themselves from you, just like you did to them. The only times where you saw them were when you went to get food from the counter and take it to your room, when you had to use the bathroom, and when you needed something to drink, which you didn’t really have to get out a lot for, cause you had your water bottle on your bedside table which u could refill when you went to the bathroom. And going to the bathroom without seeing them wasn’t a huge problem, cause the bathroom was right across your room in the hallway.

The next day of school had come. You were so scared to go into the kitchen for breakfast and see your family. This had affected you more than it should have. When you entered the kitchen, all eyes were on you. Your moms, dads and little brother's eyes were on you only. Mom looked away while giving you a very disappointed look. “There, eat,” she said while trying to minimize the number of words she used. You couldn't really blame her. You understood why she was mad at you for “dating” someone and breaking her rules. But you still loved your mom, so you tried to keep it cool. Your brother was teasing you by making kissy lips to pretend like he was you and your “boyfriend.” Your dad wasn't really bothered, though he had never really been bothered about this type of stuff.

When you arrived at school, it was all like a nightmare. Everyone was in the halls whispering. All you could hear was you and Hyunjin. Many people were staring at you, making you walk faster towards your class with small tears in your eyes. Your eyes were glossy and there were small sniffs coming from you. It was so noticeable that people started laughing while saying hateful comments. “Get the loser to keep crying haha!!” “Oh look at the crybaby! She’s doing it again, crying!” “Why is she crying? She should be grateful she is finally getting attention,” Does she not want attention after deciding to date Hyunjin?” “Should’ve known what she got herself into.” Crybaby wasn’t as hurtful, cause you had been called that many times before by the bullies.

You finally made it to class. But even the class was weird. People had written and doodled all over your desk with another load of hate. Could this day get worse? Oh yeah, it could… Hyunjin was sitting at his desk with the same thing on his desk, and laying with his head on it like he was tired. Instead of girls everywhere around him trying to get his attention. People were in small groups in the corners away from him. Most boys stood around him and laughed at him with a few of the girls. As soon as they saw you walk in, the first thing you heard from one of the girls was, “Oh Hyunjin look! It’s your girlfriend!! Go give her a little kiss. HAHAHAHA!!!” While nudging Hyunjin. Hyunjin looked like he had just been crying too, just like you. You walked over to your desk like nothing had happened but still with a sad look. Hyunjin looked up at you with no emotion in his eyes. Not gonna lie it was a little hot, but right now felt like the wrong time to think that.

When the teacher entered the class, it was all chaos. The first thing the teacher did when he entered, was say “Hyunjin, Y/n. I would like to talk to you after the class.” Was it ok to feel this nervous when you knew exactly what it was about and you hadn’t done it? The teacher told everyone to get to their seats. While sitting down for a bit a girl starts throwing paper at you and Hyunjin. Both of you notice her but say nothing about it. At the third throw, you pick up the paper and attempt to throw them into the trash bin. You made sure to throw when the teacher wasn’t looking. But when you threw it, the teacher turned back to face everyone and saw you throwing it, thinking you were trying to hit someone. “Detention,” he shouted with no hesitation. “Wait, what?” You said so confused. “Don’t throw paper at other classmates. I saw what you tried to do.” He shouted while staring deep into your eyes till you moved. “She didn’t throw it! I did…” What? Hyunjin was trying to get you out of it, by saying it was him, and even throwing one of the pieces of paper at the girl. But it didn’t work. Instead, he gave both of you detention. “Nice try Hyunjin. But I’m gonna give you both detention now.”

No one except you and Hyunjin was in detention. While doing the things the principal made you do, “I’m sorry about what has happened,” suddenly came from Hyunjin. You didn’t know what to say until you started tearing up once again. Hyunjin noticed immediately and stopped what he was doing to help you. “Oh no! Why are you crying? Did I say something?” “No no no you didn’t it’s just these days have been so shitty because of the rumours.” You said while crying. “I’m so sorry.” Why was he apologising when none of this was his fault. Suddenly you felt like someone was hugging you. It was Hyunjin! You had always dreamt of at least hugging him, and now it was happening!! You just wanted to tell him why it was affecting you so much. That you had been in love with him for a long time and that’s why the rumours started. Clearly, you couldn’t say that cause you had pretty much just started hanging out. “fuck all this bullshit. You looked like you needed a hug.” That was so cute of him to say, and he was right too, you actually did need a hug from all this shit. “Is all this really this bad or is it just me?” You asked. “Being bullied, being laughed at, getting hateful comments and even having almost the whole school against us including the teachers? Yeah, it’s pretty bad I think.” He was right. “I just can’t help but cry almost every day.” Why did you say that, he would probably ask why. “I’m happy you finally came to school again, this happened the other days too just not as bad as this.” No way he just said that. “Are you serious?! Shiiiit…

I hope this ends.

The end

To be continued

Made by Potato 2

[amnotaqueen]

He Views Our Son As A Slave

My husband did some shopping after our meeting last Sunday. I and our son went with him into the store. As my husband shopped, he had our son holding the basket and was dropping items into the basket for our son to carry. I was mostly keeping to myself, just browsing without intending to buy anything. After a while, I decided to rejoin them. I saw that the basket my son was holding was pretty full. I went and lifted the basket to see how heavy it was. It was getting pretty heavy, heavy enough for a child to get tired with it for an extended period of time. My husband, by the way, was carrying nothing and was taking his sweet time. I picked up one end of the grocery basket to relieve my son a little bit. When he purchased the items and we were leaving the store. He gave both of the bags to our son to carry to our car while he himself carried nothing. I took one of the bags from my son to help him, as they were heavy.

His treatment may be a cultural thing, as I sense that children in Nigeria are made to serve older ones. They are made to perform mandatory greetings to older ones and are ordered to do things for the adults. While I believe it is good for children to have chores, do things around the house and for others, I do not believe that childhood should automatically require that they alone perform all laborious tasks for themselves and older ones. I do not believe children are slaves for adults. I say it is a cultural thing. I now strongly believe that Nigerian culture is narcissistic.

When we got home, he ordered our son, "Get the bags!" This is his behavior at home, not at the Kingdom Hall. When our group, which has men and women and kids are assigned to clean the Hall, we all chip in. Anyone can do anything to help out. Everybody is supposed to have a share if possible. The men sweep, mop, dust, vacuum, clean bathrooms, take out trash, etc along with the women and children. Children are not told to "Clean!", while the adults sit and kick up their heels waiting for the servant children to finish their task.

And at the kingdom hall cleanings, guess who is up and happily cleaning with everybody else like he has a humble servant heart? Yep... my husband. If he can help out at the kingdom hall, why can't he help out at home. Like, he has to order my son to do everything at home. He orders him to remove the shoes from his feet. He orders him to bring his flip flops. He orders him to bring his water and cup. He orders him to take his plate and wash it after he has eaten. He will ask him to do things he can't physically do. Like, I've heard him ask him to take out the trash.

He would have to physically lift a heavy, full garbage bag out of the trash can, carry it to the gate outside, and open the gate that is impossible for him to open by himself as the gate is off balance requiring it to be lifted at the same time the latch is slid to the side (I do it all the time and can struggle with it at times so I know our son can't do it alone), carry the bag over to the trash bin, open the top of the bin (it is VERY heavy, if he lifted it and accidently let it drop it could land on his head and cause SERIOUS injury), and lift the heavy trash bag up into the trash bin. My husband doesnt know about these things because in the time we have lived here, he has never taken out the trash. And nothing is serious to him or important except that all his needs be met. He asks him to do impossible, dangerous things.

And if for some reason he thinks our son is not moving fast enough or doing exactly what he has asked him to do, he doesn't try to figure out why our son might not be able to do it (like maybe he doesn't understand what he is asking, maybe he physically can't do it, maybe something else is legitimately preventing him from doing it). My husband immediately berates, insults, yells at, and threatens our son when he doesn't do something fast enough or to his father's liking.

[poolsafefencing]

4 Benefits of Scheduling Pool Fence Installation

Pool fences have been helpful to many homeowners to keep their pool area safe and secured. If people want to access the swimming space, they need to go through a fence that protects unauthorised entry to ensure the safety of everyone. If you have a pool at home and want to make it safe, consider pool fencing Sydney installation. Before getting the service you want, scheduling with the company is crucial to ensure you have a slot and they have enough people to accommodate your needs. Here are other benefits you can get:

Child Safety

If there is a schedule for the pool fence installation, you can keep your child safe. You do not need to worry about them because you know that they are not going anywhere. You can just keep them in one place until the job is over for the day. If you want them to not wander around the house while the installation is ongoing, you might want to ask a trusted family member to have the kids for the day. If they agree, it is good. But if not, here are some things you can do:

Plan Ahead

If you decide to have your kids at home even if there is pool fence installation going on, then the first thing you need to do is to plan. Think of what they would do if they could not go around the house. It will also help you schedule everything you need to do without compromising time with your kids. Yes, there could be some disruption to the routine of your children, so cope with them with proper planning of time and activities.

Communicate with the Installers

Let the fence installers know that there is the presence of a child, so be mindful when they do the job. Also, tell them that if a kid shows up, they need to call you so you can keep the safety of your child. Having the kids roaming around the pool can cause safety concerns and lessen the efficiency of the workers. 

Create a Safe Space

One of the things you need to include in the planning is creating a safe space for your child. You can use its room and put more things in there that you think they would need while the installation job is ongoing. They have something to think about when they get bored, keeping them away from the pool area.

Provide Entertainment

The entertainment you will provide your kids depends on their age. But if you want to go for the basic ones, try books and toys. Some children want to indulge themselves in gadgets, and you can consider that an option. Once they get tired, they will sleep on their own, so it lessens your worry.

Supervise Carefully

If your child is not distracted by the things they have in the room, you should supervise them more carefully. Be with them in the room most of the time without forgetting about the workers outside. If you take them in the project area, ensure that they will stay away from tools and equipment and the pool itself.

Pet Safety

Aside from kids, pets should also be taken care of. They also have a risk of drowning, so be mindful of them. Like kids, they can get easily distracted and curious about things happening around them. They might run around the pool area during the fence installation, making the workers distracted.

Peace of Mind

Scheduling the pool fence installation will give you peace of mind because you know that you have a secured slot in the schedule of the company. All you need to do now is to spend the day waiting for them and ensuring that everything will be good and within the given time frame.

Customisation Options

If you schedule your pool fence installation, you have enough time to think of customisation. There are options you can consider, but personalisation is also good. Before the schedule, you can tell the company your ideas and know if they accept.

Every service you will hire for your home needs scheduling. And when it comes to installing a pool fence, these are some of the benefits you could gain. Remember to contact the company first before the job to ensure everything is good and according to your plans.