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pascalpvnk · 9 months

Text

first few dates

pairing: no outbreak!joel miller x f!afab!reader

summary: a late night grocery trip isn’t usually that exciting, unless you crush a carton of eggs on the cutest man in the store…

word count: 4.3k

warnings: 18+ MDNI, strangers to lovers, swearing, location and ages not specified (imo joel is in his 30s renaissance era), no mention of sarah, sex on first date, insecurity, food & alcohol consumption, reader makes chicken alfredo (so sorry to my restrictive diet baddies, it’s one of the only things I can cook 😞), smut x2 (dubcon due to alcohol consumption but consensual, truck sex, fingering, dirty talk, size kink if you squint, handsy joel, unprotected p in v sex, cream pie)/(reader wears lingerie and a dress, body worship, oral (f receiving), one spank, thigh and butt biting & marks, joel “claiming” reader, allusions to more sex after scene), no use of y/n, half self beta’d, half by @mrsswilliams (thank you pookie ily)

a/n: this is a very self indulgent piece so take it with a grain of salt. don’t perceive the date part please 😭. i hope you enjoy! dividers by @saradika-graphics

masterlist

Fluorescent lights beat against your corneas in the somewhat vacant corner shop. The occasional scanner beep sounded from across the store. You scoured the aisles, ticking off items from your list left and right. The time was flying as your cart piled up and you made record time while shopping.

You picked up a half dozen eggs, opening them to make sure none of them were broken or cracked. Upon the first look, they seemed perfectly fine. You inspected each one individually as you made your way back to your cart.

You weren’t expecting him at all when you ventured out into the night for a procrastinated grocery trip.

“Oh my god,” you exclaimed as you bumped into something solid, causing clattering chaos. “Shit, shit, I’m so sorry.”

You looked up at what, or rather who, you bumped into. You were met with a shocked man, his puppy brown eyes melting the thick ice protecting your heart. His hand was light on your forearm, steadying yours and his balance. He wasn’t quite able to stop himself from knocking over a bin of DVDs on display.

Your eyes landed on the huge egg yolk stain on his shirt, the eggs that missed splattered on the ground. Of course he was wearing a light colored shirt, just your luck.

Regret showered over you. Not only did you disturb this beautiful stranger, you left a giant stain on his once clean shirt and knocked over a display all over the place.

“You a’right?” He simply asked, knocking the breath out of your lungs with two words. The deep timbre and twang of his voice sent your head in a spiral.

“I’m fine, I’m so sorry,” you repeated, picking up the mess of movies you made. “I should’ve been paying attention.”

“S’alright, accidents happen,” he chuckled, helping you with said mess. Fuck, his eyes were pretty. The corners crinkled with his laughter and the deep chocolate hue his irises held. Everything about him looked so good. And he was unconditionally kind?

You couldn’t feel more embarrassed.

Once everything was picked up and replaced as it was before, he offered you another friendly smile as well as his hand.

“Joel,” he grinned, his hand enveloping yours in a warm handshake. You offered the same sentiment of your name, holding onto his hand for a little too long.

“Well Joel, once again I’m very sorry. I wish I could make it up to you…I kinda ruined your shirt,” you fully cringed at the mess on his light colored Henley…which accentuated his muscles deliciously…but that wasn’t the point.

“I have plenty of stained shirts, darlin’, no need to sweat it. But hey, maybe you could buy me a beer sometime,” he suggested, a bashful expression on his face. A blush bloomed across the apples of his cheeks and on his neck before disappearing down his collar.

Eyes. He can see where your eyes are staring, you reminded yourself.

“Absolutely,” you smiled softly. You swear you saw a twinkle in his eye as his face lit up. “I can’t tonight…but I can give you my number and we can figure something out.”

After exchanging numbers, you parted ways from Joel with a stupid grin on your face. You turned back for a moment to see him, catching his gaze as he was doing the same.

Fuck the dating apps, fuck the set ups. This was your moment, and you were going to take it by the reins and ride off into the sunset.

You almost talked yourself out of it. The day after you bumped into and made a fool of yourself to Joel, he texted you and asked to make plans for Friday. He initiated it. It was so refreshing to be asked out instead of doing the asking for once.

You arrived about ten minutes early, scoping out the pub from your car. It was only seven o’clock, but the sky was pitch black, a couple stars illuminating through the atmosphere. Clouds rolled across the sky, an impending snow storm creeping over you.

A small pickup rolled across the parking lot, stopping in a spot away from the entrance. Right on time. His mop of dark curls appeared first, then his broad shoulders which were impossibly broader with his winter coat. The sound of your car door closing had his head whipping around, a goofy smile plastered on his lips as he made his way over to you with his hands in his pockets.

“Evenin’,” the southern man grinned. “Hope you weren’t waitin’ here too long.”

Joel greeted you with a welcoming hug, warmth radiating from him even through the bitter cold of the evening. His skin emanated a freshly showered scent, accentuated by the woody aroma of his cologne. It wasn’t overpowering or headache inducing, just perfect.

He led you two inside the bar with a timid hand on the small of your back and a lopsided grin. Was he nervous too?

“Hey, Miller!” The bartender announced happily as you stepped into the inviting environment. The man caught your eye and gave a small wave, welcoming you two into his tavern.

“How’s it going, Rob?” Joel beamed. “We’re gon’ do two beers. My usual and….”

“I’ll do a Blue Moon,” you stated, smiling politely at the bartender.

You turned towards the card reader, but Joel slipped his card to Rob to start a tab before you even had a chance to reach for yours.

“Hey!” You laughed, swatting his arm playfully. “It was supposed to be on me for ruining your shirt.”

“Sorry, darlin’. I can’t let a beautiful lady pay on a first date,” he crooned, removing his debit card as it prompted him. “That is…if this is a date.”

Oh that cheeky bastard.

“Yes,” you smiled bashfully, thanking the bartender as he passed over your beverages.

Joel led you to a booth towards the back of the bar and took a seat across from you. It was very evident that both of you were nervous.

“So,” he started, trailing off of the word and tapping his fingers on the table. God, small talk is the worst.

“I gotta admit, it’s been a while since I’ve gone out so I’m a little rusty,” Joel chuckled, taking a sip from his glass.

“S’okay, we can figure it out together, huh?” You offered a sweet smile, wanting to break the tension. “Hmm…what’s your favorite movie, and do you think you could star in it?”

Joel huffed a chuckle, tilting his head in thought.

“Curtis and Viper 2,” he smiled. “But I probably couldn’t star in it. M’not badass like those guys. My only skills are hammerin’ ‘n drinkin’.”

“Aw come on, don’t sell yourself short,” you chuckled. “What do you like to do besides hammering and drinking?”

A couple rounds later, you and Joel were giggling with one another and bumping your shoes under the table. You felt like a bubbly teen again with him, he was already bringing out the best in you. But along with feeling like a bubbly teenager, you also felt like a horny teenager.

His hands were the main culprit, engulfing his beer bottle like it was a baby bottle. His thick digits tapped the table, scratched his beard, mussed up his hair. After the third drink, you couldn’t even pretend you weren’t staring.

“Where’d ya go, hm?” He spoke softly, his amber eyes twinkling under the lowlight above the booth. His skin was flushed from the alcohol.

“Sorry,” you snickered, looking out the window. “Do you wanna get out of here? It just started snowing.”

Joel turned toward the window, watching the flakes fall from the sky for a moment. He sighed slightly, but you didn’t miss it. You didn’t want this to end either.

He collected the empty bottles and brought them to the bar and closed out, leaving a few bills in the tip jar. The staff waved you both goodnight as Joel slipped your coat back over your shoulders.

Snowflakes fluttered from the sky, the beginnings of frost coating the vehicles. Your hand was stolen from your side, fingers interlocking with Joel’s as he walked you through the lot.

“You okay to drive?” Concerned laced his brows. You could write an essay about how much of a gentleman he had been.

“Yeah…but I don’t wanna go yet,” you admitted coyly, stepping in front of him and grabbing his other hand as well. A smirk grew across his lips as you dragged him past your car.

“Where d’ya wanna go, darlin’?”

“Anywhere…or nowhere. As long as you’re there.”

A glint of mischief shined in his eyes as you approached his truck. He slid his hands in your back pockets and pulled you closer to him.

“Sounds like a bargain to me, baby,” he bit his bottom lip, a smirk playing across it as his cheeks flushed a rosy hue. The fresh snow in his hair created a pretty halo effect, making him look even more beautiful than before.

Your lips locked in what had started as a gentle, warm kiss that quickly turned passionate and hot. Sparks were flying and teeth were clashing. Joel had you pinned to his truck with his thigh slotted between your legs, hands making themselves at home as he explored over your clothes. A groan emitted from his chest as your hips ground down on his leg and fingers tangled in his curly locks.

He reluctantly peeled his lips and hands away to dig his keys out of his front pocket. Your lips landed on his neck as he fumbled with his key trying to get it in the lock. Once he succeeded, he opened the driver’s door and folded his seat forward. Before you knew it, you were in his cramped backseat with him as he made quick work of all of the layers you were wearing.

Clothes were thrown anywhere away from you, lips attacking one another hungrily until you were both stripped of everything but your undergarments. His big, rough hands palmed against you, your tits, waist, hips, ass, thighs, anywhere his heart, or rather his cock, desired.

“Fuck wait,” he panted, putting his slightly trembling hands on either side of your face to catch your attention. Your wide, doe eyed expression caused his cock to twitch against your covered cunt. “I don’t have a condom, we-”

“I don’t care,” you sighed, pushing past his barrier to kiss him once more. “I need you.”

A curse and the lord’s name in vain slipped through his swollen pout. He adjusted himself under you as he sat with his back to the door and his legs spread down the expanse of the backseat.

“Wan’ these pretty tits in my mouth while you ride me, pretty girl,” he grumbled, kneading your ass under his giant palms. A pathetic whine escaped you as he used it as leverage to grind your pussy over his lap, your arousal seeping through your panties and spreading over the fabric of his boxers. His hand wrapped under your ass and slipped under your cotton underwear before sliding easily through your soaked folds to your clit. The calluses on his fingertips created a titillating friction.

“So fucking wet for me, darlin’,” he slurred. “Pussy’s begging to be filled, hm? Sure you can take it, beautiful?”

You nodded frantically as your hot breath fanned over his face. The window behind Joel’s head began to fog over as you panted near the glass.

Hooking his fingers around the fabric, Joel pulled your panties to the side. The winter air pierced your skin, drawing your attention to how much arousal was dripping from you. No man had pulled that much from you, let alone before he even touched your pussy.

His pointer finger prodded at your entrance as your body slowly welcomed him in. In comparison to your fingers, his were much larger and thicker, slowly stretching you out with each pump.

“Christ, you’re so tight ‘round my fingers, baby. Gonna feel so good on my cock,” he rasped as he added a second finger to the mix. You were tumbling towards your high the moment his thumb found your clit, a string of profanities and ‘pleases’ pouring from you between moans.

“C’mon, come for me,” he grunted. “Take whatcha want.”

His other hand unclipped your bra quickly before he palmed your breast and pinched your peaked nipple between his fingertips. Your head fell back with pleasure, the crown of it brushing against the roof of his truck. Moans and whines poured from you as he worked you over the edge expertly, like he’d known you for years.

Folding forwards, your sweat slick forehead landed on the cool window beside his head. Your pussy clenched around his fingers, pulling them in deeper as your orgasm convulsed your body.

“Yeah, you fuckin’ love that,” he grumbled into your ear, extending your pleasure with his voice alone. “I’m not done with ya, gorgeous.”

He made quick work of his briefs, exposing his thick shaft. You couldn’t help but gawk at it as you sat against his thighs, resting it on your stomach. It reached up past your belly button. It certainly was proportionate to the rest of him, simply big.

“Still think you can take it, sweet thing?” He purred, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “We can stop.”

Your hand wrapped around his length, pumping it slowly and spreading his precum over the tip.

“I wanna try,” you whispered, resting your forehead against his. His uneven breaths hit your face, Joel encouraging you to continue with a nod.

“You’re so perfect,” he mumbled, tilting his head up and bumping his nose against yours. His lips met your parted pair with a content hum as you continued stroking him languidly.

“Spit on my cock, baby. Get it nice and ready for you,” he mused, pushing his thumb into your mouth and pressing down on your tongue. Saliva pooled to the front of your mouth. You pursed your lips and let it fall right onto the tip, spreading it down with your palm. His head fell back, thunking the window slightly with a ‘fuck me’.

He placed his right hand on your hip, the other gripping the base of his throbbing length. The exchange should’ve been awkward in the cramped space, but it felt perfect as he swiped the tip through your slick folds. It nudged your entrance, breaching the hole slowly as he let you take the lead. He supported your shaking legs solely with his arm strength, allowing you to ease down slowly. The stretch was a mix of pain and pleasure, enough for you to see stars.

“God, baby,” he panted, snapping you back to reality. “Takin’ my cock so well. Feels so good ‘round me.”

You finally were able to get fully settled down on his lap. His hands roamed once more, setting your skin ablaze as his palms skated on their path. The sensation caused your cunt to flutter around him, squeezing him tight. A groan escaped his throat into your collarbone.

“Can’t fuck you properly if you do that. Gon’ come like a damn teenager,” he huffed with a smile. He kissed you feverishly, gripping your ass as leverage so he could guide you. He pushed and pulled your body against his, back and forth, back and forth.

Your hands found purchase on his chest, hairs sparsely scattered on the taut skin. You dragged them down his torso with your nails delicately scraping him.

“Christ,” he hummed against your mouth. “Where’ve you been my whole life? So fuckin’ pretty…perfect f’me.”

He shifted the two of you further into the seat, granting you more room to lean down on him. Your hips rose and fell steadily against his, the drag of his heavy cock stimulating spots you didn’t know you had. Each time he bottomed out in you, your clit ground against the patch of curls right on his pubic bone. It was a beautiful dance, as if you’d been lovers in a previous life. His body melded so perfectly with yours, meeting your hips perfectly, holding you perfectly, touching and kissing you oh so perfectly.

“Lean forward, baby,” Joel panted as he wedged his hands under your thighs. He almost slipped from the warmth of your pussy, but he stopped you right where he wanted you. You buried your face into his shoulder as he buried into your chest, flicking his tongue against the peaked bud of your nipple.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped, letting his lips wrap around the sensitive flesh.

Joel’s thighs tensed as he planted his feet firmly on the seat. His hips pushed up into yours carefully, your hot breath directly fogging the window. Your back arched, head hitting the ceiling and chest right in Joel’s face. His tongue poked out to wet his lips, his jet black irises staring straight at your tits.

Your hand shot up to the window to steady yourself as the speed of his thrusts doubled. What a triple threat he was, pistoning his cock into you, abusing your nipples with his mouth and massaging your clit all at once. The sound of slapping skin and wanton moans filled the rocking truck. You didn’t care if anyone could see or hear, you could only physically care about the man underneath you.

“Joel, m’gonna-” you gasped, his routine faltering as you clenched down on him.

“Fuck, yeah I know, baby. I feel her beggin’. Wan’ you to make a mess f’me,” he hissed between clenched teeth as you whined over him.

Moans were caught in the back of your throat, legs locking up and jaw dropping. With one, two, three more thrusts, your body froze. The only movement came from your fluttering cunt. Bliss completely took over your being as you collapsed against Joel, thighs twitching as you finally found your breath once more.

When you came to your senses, more warmth filled you as Joel came to his. His desperate moans made way to your ears, a breathtaking melody you’d commit crimes to hear again and again.

And you did, without the criminal streak of course.

Each of your following dates ended tangled together, covered in a combination of your own sweat and cum and his own. You were insatiable with this man, as he was with you, christening both his house and your apartment, any surface imaginable.

Around your sixth date, you had something up your sleeve. You had invited him over for a home cooked meal. A silk wrap dress adorned your figure, concealing the prettiest lingerie set you could find while shopping, coincidentally in his favorite color.

“Hi, baby,” you greeted Joel cheerily as you opened the door. Snowflakes were sprinkled across his shoulders and in his hair. Your arms wrapped up and around his neck, pulling him in for a quick, yet passionate kiss. A couple of snow crystals from his mustache melted against your lips, the cold sensation contrasting greatly from his warm skin.

His face lingered near yours, eyes still closed as he took in the aromas of your apartment. You smelled of a rich, warm vanilla, your living room had an aroma of lavender from your candles, and to top it off, the food you were cooking smelled incredible. You swore you could hear his stomach growling.

“You look so beautiful, darlin’,” he drawled. “Y’smell good too.”

He slid off his jacket, hanging it up on your coat rack. He toed his shoes off on the mat to keep from tracking snow throughout your apartment. All the while his eyes devoured you shamelessly, even after you turned away to return to your kitchen.

“Whatcha cookin’, baby? Smells amazing,” he hummed.

“Chicken alfredo,” you smiled at him, stirring the sauce as the pasta cooked in the boiling water. You picked up some of the water in a ladle and added it to the creamy goodness in your saucepan before straining the noodles.

“Wanted to keep it simple, can’t go wrong with a classic, hm?” You returned the al dente fettuccine back into the pot, removing it from the burner and turning it off.

Joel’s thick arms wrapped around your middle as he fit himself behind you. He slotted his head on your shoulder, peppering soft kisses along your exposed neck. His hips pressed against you, his half hard length trapped between you both.

“Are you hard?” You giggled, only seeing his dark tuffs of curls in your peripheral. You knew that you looked good but you had barely touched the man for Christ’s sake.

“Can’t help it,” he mumbled against your supple skin, deeply inhaling your scent. “Smell jus’ like candy, baby. Need a taste.”

“Joel, what are you-” you’re cut off by the warmth of his hands on your thighs, dragging up your skin, skimming over your garter belt, and taking the skirt of your dress with them. His presence next to you dissipated as he sank to his knees.

“Keep doing your thing, I’ll do mine,” he hummed, sucking in a sharp breath through closed teeth as he took in the lace adorning the swell of your ass. His breath was hot on your rear as his fingers ghosted over your panties, putting light pressure against your clothed clit.

“Joel-” you gasped in pleasure, his ministrations drawing a whine from you. “I can’t cook like this.”

He chuckled at your response to his actions and peeked his head out from under your dress to look you in your eyes, his fingers caressing and skimming over your soft skin.

“But you like it?” he asked, his voice husking and his eyes full of desire as he looked you over. “You like to know just how much I want you?”

He let his eyes slowly drift up to your face, gazing at you with an air of hunger and excitement as you nodded silently. He was going to be the death of you.

“You’re so perfect, baby,” he cooed, disappearing once more, planting wet kisses on your ass and sucking your flesh gently as he teased your entrance with his rough middle fingertip. Your grip on the counter surrounding your stove tightened significantly as your head tipped back with pleasure.

His fingers found their way under your panties, hooking into them and pulling them away from your glistening cunt. He dragged his knuckles through your folds a few strokes, stopping at your bundle of nerves to apply just the perfect amount of pressure.

A gasp was caught in your throat, morphing into a strangled moan as he rubbed your pussy and sucked his marks into your skin.

“Joel-”

Your impending complaint was cut off with a firm smack to your cheek. He groaned at the rippling flesh, his tongue diving into your slit.

“You gon’ keep complainin’? I can stop,” he muttered, licking against your swollen clit and sucking it between his lips. The only response coming from you were moans and sighs, the sound going straight to Joel’s cock as he continued to lap at your cunt.

“Fuck,” you cried. “Please don’t stop, I need it.”

Joel gripped onto the flesh of your thighs hard enough to leave bruises for the next few days to come. Your back arched, pushing yourself against his face harder. His groans vibrated against your pussy, adding to the multitude of sensations he was giving you.

The swirling pattern between your lips felt different, felt new, felt so fucking good.

“Fuck, just like that,” you sighed, gripping your fingers into his curls to anchor him where he belonged. “God don’t stop whatever you’re doing.”

“I’m just claiming what’s mine,” he grumbled as he continued. A moan escaped you in response as you focused on his tongue lapping at your cunt, licking the same pattern over and over again.

J-O-E-L

“Holy shit,” you panted as his tongue dove into your weeping hole, collecting your arousal before continuing his pattern. “Are you spelling your name?”

“Like I said, darlin’, claimin’ what’s mine,” a growl rumbled in his chest as he went right back to work. His palms laid flush against your ass, squeezing your flesh and stretching it up to get a better view and angle of your pussy. The coil in your stomach wound tighter and tighter as he alternated between licking and sucking, squeezing and fucking his first two fingers into your heat.

“I’m s’close, please please plea-” you whined, pushing your ass back onto his face as you chased your high.

Joel’s pace was relentless as he curled his fingers into your g-spot, massaging the spongy tissue precisely while sucking your clit between his tongue. The awaiting release almost sent you forward into the hot burner, but you were just able to catch yourself on the cool edge of the stove. Your body trembled as he worked you through the intense climax, lapping your cum as it seeped from you with a content groan.

“You did s’good for me, baby,” he cooed as he rose from his knees. His beard was shining with your arousal, damn near dripping down his chin. He took your face in his palms and kissed you roughly, making sure your tongue was completely coated with your spend.

The stovetop timer blared, signaling that the chicken was ready to be taken out. Joel reached past you blindly to stop the pestering noise.

“Dinner can wait,” he panted between kisses, drawing a guttural groan from you as he pulled your bottom lip back between his teeth. His hand traveled south to your neck, not applying pressure.

“But Joel,” you whined, thinking about the time you just spent preparing the meal. You had to admit, he was making it incredibly difficult to even care. “It’s gonna be cold.”

“But nothin’,” he spat, pulling at the tie of your dress and watching it spill open. His thumb creeped up to pull on your chin, forcing your mouth open to him. “You have a microwave for a reason. I have something else to eat in the meantime.”

His eyes ran hungrily over your lingerie. The dark blue and white set contrasted beautifully from your skin, making his cock constrict further against his jeans. He quickly turned off the oven, the burners and took the chicken out before gripping your hand.

He had no problem finding your bedroom. Joel went to sleep full and satisfied that night as did you.

to stay up to date on when I post fics, follow @pascalpvnk-writes and turn on notifications! i hope you enjoyed <3

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #pedro pascal characters #my writing #fic: first few dates

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incorrectbatfam · 2 years

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Not sure if you’ve heard of the ‘dad reflex’ where dads just save their small children from imminent harm (usually because the child is still learning how gravity works or just completely unaware of the world around them). I know Bruce technically doesn’t get the bat kids young but either way his batdad reflex has to be off the charts. What are his best dad reflexes? (They can be smol kids or cannon ages whatever sparks your creative juices most!)

Thank you💙💙

They're at someone else's gala and 27-year-old grown-ass Dick is swinging from a giant chandelier in an atrium 3 stories high when it gives out and Bruce "Wine drunk and raving about his kids" Wayne, who hears the tiny snap across the room, stops mid-conversation, grabs a steak knife, slashes a curtain, and swings from the balcony in like fuckin' Tarzan to grab him in the span of 5 seconds before 300 pounds of metal and glass come crashing down

Tim gets mosh pit tickets for his favorite band and Bruce goes with him because Bernard got caught up in something last minute, and after hours of waiting outside, they make it all the way to the front where, on the last song, Bruce's dad senses tingle in time to shield Tim from a malfunctioning confetti cannon all while glaring at the crew in a way that guarantees someone's about to lose their job

In a recon mission gone sideways, Bruce and Steph are taking on some goons at the harbor when one of them knocks her into the water, and without hesitation he throws aside the person he's fighting, dives into the freezing waves, and gives her his rebreather, holding his breath for what seems like forever until they resurface, and despite the ache in his lungs the next morning, it's worth it when he watches her turn waffles into a breakfast burrito

Duke's driving the Batmobile while Bruce is in the passenger's seat walking him through all the controls, and they're listening to the scanner and joking about their last mission when, just before an intersection, Bruce suddenly grabs the wheel and swerves, and before Duke can say anything a semi truck plows through the exact spot where they would've been

Cass tries to cook one day while Bruce is sitting at the bar doing some work, and he forgot what she was making, but all he knows is one minute he's answering an email and the next he's sprinting across the kitchen and sweeping her out of the way right before the pressure cooker explodes—and afterwards he doesn't let her clean up because everything is still scalding hot

The middle school holds a fundraiser at the petting zoo, and everything's going great until someone forgets to turn off their flash and the whole enclosure descends into chaos, and all Bruce cares about is scooping Damian up before a bull rams into the fence he was sitting on—then he makes eye contact with Clark, who just did the exact same with Jon

Against orders, Jason pursues a lead that brings him right to the Joker's doorstep. Dazed and disarmed, he doesn't realize what's happening until a long metallic scrape renders him frozen as those moments replay in his mind, and he thinks this is how the universe wants him to go out. Then he hears a swoosh and a click. Jason opens his eyes to Batman pointing a gun at the Joker, his silence sending a clear message: no more chances.

BONUS: Teenage Bruce tried to sneak out the window and Alfred was at the bottom ready to catch him

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cyber-skeletons · 6 months

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Omg Optimus finding out he was pregnant with Sam after not feeling well for a week and the mayhem that causes amongst his troops ( mainly Arcee and Wheeljakc having to be held back from kicking Megatron’s aft for their knocking up their commander bc they jumped to conclusions) and Megatron totally not trying to pass out form shock and then winds up scaring the pit of Knockout with the jubilant shouting from the warlord once the shock faded

"Optimus? What are you doing?"

Optimus froze and slowly turned towards Ratchet from where he'd been rifling through the medic's supplies. "...Searching," he said truthfully.

Ratchet arced a critical brow ridge. "For anything in particular?"

Optimus dropped his gaze, his finials sinking back. "...A carriage test."

Ratchet cycled his optics, then cycled them again. "Pardon?"

Optimus looked at his old friend pleadingly. "The increase in my core system temperature, the ache in my refineries, the way I've been purging every morning this past week... Ratchet, you know very well what this looks like."

"Sure, I know what it looks like, but I also know that sparklings don't just spontaneously manifest from nothing, and I know you, Optimus, you haven't interfaced with anyone for millions of years! It can't be a-" Ratchet froze at the look on Optimus's face. "Optimus..." he said slowly, "oh, Optimus, tell me you didn't."

Optimus stared dejectedly at the floor. "When Megatron held the peace summit last month, he invited me to his quarters, and we... Ratchet, there was highgrade-"

Ratchet immediately grabbed a wrench and hurled it to whistle past Optimus's helm. The Prime barely flinched.

"What are you, glitched?!" Ratchet shrieked. "That summit was a ploy to learn the location of our base, we knew it from the start, and what did he do at the end of it?! Said your terms were 'unacceptable' and TRIED TO KILL YOU!"

"Ratchet, please," Optimus tried, his voice breaking.

Ratchet rapidly collected himself and reset his vocalizer. "Right. Okay. I'm sorry. Eugh..." he groaned, dragging a servo down his faceplate. "Come on. A carriage test hasn't been available since Cybertron fell. I'll have to examine you."

Miko's voice suddenly sounded from the floor. "What's a carriage test?"

The two mechs whirled around to spot the human child in the doorway to the medical supply room, smiling innocently up at them.

"Miko..." Ratchet said gently, raising a servo as if he were in a hostage situation. "A carriage test is... a test... to determine if... a mech can transform into a carriage."

Miko tilted her head and scoffed, blowing her colorful bangs from her face. "But you guys can turn into cars and trucks and cool things like that! Besides, what use is a carriage without horses?"

"What is a horse?" Optimus asked.

Miko opened her mouth to answer with a bright smile, bouncing on her tip-toes, only to turn thoughtful and rub her chin. "What is a horse? We just don't know!"

Ratchet rolled his optics and drawled, "Yes, yes, very good, now run along, I have to examine Optimus for a very sensitive, private matter."

Miko snorted. "Yeah, whether or not he can turn into a buggy."

Optimus made a face. "I am not an insecticon."

"Wrong buggy, Prime."

"Shoo!" Ratchet barked, waving his servos, and Miko squealed and ran away with a giggle, leaving Ratchet to grab a medical scanner and herd Optimus to the Prime's private quarters.

Once Optimus was lying down on his berth, Ratchet swept the scanner over his abdomen to get a reading and then squinted at the results. He did it again, then again. He paled.

"Optimus," he said gingerly. "You're sparked."

Optimus laid there and stared up at the ceiling.

That was how he noticed Jack duck back away from the ceiling vent.

Optimus closed his optics and groaned, "Jack..." but the boy was already scrambling back towards the common area, creating frantic thumps in the ventilation system.

"I'll stop him," Ratchet said, determined, setting the scanner aside and marching towards the door, only for Optimus to catch his hand.

"Don't," Optimus said quietly, sitting up and setting his pedes on the floor. "I'll have to tell the team sooner or later. It may as well be now."

"Optimus, you have a right to-"

"It's fine," Optimus assured, standing up to his full great height, and Ratchet frowned, but made no further argument. "However, I must ask, old friend... will you stand at my side as I tell them?"

"Always," Ratchet swore, and with that the two mechs made their way to the common area.

"Optimus!" Arcee barked as soon as they came out of the hallway. The entire team was assembled around the children, including Wheeljack, looking shook to the core. "What is this? You're sparked? Can we afford this right now?"

"What Jack has told you is true," Optimus said gravely, coming to stand at parade rest in front of his soldiers and charges.

Rafael spoke up then, raising his hand. "What's 'sparked'? Is it bad?"

Bumblebee beeped at his human friend, and Raf balked.

Jack glanced worriedly between Raf and Optimus and asked, "What, what'd he say, what's wrong with Optimus?"

"He's uh... pregnant," Raf said slowly, looking perplexed.

Miko's jaw dropped. "Whoa, robots can get preggers? ...COOL!"

Wheeljack was the first to recover. "So who's the lucky bot?" he drawled with a forced smirk. "Is it Doc?"

Optimus and Ratchet shared a look. Ratchet immediately commed him, :Tell them it's me. They don't have to know.:

Optimus shook his helm and looked back at his team. He would not lie to his family. "No, it is not Ratchet. The sparkling's sire is none other than Megatron."

There was silence. Then:

"I'm going to kill him," Arcee snarled, curling her servos into fists and stalking towards the exit to the base. "I'm going to tear him apart!"

"I'll join you," Wheeljack said darkly, snapping his battlemask shut and transforming into his rally car alt-mode, roaring his engine.

"You will do no such thing," Optimus said sharply, quickly stepping between them and the exit. "Megatron and I's bonding was both consensual and enthusiastic."

Miko snorted and laughed, "Ewwwww!"

Jack furrowed his brow and held out his arms. "Optimus, how could you?"

Bumblebee beeped rapidly, and Raf translated, "What does this mean for the war?"

Optimus was getting overwhelmed, so Ratchet stepped in then, placing a gentle servo on his arm. Gathering strength from his friend, Optimus shot him a grateful look before turning to the others and intoning, "I will tell Megatron of this miracle that we have made, and hopefully awaken something in his spark other than hatred."

Knock Out was examining his claws when the Nemesis's communications array began ringing. When he saw it was from the Autobots, he groaned, "Ugh, fine," and stopped examining his claws long enough to answer the call. "You've reached Lord Megatron's line~ He's not inclined to waste time on Autobot filth at the moment, so how may I help you?"

Prime's system ID image stared at him disapprovingly from the holoscreen. "I have important news that I would prefer to give to Megatron personally. Is it possible to arrange a meeting on neutral ground?"

"What do I look like, his secretary?"

"I say again: I bear news that may alter the course of the war, and will certainly alter his functioning."

"Sure you do," Knock Out chuckled, finally letting his servo fall so he could seductively lean on the console. "And I'm the King of Velocitron."

"Are you saying you will not give me an audience with Megatron?"

"I'm saying you can shove it up your aft."

There was a weighted pause. "You would deny your Lord his sparkling?"

Knock Out's vents choked on air as he shrieked, "What?!" Bristling, he glowered at the holoscreen. "What evidence- I want proof! Our Lord would never lie with- Oh would you look at that," he said, tilting his helm at the still image of a second spark orbiting around the Prime's.

"I will not beg to see him," Prime continued, voice hard. "You may deliver this information yourself, if you so desire. This channel will remain open if he wishes to make contact afterwards. Goodbye."

And with that, Prime hung up.

Knock Out immediately scrambled to run through the hallways to find his Lord.

"Uh... Lord Megatron?" Knock Out prompted with a grimaced smile. "Nemesis to Lord Megatron, come in Lord Megatron."

Megatron just stood there, intake agape and flapping, his optics bulging as he stared at the second little spark cradled next to Prime's.

"Yoohoo~?"

"YEEESSSSSSSSS!" Megatron suddenly bellowed, whirling on Knock Out and picking him up, and Knock Out saw his entire life flash before his optics as his Lord spun him around and set him back down so he could pump his fists in the air. "YES! YES! YES! YES!"

Rattling with terror and swallowing repeatedly, Knock Out gave a shaky thumbs up before walking away to go bury his face in Breakdown's amazing bosom, hearing Lord Megatron practically skip through the ship behind him and off into the distance, bellowing, "I'M GOING TO BE A SIRE!"

#look what you made us do we had to write a whole fic #megop #optimus prime #megatron #team prime #transformers prime #transformers #skeletons answer #sam witwicky megop fankid au #mechpreg

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logisticsmobilerepairs · 2 months

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Your truck’s engine is its heart, and keeping it healthy is crucial for maintaining performance and avoiding costly repairs. Recognizing the early warning signs of a failing engine can save you from unexpected breakdowns and expensive fixes. Here are ten signs you should never ignore:

#truck repair #mobile truck repair #truck electrical repair #old truck #truck tire repair #commercial vehicle repairs #overheating truck #mobile diesel mechanic #truck repair services #truck scanner

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eiightysixbaby · 10 months

Text

i’ll be home for christmas

PART TWO: Run Run Rudolph

previous part || series masterlist || next part

word count: 5.1k

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie isn’t enjoying life in chicago, but he’s been too stubborn to admit it. when he's at his breaking point, what comes next?

cw: switches between past and present tense, mentions of food/eating, lots of angst, eddie is an idiot but we love him, reader’s nickname is ‘sunny’

author’s note: just wanted to say thank you all so much for the love on part one! i’m so excited to be sharing more of this story. part three is in the works and should be out in the next couple of weeks :) thank you again for giving my story a chance, it means so much to me.

Present Day: December 18th, 1989.

The droning, repetitive sound of the cash register’s scanner is giving Eddie a migraine. Beep. A sweater is thrown into a bag. Beep. Some cooking utensils. Beep. A toy truck and a Barbie doll.

The impatient face of the woman who stands before him only makes him want to move slower, and she scowls when he “accidentally” purposefully drops one of her items to the floor.

“Oops!” he says, giving her a fake innocent grin, shrugging dramatically before he bends down to pick it up. He debates how feasible it would be to fake a stroke or a heart attack or something while he’s down here, but ultimately decides against it and stands straight again.

Beep. He scans a tie with green and red stripes on it, presumably for the less-than-amused husband who stands at the woman's side, looking like he'd rather be literally anywhere else.

He can hear the woman’s foot tapping on the waxy floors beneath them, her arms crossed over her chest and her checkbook clutched in one hand. He gives her her final total, watching as she scrawls her pristine cursive writing onto the thin piece of paper before handing it to him. He hands her several bags once the transaction is finished, pressing his lips into a tight line when she yanks them from his grip in a less-than-pleasant manner. The husband follows absentmindedly like a puppy on a leash, paying absolutely no mind to Eddie whatsoever. He might as well not have even been there.

“Happy Holidays to you, too,” he says, perhaps a bit too loud as they walk away.

Sighing, he leans onto the countertop in front of him, pressing his face into his open palms. The store’s speakers play a consistent loop of popular Christmas music, and Eddie thinks he’s heard The Chipmunk Song enough times today to last him the rest of his life. The squeaky voices of the fictional rodents ring out through the decorated space, eliciting laughter from children who can’t help but sing along.

There’s been a non-stop wave of shoppers over the past couple of weeks, and it only seems to be getting worse the closer it gets to the holiday. People in Chicago aren’t friendly about it, either. Everyone seems to be going about their lives transactionally, angry and frustrated that they have to be picking up gifts and baking cookies and wrapping boxes in the first place. Eddie isn’t used to it.

Back in Hawkins, everyone was cheerful around Christmas. The otherwise quiet town seemed to light up in December, bringing even the grumpiest of residents out of the woodwork to celebrate. The funny thing is, he never thought he'd miss it. Never imagined he'd yearn for that town, for that community. But there's a lot of things that hadn't gone according to his plan, so what's one more on that list?

Eddie can feel his name tag poking his skin through his shirt, his argyle sweater that was so impossibly opposite to his taste in fashion but that was strongly recommended by his boss; "to look put-together", he'd been told. And so he'd picked out a few "nice" outfits, for nothing if not to keep his damn job. But the material of the sweater makes his skin itch, and paired with the too-bright lights and the too-repetitive music, this job was a sensory hellhole. The smell of over-priced perfume is engrained into his nostrils at this point, and Eddie literally winces as he catches a customer spray a cloud of the fragrance out of a sample bottle.

He rolls his eyes as Donna, head of the fragrance department, dishes out her usual sales-pitch to the clueless man that stands before her, utterly and devastatingly unsure of what to get the lady in his life for Christmas. I could never be that clueless, Eddie thinks to himself, I know how to get a good gift.

And then, his heart aches as he stares blankly at the man holding two different perfume bottles in each hand. Because he remembers that the last real gift he'd bought was for you.

December 5th, 1988.

The mall was packed full of holiday shoppers, everyone in a mad rush to find the perfect gifts for each person on their lists. Eddie typically wasn't much of a shopper himself, really only coming to the mall to bother Dustin and Will at Scoops, but today was different. You wanted to start getting your shopping out of the way, and didn’t want to go alone, so of course Eddie was going to tag along. He’d been spending every possible second he could with you, running errands or getting food or seeing a movie. Even just hanging out at your apartment or his trailer. With you, everything seemed magical. Every item you picked up and marveled at in each store, every Christmas song you sang along to, it was all shiny and wonderful because it was associated with you.

You currently have him at a jewelry store, looking into a glass case filled with glittering gold and silver accessories. Some of which probably cost, individually, more than all of his possessions combined. A low whistle leaves his mouth before he hears you chirp beside him.

“Eddie! Look at this one!” you coo, pointing eagerly at a flashy necklace that sits in the case.

He’s at your side in an instant, looking where your finger directs him. His eyes land on a dazzling pendant, adorned with jewels that sparkle glamorously.

“Oh, Nancy would love this,” you muse, taking a closer look at the price tag. “I could get this for her… or I could tell Robin about it so she could get it for her. I don’t know, is it too much if I get Nancy a necklace?” you debate out loud, making Eddie smile at how flat-out adorable you are.

He loves your heart, the way you always think about your friends. You truly aren’t looking for a thing for yourself, you just want to get your friends the best gifts possible, physical objects that remind them of your gratitude for them.

“I don’t think it’s too much. Or, why don’t you give Robin a call so you can ask her straight up? Here, use the pay phone,” he offers, pulling some quarters from his pocket and handing them to you.

“You’re right, that’s the easiest idea,” you say with a cute little relieved laugh. “Wait here, I’ll be back in like, fifteen.”

He gives you a little salute with two fingers, continuing to glance around at the selection once you’ve left. His feet stop him instantly when his eyes catch a delicate gold necklace with a tiny heart-shaped pendant. It’s engraved with the letter M, and a card sits beside it that informs potential buyers that you can get it customized with any initial. It’s simple, exactly how you’d want it to be, but it’s far from ugly or bland.

Eddie knows immediately that he wants to get it for you, eyeing the price tag nervously before breathing a sigh of pure relief at the fact that it’s far more affordable than he’d have suspected. You’re the most special thing in his life, and it feels right to give you a piece of him. His initial, to wear on your neck, so you can keep him close at all times. His stomach does a little flip of excitement at his idea, and he’s grateful you’ve left him alone so he can keep this a surprise.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he says to the worker after you’ve left. “I’d like to get this one, please. Engraved with an E.”

Present Day: December 18th, 1989.

He's pulled from his melancholy daze by another customer snapping their fingers in his face, polished nails standing out at the tips of slender fingers.

"Hello? Anybody home?" the woman asks, chewing her gum too exaggeratedly for Eddie to be able to take her seriously. "Are you too stupid to understand me or what?"

Yeah. It's going to be a long rest of his shift.

•

Cars roll past on the busy streets as Eddie makes his commute home, the holiday chaos evidently in full-swing on the outside of the department store, too. He winces as a car’s tires slosh through the slushy mixture collecting on the sides of the road, sending it splattering all over his coat. He sighs, moving off to the side of the sidewalk that’s furthest from the road, brushing half-melted snow off of himself.

His body is frigid with the cold, his eyes heavy with his incredible lack of sleep and his fatigue from the most draining shift at the world's most boring job. He trudges inside of his apartment building, the tall structure looming over the Chicago streets. The large Christmas tree in the lobby makes Eddie frown to himself, resurfacing that ache he’d felt at work. The ache that really hasn’t fully gone away since last Christmas. It’s always in the back of his mind, always tapping away at his heart, a dull soreness like a bruise that won’t heal.

“Oh shit, what’s goin’ on, Edwardio?” Eddie’s neighbor, Argyle, greets him as he climbs the stairs to his floor.

“Hey, man,” Eddie responds, feeling guilty at the monotony of his voice compared to cheerfulness of his acquaintance.

“You wanna come in for a smoke sesh? Just picked up some new stuff,” Argyle offers, sticking his thumb in the direction of his door as he grabs his keys from his pocket.

“Nah, man, not tonight. Some other time,” and then Eddie’s slinking into his apartment, shutting his door promptly behind him.

Eddie never turns down a smoke sesh.

Once fully inside, he throws his things haphazardly onto the ground. He couldn’t be bothered to care about where they land — his whole place is a mess. A reflection of his mental state. Soft wool fabric of his sweater is tossed onto his bed, traded for a t-shirt so well-loved it has holes in the neckline. He goes to his dining table as he tugs the shirt fully over his head, grabbing the phone off of the wall and anxiously curling the cord around his fingers as he dials a familiar number. It rings a few times before there’s an answer, each droning dial tone making him anxious.

“Hello?” he hears Robin’s voice ring out on the other end.

“Rob, hey, it’s me.”

“Eddie!” she says excitedly. “Guys, Eddie’s on the phone!” her voice sounds further away, and he knows she’s holding the phone away from her face as she calls out to whoever else is there.

Steve shouts his name and he smiles, hearing the commotion on the other end as other people shuffle towards Robin to try and grab the phone.

“How is everything? How are you?” Robin asks him, shushing Dustin as he begs her to let him say hi.

“I, uh, I’m alright. I miss you guys,” he says, resting his forehead on the heel of his palm. “How’s everything there?”

“We miss you too. Things are….” Robin pauses, and it makes Eddie’s stomach drop. “—They’re okay,” she finishes, but she sounds unsure; like there’s something she isn’t telling him.

“Who’s there with you right now? I know I heard Henderson and Steve,” he says, trying to force some happiness into his voice.

“Eddie! You’ll never believe how the D&D campaign is going!” Dustin says excitedly into the receiver, and he can hear Robin’s voice telling him to give it back.

“I bet it’s great, you’ll have to call me on your own sometime and tell me everything.”

“I definitely wi— HEY!” Dustin says, yelling as the phone is seemingly snatched from him.

“Give me the phone back, you turd! Okay, to answer your question…” Robin’s voice is back again. “It’s me, Nance, Jonathan, of course Steve and Dustin, and then, uh… Sunny,” she trails off, getting quieter at the end.

It hurts Eddie’s heart, the way she says your name softly like she doesn’t want you or him to hear it.

“Can I… can you put her on?” he tries, wanting so desperately to hear your voice.

You haven’t talked to him since Christmas Eve. Since the night he told you he was leaving. Every time he’d call home he couldn’t manage to get ahold of you. The one time he called your personal number, the second you’d said hello and he’d announced his presence, you’d hung up. Sometimes, when Eddie happens to call Steve or Robin or Nancy during a group hangout, they’ll tell him you aren’t there, but he knows it’s a lie. Not that it matters much anyway, because even the times they’re honest with him he’ll ask to speak to you and you’ll refuse.

It hurts him, how much you’ve distanced yourself. He obviously wanted you to move forward, but he’d hoped you could at least catch up every once in a while. How stupid he’d been to think that this was a fair thing to ask of you. How stupid he’d been to think the right decision was to leave you behind, the one person who he adored, who was right for him.

“Eddie…” Robin says on the other end, her voice wavering.

“Forget it. It’s okay,” he says, immediately looking to change the subject. “Look, I just wanted to check in and see how you guys were doing. I can let you go.”

“We miss you, Eddie. We’re always thinking of you,” Robin says, and he hears Nancy say a quick “love you!”

“Tell Wheeler I love her, too. I love all of you guys, okay? We’ll talk later.”

And then the call is over. The phone clicks into its place on the wall, and Eddie is alone again. Deafening silence rings in his ears, taunting him as he stares blankly at the wall in front of him.

If he’s honest, truly honest, nothing has been right since he left Hawkins. He tries to grin and bear it, to pretend like his shitty dead-end job is making him happy and that he made the correct decision moving here. But deep down, nearly this whole time, he’s known it was wrong.

Last December, he’d been at a breaking point, feeling like he was unwanted in Hawkins and like he was just a burden to you and everyone else. He’d genuinely convinced himself that you’d be better off without him, had it in his head that you’d move on with time and that you’d be okay in his absence.

He couldn’t be more wrong, but he wasn’t aware of how much you missed him. He didn’t think he was something worth missing.

December 16th, 1988.

Steaming hot plates of scrambled eggs and bacon are placed in front of you and Eddie, followed by two sides of toast with extra butter. Taking a tentative sip of his scalding coffee, Eddie’s eyes meet yours over the rim of his mug. You do a happy little wiggle in your seat, more than content to have a meal after your drinking session at Nancy’s the previous night. Eddie’s stomach was begging for food, and he knows you must be feeling the same way.

You waste no time digging in, and he watches you with a cute smile on his face as you raise your fork to your mouth, groaning when you take your first bite of eggs. You look ethereal, with your hair unbrushed and your mascara messy around your eyes, one of his big t-shirts on your frame beneath your winter coat. His smile falters, then, as he considers how perfect you are. How you’re effortlessly flawless, and how he doesn’t come close to deserving you.

You catch him staring, poking his wrist with the dull end of your fork and breaking him out of his thoughts.

“You can’t absorb my food just by watching me eat, you know that right?” you joke, smirking around your mouthful of toast.

“I can sure as hell try,” Eddie says, pressing his index and middle fingers to either side of his head, humming while he does it as if summoning the food to him.

You laugh, the brightest little sound, before you go back to eating as normal. You don’t see his smile fade yet again as he starts to pick at the food on his plate, his appetite suddenly dwindling.

The last week had taken its toll on Eddie, to say the least. This time of year always tended to be a bit hard on him, making him reminisce on the days when his mom was still alive and reminding him that his dead-beat father couldn’t be bothered to spend the holidays with his only son. Christmas was a time for family gatherings, and Eddie didn’t have family to gather with. He had you, and the rest of the friend group, and Wayne, but it just isn’t the same as having a complete and loving family. He found himself wishing for the Christmas-card picturesque familial comfort, and his heart ached at the lack of it.

Then, to bring his mood down even more, there was the incident at the grocery store. Just last night he’d been at the store with you, picking up some alcohol for the get together at Nancy’s. You’d been following close behind him as he’d roamed the aisles, your hand wrapped around his arm. Soft laughter and warm smiles were exchanged as you waited in the checkout line, inviting the eyes and judgments of onlookers.

“What a shame that poor girl got roped in with the Munson boy,” an older woman had said to her friend as they walked by. “She could do so much better than that…” she remarked, looking Eddie up and down in a way that could only be displeased. He met their eyes, only to have them turn up their noses in response and walk away.

You hadn’t heard the comments, had been too busy selecting a candy bar to snack on, your fingers sifting over crinkly paper before deciding on a Kit-Kat. Eddie tried to shake the stranger’s comment off, really he did, but he found his brain clouded with it. Sometimes he was so good at letting things roll off of his shoulders, but he’s felt it getting harder and harder. The whole night at Nancy’s, he couldn’t stop thinking about what the woman had said; couldn’t stop thinking about the way she looked at you like she pitied you, simply for being near him. The worst part is, this isn’t the first time he’s noticed people judging you and him together. Not even close. Everywhere he goes with you, he feels like he catches dirty looks.

It makes him feel like even more of a screw-up than he already does, simply adding to the emptiness that resides within his body. In his head, he feels like that woman at the supermarket was right. You could do better than him. Why did you bother with the town freak when you could have anyone?

“Hey,” you say now, blinking at him from across the sticky tabletop. Your voice is like a shining flashlight through the fog of his thoughts, bringing him out of the murkiness. “Are you alright? I thought you were starving,” you worry, concern etched into your facial features.

He looks down at his plate, realizing he’d been dancing his fork around the porcelain and stabbing mindlessly at the now-room-temperature eggs. He’d taken a single bite of his toast and nothing more.

“Did those eggs do something to you?” you ask, playing tough, trying to get a smile from him. “Do I need to teach them a lesson?”

“Yeah, actually, they called me some pretty mean names,” he joins in, rolling his eyes, but it’s half-hearted. You notice this, able to read him like a book, but you don’t press the issue.

Instead, you simply reach across the table, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. Squeezing yours in return, he tries to brush away the depressing thoughts that had berated him, and he eats his bacon and the rest of his toast before you both get up to leave. He knows he shouldn’t torture himself like this, but it’s hard not to when his whole life he’s felt like he wasn’t quite good enough.

When you arrive at your place, he walks you to the door of your building, ever the gentleman. Trying desperately to savor these moments with you without letting the town’s collective opinion of him ruin them. His heart flutters when your pretty eyes look up at him, your gentle fingers brushing against the sleeve of his coat.

“I don’t really want you to go,” you say, laughing a little but turning away as you do it, like you don’t quite want him to see.

“I don’t wanna go either. Hate leaving you,” he says, tilting his head to the side as he gives you a tiny pout.

You stand in silence for a moment, just looking at each other. The tension hangs thick in the air, and Eddie swears he could reach out and slice it with his fingernail. His heart thumps in his chest, he wonders if you can hear it from where you stand. And then, before he can truly even process it, you’re leaning in and he’s leaning in and then his lips are on yours and oh, god.

He’s never felt lips softer than yours, never felt sparks like the ones he feels right now. The kiss doesn’t last long, but in his mind it felt like he’d been frozen in that moment for hours. He can feel his cheeks flush when you’ve pulled away, but as he looks at you his heart just sinks.

You could do better than him. This is a mistake. He can’t let you do this to yourself.

He suddenly wants to sprint as far as he can away from you, he wants to curl up into a ball and hide away for eternity. He feels unstable, like the earth beneath him could crumble at any minute. His gut is telling him to leave, to go home and shut himself in to think. But at the same time, the way you look at him makes it so hard to go. You chew on your lip, giggling as he gives you a soft look and decisively tells you he has to get home. His breathing is a little shaky, and he hopes you didn’t notice.

“I’ll see you soon?” you ask, holding onto his arm.

“Yeah, see you soon.”

Your smile is persistent as you open the door to your building, waving at him through the small glass window. He offers a wave in return, before he turns heel and all but books it back to his van. He feels like he could collapse, like everything is crashing down around him.

To this town, he’s a fuck up, and maybe they’re all right. Maybe he needs to get out, to go somewhere where he can start fresh. Be someone new, not just a Munson.

His mental spiral only worsens as he drives to the trailer park, his thoughts racing in his mind. He hears principal Higgins from a few years back, he hears his neighbors, he hears the PTA moms all calling him a failure, a freak, a weirdo. A burden.

By the time he gets home, he feels like the answer to his problems is already decided. It’s been a slow boil over the course of the last week, a nagging thought that fades in and out of his brain. Now it’s finally coming to a head. There’s too many bad memories in this town, too many people that want him gone.

He needs to leave Hawkins. He needs to leave you.

Present Day: December 18th, 1989.

Initially, right after he’d left, the gang had tried reasoning with him, begging him over grueling phone calls to just come home. He’d felt horrible about it, but he said no every time. He truly wanted to make something of himself, something that he felt Hawkins could never give him.

But then, getting his foot in the door in the music industry like he had hoped was not as easy as it was made out to be. The guy at the local recording studio had laughed at him when he’d inquired about booking a session to record a demo-tape. He’d laughed harder when Eddie had asked if the recording studio itself was hiring. He couldn’t even land a job at the local record store, and he felt like his failures were just piling up. His first job in the city had been at a small book store, but they ended up letting him go due to their lack of need for his help. Not enough foot traffic, the owner had said. Not worth keeping Eddie around for one shift a week, he’d grumbled.

He’d had several failed job interviews after, growing more and more frustrated after each one. Bills and other expenses were piling up with each passing day he spent jobless, and he guiltily accepted the little bit of money Wayne insisted on sending him to help him get by. He struggled along until he finally scored a job at the big department store down the street from his place. It wasn’t glamorous, by any means, but it paid the bills… barely.

That was another thing. His rent raised unexpectedly a couple months after his move, and he’s been living essentially paycheck to paycheck ever since.

He finds himself missing Hawkins more than he ever thought he would, and it kills him every day. More than anything, he misses you. Every day he thinks about you, yearns for you, wonders what you’re up to. Most of all, he thinks about that kiss. That single, stupid kiss that you’d shared. It had been earth shattering, and looking back he isn’t sure why that wasn’t his reason to stay. Instead, it pushed him further away.

His pride had gotten the best of him, not letting him admit defeat and move back to Indiana because he wanted to seem like he had everything figured out. He couldn’t stomach the thought of returning after a couple short months and looking like a failure to everyone. Frequent phone calls home to Wayne helped him stay sane, and he tried to keep his tone upbeat for his uncle but he should’ve known all along that the man knows him too well to buy it.

That’s why, when Eddie picks up the phone for the second time tonight and dials Wayne’s number, the man on the other end isn’t surprised to hear the way Eddie’s voice cracks or the sniffles that he tries to hide. It’s why he instantly requests that Eddie tell him what’s going on, because he just knows.

And Eddie pours his heart out.

“I can’t do it, Wayne. I can’t fucking do it,” he sniffs.

“Don’t talk like that, boy, what’s got you worked up?”

“I’m miserable here. I thought this was the right choice, but it couldn’t have been further from it.”

Wayne is silent on the other end, but Eddie can hear his steady, calm breathing. He keeps going.

“Sunny won’t talk to me, and— and I deserve that, but I miss her. I miss you, I miss my friends, I fucked up, Wayne,” Eddie’s voice is raw as he talks, frustrated tears streaming down his face. “Chicago is not what I wanted it to be. It didn’t create some magical new life for me. I have virtually nobody here that gives a shit.”

There’s silence again. In this moment Eddie is so wound up he almost snaps at his uncle, but then he doesn’t need to, because his voice comes through the line.

“So come home,” Wayne replies, like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“What?”

“Come home. Book a flight and get your ass here, I’ll help you pay for it. There’s still time to make it by Christmas.”

It’s like a lightbulb goes off for Eddie, in that moment. Why can’t he just come home? What’s so hard about it? He’d been telling himself no, acting as though he had to stay in Chicago. But what was he running from?

Maybe he just needed that final push. Someone to tell him point-blank to cut the crap and come home. He should've been confiding in Wayne all along. And then it all falls into place, as Eddie stews in the realization that there’s nothing truly holding him back from going home except for himself. He’d created this narrative in his head; that he needed to leave Hawkins and that no one benefited from his presence. What if that was all… bullshit? He’s been forcing himself to stay in a city he hates… for what? He slumps back in his chair, letting Wayne’s words sink in, nodding his head slowly as he thinks.

By the time he gets in bed for the night, he knows what he has to do. He knows he’s made a lot of mistakes in his lifetime, but his worst one was leaving you. Settling in under his thick comforter, his stomach turns with anxiety and excitement. He barely sleeps a wink, but for once, he isn’t mad about it when he wakes up the following morning.

Present Day: December 21st, 1989.

Eddie’s hands shake as he steps out of his cab, his breath shallow with his nerves. In a couple of short days he’d packed up his life in Chicago to leave this place behind for good. He’d left a note on Argyle’s door explaining his departure and thanking him for all of the smoke sessions, and he’d tossed his keys at the always-rude front-desk receptionist before walking out of that building for the last time.

He shuffles in through the revolving doors at the airport, hands nervously wringing around the strap to his duffel bag. Wayne had been right, of course, there was plenty of time to make it home for Christmas and Eddie had secured a flight to Indiana rather easily amidst the holiday craziness. He hadn’t told a single other soul he was coming home, and he knew Wayne certainly wouldn’t share the news without his permission. He wanted to surprise everybody, wanted to fix what he’d broken last year, and he could only hope that he would be welcomed by his friends. You were his biggest obstacle, the thing making him the most nervous, but he was more than ready to see your face again and to never let you go this time. Somehow, he’d make it right.

He takes a deep breath as he heads towards his gate, then another.

This is it. He’ll be home in Hawkins for Christmas.

taglist: @hellfirenacht @writethrough @littledemondani @prettyboyeddiemunson @trashmouth-richie @succubusmunson @likedovesinthewnd @tlclick73 @mrsjellymunson @idkitsem @svbrbnlegends @eddiesxangel @munsonzgf @hereforshmut @eggo-segual @joannamuns9n @lavendermunson @leenameh @micheledawn1975

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson angst #i’ll be home for christmas #support banner by cafekitsune

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nebraskas · 5 months

Text

4/26/24 Nebraska/IA Tornadoes

a continuously updated list of resources

last updated 4/27/24 at 8:13 AM CST; find how to help those affected at the bottom

All

Aid/Assistance/Reunification

If you are disabled and impacted by tornadoes, call Disability & Disaster Hotline 800-626-4959 or email [email protected] (per The Partnership for Inclusive Disaster Strategies on X)

Nebraska Humane Society can house animals that need emergency shelter. Contact Animal Control at 402-444-7800 ext. 1. (per NE Humane Society on X)

Footage

Images and videos from across the storm's path.

Bennington

Aid/Assistance/Reunification

Three Timbers Church - S 2nd and Warehouse Street, St. John's Lutheran Church - N Molly Street and Howard Lane, and City Hall - 156th Street and Warehouse Street are all locations to find assistance. (per KETV7)

Clean Up

13505 N. 216th St. in Bennington needs to keep several things in mind:

The landfill will be open 6 a.m. to 3 p.m. on Saturday.

Green debris limbs must be cut into pieces 4 feet or smaller.

Debris can be mixed.

Home appliances and hazardous materials are not accepted.

(per KETV7)

Blair

Aid/Assistance/Reunification

The Red Cross has set up a location at First Lutheran Church at 2146 Wright Street (per KETV7)

Elkhorn

Aid/Assistance/Reunification

A Facebook page where people are offering resources

Common Ground Recreation Center at 1701 Veterans Drive will serve as an overnight shelter for those affected and pets. (per KETV7)

Anyone needing relief or assistance due to the storms, St. Patrick’s at 204th and Maple Street is your go to. Do not go for unrelated reasons. (per Omaha Scanner on X)

Command Post has moved to 204th and West Maple in St Patrick’s Church parking lot. Media staging is now at the Walgreens parking lot at 202 W Maple (per OPD on X)

Currently there is a reunification center being established at Elkhorn Middle School located at 3200 N 207th street for parents. (per Douglas County 911 on X)

PETS: PetSmart Veterinary Services is at the Walgreens at 202nd and Maple in Elkhorn for pet triage and stabilizing services for animals needing care from tornado injuries. (per Brian Beech on X)

Clean Up

Pheasant Point Landfill as a debris drop-off location, closes at 3 PM today (per KETV7)

Damage

Residents who have suffered damage to their homes in today's severe weather event should call 2-1-1 or go online at http://dogis.org/211 to make a report. (per Douglas County on X)

Omaha

Aid/Assistance/Reunification

Heartland Hope Mission has two locations in west and south O that offer help. West - 15555 Industrial Road, South - 2021 U Street (per KETV7)

How to Help

NE Humane Society is taking food and litter donations at 8929 Fort Street; also accepting monetary donations. (per NE Humane Society on X)

On 4/27/24 at 7:30 AM there will be a meeting at Relevant Church 21220 Elkhorn Drive held by Rapid Response America to help with disaster relief. Bring your own PPE (gloves, long sleeved shirts, closed toed shoes) and you will have to sign a waiver. More info here.

A Facebook page where people can offer help

My City Church is partnering with other area churches to offer assistance. It's asking for volunteers to help in a variety of ways:

Meet at the Relevant center at 212th Street and West Maple Road at 7:30 a.m. Saturday. Volunteers are asked to bring chainsaws, trucks, trailers, shovels, rakes, brooms, garbage bags, etc. to help clean up

Meet at Brookside Elkhorn Campus at 9 a.m. Saturday. Volunteers need to bring necessary tools and work gloves.

(per KETV7)

#omaha #nebraska #lincoln #elkhorn #tornadoes #tornadoes24

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 2 years

Text

The Color of Blood

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: canon violence, mentions of blood, cursing

Word Count: 2,608

Summary: In this world, a person didn’t discover color until they locked eyes with their soulmate. As an agent of SHIELD, finding your soulmate was hardly a priority. Especially since you were currently dealing with the shocking discovery that HYDRA had been pulling the strings behind SHIELD actions this entire time. Life was all about timing, and you were about to find out that your timing was absolute shit.

You shifted in the seat uncomfortably. Natasha, to your right, shot you an apologetic look, but it was hardly sincere considering the smirk she wore. You had drawn the short straw, so you were sitting bitch between her and Agent Sitwell. More like Agent Judas. You were still in shock that an organization you had dedicated most of your life to had actually been HYDRA infested this entire time. Of all the missions you ran, you wondered how many had been fueled by HYDRA’s goals and desires. It physically hurt your heart to linger on that thought.

“HYDRA doesn’t like leaks.” Sitwell snapped as he leaned towards where Sam was driving. His thigh pressed up against yours and you were not discreet in shoving him off you.

Sam shook his head, eyes on the road, “Then why don’t you try sticking a cork in it?”

“Insight’s launching in 16 hours.” Natasha chimed in and you glanced down at the watch on your wrist.

You bit back an aggravated groan, “As per usual, we’re cutting this save the world thing kind of close.”

“That does seem to be our style.” Natasha hummed from beside you.

Steve glanced back with a nod, “We’re gonna use Sitwell to bypass the DNA scanners and access the helicarriers directly.”

“What?!” Sitwell shoved forward and you had to physically resist throwing his limb off of you. “Are you crazy!? That is a terrible idea.”

“Look, Sitwell--” You snapped in anger, but the low thud of something hitting the roof of the car made you pause as everyone’s eyes shot up. Seconds later an arm smashed through the backseat window, grabbed Sitwell, and ripped him out of the car. You turned just in time to watch a large truck smash into the man. The arm disappeared from view and you heard the familiar sound of a gun. “Nat!”

Your old friend was already ahead of you. She leapt forward, into Steve’s lap, as a bullet fired down into the backseat to your right. Natasha called out your name, but just like her you were already moving. You reached up front grabbing Sam’s shoulder. A bullet fired toward Steve, Natasha yanking him forward and out of the way, and another was fired at Sam, but you were able yank him to the side so it hit the headrest.

Steve reached out and slammed the emergency break bringing the car to a screeching halt. Natasha rolled off Steve onto the floorboard and your own head slammed forward into the edge of the seat. It caused you to bite down on your lip hard, and when you brought your finger to your mouth a warm liquid coated your fingers.

People told you blood was red, and you weren’t entirely sure what that meant, it wasn’t something you could picture, but the shade of gray on your fingers was immensely familiar to you. Over the years, you had become well-versed in that particular shade of gray.

All eyes looked forward as the man on the roof, who had flown off, managed to flip over and land with ease. His metal fingers digging into the asphalt bringing up bright sparks. He slowly stood up, and you only hesitated for a second before pulling your gun out of your holster and aiming it forward. Before you, or Natasha, could get a single round out, something slammed into the back of the car forcing you forward again as glass exploded behind you.

“Fuck!” You barked in both jarring surprise and pain. You managed to keep your hand on your weapon as the car slid forward, but the Winter Soldier leapt from the road and landed back on top of the car. Sam slammed on the brakes, but it only filled the air with the sound of squealing tires since the men behind you were still ramming into your car. You turned and fired a round of shots, but not a single one pierced the bullet proof glass.

When you turned to reload, you watched as a metal hand crashed through the windshield, grabbed the steering wheel, and ripped it out. Sam leaned back in surprise and barked, “Shit!”

Natasha, who got a hand on her weapon again, fired rounds into the roof while you struggled to get a new clip into your gun. The Winter Soldier jumped off the roof and onto the front of the car behind you. Finally reloaded, you began to turn so you could fire, but the truck slammed into the car again and suddenly the car spun sharply to the side.

It was going to flip.

Steve realized this the same second you did, and he caught you off guard when he reached into the backseat, his fist tightly bunched into your shirt, and ripped you into the front seat.

“Hang on!” He yelled and the next moments were a blur. The kind of blur you assumed only a super solider would be able to follow. One moment you were in the car, and the next you were lying on Steve’s chest, beside Natasha, with Sam pressed on top of you. Sparks flew around the group of you as the car continued to roll, while the car door slid along the road. It all happened in seconds, and it couldn’t last. Sam slipped off first, rolling off to the side, and you were the next to fall off while Steve and Natasha continued to careen down the road.

Your body slammed into asphalt hard and the world around you spun a few times as you rolled along the hard surface. When you finally stopped it took a second to catch your breath and gather your bearings. Despite the pain, you pushed yourself to stand. Sam was off to the side, in good enough condition, and hiding behind a car. Up ahead were Steve and Natasha.

The truck stopped and you watched in shock as the Winter Soldier was handed a grenade launcher. A curse was half out of your mouth as you realized you had lost your gun in the fray and the Soldier fired his own weapon. Steve threw his shield up in time, but it hit him dead on and sent him flying back. Steve clipped the hood of a car, flipped over, and then disappeared off the side of the bridge.

Natasha’s eyes caught yours and you nodded once. Years of working together meant words often weren’t needed. She’d be on the bridge with Sam, you needed to cover Steve. Gunfire filled the air as you sprinted to the side of the bridge and jumped. When your feet left the concrete, you fired a zipline from the gauntlet on your wrist that dug into the concrete and rappelled you down just slow enough that you didn’t end up a smudge on the ground.

Steve had been thrown into a bus that now sat on its side. You unclipped the used cord and sprinted to the front of the bus. Screaming and gunfire still filled the air and you helped a few people near the front of the bus out of the vehicle while telling them to run to safety.

“Steve!” You yelled and ducked under the broken glass to get into the bus. You spotted the blond lying on his back slowly shifting up and made your way toward him. Each person you passed you dragged up and told them to run. “Steve!”

You grabbed his shoulder and helped him sit up. He grunted in pain, “Nat and Sam?”

“On the bridge, last I saw.” You replied. “Shield?”

“Lost it on the road.” Steve motioned to the front of the bus, “Get out. Get everyone on the street to safety. Now.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You turned and climbed out of the bus back onto the street. A familiar face ran past you on the other side of the street ducking behind cars. Natasha. That meant Sam was up there alone? You didn’t have time to linger on the thought. You ran forward and began to herd civilians out of crashed cars and down the street. The slamming of another car made you glance back to see the Winter Soldier land harshly on the roof of a car under the bridge.

Bad sign. Very bad sign.

Heavy artillery fire echoed behind you and you moved even quicker. As you sprinted down the street looking for Natasha with the Winter Soldier slowly stalking down the road towards the two of you, you spotted a small group of people huddled behind a car off to the side. You veered off the road to them.

“You can’t stay here, it isn’t safe.” You barked and began to drag them down the sidewalk. A car exploded into a ball of fire behind you. Shit, he was close. You ripped your jacket off, wrapping it around your arm quickly, and then slammed your elbow into the glass on a storefront door so it shattered. You reached in to unlock it, then herded the people inside, “Get all the way to the back and stay hidden!”

You dropped your jacket and didn’t bother picking it back up. Instead, you took off again knowing Natasha would be facing the Soldier alone if you didn’t get there in time. As you sprinted around the corner you spotted Natasha jump onto the Winter Soldier’s shoulders. She used a cord to try and choke him out, but his arm stopped the move entirely. You ran in, without hesitation, and slammed into the Soldier’s back with a grunt in hopes it would jar him enough that Natasha could get a grip. She managed to tighten the hold just a bit, but a thick leg kicked out, backwards, and the asset’s boot slammed into your chest sending you sprawling back and into the side of a car.

With a cry of pain, you fell forward onto your chest. You desperately sucked in a sharp breath, trying to regain the air you lost, and as you shifted to try and get up you felt your entire body ache. The ribs on your right side were broken, you recognized that pain. Natasha must have gotten thrown off too, she was across the road, and she gave you the signal to retreat before throwing a widow bite onto the Soldier’s arm.

Despite the pain, you sprinted toward her and as the Winter Soldier slumped over to try and regain control of his arm, you and her ran down the side road. This one was still crowded with people who were too panicked to listen when you told them to get the hell out of the way. Luckily for them, unlucky for you, it seemed the asset’s main focus was on the two of you.

A shot rang through the air and Natasha cried out in pain while stumbling forward. You cursed and grabbed her, pulling her behind a car, while she tried to refocus through the pain. A through and through bullet wound. Right shoulder. “Shit.” You mumbled again and pressed down on top of her hand that was already on her wound. That same familiar shade of gray leaked over both of your hands. “It’s bleeding too much.”

“Get the hell out of here.” Natasha hissed.

“No.” You snapped. “Not without you.”

She whipped around to look over her shoulder in panic, and when you followed her gaze you watched as Steve sprinted out of nowhere to attack the Winter Soldier. The metal arm punched out against the shield, like the ringing of a gong, and you breathed a quick sigh of relief.

“We gotta go. While Steve has him distracted.” You looped her arm around your shoulders and began to drag her away. Natasha began to complain through grunts of pain, but you didn’t slow down or argue with her. In a matter-of-fact tone, you spoke, “I’m getting you to a safe spot and then I’ll help Steve.”

You got her to cover behind a van, and ignoring her yelling after you, ran back out to where you had left Steve. When you got back, Steve was just standing there. The Winter Soldier stood between the two of you, facing Steve, but all you could see was the look of disbelief on your friend’s face.

What the hell was going on?

Why had the fight stopped?

The Soldier raised his gun again, Steve was still frozen, but you only got another step forward when Sam dropped from the air from your right and kicked both his feet into the asset. The Winter Solider went careening to the side as Sam landed. Now you had him surrounded, Steve to his right, Sam in front of him, and you to his left. You stepped forward with arms ready for a fight. Did you think you could come out of a tussle with the Winter Soldier alive? Absolutely not. But, you could keep him from escaping past you while the others closed in.

Sirens could be heard in the distance, the asset stood back up from where he had fallen and you realized now you could see his face. He no longer had the mask on, and he was… vaguely familiar? Where had you seen that face before? Before you could ponder a second longer on that, his glaring eyes dragged from Steve to Sam and then from Sam to you. The moment your eyes met his though, it felt like your world had fallen out from under you.

Shades of gray and black turned brighter and with every blink something new flooded your senses. It was too much all at once. Your once bleak world exploded with color and you sucked in a sharp breath as your arms fell to your side. In fact, you were so distracted by the vivid scenery around you that it took you a few moments to realize the cause of this had been the Winter Soldier. HYDRA’s number one asset. The man who had been trying to violently murder all of you less than thirty seconds ago.

If the Soldier was surprised, you didn’t see it. He suddenly lunged to the left just as something hit the car behind him sending it up in flames. A grenade. You had been just a bit too close and the force of it sent you sprawling back. The back of your skull bounced off the asphalt and suddenly the oh so colorful world seemed to be spinning. Dazed, you stared up at the sky.

The blue sky.

Your hand reached back to touch the warmth dripping from your head and when you shakily brought you hand back into view, blood coated the fingers. Red blood. Oh.

So, that’s what red looked like.

Still stunned from the blow, you struggled to sit up, but you were only a few inches up off the ground when someone grabbed you and threw you over their shoulder. The movement made your world spin again and you groaned out in pain as you hung limply over the broad shoulder that was now carrying you. You heard your name being called out, but sounds were beginning to grow dim. Replaced with ringing.

“Steve?” You mumbled in hopes. He had broad shoulders. Maybe he was the one carrying you away. You blinked your blurry eyes a few times as they briefly came into focus as you stared at the back of the person carrying you. Black leather. Steve hadn’t been wearing black leather. The ringing grew louder as your eyes fluttered close. Your entire world went black before you could connect the dots on what was happening.

[next chapter]

#marvel #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #winter soldier x you #winter soldier x reader #steve rogers #sam wilson #natasha romanoff #soulmate au

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cosmic-spider · 6 months

Text

Weclome to Gravity Falls

Lake cryptic >>

Looked out the window of the bus as it passes tall Pine trees. You here your two friends a few sets behind you talk and joke around.

You had came with your two friends Mable and Dipper Pines. To spend your summer in a small unknown town called Gravity Falls.

The place sounded familiar to you, but you brushed it of. Dipper and Mable were going to be living in there Grate Uncle Stan's house called the Mystery Shack.

The S on the sign on top of the roof fell of. So it said Mystery hack instead. You on the other hand we're going to be in a cottage farther out in the woods.

So when you three got off the bus arriving in the town. The three of you agreed that you should all got things settled first. Then meet up at the Shack

As you told the twins that you would fallowed the detections on your phone of where the cottage was. You eventually found were the cotta would be.

In a big clearing in the woods the size of a football field. You looked around to see if anything was close by. After making sure the cost was clear you moved a rock of the side of a tree.

Under the rock was a hand scanner. Putting your hand on it. The scanner blue light scared your hand then it pricked your finder getting a blood sample.

The ground then started to slowly rumble as it then opens up as a small ordinary cottage house. You went inside and cleaned it up a bit since it was keeper neatly already.

Getting out of the cottage you then clapped your hands making the cottage to then shape shift into another looking home that was basically made in a giant tree.

You pulled out a key with a weird looking eye on it. Tre eye was black with a golden brown cat like ires.

The cottage was fantastic on the inside it took you a bit to clean up the place of its dust and spider webs. You then checked by our phone to see when the delivery truck was going to arrive.

You knew that this version of the house was the one you would be staying in the most. The other form was just a cover up. In a clap of your hand it can change from being one to the other. Even if you were inside of the house.

Looking at your the mirror in your room. You see what you look like. The way your hair was down to the shirts and shirt you had on.

Walking up the mirror you touch your right cheek and look into your eyes. "You know you need to keep this look of you want to stay hidden."

"It has to be this way."

"He told you you had to. Even if I want to tell the twins. You can't Y/n you know you can't."

shaking your head brushing off the felling, and get back to unpacking your stuff. As well as already getting things in there place.

Checking your phone you see that it was now 4 pm you arrived here around 1. "Well might as well get done groceries as well as other supplies."

As you walked into the forest bin the detection of the town you hear the muffled sound of a..... heavy stomping ?

Stoping in your takes you look around to see if anything is around you. "Naw it's probably a tree that fell down somewhere."

As you continue to walk you eventually made it to the town. It was true to its name it was small. It looked more like a neighborhood of stores. The so called Mall was only two stories tall plus looked to be the average size of a Walmart.

Plus a lot of things were so close together. There was a bar only two stores down from a library.

After a bit you got everything you needed. As you walked back to the forest you decided to pass by the Mystery Shack. When you turned the corner to get to the front door.

You see a giant monster made up of gnomes? You then see Mable and Dipper use a leaf blower as a rocket launcher to the giant gnome monster. Making all the gnomes scatter around the place.

You see how tired Mable and Dipper were, so you decided to not go up to them at the moment. So instead you continued your way to your home.

When you got back you put your stuff of the kitchen table. Then getting your phone to text the twins.

They both said that it was ok that hey also had a tough day getting settled in as well.

After getting all the food into the fridge and pantry. Plus cleaning and other hygiene stuff in place/ stock.

You went to your room as got changed and got into bed.

》 ━━━━━━━━━ ⊱✫⊰ ━━━━━━━━━ 《

Time skip

The next day you wake up and do all your morning routine stuff. You then when over to your closet and moved some Jacket to reveal a secret door.

Opening it showed that it healed a not of glass containers with a orange looking liquid inside of it. You take on of the bottles and drink it all down. "Plah this tastes awful." Then changed into something cute.

Plus making your breakfast and taking some cash with you in case. Walking in the detection of the shake you see that's were are a few cars parked outside of it. Probably tourists.

Go into the shake throw the Gift shop area. You see a another teenager at the register. She had red hear and a green plad button up shirt with some boots on with a lumberjack hat on.

She had her feet up on the rejuntes desk as she read a magazine. Of to the other side of the gift shop. Was a tall middle aged man that had a green shirt with a question mark on it, and a brown cap on.

He seemed to be a handy was as he was fixing up a shelf and had a tool belt on. Walking over to the teen so see if the twins were here.

"Hey are Dipper and Maple Pines here?" The teen looked over at you from the side of her magazine before putting it down on the counter. "Yeah there here. Just give me a second."

She then got up and went over to a door next to the vending machine and yelled into the door. "Mable! Dipper! There's someone here for you!" You jumped a bit at the sudden yell she did for the twins.

She then got back to where she was. "Your not from here." She said as she then looked throw her phone.

" No I'm not. How could you tell?" You asked as you took a seat on a barrel next to her.

"Well when you live in a small town like this. You basically know everyone that lives here." The teen said then put her phone back into her pocket.

"So what's your name and how do you know the Pine twins?"

"Oh sorry forgot to introduce my self there. Im y/n and I'm a friend of the twins that is also staying here for the summer."

"That's cool. How come your not staying here at the Mystery Shack?"

Well I'm staying in a cottage that's a bit farther out in the woods from here. (Quick y/n come up with a excuse) "It's a old family house, but I'll be in it for the summer."

"Oh that's nice plus you have a cute dress. I'm Wendy Corduroy by the way" she raised her fist to you.

"Well nice to meet you Wendy." You retired the jesters giving her a fist bump.

The sound of two running foot steps were heard. As the twins then came throw the door of the inside of the Shack.

"Y/N YOUR HERE!!" Mable yelled out as she tackled you with a hug. That badly slowed you to breathe.

"Mable. I can't. Breathe." You patted her on the back to try to tell her to let go.

"Mable let go y/n can't breathe" Dipper came up to his sister.

"Oh sorry y/n. I'm just so excited to see you again" Mable said as she let go of you.

"Mable you say me yesterday. Your acting like I've been gone for the past month." You said as you got your breath back.

"Well might as well since we didn't get to show you the shack yesterday." Dipper chimed in as be patted you on the back.

"Oh your right Dipper we should show her around the shack. Then many the town to." Mable said as she then started to jump around me and Dipper.

Well I already went into town yesterday. So all I need to see is the Shack." You told them, but Mable then grabbed your hand and ran farther into the shack. Dragging you in the process.

But before the two could even start the tour. They were stoped at the door by a old man in a suit.

"Wow there you two. You may be living in my shack but that dose not mean I'll let your little friend in." He stud in front of us as he blocked the path.

"Aww come on Gruncle Stan. You can make an exception for y/n PLEASEEEEEE" Mable said as she then gave him the puppy dog eyes.

"Ok ok. Stop with the dog eyes Mable. I swear umm going to go blind if you do." Stan said as he then rubbed his eyes.

"Ok fine she can come over to the shack but you got to give me something in return. If I'm going to let you come here?" Stan said as then looked at me. "So what do you have to offer kid?"

You then went through your purse and got out a stack of money. "Well I have about 650$ on me."

The twins and Stan look at you in disbelief. Then grabs the stack of cash putting it into his pouches.

"Ok it's sealed you can come over to the shack when ever you want kid!" Stan said with a smile on his face as he pushed the three of you into the house part of the shack.

"Oh my name is actually y/n!" You tried to correct him. But a new group of tour cam into the shop getting Stan distracted.

"Well um either way let's go show you the shack y/n" Dipper said as they continued to walk.

"Yeah! Oh here's the living room!" Mable said as she pulled you to the living room that had a tv and one yellow couch infront of it. Then a dinosaur skull next to it. The room also had a long aquarium next to the wall.

》 ━━━━━━━━━ ⊱✫⊰ ━━━━━━━━━ 《

Time skip brought to you by the twins showing of the shack and ending it in the empty attic.

“That's the whole Shack y/n!" Mable said as we went up the empty attic.

“ I’m a lot surprised that Stan has a few weird things around the place." You said as you got on the ledge next the stain as window.

"Either y/n I found a weird Journal in the woods yesterday." Dipper said as he then grabbed a old looking maroon colored journal. That had a gold six fingered hand on top with the number 3 on it.

"Wow?! so what dose it have in it?" You said as you got up and looked over his shoulder.

"Well almost anything!" It's a journal that has a lot of weird creatures from this town.

"Yeah it helped us yesterday when some gnomes said I was going to be there queen blah!" Mable said as she she did some type of craft of to the side.

" Mables right y/n. At first It was amable dating some guy Norman. I was skeptical at first and thought he was a zombie from the journals descripción." Dipper said as he flipped throw a few pages before stopping at the zombie titled one.

"But in reality it wasn't a zombie at all. It was actually a bunch of gnomes in a discuses. They wanted to make amable there queen." Dipper then flipped a few pages back to another page with gnomes in it.

After a good hour of two Stan told the twins that they would be going to the store to get a few things.

"Oh well we got to go y/n." Dipper said as he got up.

"Oh what if you come with use?!" Mable said as she jumped up and down.

"Sorry maybe next time since I went shopping yesterday. But Dipper do you mind if I can look through the journal and take a few picks of it while your gone?"

You asked as the three of you went down the stairs to the front door.

"Sure I don't mind. Here take it you can give it back to me tomorrow when you come back." Dipper handed you the journal as they then got into Stan's car and drove of.

As you made your way home you continued to read the journal and taking a picture of it after reading the page.

The writing was a bit hard to read since it was in cursive, but you could read it.

》 ━━━━━━━━━ ⊱✫⊰ ━━━━━━━━━ 《

Time skip

After a hour of reading the journal you arrived to one's of the final pages. It had a image of a figure that was triangle with a top hat and a bow tie.

The page was so ominous. Well the whole journal was, but something about this page specifically made you feel off. You kept getting the feeling that there was something else wrong with it.

You didn't even try to read the page deciding that you read enough about the journal for now. Taking a pick of the page closing the journal. Then doing your things to get reader to sleep.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

1 9 8 5/9 19/ 4 9 19 3 15 22 5 16 9 14 7/ 20 8 5 / 23 5 9 18 4 14 5 19 19/ 15 6/ 20 8 9 19/ 20 15 23 14

6 9 14 4 9 14 7/ 1 14 4/ 21 14 3 15 22 5 18 9 14 7/ 20 8 5 / 19 5 3 18 5 20 19/ 15 6 / 5 22 5 18 25 20 8 9 14 7

2 21 20/ 8 15 23/ 12 15 14 7/ 3 1 14/ 19 8 5 / 11 5 5 16/ 8 5 18/ 15 23 14/ 19 5 3 18 5 20/ 8 9 4 5 14

#gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #bill cipher #bill cipher x reader #dipper pines #mabel pines #gruncle stan #wendy corduroy #x reader

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