#she doesn't decide who gets housing but i don't need her to look at all my documents and insurance times and former employers etc etc

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not putting a bell on my cat?

Cw for discussion of animal death and injury in vague terms.

So I live in a neighborhood with a lot of stray/outdoor cats. In fact, it's sorta that way all over the city. A few weeks ago as of writing this, I picked up a stray because I saw that it had an open wound on its neck; since it was amicable to being handled I decided to take it to the vet to be treated (and neutered, since I'd already gotten hold of it and obviously we don't need more strays.)

Recently, my cat of 15 years (we had him for 15 years, he was about 17-18 though) passed of old age, so I wasn't expecting my family to be willing to take a new cat in so soon. We even still have most of his stuff, so I figured it would be a matter of keeping the stray indoors until it was healed, then letting him go about his business. We all ended up getting attached over his two weeks of recovery though (if anyone is curious, it was a burst absess. While he was there we got him vaccinated and checked for other problems. Aside from ear mites, he was fine) so we got him a microchip, named him, and that was that.

My previous cat was also a rescue, though we picked him up from a shelter. At the time we also had a dog and a dog door, so keeping him inside would have been a logistical struggle we just... didn't care to bother with. By the time the dog passed, he'd had access to the outside for years and we saw no reason to suddenly cut him off from that. We obviously had to keep this new cat completely inside while his staples were in, but the plan was always to open up the dog door once he was healed and let him decide where he wanted to be. I don't like taking care of a litter box, my dad doesn't like the smell of cat, 3/4ths of the house is allergic (though that didn't stop us before), and this cat is much younger than our previous was, and has much more energy (vet estimated him at 6mo-1yr). At the beginning of last week (again, as of writing this) I got the go-ahead from the vet to let him outside and gladly did so. He hasn't gotten the hang of the dog door yet (our previous had the advantage of watching the dog go through to learn how to do it) but will go through open doors/windows and will return to the door or enter through the window if it's still open.

With context out of the way here comes the trouble: our neighbors. Our house is on the corner of the block and to our left is a house that takes tenants every so often. They've been here for as long as I (22m) have been alive and have been a nucance for probably longer than that. Their yard is atrocious, they planted bamboo that grew under the fence and into our property, and the woman who owns the house (presumably. Her husband might but I've never spoken to him) apparently has some moral issue with outdoor cats.

Sometime into owning our previous cat, she suddenly became very concerned with the bird population and insisted that we collar our cat and get him a bell so that he wouldn't catch birds. I'd like to point three things out: 1) our previous cat only had one eye, 2) we had tried to collar him before and he lost every single one so we gave up (breakaway collars so he didn't choke, 3) he caught birds despite both of these facts. Needless to say, I was not fucking thrilled about unsolicited advice from a woman I'd never spoken to, who let her unmitigated mess of invasive plants invade my garden, but whatever. She spoke to my little (10yro) sister about it at the time, only once, and never to me, so it wasn't an issue.

So I let this new cat out, right? I opened the dog door for him and he waltzed right on out, but I wasn't convinced he really knew how to operate it. About an hour or so without hearing him come in, I head through the back door to look for him. I got him from a different neighborhood, across town, while visiting a friend, so I figured I was allowed to be a little worried about him getting lost or overwhelmed. As soon as I step out onto the porch, the neighbor-lady calls over and asks me if my cat got out or I let it out.

I tell her I let him out. She asks me to put a bell on him. In an attempt to remain civil I ask her why. She says something about it being stupid, I ask her why it's stupid, she says cats eat birds and the bird populations are declining. I instantly want to call bull on cats being a leading reason of bird population decline, but I just tell her that I'll have to look that up, and ask her if she saw which way he went. (I'd like my restraint during this interaction noted, thanks.)

Anyway I don't find the cat but I get a good few patrols around the block, and eventually he comes back to the house sometime in the late-night early-morning. He does not use the dog door and waits for me to open the door instead (back door is on the way to the bathroom, I saw his stupid little face pressed against the glass when i went to piss).

I look up bird population decline articles. Most of them mention cats as a factor, along with clear windows. Primary factors are listed as deforestation and invasive species, pesticides, etc. I don't consider getting my cat a collar because I don't appreciate my neighbors input, especially when she's going to be hypocritical and ignore that planting native species may help bird population more than putting out fifty fucking feeders and complaining that the stray cats see her yard as a buffet. Anyway.

I let him out again yesterday, this time through the window in my room, which leads to the back porch. I felt comfortable leaving it open since I work at my desk and would hear if anything not-cat came inside. (Allergies were a problem, but I'd really rather he have a way to get inside if he wanted/needed, and he STILL will not open the dog door on his own. Obviously I'm not helping by continuing to give him alternatives but I am soft-hearted.) Sometime in the evening my dad comes in and tells me that when the cat next comes back, I should keep him inside because "The neighbor lady is being a bitch and I don't want to deal with it." I assume she said something to him, so I agree and when the cat comes in for the night I close the window.

This morning I saw what had ACTUALLY got him.in a twist, because not only did she say something but she printed out and taped a note to our door. Oh, how I would love to send a picture of it here, but I don't know how to embed photos in asks so you'll just have to deal with my transcription:

CAT FACTS

Cats kill birds. Cars kill cats.

Here's some links to look up.

[I won't type the links out. First one is an article titled "how long do outdoor cats live indoor vs outdoor cats" and the second is "faq cats and their effects on birds". I have not read either of these.]

Ask Kelly about Dixie. Ask Jean about Madeline - wait don't - she ran over her with her own car and broke her pelvis because the cat was older and couldn't hear well.

You have a very beautiful young cat. He deserves a safe loving home. Act like you care for your cat or give him to a home that will. I have four indoor cats - three are orange boys. I have a soft spot for orange boy cats. They are very happy as inside cats.

Be responsible.

[Handwritten at the bottom:]

Your cat is sleeping in my backyard. Why are you forcing him to be an outdoor cat!?

[End]

The amount of violent rage this fills me with is unreal. Kelly is our across-the-road neighbor, I assume Jean is another neighbor (I'm bad with names) and I CANNOT imagine that either of them appreciate being. Used like this. Also, I'm very glad her cats are happy indoors but this cat is not, he wants to go outside, he has been crowding the window all morning waiting for me to open it. (I respect me father so I won't, but I disrespect my neighbor so I really, REALLY fucking want to.)

So AITA for disregarding the safety/happiness of my cat and the decline of the bird population by not putting a collar on him and heartlessly forcing him outside? I'm no further inclined to force him indoors or get a collar, especially with her continued insistence, and in fact I'm so far making an active effort to restrain myself from going over and talking to her because I just want to turn it into an argument.

[vettelsvee]

AFTERGLOW | Mick Schumacher

f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram

mick schumacher x vettel!reader

summary: mick's girlfriend knows that something's wrong with him. after talking to her dad and her stepmother, she decides to face her boyfriend.

word count: 2956

warnings: angst. bad language. mick being aggressive. use of y/n.

you can send your one shots requests here! feedback, as well as comments and reblogs, are truly appreciated!

If Sebastian's retirement announcement had hurt you, the way you boyfriend had been acting towards you, for no apparent reason, hurt even more. 

You were on you father's terrace, with your legs stretched out on a chair in front of you and the sun shining on your face as you watched the latest news about Taylor Swift. Beside you, Hanna was tending to her baby, who was in her arms playing with a small plush toy you bought her that surprisingly become her favorite. Sebastian appeared out of nowhere carrying a tray full of snacks and drinks, which he carefully placed on the table before immediately caressing the heads of the women in his life. The German sat beside his wife facing you, his eldest daughter.

As much as you enjoyed visiting your family for no reason, today's visit had a reason with a name and surname: Mick Schumacher. Since both of you had finally decided to start a romantic relationship, everything had been a bed of roses. However, the past few weeks have been hell. The boy's behavior towards you had changed radically. What used to be a daily routine filled with laughter, gratitude and support had turned into distance and avoidance, as if they you college students living together during the school year because they had no other choice.

Before starting to speak, you poured yourself some lemonade that Vettel had made hours earlier with her, and took a slight sip despite being really thirsty. You felt nervous as you began to initiate the conversation, but the warm looks you father and stepmother were giving you helped you relax.

"I need to share something with you," you began, "because if I don't tell someone, I feel like I'm going to end everything I've fought for all this time. Plus, I feel like you're the ones who can help me the most in this regard," you added.

The couple exchanged curious looks, not knowing what you were referring to. Any idea passed through Hanna's mind, while the Aston Martin driver could only think of the possibility that his little one might be pregnant. Hanna could see the panic in her husband's face; she simply placed her free hand on the German's thigh and gently caressed it, trying to calm him down. They shouldn't jump to conclusions too quickly, and that seemed to be what his wife was telling him as she gave Sebastian a glance.

"I've noticed that Mick has been behaving very strangely lately," you began to explain. "I don't know what's going on in his head, but we hardly talk, we don't usually go out of the house like we used to and... well, let's say we don't show as much affection to each other anymore," you said apologetically, trying not to get angry at the laughter your father was making. "I feel like the Mick I've known all this time has been just a mirage, and I don't know what to do about it."

Sebastian and Hanna exchanged knowing looks, and the woman let him speak first.

"Y/N, I understand what you mean, but you have to know the pressure Mick faces daily," the blonde explained lovingly. "Formula 1 is like that: it doesn't just drag you, but also those you love the most. Your boyfriend has many eyes on him, and as if that weren't enough, he bears the responsibility of carrying on his father's legacy."

The older blonde agreed with her husband. She passed the little one to Seb, got up quickly and sat next to you,now cry out of frustration, and started to caress your hair lovingly as a comfort.

"Your father is right, Y/N, and I have to agree with him because I've been with him for almost twenty years," Hanna commented. "Every person has a completely different way of dealing with stress. Sebastian used to yell at me every time he breathed, and look," she pointed at him, "here we are. Some people open up to anyone they meet, and others shut themselves off to avoid worrying those they love the most," she stated. "Just because Mick isn't like he was a few weeks ago doesn't mean his feelings towards you have changed. Sometimes, they just need space and a little time to silence the demons in their heads."

You nodded, taking a sip from the glass you held in your hands to calm your nerves. You let out a sigh you had been holding in for quite some time, worried about the possible reaction the two in front of you might have. They continued to talk about more trivial matters, and that conversation, although short, had been very meaningful, was set aside, although not for the girl, who continued to torture herself wondering what she could do to make Mick feel better while listening to talk about baby care and nurseries.

"Thank you, dad. Thank you, Hanna," you replied, getting up from your seat and looking at the adults. "I guess I needed the advice of someone who might have gone through the same thing as I am right now," you objected. "I promise I'll do my best not to despair anymore. I'll let you know when I know more."

The couple got up shortly after you, already heading towards the door, possibly to return to the apartment you shared with Schumacher. Sebastian, still holding the baby, opened the door, unable to say anything else. Hanna, on the other hand, smiled warmly at you and gave you a hug.

"Remember, we're here for you, sweetheart," your father's wife said kindly. "Communication is key in any relationship. If you see that Mick is still not ready to talk about it, give him space, but don't forget to remind him that you're there for whatever he needs."

You nodded and left the residence, leaving the driver and his wife somewhat worried about what could happen between you two.

You opened the door to your home with trembling hands, feeling a pressure in your chest from the concern about the scene your eyes would encounter as soon as you entered.

The first thing that greeted you was the sound of hooves scratching the parquet floor, which soon grew louder as Angie approached rapidly to welcome you home again. You bent down, leaving your belongings aside, and took some time to caress your furry friend, whom you had grown fond of since the moment her owner introduced her to you. While admiring the way the animal's tail moved, you began to hear the running water from the shower, a sign that Mick was home, as you had hoped.

Sitting on the couch and staring at the TV, whose screen was filled with deceptive advertisements for food and clothing, you heard a door open and steps that seemed to be approaching you. You took a deep breath and prepared yourself for what was about to come when you saw her boyfriend walk past you, wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist, drying his hair with another smaller towel.

You decided that things couldn't go on like this, so you approached the boy more angrily than you thought, who was preparing dinner, obviously, just for himself.

"Yes, love, I had a great time with Seb and Hanna. Thanks for asking how my day went!" you shouted sarcastically.

Schumacher turned around, leaving the wooden spoon on the bowl in which his salad was being prepared. Your face was fully red, and your aggressive demeanor reminded him of Sebastian's moments of fury at Red Bull. The German looked at you coldly, and you only felt his blue eyes radiating hatred, something you had never seen in the boy before.

If you weren't up for games that night, neither was Mick.

"I don't care how your day went," the blue-eyed one responded disdainfully, "but if you had such a great time with your perfect family, maybe you should consider moving in with them."

The driver’s statement hurt you more than if you had been stabbed in the stomach. You couldn't believe the words coming out of the mouth of the one you considered the love of your life. When you opened your mouth to reply and yell a thousand worse things at him, the words got stuck in your throat. Schumacher made a move to leave, but you reluctantly took his hand to keep talking to him. For you, things weren't going to stay like this. 

"After everything we've been through to get here, is this how you're paying me back?!" you exploded, releasing all the anger you had accumulated. "Is this the way you planned to treat me from the beginning?"

The driver turned to you, his jaw tense. His arms were crossed, and he was squeezing his clenched fists tighter and tighter.

"I don't know what you're talking about, blondie," he spat with disdain. "If you feel so bad, maybe you should reconsider what this relationship means to you."

You approached him with fury, and began to hit him in the chest with your hands. You were tired of, at any point in your life, the people she loved the most ending up hurting her.

"You have no idea what you mean to me!" you got closer and closer to Mick, who seemed to feel small compared to you. "You became my everything when I had nothing, but now you've become a stranger with whom it would seem ridiculous to say that I've shared traumas from my life that no one knows."

"You have no right to judge me, Y/N!" roared the boy with a voice filled with aggression. "You don't know what I have to face every day: criticism, expectations, my father, you, the team..." He raised his hands in the air as he spoke. "Do you think it's easy being in this messed up world?"

"It's not just about you, Mick!" you exclaimed, tears starting to blur your vision. "It's about us and everything we've been through together!"

Words continued to fly in the room, laden with pain and anger, exchanged between the couple as if in a tennis match. You had reached a point where the argument wasn't focused on trying to resolve whatever was happening between you, but on hurting each other with hurtful comments, fighting to see who could inflict more damage.

"This makes no sense, Y/N," Mick shouted in frustration. His gaze was filled with panic and accumulated anger. He felt it increasingly difficult, at that point in the argument, to contain his rage.

"Love, please, calm down," your voice trembled. "We're not getting anywhere, just giving the neighbors a free show that we'll regret later," you pleaded.

Schumacher didn't relent. He felt a wave of helplessness washing over his body. He reached out his muscular arm and grabbed the first object he could find, a frame with a picture of him with you and Angie on a day you spent in the mountains, and threw it against the wall mercilessly. The sound of impact and shattering glass echoed throughout the room, accompanied by the sobs and gasps of air from the young woman.

You couldn't help but step back, feeling increasing pressure in your chest and filled with fear. You knew the boy was losing control of the situation, and you were afraid it would escalate to physical violence against you. You had experienced that kind of abuse with your mother, and you didn't want to relive it with the same person who once told you that love didn't hurt.

"Mick, stop, this isn't you!" you cried out in anguish. "What's wrong with you?"

The German clenched his fists tighter.

"I've already told you, Y/N: you don't understand! You can't possibly understand. The pressure, the expectations... it's all overwhelming," he sighed anxiously, "and I feel like it's going to break me at any moment."

You approached him slowly, but at a safe distance, in an attempt to calm him down that you hoped wouldn't be in vain.

"We're in this together, sweetheart. Why don't you confide in me instead of shouting at me like a madman in an asylum?"

"Because I don't want you involved in this," Mick looked at you with a mix of anger and pain. "You've had enough worries in your life already."

You went cold, speechless in response. The blonde seemed to have calmed down. Now, his gaze begged you to keep speaking because, if not, he would go crazy at any moment.

"Mick, I love you," you continued as best you could, "and that means I want to be there for you, even in the toughest moments. You can't expect me to walk away when you need me the most."

"It's not that simple, Y/N," the driver paced back and forth, seeking a way to remedy everything he had caused during those weeks of tormenting Gunther. "The pressure is overwhelming, and the comparisons with my father are becoming less bearable," he confessed. "People don't care how hard I try. They always end up making me feel like I’m not good enough."

The blonde took a deep breath, struggling to keep calm while seeing that the root of the problem was surfacing:

"And how do you expect our relationship to work if you shut yourself off? I can't guess what's going on in your head if you don't tell me," you said in a barely audible whisper.

"Because I don't want to be a burden to you!" he retorted. "I don't want you to see me as a failure."

Determined to end all the fuss, you took a step forward and, despite the boy's protests, ended up taking his hands and directing his gaze to yours.

"Mick, you're not a failure: you're human," you said. "Making more or fewer mistakes is completely normal, and I'm here to support you and make you see that," you expressed sincerely. "I don't care what people think or say about you. To me, you'll always be the best at what you do, and there won't be a comment that will change my mind."

He looked at you. Angie had clumsily approached the boy's leg, stroking him and causing him some tickles with her fur, something that made you laugh in that moment of tension.

"What do you want me to do, Y/N? How can I move forward with all this?",

Feeling her resistance beginning to dissipate, you rushed to give him a hug, something the boy didn't reject. You both had missed each other, and the gentle caresses you shared in that brief moment were proof of that.

"Start by trusting me. Share what worries you and what you're afraid of. You don't have to fight alone: you know I'm here for whatever you need."

Mick, with his eyes full of tears threatening to fall, held you tightly to his chest, trying not to hurt you.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he whispered with a trembling voice, "for everything. My contract with Haas... it's over. Gunther doesn't trust me for next year."

You quickly pulled away from Mick. You had been left in suspense, and your boyfriend's pale face had already given you many clues, such as why he had told you before the cooling of your relationship that he didn't want to continue racing, or how Seb's retirement didn't affect him as much as you had thought it would.

Mick had faced very painful and traumatic experiences, such as his father's accident. However, although his dismissal might seem less significant than the former, for his girlfriend, it was more serious because there was nothing worse than someone compromising your mental health, and that was exactly what Gunther Steiner had been doing to her guy.

You approached him with slow steps and hugged him once again.

"Darling..." you whispered, trying to sound as understanding as possible. "It's okay, alright? Gunther doesn't deserve you. Besides, I'm sure that when something bad ends, something better begins."

Schumacher collapsed into your arms, tears finally escaping from his eyes. The mask he had been wearing for all the previous weeks had finally shattered, revealing a vulnerable version of himself that he didn't want you to discover.

"I feel like a failure," the blonde sobbed with a choked tone due to the tears. "I've fought so hard, I've given everything I have even when I couldn't anymore... and it seems like it's never enough."

You hugged him tighter, tenderly, hearing the boy's quick heartbeats loud and clear.

"You're not a failure, Mick," you revealed to him. "You have so much talent and you can do great things, it's just that you started your career in a crappy team with even crappier treatment," the boy laughed, music to your ears. "This is just a bump in the road, and you and I are going to get through it together."

"I don't know what I'd do without you, love," Mick looked at you tenderly, mentally regretting his behavior over the past few weeks.

"I'll always be here for you, truly," you continued, gently stroking his cheek. "You're so much more than race results, and I won't stop telling you until you believe it, even when you get tired of hearing me say it so much!"

You ended up laughing heartily, initiated by Mick. Maybe you weren't the perfect duo in the eyes of others, but you were for yourselves and those who knew you best.

If the invisible string theory was real, you and Mick were proof of it. You could even say the same about the multiverse hypothesis: in this one, and in millions more, a stubborn blonde couple, no matter the problems you had to face, would end up together, whatever it took.

[holyhead-hufflepuff]

fred weasley x reader: unspoken words

fred weasley x reader

summary: "who knows what's in the future, but now I need you to know that I love you" - unspoken words, mxmtoon

words: 1900

warnings: none

author's note: i was going through my old works, and i honestly really proud of this. so REPOST. this is based off of mxmtoon's "unspoken words" and i hope i did this amazing song justice - gracie ♡♡

"Fred, stop it, I mean it," you cried, your hair tied back in two tight plaits. Your hand was wrapped around Fred's thin wrists as he pulled you through Diagon Alley, ignoring your cries and his mum's.

"Come on, y/n, it's not my fault you're just slow. George is keeping up just fine," Fred huffed, continuing to rush through the streets until they landed in front of Ollivander's. "I can't believe we get to go to Hogwarts. It's it, well-"

"Wicked," Fred and George said together, smirking at each other before pushing through the shop's front door.

"Fred. George. You can't just go running off," Mrs. Weasley screamed, slightly out of breath from trying to keep with the three eleven-year-olds. "Hello, Garrick, I'm afraid we'll be shopping second-hand again. We just don't have the galleons right now for two new wands."

"But, mum," Fred whined, crossing his hands over his chest as George just started at the small section of wands with worn boxes.

"I can pay for your guys' wands," you piped up, pulling out twenty-one galleons. Your mum had insisted you bring enough money to pay for the Weasley's wands as payment for housing you for the summer while she was off in Tasmania.

"Nevermind, we'll just take the used wands," Fred stated, pushing you aside to look at the second-hand wands.

"What's that supposed to mean?" you grumbled, tossing the galleons on the countertop. "You would rather have a second-hand wand then have one bought by me?"

"Good job, y/n. You got it on the first guess," Fred mocked, slowly clapping his hands.

"I hate you, Fred Weasley," you yelled, grabbing the galleons and storming out of the store.

You wrung your hands, nervous for the Order's newest mission, moving Harry Potter. It was bad enough that the wizard war was looming over your heads like a storm cloud, but now, you couldn't help but feel like something was going to go wrong.

"Okay, time to leave," you mumbled, slipping your favorite sneakers on and apparating to The Burrow.

"Y/N," you heard a familiar voice shout.

"Ginny," you shouted back, wrapping your arms around the petite girl. "Are you going on the mission tonight?"

"Are you kidding me? Mum will hardly let me out of the house," Ginny chuckled, wrapping an arm around you and leading you into the Burrow. "I can't believe Fred and George are letting you go on the mission, especially Fred."

You rolled your eyes at the redhead's wiggling eyebrows. "Sod off, Ginny. We all know that I am a strong, independent person that doesn't need to ginger twins deciding what I can and cannot do," you replied, the words almost verbatim to what you had told Fred when he told you to stay with Molly at the Burrow.

"Hey! I'm a ginger, too," Ginny exclaimed, placing a hand over her chest. "You wound me, did you know that?"

"Yeah, whatever, miss melodramatic. I'm going to put my jacket up in Fred and George's room," you announced, hurrying up the stairs and into the familiar room that smelled still smelled like smoke and candy.

You shrugged off your overcoat, tossing it on Fred's bed, and looked around the room. Everything was exactly the same as it was when you two were kids, bringing back memories of growing up with him.

"Y/N, you can't tell me you're actually thought Bulargia would win," Fred shouted from his side of the tent as you pulled your Bulgaria jersey off. "I thought you had better taste than that, but then again, you're dating Roger Davies."

"Screw you, Fred," you bit back, unsure whether or not to tell him that Roger had dumped you over the summer to try and get with Alicia Spinnet. "And, just so you know, Roger and I are, well, no longer together."

"Finally got tired of sloppy seconds, Cedric's to be precise?" Fred teased, grabbing your wrist and pulling you onto his bunk bed.

"You're a pig, Fred," you growled, leaning against the flat pillows. "Hurry up, now, I want to go out and see how the Irish are celebrating. Maybe we can even convince them to give up some firewhiskey."

"Tsk tsk, illegal underage drinking? Not perfect y/n," Fred chuckled, moving out of the way of your attempt to kick him. "Too slow- I guess that's what happens when you shag a loser like Roger Davies."

"Go to hell," you hissed, your red turning bright red. "I'll just go without you, and not that's it's your business, but I never slept with him."

You stormed out of the tent, pushing past George, who attempted to grab your wrist.

"Y/N, The Order is here," Ginny shouted, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You hurried down the wooden steps, your eyes immediately meeting with Fred's. "Hey," you breathed, running up to the redhead. "Merlin, I've hardly seen you two, and you, Fred Weasley, didn't write back after that mission. I really ought to smack you, but I'm honestly just glad you're okay."

"Wow, George, it's great to see you, too! How were you after the mission? Good? Oh, I'm so glad," George mocked in a high pitched voice.

"I'm sorry, George, the drama queen, how are you?" you asked, turning away from Fred to look at George.

"Oh, you know, disgust by your outward display of kindness to the lesser twin," George replied, but your eyes were already back on Fred.

"What happened to your cheek?" You asked, running your fingers over a faint scar. "It looks like it hurt."

"I'm fine, y/n, especially knowing that you aren't going tonight," Fred grinned. "They only need twelve 'Potters', and they want you back here, in case someone needs healing."

"But-"

"Nope, they aren't budging on the idea, and neither am I. Anyway, we're going to be off once Bill and Fleur arrive," Fred stated, brushing off your concerned look. "Oh, there they are now. I guess I better get outside with the rest of The Order, and before mum fusses over me."

You bit the bottom of your lip, the taste of blood filling your mouth. "Be safe, Freddie. I swear that I'll kill you if you don't come back to me."

"I'll be safe," Fred whispered, brushing a piece of your hair back. "I swear that I'll come back to you."

You watched Fred walk out of the door, a crushing feeling washing over you. "Please have them all return safely," you said to no one in particular, hoping that some force of nature or faith heard you. You walked into the kitchen, where Arthur was talking to Molly, and George was promising to return to Ginny. You sat down in your chair, letting memories sweep you away from the world of worries.

"How was I supposed to know that you needed a personalized goodbye," Fred argued, using his wand to paint another layer of coat on the store's walls.

"Because we're best friends, Fred. You didn't even say goodbye. You left- you just left me alone," You shouted back, flicking your wand to paint your side of the room. "You just flew away on your stupid broom and left me alone. I would've come in a heartbeat."

"I know that- do you not think I don't know anything about you? You are the most brilliant person I know, and I couldn't just take you away. You had to take your N.E.W.Ts. I didn't want you to give up your education for a shop that wasn't your dream," Fred snapped. "I wanted to ask you, and so did George. But, I told him we couldn't sweep you away just because we didn't want to miss you."

You paused, his words sinking in. "I-I didn't- I'm sorry," you relented, setting down your wand and wrapping the redhead into a hug. Then, as if it were magic, Fred returned the hug and elicited butterflies in your stomach.

You didn't need to question the feeling- you knew you were in love.

"Y/N, it's George," a voice screamed, causing you to jump off your kitchen chair and run into the living room where George was lying limply on the couch.

"Shh, George. It'll be okay," you mumbled over and over again, pulling out your wand and murmuring incantations over his body. "Shhh, George, don't cry. I'll stop the pain, I promise."

You worked on his ear and mumbled all of the spells you knew that would act as a nerve block. Finally, what felt like eternities later, George was sleeping peacefully.

"Thank you," Fred spoke up, sitting next to you. "I don't know what would've happened without you here."

"I couldn't save the skin around his ear- it was ridden with dark magic. I had to cut it off, and now, he won't be able to properly hear out of that ear. Oh, God, Fred, why is this happening to us? We're kids," you sniffled, feeling Fred wrap his arms around you and pull you into his chest. "Time is just fading away, and we don't even know anything about the future."

"You were brilliant," Fred mumbled into your ear, hugging you tighter as if you were going to disappear if he didn't. "Y/N, and I need to tell you something-"

"I love you," you blurted, pulling away from his chest. "I should've said it sooner, but now, I need you to know that I love you. You don't need to say it back, but I need you to know."

"I love you, too," Fred breathed, not entirely sure if he heard what he wanted to or if you actually said you loved him. "God, y/n, I've loved you since you offered to buy my wand in Ollivanders- Since you nearly fell over the balcony because you were so swept away with the Quidditch World Cup. I've been in love with you since the moment I met you."

"Freddie, we met when we were like four years old," You laughed, tears starting to run down your face.

"I know- why do you think that I shoved your face into a mud pie," Fred chuckled, wiping your tears off with his palm. "I didn't know how else to say I loved you."

"I love you, Fred Weasley. I don't know what the hell will happen to us, but I'm just glad we'll do it together," you admitted, pulling Fred in for a kiss.

"Ah, my plan worked," a voice weakly said, causing the two of you to break apart and look at George. "Get my ear blown off? Check. Lose a bunch of blood? Check. Cause my best friend and my twin have an existential crisis? Check. Have them finally admit they're in love? Check."

You could help but laugh, filling the room with a sound that almost seemed unfamiliar. "Thanks, George, we couldn't have admitted it without you," you joked, playing along with the redhead.

"I know- although, I wish it hadn't taken years of sexual tension between you two and my ear to come off," George grinned, laying his head back down.

"Eh, I kind of enjoyed the sexual tension," Fred joked, "it really built-up this moment."

"Shut up, and kiss me," you smiled, grabbing the front of his shirt and bringing his lips against yours. 

[tielis]

you look like an angel - Yandere!Columbina x reader

Melissa's : I don't like toxic relationships or yandere character, Still, I feel a slight yandere in Colombina, I mean, she's a jealous woman who definitely won't show it, And yes, definitely yandere. It won't actually cause you major physical harm but... she may still hurt you so she doesn't lose you... use translate, so I may miss mistakes from time to time...

Synopsis : You got tired of Columbina's jealous attitude and wanted to leave, so as a result... He gave you a small punishment

Warning(?): Nothing.

Columbina's voice echoed through the halls, you were sure you were getting closer to the room she was holding you in. Columbina was gentle and affectionate when you two first met, yet she became more jealous as time went on.

Her once 'cute' words were now like a knife (even though the tone of voice was the same) and you ended up fighting, just yelling ... No, columbina was calm, you were angry.

'Hm... Yes, but you are very close with Arlecchino' Columbina mumbled as if she wasn't listening to what you were saying. You frowned 'You introduced her to me!' Columbina went silent for a few seconds

'I wish I don't.' You sigh 'She's just a good woman-' she interrupts you 'Arlecchino? she's not a good person... She's just 'respectful' to you.' You rolled your eyes at the words.

This wasn't the first time and it wasn't the last. Two days ago, she was jealous of another harbinger named Childe flirting with you. 'I don't even like men!' Her subordinates backed away slightly as your angry voice echoed through the you two's bedroom

'Yes, but what if you start?' she said calmly, 'columbina don't talk nonsense-' columbina interrupted you like you always did 'stay in this room for two days, food will be provided but you're all alone thinking about what a bad lover you are... I hope I don't have to hurt you...' the last part was whispered. She said to herself in a low voice, her subordinates closed and locked the door on Columbina's orders.

Two days had passed, columbina opened the door 'Hi, have you thought about it?' she said calmly 'Yes, our relationship is shit! You know what, it's over!' You walked to the door to leave the room but she grabbed your wrist.

'you can't think properly - calm down' There was no sadness in her voice, let alone anger... There was no emotion, just calm, nothing else. 'I thought it through properly and my life is fine without you-'

But there was one thing you always ignored, she is a harbinger, she has the physical strength even if she doesn't want it, she pushed you in easily. 'You need to rest a little more... I suggest they buy you dessert... You're so aggressive... At this rate I'll have to hurt you.'

She held your throat tightly, her expression was calm even though she wasn't smiling, you were having trouble breathing but she suddenly let go of your throat 'but, if you really want to break up... I won't force you.'

She let you go, and even though you were nervous, you felt like you were hit on the head with something hard as you walked out the door of the house.

When you opened your eyes, you were in the room. Columbina was looking at a map while muttering something, 'What happened-' Columbina interrupted you, 'You tried to reach something from the top of the cabinet, but you were not tall enough, as a result, you used the nightstand as support, but you slipped and fell and hit your head.'

After explaining, she turned to you, 'You won't remember the last 4 months, but it's okay... I decided that we should take a trip together for you, to Sumeru, then to Fontaine, then maybe to Mondstadt to make it good for you,' she kissed you when she finished speaking.

What they said was a lie. She made you lose your memory, this was her plan B when she locked you in the room after the fight, if you wanted to leave she would make you lose your memory. All to avoid losing you.

So...she can continue being the 'good girlfriend'. And you love her...

[rosedragonblast]

This bitch makes me go from Asexual to Doubtsexual, so here is my take about how, imo, Melinoe and Zagreus can properly meet each other.

Hades sits upon his throne, finally feeling a bit of relief. His heart beating slowly, tension disappearing into the air. There is still a lot to be done, a lot of things to be put in place.

Some of the gods are still trapped, unable to break free of the chains which Chronos and his minions casted upon the realm. But, even so. With much arrogance, the Titan stated that his chains are not to be broken by any godly creature. Yet, Melinoe found a way. Her stubbornness, combined with wit, sharp mind and compassion promised to bring a beam of light into this dark world in it's worst times.

House of Hades stands strong still, among the demon spawn who try to brake in, desperate to free their master. In the dark depths of the Underworld itself, somewhere where only Chaos may reach, stands a prison, which now serves as a permanent place of rest for the Titan of Time himself. Chronos screams into the void, but only turning it to the music of victory for one young goddess.

She stares into the darkness. Not scared, joyous or sad. Tired, but satisfied. Her purpose, her life-long dream of vengeance. Finally coming true before her own eyes, by her own hand. A feeling, sweeter than anything nectar could provide, lingers on the tongue. It's not how Melinoe imagined it, but she can't complain. If the fates so decided, it's not her place to argue about the taste of her triumph.

The goddess stretches herself, rubbing her hand and turning around. Coming out of the pits of the Underworld, feeling a hard floor under her burning feet, Mel lets herself adjust again, before making a few steps forward.

Hades, already deep in his work, notices his daughter. He feels her more than sees her. Turning his head, the God of the Dead looks at her with a hint of soft expression.

— Are you feeling well, Melinoe?

— I'm quite well, father. Just...Tired, i suppose. There is still a lot of blood of the Surface running through those veins. I need to adjust, heal. But all will be fine, I know it. Nothing shall stop me from completing my quest.

— Don't rush, daughter, — Hades sighs, his face shifting into slight concern. — You shouldn't go at it alone. Now, that you have support of the House, of Hekate and your associates, you shall lean more into their help. I think they'll be happy to oblige.

— I think I shall choose my own path in regards to finishing off Chronos' forces. But, thank you for the concern, father. I really should let myself breathe out for a bit.

Hades puts his hands against the table. Melinoe adjusts her hair, going further into the House. Something always rings, sounds and bangs in here. Souls moving along, some of the workers getting head first into their work. Melinoe goes out of the way, going towards the river Stix.

A pair of green and red eyes look at her from the reflection. Mel leans into the railing, as if trying to ask something of the red water. She listens. And it answers.

Hearing a faint whisper, guiding her up the stream, Melinoe hesitates. Another one of Chronos' tricks? Doesn't seem like it. The titan shouldn't have such an influence on the realm to affect the waters of the Stix to such an extent. Thinking for just a bit, Mel braces herself, closes her eyes and lets her body fall into the water.

Hearing distant gasps, the princess looks around. If feels...Like home. The water doesn't reject. It embraces, with all the arms of the dead swimming through. Melinoe holds her breath, trying to hear the whisper again.

It catches up to her. Louring her away. Feeling like she has to catch a breath, the goddess sees something familiar. A figure frozen in time. It holds up a sword, as if it's trying to fight an unseen foe. Opening her eyes wider, Mel reaches out. Further and further in, the water becomes thicker. It almost stops, barely holding on. Melinoe makes a final effort to grab the silhouette, her fingers holding onto their clothes.

Suddenly feeling herself being pulled up, Melinoe swings the frozen body into her arms.

Stix spits them out in a flash, with goddess gasping for air and coughing out the red liquid. Catching her breath, Mel sits up, trying to fill her lungs with the much needed cold air of the Underworld. Turning around, taking in another breath, she opens her eyes even wider, flapping her wet eyelashes.

Zagreus, laying on his back, stares into the seeling, as if he's trying to understand if it's another part of his endless dream. Melinoe goes closer, leaning over the god of blood. Zag rubs his eyes open, seeing a mirrored pair of red and green. Mel gifts him with a very soft smile, knowing exactly who she's staring at.

— Who is this water-drenched goddess, if I may ask?

— Your little sister, I suppose.

— You seem a little too big to be a little sister.

Melinoe laughs. She smiles just like their mother does. Zag pauses for a second, seeing Mel's beautiful, relaxed face surrounded by lights, created by fire lamps.

— Silly.

Mel leans closer, leaving a gentle kiss on her older brother's forehead.

[esyra]

After the hospital bombing, I finally heard back from my grandmother and confirmed that several of my relatives were murdered by Israeli bombing. Seven of them, to be precise. Three are still going, including her. We've been talking constantly ever since.

Asked if it was possible to head south, and was told they did but were also bombed there. So they decided to go back home, in Zeitoun. Their home was bombed and they were pulled out of the rumble, then driven by ambulances to the al-Ahli Arab Hospital. There were people in every corner. Gazans sheltering, sleeping on the floor. Gazans dying on the floor, waiting for beds.

Four were declared dead on arrival, three were in need of surgery and other three were just bandaged. Then, a bomb was dropped in the parking lot that made parts of the ceiling collapse, like Dr. Ghassan Abu Sittah reported in that horrific conference/interview. Those in need of surgery died.

By the way, just in case you didn't know: the Church of Saint Porphyrius, the third oldest in history, bombed by Israel a few days back, was located near the hospital.

When looking for new shelter, they saw schools with signs hanging outside, "We can't take any more families." They met families, sympathetic but already sheltering too many people. They're now staying in an apartment building they found empty. Sleeping in the corner of the living room. If the family comes back, they'll apologize and leave.

Told me she was saving her phone battery for when the bombing stopped, and she had to ask for help to rebuilt the neighborhood. But she doesn't think it's gonna stop anymore. The ones still with her are mute most of the time, like they're saving energy, but she feels lonely and wanted to talk. There's no internet and to connect to WhatsApp, people are buying "a card from the supermarket, there's a password and username." Not sure what she meant. Still, the internet is inconsistent and won't load neither videos or images nor pages, so she doesn't know what's happening on the outside world.

Told her there were a lot of people protesting to stop the genocide, she replied, "The bombings are getting worse by the day." The bombing yesterday was the worst she ever witnessed. The entire neighborhood is infested with the smell of death, of decomposing bodies. Bodies are piling up in the streets and she's not sure if it's because they ran out of places to store them, but most of them are in bags. The smoke of the bombings hide the blue sky—she hasn't seen the clouds for a while.

Asked if I could share their pictures, names and dreams with people and was told, of which I partly agree, "they're not entertainment." If anyone genuinely cared, they would be alive—I'd argue there are people who do care, but I'm not gonna lecture her pain. And they don't deserve to be used to fulfill someone's sick fantasy. Told me to remember what some Israelis do with pictures of dead Palestinians. And I do.

For those of you who are not familiar, many times before settlers got together to celebrate the murder of Palestinians. For one, in 2015, Israeli settlers set a house in Duma, West Bank on fire. An 18-month old baby, Ali Dawbsheh, was burnt alive. Both parents later died of wounds and only a 5-year-old, Ahmad, survived, although severely injured.

Two celebrations of their murder are widely known, one at a wedding and others outside the court in which two were indicted for the terrorist attack. In the wedding, guests stabbed a photo of the toddler, Ali, while others waved guns, knives and Molotov cocktails. Israel's Minister of National Security, Itamar Ben-Gvir, was present.

That's what happens in an apartheid. Palestinians are so abused by authorities that their "innocent civilians" come to accept the brutality as necessary or are desensitized by our suffering. After all, it's been 75 years—get used to it!

So I won't risk the image of my loved ones, in fear they are used in these kinds of depravity. I will say, though, the world lost a young footballer. Lost a female writer and an aspiring ballerina. Lost a kind father, who was also a great cook, and a loving mother that enjoyed sewing and other types of handicraft art. Lost a math teacher and a child that wanted to become one.

People think Israel is testing new weapons on them. There's civilians arriving at the hospital with severe burns, which they thought was from white phosphorus, but apparently the pattern is different from the one caused by white phosphorus. It's widely believed Israel tests weapons in Palestinians.

Jeff Halper, author of War Against the People, a book on Israel's arms and surveillance technology industries, said: "Israel has kept the occupation because it's a laboratory for weapons."

They've ran out of drinkable water and the "aid" Biden sent was only for the South of Gaza and no fuel, for hospitals, was allowed in. Many shelves in the supermarket are empty. She said many are convinced that if they don't die from the bombing, they'll die from starvation or dehydration, or whatever disease will develop from the dirty water they're drinking.

Told me all people do now is pray, cry and die. Told me she hopes West Bank is spared. Told her Israel bombed a mosque in West Bank and dozens of Palestinians in West Bank are being murdered by settlers, so she bided me goodbye.

[confessedlyfannish]

Writing Prompt #11

It's an innocent ("please," Jason sneers, "there's nothing innocent about a plagiaristic propaganda machine encouraging minors to dance for sick ol' pervs while it spews misogynistic hate speech.'"

"okay, boomer,"

"the fuck did you just call me, replacement?") TikTok, one of those ones that kind of simmers in the background for a few weeks until someone with a decent enough following posts it on the Platform Formerly Known as Twitter and from there it seriously catches traction, blowing up until Tim knocks on Bruce's office door, phone in hand. Damian stands behind him, arms crossed and clearly simmering.

Bruce, fresh off a series of zoom conferences, raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, so you haven't seen it," Tim decides, striding forward.

Bruce's eyebrow jumps a smidge higher, on the edge of concern, as Tim thrusts his phone into his grasp.

"So," he begins, reaching over to refresh the mobile page "there's a video that's been making the rounds on Twitter and—well you should probably see it," He sighs over Damian's scoff as he clicks through the pop-up asking him to sign in or join TikTok, and presses "Watch Again", unmuting the video.

🎶 "Doo, badoo-badoo-badoo Badoo-badoo-badoo-badoo,"🎶 an upbeat background song hums as someone, presumably a student, films a school hallway with their phone. They walk past students talking near their lockers, some of whom flash peace signs and silly grins as the camera swings their way before continuing on.

But the main point Bruce gets stuck on is the all lowercase white text at the center of the screen that an automated woman's voice awkwardly narrates:

"when you go to school with bruce wayne's other long lost lovechild"

The student filming comes up behind a much taller student who faces away from him, in conversation with a black haired pale teenaged girl. She spots the cameraman and shoots him a confused, disgruntled look, saying something to the boy who then turns around.

Bruce quietly observes as the camera zooms in on a boy around Tim's page, possibly older. Tall and broad-shouldered, with a strong jaw, he raises an eyebrow at the one filming, looking beyond the camera, pitch black hair with blue undertones falling into his blue eyes. The camera momentarily zooms too far into those eyes then abruptly pulls back as he quirks a puzzled smile at the viewer, mouthing out an easily understandable "hi?".

The TikTok ends and seamlessly transitions to a person balancing their cat on an exercise ball with minimal success and this time Bruce presses the Watch Again button. The heart on the right side claims 750k likes.

Damian scoffs, louder, as it ends. "Clearly it is a hoax, but it has been popular among my classmates."

"The board hasn't made much noise about it—" Tim starts.

"And they won't," Bruce says, lifting his eyes from his phone. "Wayne Industries doesn't give statements on videos like these, no matter how viral they become. I've been getting lovechild claims since before I adopted Dick."

Which Tim knows, which is why his insistence on showing Bruce this one raises his hackles. He pins Tim down with a stare and despite Tim's perfected PR mask, he can see Tim is unsettled.

"B...he really, really looks like you." Tim admits. Damian scoffs for a third time and Tim shoots him a glare, "I get it, you don't see it, but you haven't seen the pictures of Bruce when he was younger."

"I don't need to!" Damian says angrily. "You're all being ridiculous!"

"All?" Bruce asks. Tim shifts awkwardly. "The family group chat has been talking," he says.

"I see," Bruce says. Because he does. Many claim Damian to be his doppelganger, but the boy actually favors Talia not just in skin tone but in the shape and color of his eyes, as well as the soft slope of her mouth and ears. Whether those features will sharpen once he goes through puberty is anyone's guess.

But this young man has Bruce's eyes. Martha's eyes.

That night they have a suspiciously full house for dinner, with even Jason dropping in, but no one says anything until Barbara wheels in for dessert, carrying a manila folder on her lap.

"What?" she says, when everyone stares. "Dick told me it was crème brûlée today!"

Bruce extends a hand wordlessly, and Barbara sheepishly hands the folder over.

"Bruce," she says, before he can open it, "I wouldn't have looked into this normally, but,"

"Just say it," Jason says, leaning back in his chair. "Take away the gray hairs, the receding hairline, and the wrinkles and the kid's a dead match."

"Take it back, Todd," Damian growls, "Father has a very full head of hair!"

"Not to mention a failed track record at keeping it in his pants, Exhibit A," Jason continues, pointing a fork at Damian, "oh wait," he says gleefully, "kid is definitely 18, so I guess that would make you Exhibit B!"

The table erupts, cutlery tinkling as Damian gets a knee up on the table to hurl himself at a cackling Todd, Dick jumping up to grab him as the others lean out of the way—

"Ahem!" Everyone stops cold as Alfred stands in the doorway, porcelain ramekins of crème brûlée stacked perfectly on a silver tray. Under his gaze, everyone sits back down, Damian and Jason both quietly uttering a "Sorry Alfie/Alfred," as they straighten up.

Bruce is oblivious to the chaos, Barbara biting her lip beside him as he stares blankly inside the folder at the printed copy of an adoption certificate.

Two days and several million likes later, another TikTok goes viral from the same user. Caught in the moment as whoever is filming runs up to the group, the same young man is chatting with a blonde in a red letterman jacket, a partially formed crowd around them. Even with one leg still in the cafeteria table, he towers over everyone.

"—sh. Look, we're all possibly Bruce Wayne's son!" the boy snarks. He has his hands out, palms up as if he's making a great point, and as he looks around he catches sight of the cameraman and his smirk drops.

"Ah Mac, c'mon dude not again—" and the TikTok ends.

[thevoidstaredback]

Okay, so, crisis averted. Both of them, really. Red Robin had not asked or attempted to get any more of Danny's drink and the World Ending Crisis was less World Ending and more World Threatening. Either way, no one is hyped up in lethal amounts of caffeine and the world is in no more pieces than it had been before.

That brings attention to a new problem, though. It's uniquely Danny's problem and Constantine and Zatanna and Deadman won't stop laughing at him. He's also pretty sure that Raven is laughing at him in the privacy of her mind, so that's making him feel worse.

The problem is that every single hero that had been at the meeting a week ago that was not a part of the JLD has been overly concerned about him.

So what if he half died when he was fourteen and therefore will never look over either fourteen or eighteen? So what if he consumes enough caffeine to kill an elephant within a few minutes? What is he gonna do, die? That's not a real threat as long as he only fights as Phantom.

Ignoring the fact that he can, in fact, get hurt to the point of near death as Phantom. It's not like anyone knows that, though! Besides, ghosts run on god rules. They can't die, only fade when forgotten. People aren't likely to forget about most ghosts, though, even if they can't remember their names.

He's not gonna share that, though. Let Batman keep his contingency that won't work because the only contingency that will work for Phantom is the one he made himself. Tried and tested! He's marked it off of his Bingo Card.

Anyway. Heros and their kids/proteges have been trying to track him down for the entire week. He can't risk even leaving the House of Mysteries because the Supers are all probably listening out for him and they can't hear him through magic. It sucks. He just wants to go get a cup of coffee as Danny. The second he leaves, though, the Supers will be on him like bloodhounds. He'd leave as Danny, but the rest of the JLD don't know what he looks like as Danny and he'd like to keep it that way, thank you very much. Being stuck as Phantom was going to start causing issues to his human half if he doesn't get to leave soon.

Should he risk it? Is coffee that won't kill him really worth risking the Supers finding out his civilian identity? Sure, they wouldn't tell anyone, but he didn't like the idea of someone being able to pick him out of a crowd when all he wanted to do was blend in. It's why he avoided Gotham and Bludhaven, actually, but that's both self explanatory and another story for another time.

"You're still here?" Zatanna sat on the couch beside him. "You're normally gone by now. You can't not be tired of us yet."

He sighed and sunk down into the couch slightly. "Believe me, I'm tired of being stuck here, but I can't leave. I can't leave as a human because you guys don't know what I look like and, no offense, but I'd like to keep it that way. I can't leave as I am now because Superman will be on my ass quicker than I can blink!" He whined this time, "I just want a cup of coffee."

"What about your special brew?" Raven asked, coming into the room.

"I want to drink coffee as a human. That stuff will kill me if I drink it as a human."

"At least you know your limits."

"That sounded like a dig at someone, Z."

"It was."

"Why don't you just go out under a protection spell?" Raven offered, "We could cast one over you and you could leave. Superman can't hear through magic, so he won't be able to tell. Neither will Superboy."

Danny thought for a second. "You're a genius, Raven! Has anyone ever told you that?"

"A few times," she blushed.

"Well, it needs to be said more!"

Zatanna laughed. "Alright, kid, let's get you outside before you drive yourself crazy."

Practically vibrating in place, Danny waited for the protection spell to settle over him. The second it did, he was out the door and wandering the streets of whatever city the House of Mysteries decided to drop him as Danny instead of Phantom.

"Who are you," was not the question or voice he wanted to hear the second he stepped into the open as himself.

"Danny," he squeaked out through his absolute panic. He didn't dare turn around.

The sound of fabric moving minutely clues him in to the second person behind him. What the hell were these two doing out? It's the middle of the day and there's no attacks going on anywhere in Gotham!

"Where did you come from?" Robin asked.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! This was really bad! Why did the House drop him *here* of all places? Does it *want* him to die again? It was very painful the first time, thank you very much! "Illinois?"

"Was that a question or an answer?" Why is Red Robin here now?!

"An-an answer?"

"Ah, you guys are scaring the little guy!" That was Nightwing. They're surrounding him! Why is Nightwing here? This is Gotham, not Bludhaven. "Give him some room to breathe."

They did not, in fact, give him room to breathe. Maybe coming outside was a bad idea. If he gets out of this no more dead than he already was, he was going to move to the middle of nowhere and become a hermit. Smallville is a town in the middle of nowhere, right? He'll retire as Phantom and move to Smallville until the people get suspicious and burn him as a witch-!

Maybe moving to a big city would be a better idea. Or locking himself in the basement of the House of Mysteries. Yeah, yeah that's a good idea.

"-even listening?"

Oh shit. They were still talking to him! Now is not the time to panic! "Gottagobye!" And then he was running.

Good job not panicking, Danny.

Part 1 Part 3

[biteofcherry]

Does mafia!Steve's Reader ever get jealous? Maybe there's a businesswoman or mafia related one that Steve has to have meetings with and reader gets jealous?

Nesting

Not an inch away

mafia!Steve Rogers x female reader

warnings for the part below: some angst; soft!dark Steve Rogers; mafia!Steve Rogers; possessive behavior; arranged/forced relationship;

~ * ~

You shouldn't care. You really shouldn't, you tell yourself as you watch Steve open the restaurant door for that other woman to enter.

A woman that looks stunning in a body-clinging white dress and killer heels, not a single thing out of place in her confident persona.

She tilts her head and smiles at Steve, who reciprocates with one of his most charming smiles - one that gets you weak in the knees when he flashes it at you.

He told you he'd be home late because he has boring business meetings to attend to, so you talked your bodyguards slash enablers - Natasha and Yelena - to go to the movies and for some greasy food afterwards.

It's pure coincidence that the spot you picked for your snacking was opposite of a fancy restaurant to which Steve took this woman.

You know plenty of women have successful businesses, but you don't think a mob boss of Steve's caliber would actually do any business with one of them. In a romantic restaurant at that.

Natasha's face is perfectly impassive at the sight, but Yelena cringes as if she feels bad for you for seeing this.

You tell yourself that it shouldn't matter. This whole arrangement, one practically forced upon you after Steve found out about your pregnancy, is one you wanted out of at first, right?

The elegant, shiny ring on your finger, which you grew to love and often looked at with a fond smile, now reminded you of the cage Steve trapped you in. Gold, pretty cage.

With how intense and dotting Steve was, you actually believed the cage could become a warm house, with a faithful, loving husband.

Seemed you were going to become a cliche, instead. A wife to produce heirs to a mafia king, while he fucked around with whomever he desired.

Perhaps you should walk into the restaurant, make a scene, throw a drink in Steve's face. Throw it at that woman's white dress.

But you only clench your hands on the paper bag with takeout you bought to eat at home (your pregnancy is turning you into a bottomless pit). You straighten your back and keep your head up high as you march to the car and get inside, Natasha and Yelena slipping inside soundlessly.

Yelena tries to say something, explain Steve's actions, but you tell her you're not interested.

"I don't care." You announce as coldly as you can, quite proud that your voice doesn't crack with how hurt you feel inside.

At home you devour your food. And some chocolate muffins that you baked in the morning. Each bite as delicious as heavy, your stomach revolting with the bitter jealousy and anger at the thought of what Steve was up to.

Are they having a romantic dinner and smiling at each other across the table? Is he sliding his hand up her thigh and under her dress? Does he make her come silently in front of all the patrons?

Will he take her to a hotel room, or one of his apartments that he owns all around the city, and fuck her into a screaming mess?

Will he fuck her better than he did you last night... yanking a fistful of your hair as he wrecked you into a dripping mess and praised you, A good little wife, taking all of me so well.

Ripping apart another muffin, you decide on your next step. You know running away wouldn't work. For one, you have two guards, who may be friendly, but still were loyal to Steve and what he said triumphed over whatever you wanted.

Secondly, even if you managed to slip out, Steve would find you. And he'd drag you back into the cage and the life he builds with you beside him.

You can't leave the penthouse, but you can make yourself a safe space in one of the free guest rooms.

Since Steve's dipping his dick in other woman's cunt, he doesn't need you sleeping beside him.

You definitely don't want to touch him when he reeks of other woman's perfume. You don't even want to see him.

So after you drag most of your stuff from the main bedroom and hastily put it in the closet in your new room, you close the door. Just in time, because less than ten minutes later the echo of firm footsteps resounds.

You flip a book open, trying to focus on the printed words and not on the way your heart hammers in your chest as you hear Steve's footsteps aiming for the main bedroom.

A vicious part of you hopes that he is a shocked, seeing that you're not there.

Not in the huge bed, naked under soft covers, waiting for your husband lord and master to throw you a crumb of his attention.

The emotionally heaving part of you shudders in sobs at the image of Steve simply not minding that you're not there.

Maybe he's only a little surprised, but brushes it off and simply takes a shower to wash off the remnants of that woman's arousal and his own sweat. Then he'll get into bed and fall asleep sated, uncaring for your state as long as you obediently stayed inside.

You rub at your eyes, cursing the tears away. You shake your head and try once again to focus on the words you're reading.

But then, after a long stretch of silence, footsteps sound through the space. A creaking of door being open. Then another. Slowly moving towards where you are hidden.

Your heart rate increases, fingers trembling against the paper pages of your book.

You take a breath, willing yourself to remain calm and not show Steve how hurt you are. Play it the way mob bosses wives in movies and tv shows do it - cold and indifferent, an armor around you, so nothing can prickle you.

The door to your claimed room opens and Steve stands there in the doorway in all his stormy glory.

He frowns, seeing you sitting stiffly on the bed.

He walks inside. Sleeves of his suit jacket are pushed up, showing his forearms and twirls of tattoos. He braces his hands on his hips and gives you a look that's a combination of concern and blatant anger.

"Can you explain what's the meaning of all this?" Steve's voice is thick and raspy.

You swallow, but shrug nonchalantly as if his heated gaze isn't bothering you.

"I thought it's better to leave the main bedroom, in case you brought your companion home for the night." You say and return your gaze to the book, fighting the urge to wave him away with a dismissive gesture.

"What?" Steve's frown deepens, actual confusion showing on his face.

"I'm not sure your mistress would like seeing me there. Might ruin the mood." You lift your head and sneer at him. "So I simply made it easier for you."

"I have a mistress now?" Steve raises a single brow, remaining calm while everything inside of you was boiling.

You snap your book closed and slam in onto the bedside table. With a little huff you get off the bed and stomp over to Steve.

"No need to lie." You scoff. "I saw you. With her. Didn't know mob business meant taking beautiful women to expensive restaurants."

You push at his chest in anger, but Steve's strong, muscled body doesn't even sway at your outburst. So you push at him again, unsuccessfully, but at least you get to unleash some of your fury.

"Just do me a favor and don't bring any of your whores home once the baby is here. Stay in one of your apartments, or allow me to move into one."

You can't hold off tears anymore and as some pour out, trickling down your cheeks, you clench your hands into fists and slam them against Steve's chest.

Steve's fingers wrap around your wrists, a tight, almost painful hold that keeps your hands bound to his chest.

"You are not going away from me." He declares, a definite order.

His eyes darken, a flash of lethal danger he rarely directed at you.

"In any form." He ads, obviously meaning you switching bedrooms.

Slowly, Steve's face lightens up. Twinkles appear in his eyes and it makes another wave of annoyance surge through you.

He keeps your wrists locked in one of his hands as he uses the other hand to cup your cheek.

"Any moving you're going to do is along with me." He says and tries to lean his forehead against yours, but you pull your head back.

Steve sighs.

"Which is why," he forces you to maintain eye contact with him, "I had a meeting with Camilla. She's a real estate agent who works for me on renovating a house that I bought for us. For our family."

His words make you speechless. A house? Someplace where you'd feel more free and where your kids could run in glee.

Still, you remain suspicious. You want to assume it's just a crafty lie, you're sure Steve's good at those.

"The Infinite is a rather romantic place to talk construction." You narrow your eyes.

Steve chuckles and shakes his head. He lets go of your wrists to wrap both his arms around you, pulling you close to him despite your attempt to squirm away.

"Jealous little bird." He hums and slides one of his hands up to grip the back of your neck.

"In my line of work-" Steve leans closer, his nose tracing the line of your jaw, hot breath tickling your skin making you shiver-

"I manipulate people. Some with threats, some with sugar. And some, like Camilla, with never voiced promise of something they wish for."

Steve's soft snicker puffs across your cheek at your sneer. His lips travel toward your lips. You close your eyes at the intensity of his blue irises and the way your body reacts to the touch of his mouth against yours.

"A restaurant dinner gave her that little spark that will make her work her ass off to grand me all my wishes regarding our house. Even though not once have I even brushed an inch of her body with my fingers."

"It also happens-" the tip of Steve's tongue licks over your bottom lip, his hand starts pulling up the hem of your nightgown- "that I know how to manipulate my wife's body, so she sweats out all that jealousy and anger while she creams on my cock."

Your tiny, needy whimper makes him chuckle in dark victory.

"That what you need, huh?" He grips your buttock and kneads it. "Should I fuck you braindead every day, so that your mind doesn't come up with silly ideas?"

"It wasn't silly." You try to defend your earlier outburst, but it comes out breathy and weak.

"Thinking I could be interested in anyone else when I have your sweet, ripe body at my disposal. Absolutely ridiculous." Steve flashes you a wolfish grin.

He lifts you up suddenly, forcing your arms and legs to wrap around him. His fingers slide from your ass to dip between your thighs as he turns around and walks out of the room.

"You're coming back to our bedroom." He growls a command.

"I'm going to keep you naked and full of cum for the next few days, so it really sinks in that neither of us is stepping away from this marriage. Ever."

[servicpop]

ITTO ⋆⋆⋆ x sub bottom m!reader

NSFW › itto is oblivious to reader's love for him, virgin itto, size difference, biting/marking, public / outside sex, breeding(?)

You and Itto were joint by the hip since little kids. You two did everything together. Exploring places you've never seen before, getting in trouble together, playing beetles together, bathing together. Your parents seemed hesitant at first when you brought little Itto over to your house, he was an oni, they weren't sure if Itto would be too rough when playing or would be a bad influence. But as time progressed, your parents eventually realised that Itto was nothing but a big softie who was a too dumb to actually hurt you.

As you grew older, Itto grew taller. Itto was always the taller one but now as you grew into an adult, he practically towered over you. Itto... didn't become any less of an airhead though, he still remained that same dumb softie from years ago.

When he offered you to join his gang, the Arataki Gang, you somewhat willingly decided to join. At first you thought by 'gang' he meant he'd do crimes and whatnot but then you thought about Itto as a person. There was no way he would be capable to make an elaborate enough plan to steal something or do any crime.

When you actually joined, you realised that it was basically just Itto and his friends hanging out but Kuki — the only one who had a semblance of braincells — that it was originally meant to be for people who were shunned out by society. However, in the process of trying to promote the Arataki Gang, due to the lack of intelligence, mischief and trouble seemed to follow the members like lost puppies. You can't count on your fingers how many times you had to bail them out.

Despite all the chaos in the Arataki Gang, you stuck closest to Itto, it was natural, you've been best friends since diapers. However, this evening when the sun of inazuma set, casting an orange and yellow hue on the land below, you and Kuki were strolling along the streets mindlessly. Itto had gone off somewhere with no contact — like he does sometimes — leaving you and Kuki to talk alone. You liked her, she was calmer than the rest and alot more intelligent.

"You like him don't you?"

Her words rang through your head like an achingly high pitched frequency as you stumbled in your step. Did you like Itto? Sure you sometimes fantasised about his big arms wrapping around you and sometimes your heart would race when he flashed you a toothy grin but—

"I notice the way you act around the boss,"

Kuki crosses her arms and leans her weight onto on leg as she looks at you. The cool evening breeze brushes past your face like a small caress and you find yourself speechless, not knowing how to respond. From your lack of words she continues,

"I was going to tell him but... I think its best if you do it yourself."

You force a small nod and she walks away, muttering something about needing to run an errand but her words fall short from your ears. You've never considered it until now how you always felt warm whenever with Itto and sometimes you even dreamt of Itto in ways that you'd never say outloud. Now looking back at how you felt around Itto... you were in love and Itto was completely oblivious to it.

You and Itto were laying down on a grassy hill, the tuffs of green tickling your back as Itto was settled next to you with his arms crossed behind his head. He was asleep. Itto had fallen asleep after causing whatever sort of mischief and called you over just to lie on a hill with him.

Silence filled the blue sky with the exception of birds chirping and leaves rustling in the wind. It was a secluded spot no one really came to, that's why Itto liked it. Away from all the judge-y eyes and incriminating stares. You watch as his chest rises and falls at a steady pace and you roll over onto your stomach, eyes still glued on Itto.

"I love you, Itto."

The words spill out of your mouth like a running faucet that doesn't shut off. You shuffle almost uncomfortably on the grass and you keep letting your confession roll from your tongue.

"I can't deny that... sometimes I get these dreams where you love me too and—"

It's too embarassing to admit that you've dreamt of Itto holding you and fucking you like there's no end but the implication is there.

"But I'll never say it to your face that I love you... I don't want to ruin our friendship." Your words hang heavy and you stare at Itto as if waiting for him to wake up and catch you but he doesn't. Your gaze falls to the ground, watching the blades of grass move along your arm from the wind. It's a ticklish sensation.

"You love me?"

That familiar hearty chuckle meets your ears and you can feel your whole world pause. Slowly turning your head, you meet Itto's gaze. He's propped up on one arm and he's staring at you with sparkles in his eyes like an oaf. Embarassment colors your cheeks as you quickly turn away; you're not sure how to face him after basically confessing how you've had a crush on him and had lewd dreams about him.

A small yelp is practically forced out of you when Itto wraps his arms around your waist securely, and suddenly he's ontop of you, holding you down. "Dreams? About me? The one and only?" Usually by now you'd groan and roll your eyes but when Itto is pressed against your body, you lose all your will to fight. "Wait wait wait wait, you've got me curious now, is it really that good?" You've always knew that Itto was a virgin, never had romantic partner before, never had a hook-up, nothing. So it was natural for the oni to be curious.

Itto's abnormally large and calloused hands roam and prod at your clothing. He doesn't know what he's doing and its clear from how mindlessly he's tugging at your pants. With a small chuckle, Itto clicks off your belt and pulls down your pants alongside with your boxers. Was he really planning to fuck right in the middle of a grass hill? "Woah, you're really small," you took offense to that and was about to retaliate until you remembered Itto was an oni, he was most likely double your size.

At this point your face was buried in the comfort of your own forearms, protecting yourself from the harsh grass below you. You hear a clink followed by a thud, indicating that Itto took off his belt and was doing the same with his pants. "You're trembling man, are you cold?" It was nice of Itto to ask but, you were mostly trembling in a mix of fear and anticipation. How would his cock actually feel inside of you? Would it be bigger than you expected?

Itto leans in and you feel something big poke at your hole. There was no way that was his cock. You glance back at him and your jaw drops to the floor. He was bigger than you expected, and his red markings trailed all the way to his tip. His hand palms at your ass, spreading it apart as he clumsily lines himself up, sometimes missing. The usually talkative Itto is now relatively quiet, his breathing becoming more exasperated as he slowly pushes inside of you.

It burns. The way he stretches you out and forces you to accommodate for his size burns but also feels addictingly good. His hands grab at your waist, squeezing the soft flesh of your body as he groans quietly. "W–What the hell... you're so tight," His boisterous ego stammers as he becomes a breathy mess, trying to push deeper inside of you. Itto's nails dig into your skin, leaving crescent shapes indents on your hip as his head falls forward. You can feel his dick throbbing inside of you and your body is completely filled with just him.

Without another word, Itto pulls out before slamming back in. He hits right at your prostate, making stars appear in your vision. "Wait Itto slow down! You're too big—" Your whines fail to reach his numb brain; all he can focus on is the way you're sucking him back in every time he pulls out. "A–ah it feels so good," Itto's teeth graze against your shoulder but he tries to resist biting down. What a sweetheart.

You feel him tremble on top of you, like he's resisting the urges to be rough and unforgiving. It was in his nature to breed. His grip tightens on you, and he has his arms firmly wrapped around your body like you're a plushie. Itto's hips piston into you causing a loud slapping sound from your skin making contact with his. He can't help but hold you close, otherwise you'd try to leave him! He's practically drooling all over your shoulder but you're too fucked-dumb to really care.

Itto's teeth finally sink into your shoulder, sucking softly as he marks you as his, "Sorry, can't– help it." His apologies are quiet as he stammers like he's acting against his own will. "Gonna... gonna cum," He whimpers, his fingers digging into your skin. That was sure to leave a mark the next day. You feel a pool of pleasure in your stomach; you're close too. The way he's hitting all the right spots with every thrust made your legs weak. Who would've thought the 'big bad oni' would be whimpering and groaning while fucking you senseless.

This was better than your dreams of him. Instead of having to groggily clean your pants every morning, you're shooting blanks out onto the grass as Itto slams his hips against your ass a few more times. He groans lowly into your ear before orgasming inside of you, filling you up to the brim. You feel his crushing weight suddenly crash down on you as he collapses from the bliss. "Itto! You're too heavy get off," you whine but your protests go unheard by the oni who's dazed out of his mind.

"What's going on with you two...?"

Kuki blinks blankly at you as she glances from your intertwined fingers with Itto and your blushing face. You weren't exactly the one for big public display of affection but Itto didn't seem to care at all. In fact, he's got you glued to his side with a big smile on his face.

"He's my boyfriend!"

a/n : big dumb itto ,, luv him

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for asking my gf's son not to call me dad?

I (22M) have been dating my gf (24F) for 4 years now. She has a 7 year old whose dad isn't in the picture anymore - he hasn't been since the kid was born. My gf says he was abusive and I think there are some charges against him but as far as I know, nothing was proven. He has other kids too who he does have a relationship with but he doesn't have custody rights with my gf's son so they hasn't been allowed to have a relationship.

My gf and I live together and are both in college. I am going to be a surgeon and she wants to study science but she hasn't decided what to do with it yet. Because we're both busy with that, her son doesn't live with us full time. He stays with her parents during the week. This means that we have to dedicate our weekends to looking after the kid. I didn't really mind this at first but her parents are really pushing for her to look after him during the week now too, which we don't have time for. I hear how that doesn't sound great but the plan has always been that her parents will take care of the kid until she finishes with school. She has classes for 4+ hours from Mon-Thurs, plus she needs to spend a few hours studying every day, then she has labs on Friday for most of the day. I have classes all week for fewer hours each day but next semester I'll probably be doing an internship so I'll have more work to do. Then we pick up her kid on Friday evenings and spend the whole weekend with him. There's hardly any time for us to spend time alone together. I like her son and he's usually fun to have around but both of us are obviously stressed from having no down time so most weekends my gf and her son get into an argument or something and things escalate. I try not to get involved when that happens. Sometimes my gf and I are the ones who end up arguing and in that case, I usually go to my parents house.

Basically, I'm not super involved with the kid. Her parents want us to spend all of our free time on parenting despite originally agreeing that it was better if my gf focused on school. He has a dad who could probably be more involved but my gf and her family don't want him around. I've suggested that maybe it would be a better solution for her son to live with his dad full time, that way she can focus on school and then her career and still have time for herself and for us. I love her but she doesn't really have maternal instincts and she doesn't actually want kids, she has said a lot that she regrets not giving him up for adoption.

Recently, we were out for dinner with my gf's sister and kid, and the kid called me his dad. He's done this a lot and usually I just kind of ignore it, but no one else corrected him this time and I felt like the kid deserved the truth. I asked him then and there not to call me dad because he has a real dad who probably wouldn't like it. He didn't seem upset by it but my gf's sister lost it. She thinks I don't want the kid around and that I'm the reason my gf doesn't spend more time with him. She also thinks this was the first time my gf's son heard about his bio dad. Total conjecture, but she won't hear my side of it. The kid knows I havent been around since he was born so he obviously knows someone else must be his dad. I told my gf I don't think it's fair to let the kid call me dad when he has a real dad out there and she sort of agrees. She told her son not to call me dad anymore and they had a long talk about it. She still doesn't want the real dad involved but that's a whole other battle.

Here's why I think I might be the asshole: I said this to the kid in a moment of annoyance, which probably wasn't the way to bring it up. Like I said, he didn't seem upset by it but I wasn't there for the longer conversation so I don't know exactly. I think he's old enough to be allowed to know about his real dad in a more serious way. It's kind of messed up that he could run into his dad in the street (we live in a pretty small town) and wouldn't know it. I'm not his dad and for the foreseeable future, I won't be responsible for him as a parent because he still lives with his grandparents. I think it's reasonable to say that he shouldn't call me dad. So, AITA?

[missmonsters2]

Mirror, Mirror | One

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: The thought of something more had never really crossed Wanda's mind when it came to you. Best friends for 10 years and there hasn't even been one instance of accidental sexual tension. You're her best friend, that's all—until someone points out that you obviously have a very specific type when it comes to dating.

Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.

*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*

Note: i'm back!!! Nothing like coming back and posting a mini series. Enjoy this superior trope. Updates will be on Tuesdays! As you can see, we're trying something new with explicit content lol 😬

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: ~4.1k

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It's strange how sometimes a single sentence can change someone's entire life. 

Wanda's thought about what sentences could change her life—usually, they're morbid and depressing.

'You have cancer.'

'Someone you love has died horrifically in an accident.'

'Your cat actually finds living with you miserable and would prefer the dangers of living in the streets.'

Never in a million years would Wanda ever think it'd be, 'Hey, have you ever noticed how your best friend exclusively only dates girls who look like you?'

And don't get Wanda wrong. It wasn't a morbid or depressing change; it was just...a change. An irrevocable change because now, Wanda couldn't stop thinking about it or noticing it. 

This was all Steve's fault. 

Because if someone like Stupid Steve could notice something like that, it had to mean something, right? But as Wanda remembers about the past girls you've hooked up with and brought around, she doesn't know what to make of it.

A part of Wanda wishes she had never talked to Steve that night at the bar. 

"Where's Vis?" Steve asked, looking around.

"With Tony playing pool, I think," Wanda shrugged. She doesn't particularly keep track of where her on-and-off boyfriend goes. She thinks they might be on an off-period right now, anyway. 

"And where's—oh, nevermind, there she is," Steve started to say but cut off when they both saw you across the bar talking with the bartender, flirting over drinks—which were probably free if Wanda could guess. 

Wanda's slightly annoyed because it's been a long week without seeing you, and Wanda's been used to seeing you almost every day for the past several years of her life. But you've been gone on a work trip this week for a wedding shoot and only came home just a little after lunch and needed an immediate long nap before tonight's get-together. 

That meant Wanda was sorely missing out on best-friend time, and now you were off flirting shamelessly with the hot bartender. Wanda's rooting for you, make no mistake. The bartender is definitely easy on the eyes, luscious hair, and lips—something Wanda knows you're weak for. 

Plus, Wanda's worried you're not anywhere near getting close to settling down. She wants you to be in a happy, fulfilling relationship. But she supposes she's in no position to talk herself. 

Wanda loves Vision without a doubt, but their relationship is definitely chaotic, and Vision keeps pushing for something more serious now that they've been dating (sporadically) for a long time. She's been considering it in her downtime and thinks it might make sense as the next step.

Best friends do everything together, right? So, maybe if Wanda decided to take the next step in a serious relationship, you'd find someone to commit to seriously as well. 

Then, both of you could get married at the same time. Then, they could buy a house in the same neighborhood right next to each other. There'd be endless double dates and vacations together. Wanda wouldn't have to miss you.

But first, Wanda needed to regain lost best-friend time, one-on-one style.  

"Hey, you know what I just noticed?" Steve said, breaking Wanda's drifting thoughts. 

"What?"

"Bug—" 

Wanda makes a face at your nickname. Granted, it was Wanda's fault you ended up with it back in your first year of university. You never let her forget it, especially now that you're a professional photographer.

"—over there has a very specific type she goes after for girls," Steve mused, sipping his whiskey before continuing. "I mean, they always have green eyes and brunette—wait, that's not true. She had two red-headed girlfriends in our last year of university. They still had green eyes, though." 

"Oh," Wanda said, unsure what to say since she's never paid attention to the girls you were dating. On average, they were a brief fling, and only a few lasted longer than half a year. "I guess so?"

Wanda distantly thinks about how she dyed her hair auburn in her last year of university because she was looking for a change that year and Natasha was insistent that she'd look amazing. Wanda recalls you were a fan of the look.

"Yeah," Steve nodded along. "Ironically, they always look like you in some way. Check out that bartender now—long, wavy-haired brunette with green eyes. She's got thick, long lips and even does that dark eye-shadow makeup thingy like you."

Steve just laughed it off, finishing his drink, thinking nothing more of it before he started talking about Bucky.

But it was like something clicked into place in Wanda's brain. A daunting realization that she was wholly unprepared for and not equipped to do anything about. 

Wanda watched as the bartender clocked off for the night and dragged you into a corner booth, drinks in hand. It gave Wanda the perfect view that the bartender wore many rings just like she did. 

In the poor privacy of the dimly lit corner booth, there was a staunch and needy kiss from the two of you, and Wanda swallowed roughly. 

From here, if you were none the wiser, Wanda could be easily mistaken for the girl in the booth with you. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Sometimes, Wanda believes she's just being absolutely ridiculous. So what if you go after girls who share the same features as her? That didn't have to mean anything. You've always told Wanda she was beautiful, and it was perfect how you said it. 

It didn't feel insincere or creepy. It felt good to know her best friend thought she was absolutely gorgeous. But just because you thought she was beautiful doesn't mean you harbored secret feelings for her. 

You'd be insulted if you knew Wanda had ever thought that. She'd just be another one of those girls Wanda's seen you humble on multiple occasions when they found out you dated women, and they were worried you might have a crush on them. 

But then, Wanda couldn't stop thinking she actually might be one of those girls because then she'd think about if you didn't consider her like that, it wasn't about her looks but something about her personality that wasn't your type. 

And what could that be?

Wanda thought long and hard, trying to remember the girls you've introduced her to. 

Sometimes they were funny, and Wanda was funny. She made you laugh all the time. She specifically remembered one time in high school when she made you laugh so hard you peed your pants just a little. 

Sometimes they were intellectual, and while Wanda didn't have an IQ of 160, she did fairly well academically and was on the right track in her career. 

Sometimes they were charming, and Wanda was the type where she got more charming the more you got to know her. 

So, Wanda just doesn't understand. She's nowhere further with her thinking ever since this weird information has been bestowed upon her.

Maybe it all just means nothing. You just didn't feel that way about Wanda despite the type of girls you dated suggesting otherwise. You didn't need a reason for it, and maybe the fact you only felt friendship for her was the reason. 

"Wanna order pizza in tonight?"

Wanda turns her head from the tv and notices you've put your book down. "Hm, not really. We had pizza last week," Wanda shakes her head. 

"How about that Greek place that just opened up on Willington Ave?" You suggest. "Pretty sure I heard you grumbling about wanting Greek food earlier this week."

"I was not grumbling!" Wanda scoffs but smiles when you raise your eyebrow at her. "Okay, I was grumbling a little."

You snicker as you pull out your phone to order delivery. "Oh, sweet golden best friend of mine, whatever shall you do when you get married to Vis, who hates Greek food. Do I foresee a life of Greekless cuisine? Oh, the suffering you'll go through!"

"I don't need him to like it," Wanda slaps your arm, sticking her tongue out before she cuddles you. "I have you to eat it with."

You laugh unabashedly, a sound that Wanda's accustomed to hearing the joyful sound. "Better hope the person I marry also hates Greek cuisine. I don't know if I can live a life of eating double the Greek food. I love tzatziki sauce, but if I grow to hate it from eating it too much, I will make you suffer the consequences of that."

Your voice trails off as you focus on ordering food, unable to see the cogs in Wanda's head turning. 

It's all so easy. There's no tension, no electric vibes happening. Just best friends enjoying the banter and making plans to eat. 

It was all in Wanda's head, right? You're her best friend, so of course you'd know everything about her. 

The right type of friendship is fulfilling and soul-connecting, and that's what Wanda has with you. When you have a one-in-a-million connection like that, the line between friendship and romance is thin, isn't it?

Wanda hates Steve. She'd never think about this if it wasn't for Stupid Steve. She can hear his dumb laugh, blissfully ignorant about the observation bomb he dropped upon her. 

"Do you wanna get ice cream after?" You ask, throwing your phone to the side. "I'll even treat you to the gelato despite knowing I'm going to suffer through your crazy farts later."

"Oh my god, I'm going to trap you under the blanket with it just for that!" 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Within two months, Wanda forgets about it. Forgets, as in that she decides to drop it (let it linger in the deep depths of her brain that she refuses to acknowledge), and resolves that Steve has no brain cells and has no idea what he's saying. 

"Have you seen my strapless black top?" Wanda shouts from her room with the door open. "The one with the v-shaped front!"

"In your closet!" You yelled back from the living room, not taking your eyes off your phone. 

"I can't find it," Wanda whines, and she hears you sigh as you get up. The footsteps approach her room, and she finds you standing at the door with an unimpressed look.

"I don't want to hear it," Wanda sniffs. 

"Hear what, brat?" You say with a brow raised before you start rummaging through her closet. The nickname was a joke you started that Wanda was entirely a spoiled person, exhibiting bratty behavior at times. "That I'm not gonna be your roommate forever, so you need to learn to fold it yourself before putting it away?"

Wanda makes grumbling noises that are mostly nonsensical but smiles when you pull out the top she was looking for. 

"You are the apple of my eye, stinky," Wanda grabs the top from you before she runs into her washroom to briefly change into it. 

"A match made in heaven, yeah, yeah," you roll your eyes with good humor. "Hurry up, Natasha will kill us if we're late for Yelena's birthday. They're on an upwards mend in their relationship, so she's been so unbearably uptight lately to make sure nothing goes wrong."

"I know, I know," Wanda mutters, carefully pulling the top over her head to not ruin her makeup. 

"Alright, I'll hail us a cab, meet me outside."

"Wait, wait!" Wanda calls out. "I need help putting on my necklace."

You chuckle, walking back just as Wanda steps out of the bathroom with the delicate necklace she wants to wear. 

"Alright, alright, relax," you tell her. "Your accent gets really strong when you're stressed."

"You're stressing me out by rushing me," Wanda scrunches her nose even though you can't see it. "I'm also stressed knowing that you have to rush me, or I'll spend the party getting lectured by Natasha."

Wanda's voice comes out husked with the accent, something she's struggled between hating or loving, but mostly loving since you've expressed how lovely it is.

You grab the necklace from her hand, and Wanda moves her hair out of the way. The routine of it all starts to bleed the tension out of her shoulders. 

Then, that horrible Stupid Steve Sentence kicks into her brain. 

 It's only as you put your arms over, placing the necklace against Wanda's chest, and focusing on trying to get the clasp in. Wanda can feel your warm breath against her neck, summoning goosebumps along her arms. You're so close, and she can feel the heat of your body radiating onto her, your fingers just barely brushing against her.

The tension comes suddenly, squeezing inside her chest as her breathing slows and shakes. Her body warms in an unexpected way. 

"Ah, got it," you say, but Wanda can only focus on your voice and breath on the shell of her ear. "Cute necklace but the clasp is so annoying."

You pull away and start walking off. "C'mon, I bet if we tip our taxi driver an extra $20 bucks, they'll speed and we can pray we're on time."

Wanda's left standing there, knowing she probably sounds like she's fresh out of Sokovia with how stressed she is. Her right eye twitches.

Was that...Wanda gulps. Was that sexual tension?

And was she the only one who felt it?

Fuck.

She's going to kill Steve.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Natasha's absolutely neurotic when they arrive. It's just a simple backyard party, but it almost looks like a wedding venue with all the catering and flowers. 

Wanda's pretty sure Natasha's only being like this because she's overthinking about whether to cling to Yelena or give her sister some space to mingle with others. She seems to be sizing up Kate, who Yelena might be seeing, but it hasn't been confirmed. 

Yelena looks between exasperated with Natasha and secretly happy about the entire thing. Wanda can sympathize with her. After all, she's also a little sister, and Pietro can also be way too overprotective. Sometimes she's glad he's abroad in Europe for work while she remains in New York, but she misses him more often than she admits. 

"Alright, alright, Natasha," you groan, and Wanda's mind slips back into the conversation. "We're 3 minutes late, relax, will you? Damn, are you always gonna be like this until you and Yelena get back into whatever sibling bond you had before? Hope you're just like this with us because otherwise, you're gonna scare away all her friends, and she's going to hate you."

"Oh my god, do you think she'll really hate me?" Natasha bites her bottom lip in worry while looking around at all the people that they can only assume she's nagged about being late or whatever mishap. 

"Oh, man," you sigh, putting your hand on her shoulders before pushing her towards the bar. "You need some drinks and maybe some desserts in you."

Wanda's about to follow you when you turn around and nod your head in a different direction. She looks over and sees you're nodding toward Vision.

"You should go say hi to him," you tell her. "You've been complaining about not seeing him all last week, even though I don't know why you guys won't just FaceTime, but I digress. Come find me later, or I'll find you after."

You look over at Natasha, who's peering on her tippy toes to see if she can find Yelena.

"And, hopefully, I'll have ditched this nutjob," you whisper conspiratorially and laugh when Natasha turns around to smack your arm. 

"I heard that!"

Wanda chuckles as you walk off with Natasha while she turns and heads toward Vision. Despite how she was complaining about not seeing Vision last week because she did miss him, her expression was sour as she made her way toward him. 

Vision spots her immediately and waves at her with a warm smile. Wanda feels herself somewhat loosened at his expression. They'd also been friends a long time before they started on-and-off dating, so at the very least, she does miss his easy friendship. 

"Hey," Vision hugs her, slightly rubbing her back before he pulls away but keeps his arm around her. "It's been a while; you look lovely."

"Thanks," Wanda smiles with a shrug. She looks around and sees he's standing with Tony and Pepper. "How are you guys?"

"Could be better," Tony sighs dramatically. "Natasha won't let me do any of my cool party tricks as if I'm going to ruin her little sister's party. If anything, I could make it the party of the century!"

Pepper rolls her eyes good-naturedly. "We were just talking about how we're thinking of going to the Bahamas for vacation in December and escaping the cold. We've invited you and Vision along since it's been awhile since we've all gone together. Of course, we can also invite Bug and Natasha."

"Oh," Wanda says for a lack of anything else to say. She doesn't know how to feel about it, but she peers over at Vision, who's just smiling at her and looking eager about it. 

"I need another drink if I'm going to suffer through this party," Tony sighs. "Maybe I can convince Yelena instead!" He grins, dragging Pepper along, and they walk off together. 

"So, what do you think?" Vision asks when they're alone. "I didn't want to reply on your behalf since I wasn't sure, but I think it'd be good for us. I've missed you," Vision pauses as if he's about his next words but then says, "a lot."

"Yeah, me too," Wanda starts to say, but then her brain gets all haywire because it feels like a lie. She did miss him, but did she miss him a lot? "I think."

"You think?"

Wanda wants to smack her forehead because she didn't mean to say that out loud. "I mean, I was complaining a lot that I haven't seen you in a while all last week."

"Yeah, work has just been overwhelming. I get so tired after work, I just can't keep up with the texting or calls."

But you can, Wanda thinks. Granted, you're her roommate, so it's easier. But even when you have to go on work trips, you regularly text her no matter what time and squeeze in a quick call, even if it's just to say goodnight. 

The entire thing makes Wanda bite her tongue because why was she even thinking about that? That was completely irrelevant to Vision. 

Then—because as if just thinking about you wasn't enough—her eyes trail across the room, and the scene before her makes Wanda even more confused about her feelings.

You're standing there with Natasha at the bar, but it looks like Natasha's calling someone over to introduce you to them.

Another brunette with long, wavy hair, like she just had a blowout done. Wanda's not 100% sure from this distance, but she has an inkling that the brunette also has green eyes. She's wearing a white halter top and wide-legged sage green pants. She wears a lot of rings, but her makeup is lighter and more summery compared to Wanda's darker, smokey eye makeup.

In short, this woman was the clean girl aesthetic version of Wanda. 

And you look interested. 

This was ridiculous, Wanda fumes, feeling her stomach sink and cheeks flare hot in anger. As quick as the anger came, it dissipated.

Why was she so angry?

She feels betrayed, and her thoughts are turning very ugly. Wanda is definitely not being a girl's girl right now with how much she's thinking she's better than the girl in front of you. 

But that just makes everything so much more confusing. 

"Wanda?"

Wanda turns her head back to Vision. He looks concerned, and even when his eyes trail toward what Wanda's staring at, there's no additional reaction. He's not upset that she's staring at you, and that has to mean something, right?

It must mean there was never a concern about how Wanda might've felt about you. Sure, there were a few things Wanda couldn't be without, and you were one of them, but nobody can't be without their best friend. 

No one had ever blinked twice about you and Wanda.

Except now.

And that person was Wanda herself. 

The more Wanda thought about the entire thing, the more she became curious. The idea of you dating people who looked like Wanda was intriguing. She wanted to ask questions but didn't know what to ask.

It might mean nothing, but it also might mean something. 

And if it does mean something, Wanda wants to know what exactly it is. 

Therefore, Wanda needs nothing in her way to find out the truth and exactly what she wants, regardless of the answer. 

This was insane, wasn't it? Wanda's always been ambivalent about dating women. She's never gone out of her way to try it since she had Vision. Never mind entertaining thoughts about dating her best (girl)friend. And now, she was giving everything up in the pursuit of finding out what it could mean that her best friend was dating her lookalikes—and why she cared.

Wanda doesn't even know what she'll want to do with that information. 

Wanda looks at Vision, peering at his features she's always found handsome. When she thinks back, she's not even sure why she complained to you about how she hasn't seen or heard from him lately. She hadn't even gone out of her own way to do something about it.

"I'm not going on the trip. I don't think I actually missed you like that."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

The girl introduced to you was named Raye, Natasha's coworker that recently moved from Nashville. It was also confirmed she has green eyes, though they had specks of brown in them. She was a southern belle with a bold attitude, witty, and a wicked sense of humor. All in all, undeniably charismatic. 

At least, that's what you told her in private because all Wanda could feel was unrestricted aggravation with the other girl. The southern twang made Wanda's eye twitch, mostly because she knew you were head over heels for accents.  

"And then before I knew it, I was panicked and more lost than a blindfolded turkey on thanksgiving!"

You burst out laughing while Wanda's expression is stony, but when you look at Wanda, she forces a smile on her lips.

"Hahaha," Wanda dryly let out. "So funny."

But it wasn't. What the fuck did that even mean?

Raye continues to talk while you listen with rapt interest, and Wanda takes the time to observe your features in a way she's done many times before but with a different mindset. 

Your lips are curved in a smile, glistening from your chapstick. They're shapely, and they look soft. It rivals her favorite feature of yours, which is your eyes. They've always been so expressive with her, and Wanda's been around long enough that she knows what every expression means. She can tell when they glint with mischievousness or are soft with immense compassion and empathy. 

"So, what did you think of Raye?" You ask Wanda as you leave the party.

"She's cool, I guess," Wanda answers nonchalantly. 

The rest of the party was excruciating between Raye constantly hanging around you and Wanda also being too nervous to be alone with you. 

"Really cool," you sigh with a grin. "Glad I got her number. It's been a while since I've met someone so funny."

Was she funny, though? Wanda wonders.

"Funnier than me?" Wanda finds herself asking.

"No one could be funnier than you, brat," you smirk. "I almost peed myself laughing again when you almost knocked off Yelena's cake. I thought Natasha was about to enter into a coma." You snicker while Wanda rolls her eyes with a smile. 

"Glad I can always give you the biggest laughs, stinky."

Wanda glances over at your face, recognizing the excitement by the brightness in them. It's just another reminder that, as your best friend, she knows you like the back of her hand. 

But lately, when Wanda watches you pick up girls, she can tell when they're heady with desire. That look hasn't been directed at her, and Wanda wants to know what it'd be like if it were.

Wanda recalls the night you kissed the bartender and imagines if it had been her instead. She pictures your hand sliding across her jaw and cheek while your other pulls her closer at the waist. 

It's horrifying when a slow pit of arousal builds in Wanda's gut and...other regions. It feels utterly frightening and wrong like she's betraying the friendship for having and then reacting to such thoughts about you. 

But there's another part—the part that tells Wanda there's nobody in this world that she loves more than you. The mere idea of ever being apart from you was unfathomable. Wanda could and has endured so many things, and it would always be okay as long as she had you. 

So, knowing that Southern Belle Raye has the potential to be more than a one-night stand to you, Wanda realizes that she has a very small window to not only come to terms with her newfound feelings but also act on them as well. 

If this didn't go well, Wanda would definitely murder Steve.

PART TWO

[thebearer]

baby blues |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: two blue lines change all your plans, and carmen doesn't take it well. or how you tell carmen you're pregnant.

read the entire dad!carmen berzatto masterlist here!

contains: language, pregnancy, angst, carmen's an asshole, alludes to past parent trauma, hurt/comfort.

"Shit."

The hiss of your tone bounced off the green tiles of your bathroom, an eerie echo that rang dully through your mind. A reminder that this was all too real, happening right now in front of you- to you.

After weeks of what you thought was a stomach bug- retching at almost anything, exhaustion, aches- you had come to realize it might not just be a virus when you looked at the unopened box of tampons under the sink.

You were late.

A frantic trip to Walgreens, an hour of avoidance out of pure fear, three glasses of water, and two tests later; you were here. Looking at the two mocking blue lines on both tests. You were pregnant.

You called your best friend, Alicia, unsure of who else to confide in. Scared, emotional, overwhelmed, you sobbed into the phone, hand holding your head on the edge of the bed. "Carmen is gonna lose his shit."

"Carmen is not gonna lose his shit." Alicia soothed over your heaving gasps. "He will be fine. You both will be fine. You're married. What's the issue?"

You shook your head, swiping your thumb under your eyes. "You don't... Carmen and I haven't, like, ever really talked about kids." You muttered. It was mostly true. You hadn't really, other than euphoric pillow talk ramblings where you both were just bubbly with love, spilling shared wishes under sheets.

"I thought you said you wanted kids?"

"Yeah, but not now." You sobbed into the phone. "I don't... I don't think I'm ready to be a mom. I'm not gonna be good at that. I don't-I don't know anything about kids! And-And I can barely cook, and- Alicia, I couldn't keep our cactus alive! I killed our fucking cactus, and you think I'm ready for a kid?"

Alicia laughed lightly on the other end. "Ok, true, but you won't kill your kid. You'll be much more attached to it than the cactus." She countered easily, calmly. "And you'll be a good mom, babe. I know you'll be. And Carmen knows too. You know he does. Call your OBGYN and get an appointment. Make sure this is legit and get your vitamins and let me know what you need from me."

Two days later, you were laid on the cool paper at the doctor's office, eyes wide watching her drag the wand over your tummy. Seven weeks. The ultrasound clutched in your hand had an arrow where the baby was, it was still so small. A blip, a splotch right on your plans.

You decided to tell Carmen that night. He knew something was off with you, starting to get more and more suspicious. It was only a matter of time.

"Hey, baby." You grinned as excited as you could when he came home.

"Hey," Carmen chirped, grinning back at you when you kissed him sweetly, a little longer than usual, not that he minded. "How are you doin', baby? Good day?"

"Yeah, it was." You quipped, throat tightening, desperately trying to keep your voice from cracking. "I, uh, I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" Carmen's brows lifted, dropping his bag by the door. "What kinda surprise, huh? Somethin' under this?" He teased, hand sliding up your shorts, palming at your ass and making you squirm.

You couldn't help the fleeting thought that he wouldn't be able to do that for long. Not when a baby was in the house. Your throat burned with tears at the thought.

"No." You shook your head. "Just... Here, sit right here for me and I'll be right back." You kissed his cheek sweetly, running to the spare bedroom for the ultrasound. You wondered if this would be the baby's nursery. Or maybe upstairs in the makeshift workout room Carmen used. It felt odd planning this type of thing, thinking about this.

Your hands were sweaty, trying not to wrinkle the printed photo. It was your first after all. The first picture of many. Ones you secretly hoped would line the walls of your house. Pictures of the baby, with you and Carmen.

You hoped Carmen would be in them.

That horrid thought always made it's way back into your mind, rattling you to your core.

"Close your eyes." You tried to sing-song, playful and light like you usually would. The kind of tone that was silly, left Carmen grinning and doing what you said. Instead, it sounded tired.

Carmen still covered his eyes anyways. You took a soft breath, placing the photo in front of him. "Ok, y-you can open." You whispered.

Carmen's brow lifted, looking at you carefully before down at the table. He stilled, face unmoving, body halted, eyes zoned in on the ultrasound.

"Wh-What-What is this?" Carmen's tone was hushed, tight, like his chest felt. He was sure this wasn't what he thought it was. It couldn't be.

"I, um, you know I-I've been feeling not great." You started, wringing your hands in front of him. "And I... I haven't had my period in a while, so I went to the store and... and I got a test, and it was..." You motioned down to the ultrasound. "I'm pregnant, Carmen."

The house was still. That same eerie stillness creeping back in, looming over both of you in such a sickening way, it had your stomach twisting.

Carmen blinked, shaky hands picking up the ultrasound, refusing to look at you. "Oh."

"Oh?" You repeated. "Carmen, I-I said I'm pregnant."

"No, no, I, uh, yeah, I-I heard you." Carmen nodded, leg bouncing under the table. "I just... I thought you were on birth control."

"Carmen, what?" You snapped. "I am."

"Then-Then how the fuck-"

"-Oh, don't you fuckin' dare, Berzatto." You hissed, rolling your eyes at him, snatching the ultrasound off the table.

"I'm not fuckin' blaming you, but-but how?" Carmen could feel his heart rate rising, ears ringing and head spinning with that old, familiar feeling of a panic attack coming on.

"How?" You gawked at him. "Carmen, it's not, like, a one-hundred percent guarantee, and-and... Come on, Carmen, we've been fucking a lot lately."

"I don't..." Carmen stopped himself, his hand rubbing over his eyes. Your heart skipped, chest aching with fear when you looked at him. Carmen pushed his chair out, standing and pacing around the kitchen, hands on his hips, lips in a thin line. "I-I need to think. Fuck, I need to think, just-just..."

You tracked him, your own heart hammering loud in your ears. Carmen snatched his cigarettes, hands shaking when he turned them over in his hands slowly. You could practically hear his thoughts, when the baby is here, he can't smoke anymore.

"I need a fuckin' second, ok? I need to fuckin' think!" Carmen boomed, voice thundering off the walls, making you jump. Carmen snatched his lighter and Spirits, stomping out the front door, the slam of the door the last thing you heard before the house settled and stilled again. Your worst possible scenario played out in front of you, becoming a reality too.

You were alone.

"Cousin, can I ask you, what the fuck your fuckin' problem is?" Richie grit, sliding beside Carmen. "The fuck are you being such a jagoff about, right now?"

"I'm being a jagoff?" Carmen snapped, slamming the knife down. His eyes were wild, hair even wilder. Curls matted and sticking out like they did when Carmen was stressed, when he'd ran his hands through them too much.

"Yeah, you're bein' a fuckin' jagoff." Richie countered, voice raising over Carmen's. "You look like shit, you smell like shit, and you're treatin' everyone here like fuckin' shit. So what's the fuckin' issue?"

"Fuck you, Richie, alright? Fuck you. Get the fuck outta my fuckin' face!" Carmen roared, the vein in his neck protruding when he did, sending the few chefs still in the kitchen retreating before they were screamed at next.

"Y'know why don't you just fuckin' calm down? Makin' everyone here fuckin' miserable with your bad attitude. No wonder-" Richie stopped, eyes flicking down to Carmen. His shoulders dropped, sighing heavy at his own revelation. "What'd you do?"

"What? What did I... Fuck off, I'm not in the-"

"-Nah, Cousin. What did you do?" Richie shook his head. "Why's she not here today, huh?"

"I'm right here." Natalie muttered, turning the corner, balancing two cups and a large work bag. "I had to take Chelle to Pete's office so he can take her to dance, and traffic was..." Natalie laughed cynically, shaking her head.

Carmen felt his stomach twist, jaw tightening. That would be you two before you knew it. All over the place, late to shit because of the kid. Just like Sugar and fucking Pete. That made him Pete.

"Not you, but I'm glad to see you. How are you?" Richie muttered, pressing a chaste kiss to Sugar's cheek. "Carmen fucked up."

"I did not-"

"-You fucked up? On what, bear?" Natalie blinked, frowning lightly. "Oh, before I forget, where's my favorite sister in law? I have her-" Richie gave her a pointed look. Sugar stopped, face falling in realization. "Oh, that's... Carm, what did you do?"

"Can you two just fuck off? Fuck!" Carmen roared, kicking a pot under the table.

"Wow, anger issues much?" Sugar rolled her eyes at his dramatics. "Is this what you did? Is that why she isn't here?"

"No, Natalie, you're pissin' me the fuck off-"

"Alright!" Richie clapped his hands, cutting them both off. "Family meeting. Ok? Meeting time. Right now."

"I don't have time-" Carmen started, Richie just clapping his hands on his shoulders, shoving him away from the table.

"Natalie, family meeting." Richie waved her in.

"Family meeting?" Fak turned the corner, eyes lit up hopefully.

"Not with you, you fuckin'..." Richie huffed, shaking his head. "Me, Nat, and Carm are having a meeting. Do your jobs, ok? Don't bother us, just... handle it, alright? Thank you. Every second counts and all that bullshit." Richie nodded towards the staff, shutting Carmen's office door behind him.

"Carm, you... Are you ok?" Natalie winced, looking at her younger brother.

Carmen ran his hands over his eyes, slumped in his desk chair, knees bouncing nervously. His breaths labored and ragged in his hands. Richie's eyes cut to Natalie's.

"Cousin," Richie's voice was softer this time. "What is goin' on?"

Carmen took a shaky breath in, Richie stilling at the sound of his emotions. "You... You were right. I fucked up." Carmen muttered. "I fucked up. I fucked up so bad." Carmen's voice was tight, thick with tears he was trying to choke back.

Natalie stepped forward slowly. "Carmen, what did you do?" She said as calmly as she could. "Just-Just tell us, and we'll... we'll try and help you."

"Did you cheat on her?" Richie asked, brows furrowed in disgust.

"No, what? Why the... No, no, no, I-I..." Carmen leaned back in the chair, hands knotted in his hair. "She's pregnant."

Richie and Natalie paused, both sighing slightly in relief. "Oh my God, that's great!"

"Yeah, I mean, Cousin, I thought you... I'm glad you didn't, but that's great!"

"Aw, is that why she's been sick? Poor thing. I knew it! You know Pete said that, and I-" Natalie started, Carmen's sudden jerk of his body, sitting in the chair with frantic eyes stopped her.

"I don't know!" Carmen blurted, shaking his head, refusing to look at them. At their furrowed brows of concern. He couldn't face them. Tell them what he'd done.

"You don't know?" Sugar frowned in confusion. "You don't know if she's pregnant?"

"I-I..." Carmen felt his chest tightening, burning with that familiar ache. He tried to breathe in, slow and long, counting back from ten like his therapist told him, but his chest still ached. "I left."

The room filled with that same eerie silence, the one that seemed to be following him around lately. The one that crept into the room when you showed him the ultrasound, the same one that followed him into the restaurant last night.

"You left?"

"You fuckin' what?"

Natalie and Richie gawked, eyes wide and frantic, looking down at Carmen.

"Cousin... What the fuck? You don't... Holy shit." Richie muttered, shaking his head.

"Carmen, have you lost your mind?" Natalie snapped. She was angry- no, furious. "You left your wife? You left your pregnant wife?"

"Yes, fuck, yes, I just... I needed to fuckin' think!" Carmen threw his hands out. "I can't think! She just... We weren't planning it and-and then... I just needed to think!"

"Then think at home! Or-Or with the person you're having a baby with, Carmen, Jesus!" Natalie roared back.

"Cousin, you... you fucked up." Richie said solemnly, nodding in agreement. "I mean, I've done a lot of shit. A lot, ok? Just ask Tiff. But I...I never fuckin' left."

"No, she just fuckin' left you, right? Tiff couldn't take you bein' an-"

"Hey, woah, take it fuckin' easy, Cousin. Watch it. This ain't about me." Richie snarled, finger jabbing in Carmen's direction. "I didn't fuck this up, ok? You did. This is your shit. We're just tryin' to fuckin' help you, so why don't you do all that de-escelatin' bullshit and take a fuckin' breath and relax."

Carmen's teeth ground tight, eyes flickering over to Natalie. "I'm with Richie on this." She snapped. "You did fuck up. Huge."

Carmen could feel the burn, rising in his throat. Was it fear? Vomit? Tears? Regret? All of the above?

"I know, I know, fuck, I know." Carmen muttered, falling back into the chair. "I just... I know, and-and now I don't know..." Carmen could feel his heart rate, waves of guilt and realization crashing over him, leaving him feeling sick.

Carmen stood quickly, hands tangled in his hair, pacing in the small area of the office. "Holy shit, she's gonna leave me. She-She's gonna leave me, and-and... Fuck! Why do I always do this? I always fuck up! Always! Like... What the fuck? Why-Why-"

"-Carmen." Sugar said slowly, hands on his shoulders, stopping him. "Hey, breathe. Breathe. Just... Just relax, ok?"

"No, no, no, I-I can't fuckin' relax. I-I got to-" Carmen rambled, his chest squeezing, burning.

"Carm, look, just... Just do the breathing thing. Listen to Natalie." Richie nodded towards Sugar. "And we'll get it handled, alright? We can't fix this until you calm the fuck down."

"Richie," Natalie hissed, rolling her eyes in irritation. "Carmen, breath in through your nose, out through your mouth. Innnnn and Out." She mimicked for him, slow pulls of air and soft exhales.

Carmen could hear you. Hear you in his head telling him to calm down, feel your hands on his cheeks, your soft praises and coos. His heart ached but it tricked his mind enough to listen, shaky rasps of air falling in and out until he was on sitting in the chair, knee bouncing with adrenaline.

Natalie shook her head lightly, looking over at Richie, then Carmen. "You need to go talk to her."

"I know. I know, Nat, but I got a dinner rush-"

"Carmen." Natalie sneered, in that tone. The tone she used usually with her own kids. A tone of finality.

"I got it covered, Cousin, alright? I got it." Richie nodded, patting Carmen on his back. "Just... Go figure your shit out."

"Yeah." Natalie huffed, eyes narrowed at her younger brother. "You better bring that poor girl some flowers or something. Better make it up to her, Carmen, that is so gross of you."

Carmen nodded softly, grabbing his back pack, shedding his apron. "I-I'll have my phone on me-"

"-Go!" Richie and Natalie yelled in unison.

"I got it, Cousin." Richie shook his head.

"Yeah, and you have other things to worry about." Natalie snapped. "More important things, like your marriage, and your kid."

Carmen's heart skipped at that. It sounded weird, unnatural. His kid. Mind racing back to images of you with his niece and nephew. How Chelle took to you so naturally when you first met her, cradling her in your arms while Natalie scampered off for a shower. Carmen's heart swelled at the thought, how he had watched you, how good you were at it.

He knew you'd be a good mom. Had no doubt about that. That wasn't the issue. No, the problem was him.

Carmen Berzatto, who's family was the epitome of chaos, and who's genes this baby would have. Would the baby have your eyes and his crippling anxiety? His curls and his coping skills? Your nose and smile, and his family's addiction gene?

You would be the perfect mom. You were already so perfect in every way to Carmen. Too kind and forgiving and funny and sweet to him, he couldn't understand why you loved him sometimes. You would be good no matter what.

You'd be better without him.

His mind screamed it over and over. He couldn't shake the thought last night, sitting on the steps of your home, chain smoking through half a pack while his mind raced, horrible voices mocking and sneering at him, telling him he wasn't good enough; that he wouldn't be good enough. That you would be better off alone.

Then he was walking. Walking as fast as he could away from your home, back to the restaurant, where he could distract himself. Where he could trick his mind to focus on anything else other than you.

It didn't work, of course. It never did.

His mind still raced, all the way back to your home- his home. The home he shared with you. The place you bought for the future; your future together. A future that now, looked like it would be a little fuller.

You gripped the porcelain of the toilet seat, stomach lurching again, spilling the contents of- you didn't even know what. How there was anything left, you weren't sure.

Your nose burned with tears, head drumming with a dull ache, throat burning with the acidity flare of bile. And worst of all, the only person you wanted was Carmen.

You were furious, hurt, just... confused with him, but your body still ached for him. For him to come in, rub your back and coo at you. Settle you and calm you, like he always did.

The front door closed softly, the thud of the latch echoing through the all too still house. Anchovy chirped and trilled, Carmen's soft, raspy greeting back to him making your body jolt.

You stayed still, waiting and quiet with each muffled footstep of Carmen's, his sneakers falling closer and closer until the door opened gently. Your gaze on his, watching him with wide, red rimmed eyes from the bathroom floor. His own reflecting down on you, hand still gripping the door knob.

"You... You're still sick?" Carmen asked, awkward and unsure. He didn't know what to say, where to even begin.

"Yeah." You sneered, hand slapping on the knob, flushing the toilet. "Guess that'll be happening for a while."

Carmen flinched at your tone. You were angry. No, you were hurt. The revelation made him feel like he needed to throw up next, the ache in his stomach rivaling the one in his chest.

You pushed up off the tub, Carmen's hands reaching to help you. You slapped them away with a menacing scoff. "Don't touch me." You snapped. "I've got it."

Carmen nodded, backing out slowly, giving you space to brush your teeth. He didn't miss the tremor in your hands when you held the toothbrush, refusing to meet his eyes in the mirror.

"I..." Carmen's voice shook, a squeak of a word that had wobbled when he spoke. "I, uh, I-I'm sorry."

Your eyes flashed to his furiously, lips pursing. "I know that's... fuck, that's not..." Carmen sighed heavily, a grounding breath to soothe his nerves, get the shake out of his voice. "I don't know what-what else to say other than... I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" You sneered, turning to him, your tone unnervingly calm. "You're fucking sorry?"

"Yeah, I-"

"-You left me!" You roared, chest heaving with fury. Your fears and sadness had turned into rage, pure rage.

"I go outside to check on you, and you're gone! Who the fuck does that, Carmen? What the fuck is wrong with you?" You screamed.

"I-I don't know, I just..." Carmen's chest tightened, strangling his words. The pounding in his chest had returned, as had the queasiness in his stomach.

"You just? Just what, Carmen? Just don't want to be with me anymore?" Your voice cracked, tears brimming your waterline.

The silence was back. Uncomfortably loud and suffocating. Neither one of you moved, just stared at each other through heaving chests.

"I-I..." Carmen swallowed the bile rising in his throat. "How could you... You think I-I don't want to be with you?"

"Well, what else am I supposed to think, Carmen?" You scoffed, throwing your hands out in exasperation. "You left!"

Carmen winced at the harshness of your tone. "I didn't... I just needed to think-"

"-Think?" You scoffed. "Think about what exactly, Carmen? Huh? Whether you were going to stay-"

"-No! Fuck, no!" Carmen barked, mind racing and overwhelmed. Hands trembling, heart pounding, he stared at you. "About... About how it would be. About how I would be."

"How you would be?"

"Yeah, how I would be." Carmen snaps, a little too defensive even for his own liking. It was habit, even after years of trying to be better, it still crept out at times.

Carmen took a breath, turning to you. "I'm... I don't think I'm going to be a good dad."

Your own heart sunk, a dull ache in your chest, heavy with the weight of his words. The fall of his face, lips curling downward. "Carmen," You said softly. "Why-Why would you... We've talked about having kids before."

"Yeah, but not... I thought I had time." Carmen admitted, hands shaking when he crossed his arms over his chest to still them. "I-I thought I would have some time to-to get my shit together."

You paused, watching his face crumble. The deep breath he took to keep himself from crying- from breaking. "I don't- I don't wanna be a bad dad. I don't wanna fuck this kid up." Carmen whispered, eyes darting everywhere but your own. He couldn't look at you when he said it, sure when he saw the sorrow in your own eyes he would crumble at your feet.

"Carmen," You said softly, taking a step towards him. He took one back, distancing himself. He knew what you were going to do. Reach out and comfort him, make him feel better- he didn't deserve that.

"Carm, please," You begged lightly. "You... You know you're gonna be a good dad-"

"-No, no, I don't know that." Carmen scoffed, shaking his head. "I mean, my fuckin' dad was a piece of shit, so was his dad, so-so will I. And-And I don't wanna do that to this kid. I don't wanna do that to you."

"Stop." You snapped, lips pressed together, sniffling to keep your own tears at bay. "Just...Just stop. Ok? Stop. You're... Do you really think I would have married you if I thought that bad of you? Do you think I would have ever even entertained the thought of having a baby with you, starting a family, if I thought you'd be shitty?"

Carmen's own eyes shone with unshed tears. You blinked, wiping the hot tears that ran down your cheeks away. "I'm scared, too. I-I called Alicia over you because I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how you would react." You admitted.

Carmen nodded, you could see the hurt in his eyes. "So you knew I would react like this? You didn't tell me because you knew I'd be a bad-"

"-No, I didn't tell you because I know you don't like surprises." You snapped. "I know you don't like to be fuckin' blindsided and-and shocked. I don't either. I knew it would shock you. I knew it wasn't apart of our plan right now." You held his gaze, eyes hard when you met his.

"But I never thought you'd be a bad dad." Your tone was firm. It made Carmen's heart swell. "I still don't think you'd be a bad dad, for the record. I think you're an asshole, and I'm furious with you." You said pointedly.

Carmen nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I... I don't blame you f'that." He muttered, looking down at his hands, wedding band shining almost mockingly back up at him. "Sugar's pissed at me. Richie, too." He paused, eyes lifting to yours. "I'm mad at me too."

"Yeah? Me too." You sigh, looking at him. "You can't just leave-"

"-I know." Carmen nodded. "I-I know. I don't... I'm sorry." Carmen looked at you, shoulders falling slightly. "I'm so sorry."

You nodded gently, wiping your eyes with the back of your hands. "This is not how I thought this would go, honestly." You admitted with a small, wet laugh.

"Which part?" Carmen hummed, hesitantly reaching out to wipe your tear stained cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"All of it." You sighed. "But telling you. I-I always thought I'd do one of those cute, little Pinteresty things and surprise you."

"Yeah? 'm sorry." Carmen muttered, his heart fluttering with guilt again. "Maybe next time?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him. Damn him, making you smile when you were supposed to be mad at him- you were still mad at him. But you were tired even more. Exhausted emotionally, physically- you just wanted to crawl into bed.

Carmen pulled you closer to him, his hand running down your spine. "Maybe you can do that cutesy shit to tell everyone else." He suggested. "I mean... Fuck, well, I-I told Richie and-and Sugar, but... Tina? Or all them?"

You bit back a smile, the curl of your lips betraying you. "Yeah." You hum, your body betraying you as you sunk into Carmen's chest.

"Here," Carmen muttered, pulling you close to him. "I'll get you in bed, and I'll go on the couch-"

"-No," You sighed, shuffled steps down the hall. "I don't... Just sleep in the bed with me."

Carmen hesitated. "No, I-I can stay on the couch. I know you don't-"

"-I can't sleep without you, Carm." You pleaded. "I didn't sleep at all last night, and-and... I just want to sleep."

Carmen nodded, following you into the shared bedroom. Stripping out of his jeans, trading them for sweatpants, before climbing in the bed with you. You stayed on your side, Carmen on his own. There was still tension, still lingering feelings of that familiar eeriness, but there was also comfortability.

Carmen would make it up to you. He'd be at every appointment, paint the nursery- be everything you knew he would be. Later. In the coming weeks as you two welcomed, embraced the baby coming. You'd get to tell everyone in your cutesy way like you'd dreamed. Tina's reaction would make you cry, and the baby shower would make you sob. You'd mull over baby names for hours with Carmen, going back and forth, testing each name tentatively until you found the perfect one.

For now, you were happy just to know Carmen was here with you. You were happy just to sleep. There was still so much ahead of you- of both of you.

[rxmqnova]

Hay:)

Can you write something like Natasha and Reader in high school. Nat having her reputation of course and her friends, which is really important to her while reader is more of the outcast and "an easy target" for Nats friends. Nat does laugh along of course for the sake of her reputation. But the second they're alone Nat gets all submissive almost begging for her girlfriends/readers attention and touch. It's just how they work.

Are you done yet?

NO ONE'S POV Opening her locker to take her books for the next lesson, Y/N doesn't notice the group making her way over to her.

"Well, well, well. Look who's that" Tony's annoying voice rings through the girl's ears, making her roll her eyes and just ignore them.

And it works for a few seconds until her locker gets shut right in front of her face by the youngest and newest memeber of that group, Peter.

Y/N glares at the younger boy, turning around to walk away but locking her eyes with none other than Natasha, her girlfriend.

It's been over a year since the two started dating, yet they still haven't told anyone. While Natasha's the 'popular' one, Y/N is the 'outcast' and those two groups just don't mix, that's the rule.

But it still happened when the two were assigned for a project together last year. They spent a lot of time working on it together and Natasha realized that Y/N is actually a really sweet girl.

Though Natasha still wants to keep her 'reputation', so they haven't told anyone and the group keeps making Y/N's life a living hell. And even though Y/N sees Natasha's point, it just annoys her. Luckily, it's only for the next few months and then they'll be both out of that school.

A pair of strong arms stops the girl from walking away. Turning around she finds another group member… Steve.

"Alright, let's get this over with" She sighs out. "What is it today? Is there anything wrong with my hair? My clothes? My make-up?" She raises an eyebrow, having enough of this. Every single day it's the same and Y/N is so done with it.

"Everything! You look like a clown!" Peter blurts out, desperately trying to fit in.

"Nice. Thanks. Is that all? Can I go?" Y/N questions annoyed.

"No" Tony says, making the girl let out another sigh. Suddenly he just takes Y/N's books, throwing them on the ground on which the entire group laughs, including Natasha who doesn't think that's funny but just laughs along anyway.

"Idiots" Y/N sighs, kneeling down to pick up her books once the group is gone.

———

"Hey" Natasha smiles softly at her girlfriend who only just opened the door for her, standing at the porch of Y/N's house. "Are you okay after this morning?"

"Why wouldn't I be? Your friends are just a bunch of idiots. Come in" Y/N brushes it off, stepping aside, so Natasha could come in.

"I'm sorry they're acting like that to you" Natasha sighs, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend and pulling her in for a warm hug.

"It's fine, Nat. Really. I'm used to it. I would have been much happier if you said something, but I know how much you care about your reputation. I'm currently finishing writing my essay, I'll just finish it real quick and get right back to you" Y/N smiles, leading the redhead upstairs to her bedroom.

"How about a movie?" Natasha suggests. She absolutely loves cuddling with her girlfriend, so watching a movie is definitely a great opportunity to get some cuddles.

"Sounds good. You can choose one while I finish the essay" Y/N smiles, pecking Natasha's lips with a kiss before walking over to her desk and sitting down while Natasha takes a seat on bed.

It takes only a few minutes until Natasha has the movie chosen and even switched on the TV. Now she's just sitting on her girlfriend's bed, watching as Y/N's typing some words to her computer.

"Are you nearly done?" Natasha asks impatiently, making her girlfriend chuckle.

"Nearly, just need to write the ending" Y/N shoots her girlfriend a quick smile before turning around and getting back to writing.

Natasha only hums in response, deciding to check up what's new on Instagram while waiting. And once again it doesn't last long.

She sighs, standing up and walking over to her girlfriend, wrapping arms around her and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"Are you done yet?"

"Gosh, you're like a child" Y/N lets out a chuckle, pressing a kiss to Natasha's hand. "You asked me like 3 minutes ago"

Making Natasha sigh, Y/N gets back to writing once again, though the way Natasha's impatiently waiting and scanning the screen of her laptop is kinda distracting.

"Natty, can you just wait on the bed for me? You're distracting me a bit. I need to concentrate" Y/N says as nicely as possible, receiving a whine from her girlfriend.

"Can't you just finish it later? I want to cuddle with you" Natasha says with a sigh, pulling her girlfriend up.

"It's due tomorrow, Nat. I really need to finish it. I promise it won't take more than 10 minutes" Y/N sighs, gently pushing Natasha to sit on her bed before going back to her previous seat.

"You're so mean" Natasha sighs once again, a pout on her face on which Y/N can't help but laugh a little.

Natasha's growing impatience just doesn't allow her to wait. She asks the same question 'Are you done yet?' nearly every 2 minutes until Y/N finally finishes.

"Finally, can I get my cuddles now?" Natasha questions, her eyebrow raising which makes Y/N chuckle.

"Now you can get as many cuddles as you want"

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

Natasha Romanoff masterlist

Masterlist

[laxxarian]

Dani is trying to convince Bruce that she already has a family but the man was unconvinced.

Being Batman, he patrols at night together with Robin and from time to time, he'd see Dani sleeping at abandoned buildings or under a bridge of some kind.

Each time he sees the girl sleeping here and there, he'd wake the little girl and convince her to at least seek shelter maybe at someone's certain house but that got Dani giving flashbacks of Vlad and his creepy way of talking.

Vlad changed and all but still creepy.

Now Dani is deciding to go back to Amity Park cuz she already has seen the parts of Gotham but before she leaves, she bids farewell to Bruce at first. Going to his mansion and all, saying goodbye and to his kids.

Saying that she's going to Amity Park to be with her family but Bruce wasn't convinced, why? Because in their data, Amity Park doesn't exist.

This whole thing is suspicious so he plans to follow the girl as she goes back home as Batman.

Dani also waited around where Batman usually patrols at night to say goodbye cuz why not? She didn't want to let the guy get worried seeing as how the man would keep trying to help her.

She didn't want him thinking that she might be dead, well, she is, but they don't know that.

So after the goodbyes and all that. Dani waits for a bus, why? She wants to experience using a public transport and because of that, Batman gets to follow the girl easily but little did he know, Dani could actually hear and see perfectly fine because of her ghost powers that Batman was following her. A bit creeped out but she understands.

The bus stopped at nowhere but home was close, Dani just needed to walk, usually she flies but a bat was following her.

Dani contacted Danny to get her and also informed him that a certain dude just won't go away.

And then blah blah blah, Batman was caught by Danny.

Danny: why are you following us?

Batman: !?

Dani: don't worry, Danny, he's a superhero too

Danny: *looks up and down* ....I see...

Batman now gets to see Amity Park and now that he knows where it is and confirmed the girl's safety. He left.

Then researched about Amity Park back at his mancave but bats themed.

Batman found out that the GIW were keeping the place a secret, not that they were doing illegal but to protect the ghosts from any other people.

After the GIW found out about Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom, they started to open their eyes and sees how good can ghosts be and is actively helping Danny now.

But Batman doesn't know such real reason and theorized they were trying to keep a meta human a secret so they could get Phantom without anyone knowing about it.

So, Batman called the young justice team to go out and investigate.

Strange things that the team found out was that Amity Parkers doesn't care about what's going on the outside of their homes and that's mostly due to ghosts and the only hero their is also a ghost. Not wanting for anymore villains, they all decided not to attract anymore people from getting here and give the Parkers more trouble.

What they also found out was that the residents may be clueless and blind at some times, they were all fascinatingly fast learners when it comes to fighting and also fleeing.

The team also gets to meet Phantom, a cheerful guy and Dani (human form) who was talking casually with him.

[raineydays411]

My Fathers' Daughter pt 13

Hello everyone! Can I just say thank you to everyone for the love and support! Thank you everyone for sticking by me while I took a break. Thank you everyone for the kind messages and ideas. I'm the type of person that needs positive reassurance so really, it's you guys that are the reason I returned to writing.

For the first time in months you felt at peace.

Ironically, it was when you were shoved in a stinky backseat of a dirty taxi. But you were in a stinky taxi with people you truly love.

And Dopinder.

But even he's better than being in that house right now. Anything truly is.

"Hey" A soft voice breaks your thoughts, you turn from where you're looking out the window.

Peter was gazing at you with concern in his eyes. He had his own reservations about coming to get you, that's why Wade had decided to kidnap him. But seeing you, practically throw yourself into him and cry?! He didn't need any more convincing than that.

One thing Y/n Stark does not do is let people see her cry.

"Are you okay?" He asks, knowing that you're not but he knows that you won't tell him if he doesn't ask.

You take a look into his eyes, seeing concern. Then from the corner of your eye you see Wade turn his head an inch, trying to subtly listen in without giving away the fact that he cares about you.

"I'm.." You pause, feeling a knot in your throat, " I'm just really craving a burger."

"What the dick?!" Wade screams from the front, startling all of you in the car, and causing Dopinder to swerve, " We came here for emotional support goddamn it, let us support your emotions!!"

You chuckle at the outburst, mood momentarily lifting, " You can support me by getting me something to eat outside this taxi. It reeks back here...no offense Dopi"

"Non taken Ms. Stark, I am well aware of the unpleasant scents in the back."

Dopinder makes a stop at what looks like a local burger joint in the city , allowing you and Peter to take a breath of fresh air.

Or at least as fresh as Gotham city air could be.

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

Back at the Manor, Christine and Bruce are having a long overdue conversation about you and her relationship.

" I just don't understand where everything went so wrong" Christine cried, face held in her hands," I just don't"

"Perhaps when you stopped visiting her when we adopted Dick" Bruce said in a semi sarcastic semi serious voice.

Christine shot a glare to her husband, " I'm glad you find the destruction of my relationship with my daughter funny Bruce, I really do."

Bruce sighs from where he's standing, " I don't find it amusing one bit, but Christine you have to admit this situation is your fault."

"I know it is! Believe me I know" Christine shouts, " These last few months, all I've been reminded is that it's my fault!"

"But where is your accountability?" Bruce asks, " I don't hold what you did against you because it's not my place. The kids don't because quite frankly, this hasn't affected them except for Cassie who thinks you're replacing her, and Damian, who sees you sad and believes Y/n is the sole cause of it."

Christine sighs, the few months you have been in the home, she has noticed Cassie's jealousy towards you and the resentment for the situation. She's done her best to reassure her that she has enough love for the two of you girls, but she still insisted on being as far away from you as possible. Damian...Damian is young and perceptive but difficult so she isn't so worried about him.

"If Y/n just spent time with them--"

"It isn't her responsibility to reassure your children that she isn't taking you away from them. Hell Christine, it isn't her responsibility to make anything easier for you." Bruce says impatiently, " I have been holding my tongue because you're my wife above anything and I am on your side. But being a husband and on your side means that I have a responsibility to tell you when you are wrong."

"Then tell me Bruce, tell me what I'm doing wrong. Please beacause every move I make, I just mess things up." Christine cries, genuienly asking for her husbands help

Bruce looks Christine in the eye, " Well first, you have to stop forcing your motherhood on that poor girl"

He holds a hand up before Christine can say anything, " I know that biologically you are her mother, but you know as well as I do that biological relation has no meaning."

Christine nods, allowing Bruce to continue

"The child you knew is not the young lady you want to get to know." Bruce says sternly, " She has life experiences that you were not a part of, and most of all she's not looking for a mother, Christine she has one. It's just not you."

Christine bursts into tears, the weight of that statement hitting her heart. Bruce gathers her in his arms.

"You need to get to know Y/n not as the child you left behind but as Y/n. That's what all of us need to do."

Christine weeps silently in her husbands chest, truly absorbing his words.

She knows he's right. He usually is.

But it hurts her. She truly has to acknowledge the one thing she has ever been ashamed about. The one thing that she has been repressing and repressing all these years.

That she abandoned you.

She abandoned you. She abandoned you when you were six and she didn't show up to the mothers day dance.

She abandoned you when you were eight and she promise dthat she would take you to get your ears pierced and she didn't show up because of a phone call.

And she abandoned you when you were nine, and she adopted Dick.

"What I don't think I understand is why?" Bruce asked quietly.

All these years, she said it was because she was needed more at the manor rather than in New York. But why did she really?

"Why?" Christine repeats quietly, " I..."

Why did she? What on earth possessed her to do the one thing she promised she'd never do the day you were born.

"I don't know." She says, " I.. spent years, hiding this huge secret from you. Years taking back and forth trips from here to New York, pretending she didn't exist or pretending like you didn't. I just..."

Bruce hums, urging her to continue

" And seeing the disappointment every time I left and didn't take her or disappointment from Tony that I didn't choose them. " She teared up, she hadn't even thought about the pain she put that man through, " Then it was the disappointment from Dick everytime I left. It got too.."

"Too hard." Bruce finished for Christine,

" Yeah," Christine sighed, " I just wanted to stop all the lying and the double lives, but by the time it became too much...it was too deep and I was scared I'd lose it all."

Bruce stayed quiet holding his wife, "I would've hoped that you had enough faith in me to tell me"

Christine scoffed, " Please, do you really believe that at that time you would've forgiven me? Before Damian?"

Bruce sighed, " I guess not."

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

As the conversation between Bruce and Christine went on, the kids were having one of their own.

"I don't understand what's so good about her anyway" Cass mumbles, " All she's done since she's been here is cause trouble"

"Yeah like any of us made Ma's life easy since we got here?" Jason spits back defending you, " Dick you didn't even talk to Ma because of your fight with Bruce, I died, Tim didn't even consider her a mother for years, Damian..is damian and hated her for months, plus is a product of Bruce cheating, and you Cass, you almost killed her before you became family."

Everyone stayed silent as Jason basically read them to filth.

"Why?" Damian asks quietly, " Why does everyone like that girl so much?"

"She's just had a hard go of it Damian, just like all of us." Dick said softly, " Think about how you felt when your mother stopped coming around. When you came here and didn't know anyone."

Damian stayed quiet.

"I know you love Mom, I do too" Dick continued, " But the hostility towards Y/n has to end. From all of us."

They stood quiet, letting the words sink in.

"I have been quite pleasant towards her actually" Jason said smugly

"Yeah cause you think with your dick and not your brain" Tim said smartly, only to receive a slap on the back of his head.

"That's my sister you fucking idiot" Jason says angrily.

Dick smiled, glad that at least one person was truly and genuinely on your side in this house, even if it's not him.

" How about we take her out?" Dick says, " Both her and Mom need some space, there's no point in her staying in that room all day and night."

Jason nods," Yeah, that's actually a good idea."

The two oldest sons rise, about to head to you room when Damian speaks up

"You won't find her there."

The boys pause and look at him

"What did you do to her you demon?" Jason says suspiciously

Damian rolls his eyes, " I've done nothing of the sort, but I saw her sneak out and leave in a taxi with an Indian man, a man in a red suit and unfortunate looking face, and a teenager in hello kitty sleeping pants."

Silence.

"Okay, if you're having a stroke please let me know so I can take you to the hospital." Tim said looking concerned.

Damian rolled his eyes again, " She left."

Jason was already barging into your room not even bothering to knock, seeing your room empty and the window open.

"Fuck."

Dick raced in after him seeing the empty room

"Well fuck."

They look at eachother, wondering who was going to tell their mother that you were gone but it was actually Damian that suggested

"Perhaps we should go after her? Mother and Father seemed rather preoccupied at the moment."

Jason looked at Dick and said, " She couldn't have gotten too far."

"Well, it has been a couple hours since she left." Damian adds

"Hours?!" Dick shouts, " Damian why didn't you say anything?"

"I don't like her." Damian rolls his eyes.

"Where's Y/n?" a voice asks

All heads turned to the doorway, seeing their father standing there.

"Um... about that."

"Find her, and you all better hope she's okay."

Everyone scrambled, either to put their suits on or to just make it out of the house.

He said that with his Batman voice.

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

Back with you and the red team, as Wade took to calling you all, you all were eating burgers in the parking lot of the now closed burger joint.

" So are you going to tell us what happend or what?" Wade ask with food falling from his stuffed mouth.

You and Peter look on with disgust.

"What?" Wade asks, " Go on and tell us about your mommy issues."

You roll your eyes and look away, missing the look Peter gives to Wade for being to crass.

You get lost in thought, the argument still fresh on your mind.

It made you so angry.

Why? Why did she hide those emails?

The one thing you wanted most in this whole situation was to go home. You missed your father, your mother, the team. Your family.

Instead, she made you believe that your father just forgot about you and your family didn't miss you.

While you knew logically that was impossible, you still stood up late at night because of the doubts creeping in. You cried, longing to hear your father croon rock music while he was tinkering with something, or the soft voice of your mother as she handled some business. You missed the smell of the training room and the sound of Steve teasing whoever he chose to tourture train that day. You missed FRIDAY. The tech. Your life.

"What happened in there" Peter asked softly.

You maintain eye contact with him for about a second before looking away, feeling ashamed with your emotional state.

"I couldn't take it anymore" You said softly, "These people...they weren't... they weren't mean to me or anything but I didn't belong there."

You take a pause then continue, " It's like... I had no purpose there. You know? At home, I help dad with whatever he needs, I helped mom with the business, hell I could just take a step outside. But here? I'm either in my room or being snuck out by Jason for a few hours. I can't go into a room without killing the happy family vibe they have going on. I'm just..."

You choke up, the knot in your throat growing, "I'm just a reminder of the past. Of the life she didn't want."

Peter's eyes soften even more, he reached out a comforting hand.

"I have to be there, while she and her family are happy then I walk in and it's like I'm either a ghost or a pest." You cry tears falling from your eye, " I feel so unwanted. I've never felt this way in my life."

"Didn't your mom abandon you?" Wade asks, getting an elbow to the side by Dopinder.

That comment causes you to cry more, but before Peter can make a move Wade actually pulls you in a hug.

"Alright Alright" Wade says, " Look kid, obviously you're happy there, so how about we go find those asshole that are looking for you and take them out ourselves?"

You sniff and look up at him, " What?"

"Yeah. That's the whole reason you're here. So lets kill those motherfucker and you can go home and forget this shit hole of a city. Seriously it's disgusting here."

You chuckle wetly, " It is gross here. I thought New york was bad"

The four of you laugh, the mood finally lifting.

But good moments never last forever.

Peter's head jerks up, face shifting from amusement to concern

"Guys there's something wro-" Peter gets cut off.

"How about we make it easier for you, now you don't have to look for us." A voice says, you aren't able to see it before you feel Wades body jerk and suddenly there's a pain in your arm.

You look down and see a dart, and you're barely able to make out the blue and red dots on the building across the street before darkness consumes you and you hit the ground.