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sinnersweets · 2 months

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DogDay x Reader part 12

<-----part 11, part 13----->

A/N: Woo new part!!

The last three months have been busy for me. First with Christmas and New Years, then applying to Playtime to adopt, which got approved thankfully. So then I needed to attend an agency sponsored orientation session and once that finished, I needed to get ready for the home interview.

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It was the weekend and DogDay said I could take a few days off to get everything ready for the social worker. I had moved out of my apartment and bought a house. New year new home you know? I asked Sarah if she could help me unpack and she said yes. I was currently unboxing some stuff when my phone started ringing.

“Unknown number?” Is what I saw on my phone. I answered the phone and said, “Hello?” “Hi Angel!” DogDay?! Where the hell did he get a phone from? “DogDay?” “The one and only Angel.” I smiled and said, “This is a surprise, when did you get a phone?” DogDay laughed on the phone. “Oh no I don’t have one, but you just got one in your office!” “Oh? I didn’t know I was getting a phone.” I went over to the living room and sat down on the one chair I brought with me.

“Mhm which now means we can talk when you’re not here Angel! Isn’t that great?” “It is!” “So what is my lovely Angel up to now?” I playfully rolled my eyes and said, “I’m just unpacking some stuff that I brought over. I’m waiting for the moving company to bring over the rest of the stuff and the new stuff that I bought. Sarah is gonna come over and help later.” “I still can’t believe you’re gonna adopt Damian Angel.” “Haha what do you mean? You’re the one who told me to remember?” It sounded like DogDay was moving around my office. “I remember Angel. Hey! You didn’t tell me you had my letter laminated.”

I thought for a moment before remembering what letter it was. “Oh yeah, haha. I really loved it.” I looked over to my wall and the only picture I had hanging now was the one DogDay gave me for Valentine's Day. The original one was also laminated but it was here with me. The one in my office was a copy I made. “You should sing me my letter some time.” “Oh yeah? Well Angel, my voice isn’t as good as yours, but I’ll do my best. I’ll sing it to you when you come back.”

The sound of the doorbell spooked me a little. I got up from the chair and looked the peep whole and saw that it was the movers. “I’ll hold you too that love. Hey the movers are here so I’ll call you back later.” “Poo. Alright Angel, I love you~” “I love you too~ mwah! Bye bye.” “Bye bye.” I unlocked the door and put my phone in my pocket. “Hi, sorry I was on the phone.” “Not a problem at all ma’am. If you can tell me which rooms are which so that we can put the boxes in the right room for you.” I nodded and stepped out of the way to let- I looked at his nametag quickly before he walked past me- Adam. That was his name. I moved so that Adam could come in.

He looked around and I led him to the first room but my picture on the wall caught his attention. “Oh hey, what was his name again? Day-Day? No um DoggyDay? Oh! DogDay! My kids love him. He your husband?” I think my neck popped with how fast I turned to look at him. “Huh?! N-no he’s just my boyfriend.” Adam nodded and said, “Oh, apologize. I thought he was since people these days can now marry almost anything now.” I had forgotten about that law. It just started this year that anyone can marry anything, be it robots, or other characters from different stuff. I don’t think me and DogDay could get married though. He’s owned by Playtime. Just then an idea popped in my head.

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Once I showed Adam around, he and his team brought in everything and placed them in the rooms that they were meant to go in. Not long after Sarah came by and helped unboxing some stuff. After a few hours we decided to go have lunch. It was a nice day outside, so we had lunch outside the restaurant.

“Thank you again for helping me Sarah.” I said before sipping on my tea. “No prob. Not like I had anything else to do.” I couldn’t tell if she was serious or not. “You seem a little down, what’s wrong?” Sarah just chewed on her salad for a good two minutes before swallowing and said, “It’s my kid. She like has asthma and her inhaler ran out yesterday but like I can’t get her a new one because my stupid insurance doesn’t want to like cover for it and just for one inhaler is like $600!”

I was shocked. I had no idea that Sarah had a kid. “How old is she if you don’t mind me asking.” Another long pause from Sarah. She put her head down while saying, “She’s four years old, almost five.” Damn. I felt bad for Sarah. I was going to say something to her, but she spoke out first. “And don’t like ask me if my parents will like help me because they won’t. They cut ties with me once they like found out that their little fifteen-year-old was pregnant.” I saw tears stroll down her cheek. I handed her a napkin and she took it and wiped her eyes.

We didn’t say anything else after. Once we finished, I told her I needed to run into the gas station quickly to get something and she said she’d wait outside for me. In a few minutes I came back out and handed her an envelope. “Here.” Sarah stared at it before taking it and opening it up. Her eyes widened and before she said anything I put a hand up and said, “Take it. There’s a little extra in there in case you need anything else.” She had tears in her eyes and without a warning she hugged me. “Thank you, Y/N. You really are an angel.”

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It was now naptime at Playcare which meant there would be no interruptions between me and DogDay. We were both laying down on his bed. My back was to his chest and his arms were wrapped around my waist. “Ready for your song Angel?” “Mhm.” DogDay pulled me in closer to his chest. “It’s just like heaven; being here with you. You’re like an Angel; too good to be true. But after all, I love you, I do. Angel baby. My Angel baby~ When you are near me; my heart skips a beat. I can hardly stand on my own two feet. Because I love you, I love you, I do. Angel baby. My Angel baby~ Wooo who, I love you. Whoo, I do. No one could love you. Like, I do.”

As he sang out the rest of the letter, I closed my eyes and pictured what life would look like if DogDay and I were together outside of here. I then felt DogDay take off my headband and place a kiss on top of my head. “Did you enjoy my singing Angel?” I wiggled around and turned towards DogDay. “I loved it. You have quite the singing voice.” I leaned in and kissed him, and he returned the kiss back, pulling me closer to him.

My phone started ringing killing the moment. I pulled away and looked at my phone and immediately groaned. “Let me guess, it’s your mom, right?” “Yep.” DogDay sighed and said, “She always ruins everything.” I laughed at how he said that. I answered the phone. “Hey m-” “Young lady how dare you not tell me that I’d get a call from a social worker asking me questions about you!” DogDay held back a laugh as I made a face. “Mom, I told you that- ah!” I was caught off guard as DogDay moved me onto his torso. My face felt a little flushed as I was now on top of him sitting up. DogDay had this look in his eyes, like he was about to do something. “Hello? Y/N?” “Sorry mom I uh, tripped.” My mom sighed and said, “This is why you’re always hurting yourself, you’re so clumsy. How are you going to raise a child?” Rude. “Listen mom if they didn’t think I could raise Damian then they wouldn’t have made me go through everything that I’ve done already. I have to home inspection coming up and-”

I stopped talking as DogDay grabbed onto my waist and with his fingers he raised up my shirt a little bit. My heart started beating faster, and I knew by now I was blushing. DogDay had a grin on his face. “As I was saying mom, I um have the home um thing soon and I know that umm..wait nonono hahaha!” DogDay started tickling me. “Hahaha wait no waiit hahahah” “Y/N? What on earth is wrong with you?” “Hahaha stop please! Mom I- haha have to call you b-back haha!” As I hanged up the phone DogDay said, “You’re not escaping me Angel~”

Five minutes he tickled me. Only five minutes and it felt like an eternity. DogDay moved his paws away and leaned up against the wall. I laid against his chest, trying to catch my breath from all the laughing I did. “My my Angel. I’d thought I’d have you breathing like that from another activity~.” He winked at me and I almost choked on my spit. “Wha huh??!!” “Just kidding.”

A/N: Be honest, you thought something else was going to happen >:p

#sinnersweets #poppy playtime #x reader #dogday #dogday x reader #poppy playtime chapter 3 #go on and admit it!#haha

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arlana-likes-to-write · 1 year

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Family

This story may contain themes that could be triggering.

Summary: When you save the life of the son of the Scarlett Witch and the Black Widow, your life is changed forever. For the first time in a long time you are given a family.

Warning: domestic violence, age difference relationship, rape, gun violence, injuries, miscarriage, manipulation, mention of suicide, DNI unless 18+

Word count: 5.6k

Sometimes you just acted. You didn’t think you just did. So when you were walking on your way to work you saw a young boy run out into the middle of the road, chasing after a ball and the car coming right for him wasn’t stopping, you acted. “Tommy,” You heard a woman yell. You ran to the boy, picking him up in your arms and changing your molecular makeup. The car passed through you and him You brought him back to the sidewalk and as soon as you set him down he became solid.

“Are you okay?” You asked. His eyes grew wide as he stared at you.

“Tommy,” you moved out of the way as a woman with auburn hair pulled him into a hug. “What did I say about not leaving the sidewalk?” You assumed the woman was his mother.

“Sorry Mom,” he said. “I dropped the toy Uncle Tony got me.” A redhead and another young boy joined the duo. You recognized the redhead right away. Natasha Romanoff. The Black Widow.

“Are you okay, kid?” She asked Tommy. He nodded and hugged the redhead. You looked at the other woman and you were staring into the green eyes of Wanda Maximoff.

“Thank you,” she said to you. “I don’t think we could ever repay you.” You blushed at the compliment, scratching the back of your head.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said. “I was at the right place at the right time.” You knelt in front of the two boys. “Now don’t go playing in the road anymore, okay?” You ruffled their hair. “I won’t be there to save you.” Tommy smiled.

“Thank you,” he said. You smiled, straightening up.

“Wait,” Natasha said, stopping you before you walked away. “At least tell us your name.” You introduced yourself.

“Bye,” you waved, continuing on your way to work.

“You're famous!” Your co-worker, Emilia, said as soon as you walked into the back room. You clocked in and put on your apron. You worked at a 24hr diner. It paid decently and the hours were flexible so you could still go to school.

“What are you talking about?” You asked. She rushed over to you, her phone open to Twitter. Someone took a video of you saving Tommy and put it on social media. Needless to say, the video blew up. You groaned, placing your face in your hands.

“You should read some of these comments,” Emilia said, scrolling through her phone. “I could break a lot of people’s hearts and tell them your 16.”

“Gross,” you mumbled, walking into the kitchen. You heard Emilia close behind as you made yourself a coffee.

“How does it feel saving the kid of the Black Widow and Scarlet Witch?” You didn’t answer. “Were they hot?”

“You know I wasn’t looking,” you said, blowing on the cup before taking a much-needed sip. “I was a little focused on not making sure their son didn’t get killed.” You rolled your eyes.

“I bet they have a Mommy and Daddy kink,” you scrunch your nose.

“You are just as bad as half the people online,” you said. “Come on, we have work to do.” You tried to focus on your duties at the diner; cleaning tables, taking orders, and helping in the kitchen when needed, instead of what happened today. But the universe had other plans. Someone online found where you worked and shared it with the entire world. The diner was packed which was a blessing and a curse. The day flew by and you were leaving with a lot of tips in your pocket. However, you were exhausted since everyone that stepped through the diner wanted to meet and talk to you. They asked you questions about your powers, if you received something for saving him, were your parents proud, did they offer you a spot on the Avenger team. By the end of the day, you collapsed onto your bed thankfully you had the day off tomorrow.

It wasn’t as busy when you came in but you immediately saw the Romanoff-Maximoff family with 2 Avengers you didn’t recognize. You smiled as you walked up to the table. “Staying out of trouble?” You asked the boys. They gasped, turning around in their chairs.

“I don’t know you worked here,” Tommy said, standing up to hug you. You were surprised by that. But you gave him a quick hug back.

“That’s probably because I didn’t tell you,” you tapped his nose which caused him to scrunch it. Natasha introduced you to her sister, Yelena, and her girlfriend, Kate.

“You're the one that saved my nephew,” Yelena said. Her deep Russian accent surprised you. You nodded. “That’s pretty cool.”

“Thank you?” You didn’t mean for it to sound like a question. Wanda chuckled. “Anyways, can I get you guys started with drinks?” You didn’t mean to hover around their table and it wasn’t 100% your fault. Tommy and his brother, Billy, liked to talk your ear off no matter how many times Wanda told them you had other tables to attend to. But you waved her off, saying it was fine. Besides, their colorful imagination was making your shift fly by.

Until the bell went off signaling another customer entered the diner. You looked up out of instinct and almost dropped Kate’s pancakes. It was Jason, your on-again-off-again boyfriend, and housemate. He held the door open for an older couple as his eyes looked for you. It wasn’t hard to find you but you didn’t like the way his eyes screamed that he was upset with you. When he came in he liked you to only have him as your only table. He was best friends with the owner so he could get away with anything. Natasha said your name and you were surprised to see real concern in her green eyes. “Are you okay?” She asked.

“Yeah,” you put on your best customer service smile but she didn’t seem convinced. “Does everything look good?” A chorus of ‘yes’ and ‘looks good’ echoed from the table. “Perfect! I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if you need anything. Enjoy!” You brought back the empty tray to the kitchen before making your way to Jason’s usual spot, trying to calm your raising heartbeat.

It didn’t take a Black Widow spy or an Avenger to notice the change in your demeanor. Natasha watched as you walked over to a man, who had to be twice your age. You were blocking his face but Natasha didn’t like the way he was talking to you. She couldn’t hear the conversation but your shoulders were hunched over, drawing more into yourself. ‘Don’t cause a scene,’ Wanda said, placing a hand on her leg. ‘I don’t like it either.’ Natasha began to eat. The food was always good here but now it tasted bitter.

‘What do we do?’ The Black Widow asked. It took a minute for Wanda to reply as you came back to ask how the food was and if they needed anything. Yelena asked for more hot sauce. You were smiling, laughing at a joke Tommy said but it wasn’t as light. Natasha stole a glance at the man and he was staring at you as if he owned you like you were a possession. It made Natasha’s blood boil. He caught her eyes and quickly looked away.

‘We’ll leave her our number,’ Wanda said. ‘If she needs help she can call us.’ Natasha didn’t like it. She wanted to do more but what else could they do when they had no idea what was going on?

“Here you go,” Natasha passed you the check. “Food and service were amazing as always,” you felt your cheeks heat up at the compliment.

“Feel free to relax here there is no need to rush out but it was nice seeing you all again,” you said your goodbyes, not leaving the table without getting a hug from the twins. You went to finish cashing them out and you stopped in your tracks. Not because of the very large tip they left you but there was a note.

‘We are a phone call away if you need anything and I mean anything. -Natasha. Her phone number was at the end. You put that copy in your pocket and continued as you normally would, ignoring Jason’s eyes burning a hole in your back.

“You disgust me,” Jason said, throwing you against the wall. You whimpered as you hit your head. Stars formed across your vision. “After everything I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me.”

“Baby,” you pleaded with him. “It wasn’t like that.” He twisted his hand in your hair, pulling you close.

“Flirting with a married woman twice your age,” he pulled your hair. Another whimper left your lips. “You are a slut.” He threw you against the wooden table. It broke underneath your weight and the force he threw you. “You think you're a big-time hero, now. That you're better than all of us.” You shook your head, tears falling down your cheeks. He kicked you in the stomach so hard you were pushed against the couch.

“Jason, stop, please,” you pleaded with him grabbing onto his leg.

“You don’t get to tell me to stop,” he yelled. “You are mine. I own you.”

You woke up in the apartment alone and with your pants off. Everything ached and there was a light pounding in your skull. Jason was no doubt at a bar. You needed to get out of here. Finding your pants was easy but a sharp cramp in your stomach made you crumble to the ground. Finding some strength, you redressed yourself, found your phone, and walked out of the apartment. You weren’t sure where you were walking to. Your feet moved as your mind was in a haze. There was no place you could go. You were an only child whose parents died during the Blip. The friends you did have moved out of the city or were your co-workers from the dinner but you didn’t want them to see you like this. You sat down on a nearby bench. The pain was becoming all-consuming. You needed help. You unlocked your phone and stared at the recent contact added - Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, an Avenger. Did you want to drag them into this mess? Another shooting pain passed through your stomach as you listened to the phone ring. Maybe she wouldn’t answer and you would have to find a place to sleep tonight. “Hello? Who is this?” She answered on the third ring.

“N-Natasha,” you stuttered out.

“Y/n? Is that you?” You nodded, knowing well she couldn’t see you. “What’s wrong?”

“I need help,” you cried. “I-I d-don’t have anyone else to call. I’m sorry. I-” Your lungs began to hurt, you couldn’t get enough air.

“Hey, sh dorogoy,” Natasha whispered. “Where are you? Wanda and I will come to get you.” You heard rustling on her side of the phone.

“I don’t know,” you told her. “I left my apartment and just walked.” A sharp pain ran through you and gasped. “Everything hurts, Nat,” you cried.

“We will be right there, okay? Just stay right there and use your powers to keep yourself safe.” She told you. “I’m going to stay on the phone with you.”

“Okay,” your voice was slurred. “I’m sleepy.” You found yourself laying down on the bench.

“I know you are but you have to stay awake for me. Can you do that?” She asked. “Talk to me. Tell me about yourself.” You hummed.

“I’m an only child. My parents are dead and I have a tattoo on my spine. I-”

Natasha was listening as she paced her kitchen waiting for FRIDAY to trace the call. She heard three sets of footsteps coming down the stairs, one set much quicker than the other two. “Anything?” Wanda asked. The Black Widow shook her head.

“FRIDAY is still looking for her,” she heard Yelena yawn behind Wanda.

“Why did you wake us up?” Her sister asked.

“You can go back to bed but we need to watch the boys if they wake up,” Wanda explained.

“Is this about the girl who saved Tommy?” Kate asked, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Natasha nodded.

“I found her,” the AI said. “The location has been sent to your car’s GPS. She is 30 minutes.”

“Sweetheart,” Natasha said to you. “We will be there in 30 minutes.” You hummed.

“Nat,” Yelena said. The redhead looked back at her sister. “Keep us updated.” She nodded and followed her wife to the car. Wanda was already in the driver's seat. It was Natasha’s idea to get their place, close enough to the new Avenger tower but in a nice neighborhood for the twins to grow up in. The only thing Wanda wanted was a big kitchen, the rest was up to the Black Widow. Buying a house cemented the fact this was real to Natasha. She was married, raising two brilliant boys, and retired from active missions. Wanda grabbed her hand, squeezing it. She squeezed it back. She hoped they made it to you in time.

Natasha saw your still body laying on the bench and she was out of the car before Wanda could put the car in park. She hung up and ran over to you, kneeling next to you. “Hey sweetie,” she whispered. Wanda moved next to her. Your eyes fluttered open. A smile on your face.

“You came,” you whispered. Natasha’s heart shattered.

“Yeah, we did,” Wanda smiled. “Let’s get you someplace safe.” You nodded, sitting up and Natasha watched you try to hide the wince. “Can you stand?” You nodded again but when you stood up you collapsed, a pained cry leaving your lips. Natasha caught you in her arms.

“I got you,” your head fell on her shoulder, whimpering as you squeezed your eyes closed. Natasha didn’t miss the red flash in Wanda’s eyes. She only imagined what was going on inside your head.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “So sorry.”

“You do not need to apologize,” the Black Widow said. “I’m going to lift you, okay?” She felt you nod against her skin. She was surprised at how light you were in her arms.

“Nat,” Wanda whispered as they walked back to the car. The witch opened the backseat and the redhead gently lay you down. She closed the door. “She’s bleeding.” Natasha looked at her hands and they were tainted red with your blood.

“We’ll bring her to the tower,” Natasha ran to the other side of the car and got in next to you. She shifted so your head could rest in her lap.

“FRIDAY,” Wanda said to the AI. “Inform Cho we are headed to the tower with a civilian that needs immediate medical attention.” You whimpered.

“You're going to be okay,” the Black Widow whispered. You shook your head.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha watched your eyes flutter close, frowning. You kept muttering apologies as you succumbed to the darkness.

It took a lot for Natasha to let go of you to hand over to Helen and the medical team. She quickly went to the hallway bathroom to wash the blood off. The water turned a light pink. It was part of her job to be surrounded by blood but the sight of your blood on her hands caused her body to heat up with anger. She left the bathroom and found her wife sitting in the empty chairs in the hallway. “The boys are still asleep,” she said as the redhead sat down. “Yelena said she’ll get them ready for school so we can stay.” Natasha nodded, resting her head on the wall. She felt Wanda move her fingers through hers. “It had to be the man from the diner, right?”

“Maybe,” she whispered. They knew nothing about you. The internet seemed to be in love with you for saving Tommy but they didn’t know who you were or what you were a part of.

“I’ll kill him,” Wanda threatened. Natasha saw the tips of her fingers glow red.

“Easy little witch,” She mumbled, kissing the side of her head. “Let’s find out what happened first.” The glow died down. It felt like an eternity before Helen walked out of your room and towards the couple. “Is she okay?” Natasha asked, standing up.

“She will be,” Helen said. “She has 2 broken ribs, a possible concussion, and wood splinters that we had to remove from her arm. She was raped too we did a test,” she sighed, resting her hand on her chin. “Do you know how old she is?” The couple looked at each other shaking their heads. You were a few years older than the twins but not at Kate’s age. That meant you were between 14-18.

“Helen, what’s going on?” The doctor bit her lip.

“She was pregnant,” Natasha’s blood ran cold. “Whatever happened to her caused her to miscarriage.”

“How-how far along was she?” Wanda asked.

“I’m guessing 2 months,” Helen answered. “She’s asleep now. You can go see her and let me know if she needs anything.” They said their thank yous to the doctor and ventured into your room. It was quiet besides the gentle beeping of the heart monitor you were attached to. Natasha didn’t like how still you were beside the gentle rise and fall of your chest. They sat on either side of the bed.

“She’s just a kid, Tash,” Wanda said, brushing some hair out of your face. You didn’t move.

“I know, baby,” Natasha remembered you telling her that your parents were dead. Did you have anyone else? “We’ll be here for her.”

You woke up slowly. The bright lights overhead caused you to groan. “Sweetheart,” you turned your head towards Natasha’s voice. There was a smile on her face, almost motherly. “Hi, how are you feeling?”

“Water,” you whispered. Your throat felt raw and uncomfortable. Natasha brought a cup of water to your lips. You drank all of the water finding relief. “Thank you,” she put the cup down.

“Of course,” you sat up, wincing as you moved but you couldn’t look at Natasha.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you saw her nod her head out of the corner of your eye.

“That’s fine,” she said. “But there are some things we need to talk about regarding your health. We can wait for Wanda if you want,” you nodded.“Hey,” you felt her fingers on your arm. “We are here for you, okay? And whatever happened is not your fault.”

“Okay,” you whispered but you didn’t believe her. It wasn’t long before Wanda returned with a doctor behind her. She introduced herself as Helen and she went over the list of your injuries; broken ribs, a mild concussion, and wood splinters in your arms.

“Now, I have to tell you something that may be hard to hear,” you didn’t like her tone. “You were pregnant for about 2 months but due to the nature of your injuries you had a miscarriage.” You felt the color drain from your face. Pregnant. You were pregnant. You moved your hand over your stomach. Your periods were always irregular so nothing seemed wrong. You weren’t sure what was happening around you. The world around you turned to white noise. You were pregnant, probably with Jason’s child but you made him angry.

“Sweetheart,” you snapped to look at Wanda. She looked worried. “You're safe here. Do you know who the father was?” She asked. You hesitated but nodded. You weren’t 100% sure if it was Jason’s.

“Was he the one that did this to you?” Natasha hesitantly asked.

“It was my fault,” you defended him. “He loves me. He didn’t mean to hurt me.” Wanda whispered your name but you couldn’t look at her. Tears were blurring your vision.

“This isn’t love.”

“Yes it is,” you said. “He loves me and it was my fault -”

“Sweetheart,” Natasha touched your arm but you flinched from her. Her face fell.

“I think I want to be alone,” you told them. The couple glanced at each other, having a silent conversation. “Please.”

“Okay, we know this is a lot,” Wanda said, standing up. “We’ll come back later.” You didn’t acknowledge them as they left your room. You felt cold, so immensely cold, as your fingers danced around your stomach and each injury he gave you. Oh, how you wished your mom and dad were here. You missed your mom’s hugs and the scent that always seemed to calm you down or your dad’s corny jokes that brought a smile to your face. You angrily whipped the tears that fell. The worst part of them being gone, you didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.

To your surprise, Wanda and Natasha kept their promise and visited when they could. Their visits ended up being one-sided conversations - mostly them trying to get information on what happened. They asked for your age, Jason’s name and age, and if he worked at the diner. But you remained quiet. Too ashamed to tell them the truth about him. They weren’t deterred by your stand-offish behavior, it somehow made them more determined to make you feel comfortable around them. Rather it was Wanda, Natasha, or both of them, they brought you something. A blanket to keep you warm, books and magazines for you to read, and Tommy’s old DS to keep you entertained. They even contacted your school to explain your situation and collect your missing schoolwork.

It was odd, you had to admit, having people care about you. It didn’t make sense. What did you do to deserve their kindness? You were nobody compared to them. So why were they being so nice?

On a sunny afternoon, the couple snuck in a milkshake and french fries for you to snack on. You were sipping on the chocolate milkshake while Wanda was reading and Natasha looked over a mission report. “I’m 16,” you said to them, breaking the silence. “Technically speaking I was a part of the population that was blipped so I don’t know how that affects my age,” you put your drink down. “During those 5 years, my parents died; my mom from cancer and my dad from suicide. Jason gave me a place to live and food and loved me when I was alone.”

“How old were you when you met Jason?” Natasha asked.

“15,” your voice was barely above a whisper. “He was 25.” You began to play with the loose threads of the blanket they brought you.

“Is this the first time he’s hit you?” Your instinct was to lie like you did with Emilia and everyone else at the diner but it seemed like it was a bad idea to lie to two Avengers.

“No,” you whispered. “But this was the worst. He was mad at me and kept saying it was my fault.”

“What did he say that you did?” You felt your face burn as you remembered why he was upset. “You don’t have to tell us,” Natasha added quickly.

“He was..” Protective. Jealous. “Territorial,” you said. “He didn’t like me talking or flirting with other people. That was a lot of our fights and I stayed because I have nowhere else to go,” you sighed. “I bet you think I’m so stupid.”

“No,” Wanda took your hand in hers. “You are not stupid. He took advantage of you,” you whipped away the tears that fell with your free hand. “You are not alone. We are here.”

“And we aren’t going anywhere.”

When Helen cleared you Natasha and Wanda offered you a room with them. It took a lot of convincing but you moved in with them. Jason all but disappeared. He wasn’t there when you got the few possessions from the apartment and you overheard Natasha and Wanda in the kitchen one night that they still couldn’t find him. As you lived in the Romanoff-Maximoff household you all forgot about him. You forgot what this type of love felt like not having it since you were taken from your family. Wanda made sure all of your homework was done by the time dinner was ready. Natasha seemed to have food on her and she would pass you snacks. She even got you to join her on some of your runs.

It had been 4 months since you moved in with them. “Do you want us to see if Yelena or Kate can come over?” Wanda asked. The twins were playing video games in the living room and you were making a small snack for you and the boys. The couple had to go to the tower for a quick meeting. Although they were retired from active meetings they still help to provide insight. They didn’t like leaving you at home.

“We’ll be fine,” Tommy said.

“Besides Y/n is here,” Billy added. You rolled your eyes as Natasha walked over to you, stealing a grape from the plate. You glared at her.

“Are you sure you’ll be fine?” She asked you. You nodded.

“Yes, you said it will be a quick meeting,” you put the extra fruit back in the fridge. “And when you get back you can bitch about how the meeting should have been an email.” Natasha gasped.

“Language,” you smiled, bringing the fruit plate into the living room.

“We know the rules. Don’t worry about us,” you sat on the couch, your feet tucked underneath you, and opened the book you were currently reading.

“Text us if anything happens,” Wanda kissed the twins’ forehead and you were surprised as she kissed yours.

“Bye Mom,” the boys said. You smiled as they left the house. As the door closed Tommy let out a heavy sigh.

“They worry so much.” He said.

“They just care about you,” you defended, not looking up from your book.

“They care about you too,” Billy said. You glanced at the boy and he was looking at you with a smile. You smiled back and went back to reading.

You weren’t sure how long it was but Natasha and Wanda were still not home when the doorbell rang. You looked at the twins but they were engrossed with their video game. “Hey, are your moms expecting someone?” Billy shrugged.

“No clue,” the doorbell rang again. You sighed, closing your book. As you stood up a voice behind the door caused you to freeze.

“I know you're in there, little shadow. Come out to play.”

“Billy, Tommy, go upstairs and call your moms.” Jason started to giggle at the door handle.

“We can help,” Tommy said. They were training powers but they were still unpredictable.

“Go!” You ordered as the front door burst open. Tommy grabbed Billy’s hand and used his super speed to bring them both upstairs. Jason stood there, a pistol in his hand and he looked like he hadn’t bathed or slept in months. You just had to keep him away from the twins and wait till Wanda and Natasha got here.

“Hello beautiful,” he stalked over to you. “You got me in a lot of trouble.”

“Trouble?” You questioned, taking a few steps back with your hands in the air. You wanted to keep some distance from him. “Who are you in trouble with?” He laughed, pointing the gun at you.

“My employers,” his smile still seemed to send a chill down your spine. “Did you think I could ever willingly love you?” He asked. “You were a job, an assignment.” Your heart began to pound against your ribs. Could he hear it? You were backing up into the dining room.

“Who wants me?” You found yourself asking.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “You’ll be dead and I’ll crave up those little brats for good measure,” you let out a shaky breath and lowered your hands.

“You aren’t getting to them,” you said. “You’ll have to get through me first.”

Natasha was pouring a cup of coffee for her and Wanda. They were taking a short break before finishing up. She felt arms wrap around her waist and the warmth of her wife pressed against her back. “I wanna go home.” She whined. Natasha chuckled, turning around to see Wanda’s noise pinched. She kissed it.

“We are almost done, baby,” she handed Wanda her coffee. “I’m thinking of pizza and movie night?” Her phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket and saw it was Billy. Showing Wanda the caller ID before putting the call on speaker. “Hi, bud.”

“Mom,” he was whispering and his voice was shaky.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Wanda asked.

“The bad man is here,” he whispered. They weren’t sure what he was talking about. “The bad man that hurt Y/n.” The couple dropped their coffee on the floor and sprinted towards their car. “Please hurry.” A gunshot went off and both of the boys let out a quick squeak.

“Boys, I need you to stay right there,” Natasha said.

“But what if she’s hurt? We can help.”

“Stay hidden. We are on our way.”

Natasha felt her heart beating against her ribs as she saw their door broken down. They called out your name but you didn’t respond. The Black Widow had her gun out as she searched the bottom floor. They made it to their dining room and found a man laying on top of you. Natasha ran over, kicking the man off of you and his body slumped to the side with a bullet wound in his stomach. Your eyes were wide, hands shaking as you held the gun in your hand. “Hey sweetheart,” Natasha put her gun away. “Can I have that?” You nodded, handing her the gun. Natasha removed the magazine from the gun and put it on the ground next to her. Wanda knelt next to you and helped you sit up. Your eyes kept glancing at this still form but Wanda brought you into her arms, sliding you from the body. You were shaking in her arms. Natasha walked over to him and checked for a pulse but she shook her head when she found none. Wanda held you tighter.

“Billy and Tommy,” you whispered. “Are they okay?” Wanda.

“Do you want to go find them?” You nodded. Natasha sent a quick text to Sam and met her wife upstairs. You were waiting for her to emerge from their bedroom and didn’t take long for Wanda to bring out a new shirt for you. Yours had blood on it. You changed quickly, leaving the bloody shirt on the floor, and continued to the guest room. “Billy, Tommy, it’s safe.” The twins didn’t need to be told twice before they ran out of the closet and straight into you. The force knocked you to the ground.

“You can’t do that,” Tommy said, hitting your chest. “Why do you always have to be the hero?” He cried. “We could have helped.” He kept hitting you but his hits got softer while he cried against you.

“Hey,” Natasha said, kneeling and placing a gentle hand on his back. “I know you are feeling a lot but we need to stop hitting her.” You overcame your shock and hugged the twins tight.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt.” You said.

“But you're our sister,” Billy said. “We can’t lose you.” You looked at Natasha and Wanda at the term Billy called you. The couple smiled at you. They tried to convey all the emotions they were

“I’m right here,” you said. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

Wanda walked out of the bathroom with a smile on her face. Her bed was full of Natasha, the twins, and you. The boys were fast asleep, cuddling against you. There was just enough space next to Natasha for her to squeeze in. “We are going to need a bigger bed if this continues to be a thing,” Wanda climbed into bed. Natasha was running her fingers through your hair. “How are you doing, sweetheart?” You shrugged.

“I know he was bad and he would have hurt me or worse the twins but I didn’t want to kill him.” You whispered. Natasha sighed.

“I’m sorry you had to be put in that position,” Natasha said. You nodded, closing your eyes as you enjoyed the feeling of her hand. Wanda gently nudged her wife’s shoulder, nodding her head. “About what Billy said.” Your eyes shut open.

“Like you said there were a lot of emotions,” you shrugged again. Wanda tried to keep her powers at bay but she could feel loneliness washing over you.

“Well, Natasha and I want to make what Billy said official.”

“I’m sorry. What?” You questioned.

“We want to adopt you,” your jaw dropped and Wanda giggled, using her pointer finger to close your mouth.

“Are you serious?” You asked. The couple nodded. Tears swelled in your eyes and without hesitation you jumped up and brought them into a hug.

“Ah,” Billy gasped.

“Is there an Earthquake?” Tommy asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong?” You ended the hug and whipping the tears out of your eyes.

“Nothing,” you said. “Just happy.”

“Alright,” Wanda said. “We need to readjust so I don’t fall off the bed.” It was you in the middle with Tommy and Billy on either side and Natasha and Wanda still on the edge of the bed.

“Thank you,” you whispered, eyes closed as the exhaustion of the day caught up to you.

“No need to thank us,” Natasha whispered.

“We are a family,” Wanda said. “We’ll keep you safe.”

Part 2

#wandanat x reader #wandanat x daughter!reader #wandanat x daughter #wandanat #natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #yelena belova x kate bishop #natasha romanoff x you #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #tommy maximoff #billy maximoff #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #yelena belova #Kate Bishop #marvel #Marvel AU

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epicbuddieficrecs · 3 months

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Weekly Recap | January 29th-February 4th 2024

Ao3 history still fucked :/

Repeating again: if I've ever reblogged one of your WIP fics, consider this my permission to tag me in them!!

Complete

🔥 Say You Were Made to Be Mine by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Canon Divergent - Different First Meeting, Soulmarks AU | 11K | Teen): It's Valentine's Day 2018, and Eddie saves a man from choking to death in the middle of a restaurant. It's only after the man is rushed away by paramedics that Eddie realizes his hands are green. The man he saved is his soulmate. And he doesn't even know his name let alone how to find him.

For hope I'd give my everything by dragon_rider/ @evanbdiaz (Post S1, CW: Eating Disorders | 8K | Mature): After the disaster of his first date with Abby, Buck’s relationship with food changes rather dramatically.

where would you rather die by tempestaurora/ @tempestaurora (Pacific Rim AU | 4K | Teen): “Care to explain why you’ve brought a child to a military base?” Bobby asked when they returned. The base was alight with celebration; the day had been saved, the world was safe for a little longer. “Uh.” Buck glanced back at Christopher, currently talking to Karen Wilson from the research division. “He was an unaccompanied minor?” “So we leave him with the social workers, with first responders,” Bobby said, a pointedly raised eyebrow in his direction. “His dad’s a cadet at the PPDC,” Buck replied. “And his grandmother probably died in the attack, so it just felt… I don’t know, morally right?”

i've been dying to catch you dizzy by diazbegins/ @evanbegins (Esablished Buddie, Fluff | 2K | Teen): Eddie and Buck go ice-skating. Oh, and Chris is there too!

🔥 The Aftermath of Liberation and Love Confessions by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Post-S5E9, Getting Together | 17K | Teen): Still, Buck says, “Yeah, Eddie. Why don’t you teach us. What would you say if you were professing your love?” You mean something besides, “In the event of my untimely death, I made you legal guardian of my child”? ~ In which Eddie comes out, sexuality is complicated but coffee is not, Buck makes an excessive salad and is also roasted, everyone has a love confession, and December is the most dramatic time of year.

let the choir bells sing by foxwatson/ @eddiediazes (Madney Wedding, Getting Together | 3K | Teen): All at once, Eddie has an idea. It’s definitely the stupidest idea he’s ever had in his entire life, but he has it all the same, and there’s no time to come up with a better one. He puts his hands on Buck’s elbows, tugs him in closer, and says, “Kiss me.”

When You Broke Her Heart, I'm Watching it Burn by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Post-S5E11, Buck/Taylor Break-Up | 4K | General): When Buck confesses he kissed someone, Taylor makes an assumption about who. Eddie deals with what all of it means for his own future while picking up the pieces for both Buck and Taylor.

🔥Plus or Minus by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (S5 | 10K | General): “Why are you cleaning out the kitchen? Why is my stuff in boxes?” Eddie slows, then stops. “Figured you’d want it back.” It’s quieter. Pained. When he says it. “I haven’t decided anything. So unless you’re kicking me out—” “Buck. Come on.” He’s not angry or snapping. It’s still quiet, and somehow that hurts even more. He’s resigned and defeated, and Buck is a scooped out, gutted, hollow shell. “I know how this ends the same way you do. You want to be loved, you want to be married. You’re going to leave. Might as well…” His voice cracks before he can finish and get it under control. “Shouldn’t drag it out.” ~ Taylor is offered a job across the country and asks Buck to go with her. Buck has to figure out if he wants to start over or if he has a reason to stay right where he is.

Color Him Father, Color Him Love by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Post-S6E12 | 3K | General): “Connor was worried he wouldn’t feel like it’s really his kid. But I put him back in Connor’s arms, and I could see the way his face changed. The way he lit up and teared up and might have cried because that is his son. And all I could think was that I know that feeling. I know what it feels like to hold a kid and care about them and want to protect them. But it’s so different when it feels like they’re yours. It’s so much more. Even if you didn’t— Even if it’s not biological and you’re not. You’re not really the father. Because I hold Chris— I hold him and I feel like he is part of me.” ~ Buck has a revelation about what he is to Chris. And to Eddie.

turns out freedom ain’t nothing but missing you by Daffi_990_ao3/ @daffi-990 (Post-S6, Getting Together | 4K | Not rated): To protect his heart, Eddie pulls away from Buck when he starts dating Natalia. When he decides to move to B-shift, Buck finally confronts him and certain feelings finally come to light.

with blood in my nose by hammersmiths/ @henswilsons (Canon Divergent, S4E14: Survivors | 9K | Teen): The spray of blood hits him, first. And then Buck drops like a fucking stone. or, Buck is the one who gets shot instead of Eddie.

🔥 3 Men 1 Baby by Tizniz/ @tizniz (Canon Divergent, Accidental Baby Acquisition | 21K | General): It’s a good thing the groceries have made it to the table, because the eggs would certainly have cracked from Eddie dropping the bags to the floor. Because Evan Buckley was standing there holding a baby. A baby. OR: Buck, Eddie, and Chim get a baby. Here's what happens.

you can see it with the lights out (you are in love) by wikiangela/ @wikiangela (Post-S6, Love Confessions | 5K | General): Turns out, Natalia does see Buck, though maybe not in the way he expected. In which Natalia realizes Buck's in love with Eddie and help him see it, too.

we could be corny by devirnis/ @devirnis (Established Buddie | 1,6K | General): Or, Chim and Maddie have Buck and Eddie over for their first official couples’ game night.

🔥 Facets of a Diamond by countrygirlsfun/ @acountrygirlsfun (Canon S1-S2 | 35K | Teen): Southern California is where Buck has spent the most time since leaving Pennsylvania. Of all the places he’s lived and worked over the last few years, this place is where he decided to stay. It’s why he picked LAFD: to put down some roots. It’s warm, has the ocean, and it’s the opposite coast of his parents. So if he’s going to be here for a while, he thinks he’ll need to make an effort to let people in.

a little of that human touch by devirnis/ @devirnis (Established Buddie, Secret relationship | 1,5K | General): Buck closes his book and places it on the coffee table, pushing himself up a little more as Eddie trudges over to him. “Couldn’t sleep either?” Buck asks quietly. He wanders over to the far end of the couch and Buck moves his feet out of the way so Eddie can sit down. “Woke up and you were gone,” Eddie murmurs, pulling Buck’s feet into his lap.

you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (Getting Together, Valentine's Day | 2K | Teen): The LAFD throws a Valentine's Day charity event, there's a kissing booth and Eddie is definitely not going insane with jealousy.

🔥 Winter Prayer by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Road Trip, Buck&Bobby&May | 18K | General): When a work conflict prevents Athena from accompanying Bobby to Minnesota for the ten year anniversary of his family dying, Buck and May offer to go instead. Over the course of the trip, they all learn more about each other, and Bobby faces his grief.

Fractals from the Lightning Bolt by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (One Shots Collection | 47/54 | 87K | Not Rated): A collection of oneshots, some originally posted on tumblr. Each chapter is individually rated.

47. But What if They Were Secret Dating (S4, Explicit)

You Can't Surprise Evan Buckley by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Established Buddie, Fluff | 5K | Mature): Ten months into their relationship, Eddie has not been able to execute a romantic surprise for Buck. But on Buck's birthday, things are about to change. (Part 2 of Birthday Surprises & Other Shenanigans)

WIP

because we'll all arrive in heaven alive by callmenewbie/ @puppyboybuckley (Post-S6, Disaster Fic | 1/9 | 7K | Explicit): During a search and rescue, Eddie disappears without a trace, leaving Buck to grapple with the sudden possibility of a life without him.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briar / @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon, S1 through S6 | 111/? | 315K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

🔥 A Minor Delay by rainbow_nerds/ @rainbow-nerdss (Post-S6/S7 Spec | 6/11 | 21K | Mature): Almost a year after the bridge collapse, a lot has changed. The team are scattered—Bobby and Athena on their Honeymoon, Hen on adoptive parent's leave, and Buck and Eddie... They may still work together, still have movie nights with Chris whenever they can, but things have changed. With Maddie and Chimney's wedding around the corner, Buck tries to make it perfect. And maybe, along the way, he might figure out why everything still feels... wrong.

if i need to rearrange my particles — i will for you. by dylaesthetics (Post-S6, Social Media fic | 1/16 | 4K | Teen): OR Buck joins a support app for first responders and matches with a firefighter who has PTSD and a kid who likes giraffes, apparently.

#buddie #buddie fanfiction #buddie fic rec #buddie fanfic #buddie fic #epic buddie fic rec #911 #911 fanfic #911 fanfiction #911 fic

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meetmypointlessaddiction · 4 months

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Rescuing Ellie: Part One

This is the first chapter of a new series I'm hoping to start in which Ellie is fostered and then eventually adopted by the Miller family. I can't promise when updates will be but I'm hoping it won't be too long until the next one is posted, enjoy!

Warnings: mentions of trauma, Joel and Sarah being too cute, Ellie possibly being neurodivergent is touched on slightly, childhood trauma, I think that's everything, Sarah calls reader 'mom'

Words: 1,9k

Prompt: You, Joel and Sarah and made aware of Ellie’s existence as your little family prepares to add one more

Joel was pacing around the living room, Sarah sitting on the couch with a book in hand sharing a smirk with you. “Dad! Sit down. If they walk in and see you pacing like a mad man they’re gonna turn the opposite way. Relax.” Sarah told him sternly and he nodded, making you laugh. Sarah had always been able to make him do as he was told.

“Is the bathroom clean? Did we vacuum the kitchen?”

“Joel, baby. I love you but please shut the hell up. Everything is clean, everything is tidy but the house still looks homely and welcoming, ok? The social worker would be stupid to think that our home wasn’t good enough to bring another child into.” You said to him and he nodded, taking a seat next to Sarah and letting his arm extend around the back of the couch as she leant on his shoulder.

“What book are you reading kiddo?” He asked and she smiled.

“To Kill a Mockingbird. Miss Garcia recommended it so mom took me to get it from the library on Friday.” She explained and Joel shot you a small smile.

Sarah wasn’t your biological child but that never stopped the three of you from acting like a true family. You had met Joel in a bar when Sarah was just 4 and, after a few dates, you finally got to meet his little girl and the pair of you were on your honeymoon a year later. Giving birth had never been something you had wanted to do, stories from friends and family completely putting you off the idea, but Sarah was desperate for a sibling and you knew, deep down, that Joel would love to have another kid in the house.

A knock on the door had Joel shooting to his feet, almost falling into the table, as he walked to the door to let the woman. “Mr and Mrs Miller, it’s good to see you again. And I take it this is the Sarah I got to know so much about?” She asked with a cheeky smile and Sarah laughed.

“Yeah my dad can get carried away with his bragging.” She said and Joel blushed, you squeezing his hand before he stepped aside to let the woman in.

“Well, I’m sure you're aware of why I’m here. I’m Courtney, the social worker who’s been asked to come and have a look around, make sure everything is up to scratch and walk you through the next few steps.” She clarified and the three of you nodded, Joel gesturing for her to take a seat and then taking his seat back next to Sarah who was laying her book on the coffee table.

“To Kill a Mockingbird? You like reading?” Courtney asked Sarah who nodded quickly.

“I was always read bedtime stories from dad or my uncle Tommy when he lived with us and then mom would help me read the harder books because those too are hopeless when it comes to words with more than three syllables.” She teased and Courtney laughed while Joel looked at Sarah with faux offence while you snorted into your hand.

“Well I can already tell that the three of you have a lovely dynamic going on. We’ve already discussed that it is your intention to foster a child and then adopt once the child is settled, correct?” She asked and Joel nodded.

“We don’t think it’s fair for a kid to get used to living with us and then we just change our routine once another kid comes along, you know?” You said and she nodded.

“Well, would you be able to show me around?” She asked and you nodded, Sarah opting to stay seated while you and Joel led her around your home.

“That room at the back is mine and Joel’s, Sarah’s is on the left and then the room on the right is obviously the spare room. We’ve left it pretty plain so that we can decorate it to their tastes but the room design is their choice.” You explained and she nodded.

“And you said you have two bathrooms?” She asked and Joel nodded.

“There’s the ensuite in the master bedroom and then the bathroom on your left is the bathroom that Sarah uses.” Joel told her and she nodded with a bright smile.

“It seems you’re all quite prepared for a new arrival. I believe there is someone in our system who would benefit greatly from being included in your family. If you’d like, I can set up a meeting for the pair of you to meet her and then another a few days later where you can bring Sarah along so the girls can get to know each other a little bit?” Courtney suggested and you and Joel both nodded quickly.

“That’d be great.”

“If we go and take a seat, I can go over some of her details and we’ll see what you think.”

Sitting back on the couch, Courtney pulled out a folder and Sarah peeked over the book. “Someone that eager to come live with us?” She asked and Joel rolled his eyes, nudging her slightly.

“Not when they find out you’re here.” He teased and she scoffed.

“Your old man grunts when you get up off the couch would be enough to scare anyone away. Surprised mom didn’t escape when she could.” She threw back at him and you looked to both of them.

“That’s enough with the pair of you, let’s listen to what Courtney can tell us about the girl ok?” You said and they both nodded, Joel smiling gently at you.

“So, her name’s Ellie, she’s 10 and she’s pretty mature for her age. Became independent at a young age and is generally intelligent if that’s something that interests you. She does have slight trauma which can cause occasional nightmares and she can be generally nervous around new people but is fiercely protective once she gets to know someone.” Courtney said and Joel sat up straighter.

“Sarah, you wanna go to your room for a little honey? We’ll call you back in once we go over some of the finer details?” He asked her and she nodded, collecting her book from the table and heading to her room. You looked at him confused and he cleared his throat.

“When you say trauma, are we allowed to know what that trauma is?” He asked and you looked at him shocked. Was this going to be a dealbreaker for him? “Woah no not because of anything bad. I just meant would there be anything that we could do to make the transition a little easier. Like is it better to have her meet us one at a time or maybe Sarah first or-.” You breathed a sigh of relief as he explained himself. “Kids have trauma, it doesn’t put me off fostering her just because she’s had a shitty past. I just don’t want her to feel like she has to feel a certain way once she joins us, you know?” He said more to you than to Courtney and you nodded.

“It’s probably better that she meets the pir of you first. Ellie’s mother died during childbirth and no one knew who her father was which meant that she was placed straight into foster care. She’s had some really bad experiences with foster homes which is why we are extremely careful of who we place her with. She struggles with men quite a lot which is why we always ensure that there are more women than men in whichever home she goes to. The best thing you can do for her is to just be yourselves. She has an extremely good judge of character so she’ll see straight through whatever facade you try to put up.” Courtney encouraged and you and Joel nodded, you watching as your husband took in all the information he could.

“The only other guy that’s ever really here is my brother but most of the time his wife and son are with him. Would that be ok once she gets settled?” He asked and Courtney nodded.

“As much normalcy as possible will help her settle. She doesn’t like to be a burden so feeling like your routine is being changed for her will make her feel awkward. We’ve had many fosters change their mind with Ellie due to some of her personality traits.” Courtney revealed and you frowned.

“Personality traits? What do you mean?” You asked and she frowned slightly.

“Many of the fosters believe that Ellie may be neurodivergent which could lead to some of her other traits such as her short temper and her objections to certain food textures or smells. She also struggles to divert from certain routines and some families found that hard to adjust to and it was making Ellie restless. It should also be noted that Ellie isn’t the ‘typical girl’ that a lot of families are searching for. She has very strong tastes in the clothes she wears and how she is viewed and will refuse to cooperate if it goes against what she wants.”

“We don’t expect her to stick to any kind of mould. As long as she’s her own person we don’t care.” Joel said and you nodded. “Would she be interested in any kind of sports? Sarah plays soccer so maybe signing her up for that would be a good idea?” He asked and Courtney shook her head with a smile.

“Ellie is quite small for her age so she gets pushed around a lot whenever it comes down to sports or physical activity. Her favourite hobbies are music and drawing but I’m sure she’ll tell you all about that once you get to meet her. Once you find a topic she enjoys, the girl can talk for hours.” She said and Joel’s eyes lit up, your husband’s love for music shining through and Courtney seemed to notice.

“Well, I can see you’re clearly excited to meet her so I’ll let you guys talk it over and once I’ve spoken to Ellie I’ll email with a date for you to come down to the home and meet her if that’s everything you had to ask.” You both shook your heads and Joel called for Sarah who bid goodbye to Courtney and then the three of you flopped onto the couch, Joel’s head dropping into Sarah’s lap as she shot him a stink eye for interrupting her reading.

“Well that seemed to be a success. I can’t wait to meet her.” Joel said and you chuckled, Sarah just resting her book on his face and continuing to read.

“I say we order pizza to celebrate.” You suggested and Sarah cheered while Joel grumbled.

“I hope it’s your money that’s paying for it.” He said and you and Sarah both burst into laughter.

“Of course not. Don’t you wanna provide for your girls my manly husband. Inn’t that what all you Texas men are built for?” You teased and he scoffed, laughing as you kissed his cheek.

“Make sure to order a ham and pineapple for the monster bookworm.” He told you and you nodded.

“If anybody’s order was going to be forgotten it’d be yours dad. Just accept that mom loves me more.” Sarah said, prodding his cheek and you smiled.

“What is it you want Joel?” You asked sweetly and grunted.

“All I ever want is cheese and it’s always forgotten.”

“Shut up you giant man baby.” You pushed his face into the couch cushion and he pouted.

“Thought I was your manly husband?” He asked with a slight smirk showing on his face until Sarah hit him with her book.

“Stop flirting with my mom. You’re ruining my appetite.”

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undreaming-fanfiction · 1 year

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No Such Thing As Stupid Question

This one is for you, Anna! @unclewaynemunson! Congratulations on your academic progress, I'm so proud of you!

Also on Ao3 for your convenience :)

As someone who showed as little interest in romance as possible, Wayne Munson didn't really expect to be come a parental figure. Maybe he'd get a dog when he retired, some older mutt from a shelter, and they'd sit in front of the trailer in quiet company, perhaps a bark here and there as Wayne sipped his beer. Wayne could imagine that. But a kid, never.

But of course, life had a peculiar sense of humor and his younger brother hit a new low - sadly admirable, given that he was already at the very bottom, but someone brought a shovel with him. Grand theft auto, petty crimes all over, domestic disputes (to put it mildly)...Wayne breathed a sigh of relief when he found out he got locked up before he escalated even further. He didn't want to believe Danny had it in him to seriously hurt someone, but given the right or wrong circumstances, he couldn't guarantee there wouldn't be a casualty like a random witness, someone trying to protect their property...yeah, Danny was definitely better off where he ended up.

As for his son Eddie...Wayne couldn't guarantee the same, even though he vowed to try his damn hardest.

Eddie was a scrawny kid with an ugly buzz cut and dark eyes so large he seemed afraid of anything and everything. When Wayne met with the social worker and they talked over coffee, Wayne couldn't help but notice how Eddie grasped his milkshake, as if someone would take it from him the very next second. His twitchy fingers wrapped around the glass in a vice-like grip and even though Wayne was convinced he was listening to every word said, he kept stubbornly staring into the drink, refusing to meet anyone's eye. And even though the kid was barely in middle school, Wayne found the rigid focus all too familiar, painfully so. It was the first time he found himself truly and purely hating Danny, feeling a burning coal in his chest at what his so-called upbringing did to this boy.

In the end, Eddie was sent to live with him, only a bag with clothes too big, a few trinkets and a single book, worn from constant reading. The Hobbit.

The first day, the now joint Munson household was quiet. Eddie was chewing on an improvised pasta Wayne had made - on his own, thank you for asking, with all three ingredients - and looking anywhere but at his uncle. And Wayne was a quiet man himself so sure, they could stay in silence until Eddie graduated and moved somewhere else, but there was a part of Wayne that didn't want this for Eddie. He wanted at least one Munson to turn out alright.

"Hope it's edible. I...don't cook much," he tried, swallowing a lump of poorly mixed spices.

Eddie's eyes were fixed to his plate. He nodded, the movement almost indiscernible, and then returned to his pasta.

So Wayne tried again. "I saw that book you have," he mentioned and boy, was that a wrong move. Eddie almost curled into himself, his eyes darting to Wayne for the first time - but not with curiosity. With defiance and fear.

He didn't say anything, only stared at Wayne. As if he was daring him to say something, do something.

So Wayne did. "It looked interesting. The Hobbit? I've never heard of it. Is it any good?"

The slight relaxation in Eddie's shoulders seemed promising. "It's my favorite," he said, his eyes returning to the pasta, stabbing a few offending pieces with his fork. "It has an adventure in it. An unexpected one."

Wayne huffed a quiet laugh under his breath. "Ah. So somethin' like this?"

Eddie looked at him again with those large dark eyes. "...yeah."

And then it was quiet again, but this was less forced, less tense. Wayne thought that maybe this was how Eddie would be normally, a withdrawn soul just like himself, but just as he chewed on the last mouthful of less than ideally cooked pasta, Eddie broke the silence.

"Why'd you take me in?" Eddie blurted out and seemed to regret it immediately, biting in to his own lip. "It's...it's not like you knew me before and you could have refused, I...I would understand that. I think. But you agreed to let me stay and I'm grateful and all, but...I just don't get it. Why?" Pausing for a moment, he added "sorry if that's a stupid question. I just want to understand."

It might have taken Wayne a second longer than ideal to answer, but he didn't want to spit ketchup on the poor boy who already seemed flustered enough. He held his finger up and quickly washed down the food with a gulp of soda. "First rule of this house, son," he said and smiled at Eddie, actually smiled, although his facial muscles protested. "Ain't no such thing as stupid questions. Anything you want to ask, just ask. And if I know the answer, I will give it. Understood?"

Eddie was maintaining eye contact now and he nodded eagerly. Almost too eagerly. It made Wayne reconsider in that very second, because this wasn't a withdrawn soul like he'd suspected - this was a boy who wanted to open up to someone so, so badly. "Yes," he muttered and Wayne couldn't help himself, he reached out, slowly, and ruffled whatever hair remained on Eddie's head. And Eddie didn't move away, just watched his hand like a hawk and, when he ensured he wasn't in any danger, even leaned into it, giving Wayne a small smile.

Returning to his side of the table, Wayne leaned in. "Why'd I take you in? I could give you a bunch of reasons, none would fully cover it. Obligation, sure. You're family, that's another thing. But most of all, I just..." He trailed off, finding the correct words, the truthful words. Throughout all of it, Eddie was watching him, waiting. "I guess I just want to give you something better, Eddie. Danny and I, we didn't have the best family, not sure how much he told you. And there ain't much we can do to fix ourselves, but I look at you and I think...maybe I can make a difference right here. Because you seem like a bright kid to me and I just...I just want to do right by you. Even if I'm the only one."

Eddie swallowed thickly, fidgeting. "And...and if I turn out like him?" he mumbled, struggling to keep the eye contact. "What if you...you do that, but I still fail?"

Damn, Wayne Munson did not cry, but the fear, the insecurity in Eddie's voice tugged at something in his chest. He reached over again and grasped Eddie's bony shoulder. "Then you'll still have home here for as long as you want. All I want from you is to give it your best shot. That work for you?"

The boy smiled at him and nodded, wiping at his eyes. "Yeah."

"Good." They were grinning at each other over dirty plates, the smell of ketchup and cheap soda between them. "And I meant what I said. Anythin' you want to ask, go for it. No question is a stupid question."

Eddie smirked at him and Wayne might have detected a glint of mischief in his eyes. He thought he'd bend over backwards to keep it there, to give this frightened kid a bit of childhood back. "Anything, huh?" he asked.

"Yup. But count on me askin' a lot of stuff too. Like," he paused, rubbing his chin in deep thought.

It was ridiculous. But Wayne remembered what the doctors told him when he returned from Vietnam - sometimes to get moving, you need something unexpected, something to confuse the anxiety right out of your brain. So he dug deep and hard into his imaginative side and pointed at Eddie. "What is the single superior animal noise? No long thinking, go."

Eddie blinked at him, once, twice, and then he burst out laughing. He kicked his knee into the table and the dishes rattled around, but he couldn't stop himself. He was wheezing, grasping the side of the table and trying to breathe. And if that didn't make Wayne's heart swell. "You...you looked so serious!" gasped Eddie between snorts and giggles.

"It's a serious question. Now, Eddie, what's your answer?" Wayne tried to keep his face under control, but Eddie's grin was contagious.

The boy cleared his throat and leaned forwards, brow furrowing in concentration. "So many fine choices," he said in a contemplative voice that made Wayne nearly choke on his soda because it sounded like a poor imitation of a British TV celebrity. "I have to go with ribbit. Unique and well-balanced." Glancing at Wayne, he shot back. "The soup to beat all the soups!"

Wayne smirked and crossed his arms. "That's an easy one. Bean soup. And before you ask - not from a can."

"Knew it."

It gradually becomes their thing.

Whenever Eddie is lost in thought, when he comes back from school with a new bruise, Wayne shoots a ridiculous question at him, what is the best race in the Middle Earth for a basketball tournament, what is the ideal number of dried peas to have in your kitchen, and Eddie's smile is back, as radiant as ever.

When Wayne returns from the plant, grumbling about the stupid idiots from the previous shift making his job harder, he finds Eddie bouncing on his feet, waiting for him to come home to ask what is the ideal sole color for running shoes. "Not the shoe color, the sole, Wayne, what is the sole color that makes you just want to run? No thinking, go!"

Even years after Eddie's hair has grown into the thick wavy locks that Wayne isn't envious of, nope, not at all, they still randomly yell questions at each other across the trailer. Eddie hollers "WHAT'S THE FUNNIEST FRUIT IN THE WHOLE WORLD WAYNE?!" and Wayne shouts back "IT'S PEACH BECAUSE IT'S STUPIDLY HAIRY JUST LIKE A CERTAIN NEPHEW OF MINE AND STOP YELLING, BOY!". Wayne asks between quiet puffs of smoke outside "if you had to wear a hat for the rest of your life, what hat would that be?" and Eddie blows out a circle and snickers "a top hat." There's a joke there and Wayne smiles to himself, wondering if he should acknowledge it.

And eventually, when his boy is returned to him after the hell that was March of 1986, when Eddie slowly heals and the Harrington boy doesn't leave his side, Wayne has the perfect question but he bides his time, watching the two fools dance around each other like the foolish fools they are (has he mentioned they are fools? Because they absolutely are). He's hoping he won't need to ask the question, maybe it will be enough to just wait, but nope, he's had enough. Life is too short for people like him and Eddie. So he grabs a couple of beers, drags Eddie to the porch of their government-funded house and after a couple of cans, starts their favorite pasttime.

"What's the best pink thing to ever exist?"

"Plastic flamingos," responds Eddie and sips his beer. "The one piece of clothing humanity should have never invented?"

"Ties, who's supposed to learn to tie that thing...the best cat name?"

"Household or wild?"

"Wild."

"Fluffles. Imagine being eaten by that in the woods. You'd never live it down, even after dying. The most humiliating job ever?"

"TV weather guy. Must suck to be wrong all the time." He doesn't even pause, just continues in the disinterested, flat tone they always use for their late night rounds of no-stupid-question. "The best place to take Steve for a date?"

"Somewhere calm, I think a picnic, he doesn't do well with a lot of loud noises or people," replies Eddie immediately. He sips his beer and freezes, mid-gulp, when his mind finally catches up with his mouth.

Wayne just pats his shoulder reassuringly. "Sounds like a great plan to me." When Eddie doesn't answer or move, he adds "swallow, boy."

Eddie pours the rest of his beer into his mouth and chuckles at Wayne, breathless. "That sounds more like a second date idea. Uh, shit. Sorry. I mean..."

"I'll pretend I stopped listening at the picnic," says Wayne, but the smile tugging at his lips betrays his sternness. "Just stay safe, Eddie. But if I have to keep watchin' you and that pretty boy dance around each other for a week longer, I swear I'll have you two sit down and talk it out, kindergarten style. So you'd better ask him out before I give him the talk."

With the corner of his eye, he sees Eddie nodding, grasping the can for support. "Will do. Just...are you..." He bites his lip, turns to Wayne. "Does this change anything?"

"I sure hope it does!" Wayne flicks the ash off his cigarette. "For one, I'd expect your room to be much cleaner when you get a boyfriend."

They're both chuckling now, clinking their empty beer cans together. "Smart ass," says Eddie but it has no bite, no venom. "Thank you, dad," he says quietly, and Wayne can't help himself, he throws his arm over Eddie's shoulders and pulls him into a very uncomfortable sideways hug. It's the best hug in his life.

When Eddie throws open the door the next Friday and hollers "WHAT IS THE BEST CHAPSTICK FLAVOR FOR KISSING?" and Wayne answers, he gets corrected for the first time. "Wrong," says Eddie and wipes at his mouth, still grinning wildly. "It's cherry."

And Wayne gets proven right once more when, not even a year later, after rebuilding of Hawkins, practically adopting Steve into their small weird family, Eddie proves to him that he's not just scarily observant, but he learns the worst tricks in the book.

Because sure, Wayne might have buried his own needs and desires so deep they're practically at the Earth's core, but then there was a sympathetic man close to his age, maybe a bit younger, who approached Wayne and told him he's so happy for him that Eddie is back, that he taught Eddie in middle school and he never believed a single word about his involvement because that boy is incapable of harming anyone, that's what he said. And he invited Wayne for a beer because some people were still treating the name Munson as the plague itself and Wayne might be finding himself looking at Eddie and Steve, wishing that he was younger, he had more courage...

So he's still mostly lost in those thoughts when Eddie starts pestering him during one of Steve's shifts, meaning they're home alone and bored. It's late July, they're both sitting on the porch, sipping beer again, and Wayne has already answered questions about the mug to end all mugs, whether soccer would be more fun to watch with human-sized insects and who is the single person from all Hawkins to be sent to Mars to never return. And then Eddie asks "what's the best movie to take Scott Clarke for the first date?" and Wayne's brain short circuits.

When he comes to, Eddie is smirking at him sympathetically, offering him a new can of beer because Wayne dropped the old one. "Come on, did you think I wouldn't notice?" he asks and nudges his shoulder. "I can sense the "desperately in love" Munson eyes from a mile away. I've got them patented, you know. So. Your answer?"

Wayne coughs and stammers out that it would have to be something smart because Scott is smart. And that he isn't smart enough to figure out what he'd like, so it's not really a good question...

But Eddie just shakes his head and reaches into his pocket, producing two tickets to the Hawkins movie theatre. "Wrong, Wayne. Or not completely. Mr. Clarke - Scott, shit, that's difficult to get used to, he loves smart things, but he's also a massive nerd, as our lady Applejack loves to call him and everyone within a certain interest group. And I happen to know there's something called RoboCop playing tomorrow. I also happen to have two tickets right here, to know that Scott is free and that he'll be waiting for you 15 minutes before the movie starts."

Wayne gapes at him, mouth hanging open and speechless for the first time in his life. His eyes are traveling between the tickets and Eddie's smile while he's desperately trying to stomp out the flames of hope in his heart. "But...but what if he doesn't see me like that?" he asks and he hates how small and insecure he sounds, but Eddie needs to understand that things are different for people like him, for his age, his...whole person.

His nephew - no, son - throws his head back and laughs into the setting sun. "Look at that," he grins and shoves the two tickets into Wayne's hand. "That has to be the first stupid question I've ever heard from you. Let's see..." he taps on his chin, pretending to think. "Ask me again tomorrow after the movie, okay? If you still need to ask."

The next evening, Eddie leans next to the door when Wayne returns from the movie. "So..." he drawls, raising his eyebrows. "Do you still need me to answer?"

And Wayne huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. "Nah, no more stupid questions in this household."

#steddie fanfiction #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #academic fairy godmother Aneta #clarkson #wayne munson #scott clarke #steddie drabble #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

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evandarya · 2 years

Text

How (not) to Get Adopted by Bruce Wayne

An Incomplete Guide

{read on AO3}

Bruce looked up from the paperwork on his desk to his ringing cell phone. His personal cell phone. Precious few people had that number. He checked the caller ID before answering.

"Dr. Thompkins, this is a surprise, is there a problem?" He didn't think so. The last donation to her clinic had cleared days ago, maybe something was wrong with one of his kids.

"Bruce, nothing is wrong, or… well." She paused. He never knew Leslie to be anything other than straightforward, so this was unusual. "You know most of the fosters and group homes in the city use my clinic for the kids, right?"

"Yes." He should, it was because of the Thomas Wayne foundation that they were able to afford medical care for the foster kids in the city.

"Well, I'm worried about one of the kids. He's been in my clinic twice since the start of the month. Apparently, he's been getting into fights."

It was only two weeks into the month, which was concerning, but… "I'm not seeing where I come in." He said, flipping through a financial report.

"He's in a group home, and they have a 'three strike' policy. If he gets into another fight, he's going to be sent to a detention facility."

"Hmm. Sounds like he needs to stop getting into fights."

"That's what I told him the first time, but there he was the next week, nose broken again. He's a smart kid, Bruce, he's in Gotham Academy on an academic scholarship. He doesn't deserve to go to juvy, and you are still an active foster parent."

"Leslie, I'm not looking to take in another child right now. I have my hands full with Damian, and Tim is staying here full time again."

"That's why you're the best choice. He needs a placement, someone with a firm hand, and you have experience raising headstrong children."

"I don't know."

"Could you at least meet him before you decide?"

"Alright." He said with a sigh "I'll meet him."

"Thanks, Bruce, I'll have his social worker contact you."

***

"I don't understand why I had to miss school for this," Danny said, slumping down in the plastic chair. They were supposed to be taking a test in Physics today, and now he was going to have to make it up to meet with a potential foster.

"Sit up straight, Danny. Your potential foster father is a busy man, so we had to work with his schedule." Danny rolled his eyes. A busy foster, great. That usually meant their foster kids took care of the house while they were out 'working'.

"I don't need a foster, Shannon." He'd rather go to juvy than another foster placement.

"Just meet him, please, and keep an open mind." Shannon checked her watch. He wasn't sure if the man was running late, or if she was just nervous. Probably nervous, though, if the incessant clicking of her pen was any indication.

At exactly half past noon the door to the day room opened and a tall, well-built man walked in, being led by a worker. "Shannon, Mr. Wayne is here." Mr. Wayne gave the worker a brilliant smile and thanked her for showing him in before turning that smile onto Shannon. Danny slumped further into the chair, glaring at Mr. Wayne.

He knew who the man was. Of course, he did, how could he not? Everything he had came from the man. The group home he was living in was funded by a Wayne charity, his scholarship, his doctor visits, and even his school lunches were paid for by the Wayne foundation. The man had infinitely deep pockets, and he gave to so many charities, and he was huge. Not just tall, standing a head and a half taller than Shannon and her impractical heels but built like he spends half his time in a gym. The man was bigger than a billionaire had any reason to be.

"You must be Danny." He said, turning that smile onto the teen, ignoring his surly look, and holding out his hand. Danny took it, and couldn't help but notice the calluses on the man's knuckles and palms. Similar to his own, like a fighter. "I'm Bruce Wayne."

"I know who you are." He said, dropping the man's hand and turning back to Shannon. "Can I go back to my room?"

"Danny! You're being rude." Shannon said, dropping her pen in shock. Danny caught it before it hit the ground and handed it back to her.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne, thank you for coming all the way down here to meet me. Sorry, you wasted a trip, though. I'm not looking for a foster at this time." He said, giving his own blinding fake smile.

"That's not really your decision, is it?" Mr. Wayne asked, catching Danny off guard.

"What?" Danny asked, sitting up straight for the first time.

"You're fifteen, sixteen maybe? You don't need to give permission to be moved to a new home."

"You can't do that. He can't do that, Shannon."

"He's right, Danny. You're still underaged, so you have to go where the state tells you to go. If Mr. Wayne agrees to foster you, you'll have to go with him."

Danny glanced incredulously between the two adults, everything in him wanting to whine about how unfair that was, but that wouldn’t get him anything. Instead, he settled for a scowl.

"How about a trial period? We'll do a thirty-day placement, and if you would rather be here after, I'll drop you off myself. Does that sound fair?" Mr. Wayne said as if he were some diplomat trying to find a compromise.

Anger flared in Danny's chest. "Whether or not it sounds fair is irrelevant, isn't it? You've already made it clear where you stand on my permission."

Pink colored Mr. Wayne's cheeks, but his face stayed irritatingly passive. "Why don't you go pack, then."

"You'll take him? That's wonderful, I'll get the paperwork started." Danny held Mr. Wayne's eyes for a few more seconds before the man broke eye contact to speak to Shannon. Only then did Danny stand up, being sure to make as much noise as possible just to be annoying. Thirty days? Does he think he's going to last for thirty days? His longest placement was two weeks. Mr. Wayne would be no different.

The first thing he did when he got to his room, or the room where he stayed with three other boys, was take his knives out of the wall. One good thing about being able to turn intangible is how easy it is to hide things. No one thinks to check inside the walls. He stuck one in his front pocket, one in his back pocket, and one in the hidden pocket he had sewn into the inside of his hoodie. Then he set about packing his things. He didn't have that much stuff, in fact, all of his belongings fit into his backpack along with his school books. The last thing he did was fish his sketchbook out from where he had stashed it under the floorboards under his bed.

Once everything he owned was safely tucked away in the bag on his back he headed back down to the day room. Mr. Wayne was signing paperwork at the table when he stomped back in. He glanced up and his eyes landed on the backpack hanging off his shoulder.

"Do you have everything?" He asked. Danny shrugged, he had everything important. "Alright, I’ll finish this paperwork, then we can get going."

Danny nodded and sat back down in his chair across from Mr. Wayne. The only sound was the steady ticking of the clock on the wall and Mr. Wayne's pen scratching his signature every now and again as he read through the paperwork. Once he had signed everything he needed to sign and handed the paperwork back to Shannon they headed out to the parking lot.

"I'm parked this way." He said, gesturing toward a black Tesla in the parking lot. "Would you like to put your bag in the trunk?"

"I'll keep it with me if it's all the same to you." You only have to make the mistake of getting separated from your belongings once.

"Alright, if that's what you want." Danny could feel his anger rising again. Since when did anyone care what he wanted? Mr. Wayne opened the passenger side door for him, and Danny waited until he stepped away to get in, shutting the door behind him. Mr. Wayne climbed into the driver's side and Danny was struck again by just how big the man was. Was he a bodybuilder, or something? Seriously.

Mr. Wayne waited until they were out on the road before speaking again. "Have you eaten lunch yet, are you hungry?" He asked, drumming on the steering wheel as he waited for a light to change.

"No."

"No, you haven't eaten lunch, or no, you aren't hungry?"

"No to both. I haven't eaten lunch, and I'm not hungry."

"Did you have a big breakfast?"

"I skipped breakfast."

"So you haven't eaten anything all day." Danny could hear the displeasure in the man's voice, but he just shrugged in indifference. Mr. Wayne reached over and Danny tracked his hand warily, but the man only hit a few buttons on his car's display, calling a number labeled "Alfred." The sound of a call ringing out filled the cab before a man with a British accent picked up.

"Pennyworth speaking, how may I help you." Danny wrinkled his nose at the man's formality.

"Alfred, I'm bringing home a guest. Could you fix something substantial for lunch? And prepare a room in the family wing, please."

"Of course, Master Bruce. Are there any requests or restrictions I should be aware of?"

"Danny?" Mr. Wayne asked, obviously waiting for him to answer the question.

"No."

Mr. Wayne's eyebrows furrowed just a bit before smoothing back out. "Danny has a peanut allergy." Danny scowled out the window as Mr. Wayne finished his conversation. Silence fell as they made their way out of the city.

“How’d you know about my allergy?” Danny asked after a while.

“Shannon told me.” Mr. Wayne said.

“So why’d you ask if you already knew the answer?”

“Why did you lie?”

Danny scowled at that and turned back to the window without answering. Mr. Wayne sighed.

"I wanted to give you an opportunity to speak for yourself." He said after a few minutes of silent driving. “And to see what you said.”

"So it was a test?" He asked. Mr. Wayne nodded slightly, not taking his eyes off the road. "Guess I failed, then."

"No, it's not a pass/fail. I just want to know what happened in your past that made you feel the need to lie about something as serious as an allergy."

Danny didn't say anything to that, the man was starting to sound like Jazz. Thankfully he didn't say anything else for the rest of the ride. It wasn't until they were parked in the garage of the (frankly ridiculously sized mansion) that Mr. Wayne said anything.

"I'm going to need you to give me your knives."

Danny blinked. "I don't know what you're talking about." He pulled on the door handle, but it wouldn't budge. Locked. Of course, it was, and stupid expensive cars apparently don’t have lock buttons on the passenger side. He swallowed down his apprehension and turned toward Mr. Wayne.

"I know you have at least three on your person. You will have no need for weapons in my home, so I need you to give them to me."

He's heard that before, but what choice did he have at this point? He was stuck in the car with a man who was twice his size and built like an MMA fighter. Unless he wanted to use his powers there was only one way out. Danny sighed and handed over the knives in his pants pockets.

"And the one in your jacket." He scowled but handed it over too. "And any you may have in your backpack." There was only one in his backpack, and it had saved his life more than once. He really didn't want to give it up.

"I don't have any in my backpack."

"Don't lie to me about this, I don't want to go through your things, but I will if I have to," Danny grumbled, but dug into his bag for the Swiss Army Knife and handed it over to Mr. Wayne. "Is that all?"

"Yes, sir."

"You don't have to call me sir, you can call me Bruce."

“Is that an order?” Danny really didn’t want to get too familiar with a man who was a practical stranger.

“No, of course not."

“Then I’ll call you sir, Mr. Wayne.”

Mr. Wayne sighed but finally unlocked the car door. Danny pushed the door open a little faster than was strictly necessary, stumbling a little in his haste to get out of the enclosed space. Mr. Wayne gave him a funny look but didn't mention it, instead, he led him across the garage, past more fancy cars than a car show, and up into the house. He was led down a short corridor and into a kitchen, where a plate of chicken salad sandwiches was set on the counter.

"Alfred, we're home," Bruce called when he didn't immediately see the man in the kitchen.

"Welcome home, Master Bruce, Master Daniel." The man said, stepping out of what must be a pantry. "I'm afraid we only have plain crisps, I hope that's alright." He said, setting the bag on the counter. It took Danny a second longer than he would have liked to realize that Alfred was asking him.

"Yes, sir. Plain chips are fine."

"You don't have to call me sir." He said, giving Danny a warm smile, which Danny didn't return.

"Alfred, I'll take lunch in my study, if you don't mind." Mr. Wayne said, before turning to Danny. "Alfred will help get you settled in after lunch."

"Right."

Mr. Wayne hesitated, like he wanted to say something, instead he parroted Danny's "right." And headed out of the kitchen.

Once he was gone Danny felt some tension leave his shoulders.

"Are you quite alright, Master Daniel?"

"Danny." He said quietly.

"I'm sorry?"

"It's just Danny, not Daniel."

"I apologize, Master Danny, thank you for telling me. Would you like to have lunch here in the kitchen, or the dining room?"

"Here is fine, sir," Danny said, popping up onto a barstool.

"Just Alfred will do, thank you." The man said, setting a plate with two chicken salad sandwiches, some fruit salad, and a good amount of chips in front of him. "Feel free to tuck in, I'm just going to bring this up to Master Bruce." He said, loading down a tray with an identical meal.

Danny didn't need to be told twice, taking a bite of his sandwich. It was the best sandwich he'd had in a long time, years maybe. Bruce Wayne may be an ass, but if Alfred cooks like this all the time, this placement may not be the worst he'd ever had.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #batman #dc comics #crossover #tim drake #fanfic #damian wayne

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fostercare-expat · 1 month

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Talked to the social worker today. Apparently the plan is that if everything proceeds okay, the 2 girls will go home in 2 weeks. The thinking is that the girls say they want to go home and mom has admitted that what happened was wrong and will take parenting classes. I said “And boyfriend won’t be living there anymore when they go home, right?” The answer was “Oh, Mom says she still wants him in her life because she has anxiety and he calms her down, so he’s going to remain living there.” I pointed out the increasing pattern of violence: smashed phone of 11 year old - pushing of mom - hitting 3 times on the back of 8 year old - shoving mom so she fell down and busted her lip open and she called police - now back of the neck choking / shaking of 10 year old. How is this man allowed to live there with the kids returning home? The social worker responded “It’s not my place to tell her to break up with him.” The words that came out of my mouth were “Yes, it certainly is your place. You need to tell her to break up with him. Because otherwise we are just sending these kids back to wait for a worse injury.” I’ve seen it with Fearless already. I’ve spent years making up for the mess his mom made by letting her abuser come back into their lives. And in this current case, there is such an easy solution because Mom lives in a welfare apartment because she is a single mom, and boyfriend is not legally allowed to live there. I pointed that out to the social worker and she said that is technically correct but it is not something her department can enforce. I asked if Mom will be forced to attend a Domestic Violence program and she said maybe, still being considered.

Apparently both boys said they don’t want to go home, so they will stay in care longer. No shock, both of them were victims of his anger. So I guess we just throw the two girls back into the wolf den and see how it goes!

Oh, and 10 year old is still trapped in the hospital just waiting on the paperwork to get him to the other foster family house. He isn’t allowed to come here first. And Friday is the earliest. So frustrating.

Well, let’s end with some positives. Social Worker is processing the paperwork. It’s slow but it’s happening.

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invisibleraven · 5 months

Note

foster family au YOU KNOW I HAVE TO

When Alex and Willie got serious, they had the big talk about marriage and kids, because they wanted to make sure they were on the same page about both. Willie was pretty eh about marriage-something about needing government validation for their relationship.

"But I wouldn't mind it with you hot dog," he said with a wink, making Alex blush and groan simultaneously.

The kid thing was a bit more serious. Alex had wanted to be a dad since forever-dreamed of it really. It was something his parents had mocked him about when he came out, claiming gay men couldn't be parents.

But things had come so far since then-they could hire a surrogate or adopt now. "What about fostering?" Willie asked shyly.

"What about it?" Alex asks.

"Could we be foster parents for a bit first?" Willie clarifies. "I was a foster kid for so long, jumping from house to house, so I know there's not enough good ones out there. Plus a lot of older kids end up in the system, and they never got adopted."

"Because everyone wants babies," Alex concluded. Which, he couldn't say much, that's what he wanted too. Watching a child grow right from the start-like it was their own, not one they essentially bought. But he could see Willie's point-he had never found a real home or family until Caleb found him right before he aged out of the system.

And well, Caleb was more like a fabulous uncle than a dad, so Alex could see Willie's point about finding older kids needing a real family unit. "We can do that, sure," he assured him.

It was a few years later, when they had a house to call their own, rings on their fingers and steady jobs that they apply-Alex knowing the agency would look more kindly on those factors when considering them. There's a lot of paperwork, and visits and assessments.

"Geez with the amount of kids flooding the system you would think there would be less red tape to wade through," Willie grumbled as they submitted yet another sheath of signed contracts.

"I think you'd be happier that they are so particular to weed out the bad homes," Alex replied. "Less Ms. Hannigans this way."

"Well now I wanna watch Annie," Willie said with a grin.

"Carol Burnett or Kathy Bates?" Alex asks with an answering smile.

"Thank you for not making the other remakes an option, and you know my answer is both," Willie replied.

It takes a few months for processing to go though, but eventually they get selected to receive their first kid-Parker who is only staying the weekend until her grandparents can take her on. She's sassy, way too good with locks, and Willie loves her. He slips her some money and their address when she leaves, just in case she ever wants to come back, or write. Alex feels they haven't seen the last of her.

Their next charge is Ollie, who had been a street kid that Willie had caught sleeping at the street park. He is in the system, so his social worker is happy enough for them to take him. He's a bit rough around the edges, but he bonds with them quickly enough, and a whiz in the kitchen.

It's kind of heart breaking when they try to shift him to another home, Willie even telling them he's welcome to stay as long as he wants. Alex is a bit more realistic, knowing this is how things work, that they don't have control over how long each kid stays. There's lots of tears when Ollie leaves, but he promises to call when he gets to Toledo-where his uncle lives to let them know he's okay.

They get the twins, Micah and Solange next, who are a handful, but ultimately sweet. Then Kasey, Hanna, Roger, and Bianca. None of them stay long, but Alex feels they leave better off than they were when they came.

Willie is the one who approaches him about maybe looking for something a little more permanent. "I love that we've been able to help so many kids but it hurts so much when they go. I want one that stays, that's ours. We can keep fostering... but I want a baby."

Alex brings him in for a hug, and agrees. They decide to adopt, since they're already in the system, making it easier. They meet a lot of couples who are pregnant, but none of them decide on Alex and Willie for whatever reason.

Then their social worker calls, asking if they'd be opposed to a toddler.

Isla is not even two, but lost her parents in an accident, and has no other family. She's a gorgeous little redhead who is pretty happy despite the tragedy that's befallen her. They foster her for a bit, just to make sure it's a good fit, but before the end of the year she's theirs officially.

The next summer though, Parker shows back up, having run away from her abusive grandparents, and they welcome her with open arms. "But there's a better lock on the liquor cabinet," Alex warns her.

"You know I love a challenge!" she exclaims. Willie buys her a good set of lockpicks, and sets her up a whole set of locks and old safes he found in the garage, telling her to go mad. "Hopefully that keeps out of doing illegal stuff," he comments wryly.

"I'll start putting money towards bail," Alex replies.

The social worker tries to get her to go back to her family, but she makes an impassioned plea to stay here, and finally confesses what her family was actually like. They agree to let her stay while they investigate, but with her almost eighteen and the speed with which the system works, Alex is fairly confident she's theirs to keep.

Ollie turns up around Christmas, confessing that his uncle found it too hard to take care of him, and he'd loved it here, so could he stay please?

"Good thing we bought a big house," Willie said as he made up their guest room.

"I think we need to take our name off the fostering list though," Alex replied. "Just until one of these three find their own place."

"I'm okay with that," Willie stated. "I think we have our hands full with three anyways."

So in the end, Alex becomes a dad-even if only one of his three kids calls him that-Parker calls them Lexie and Wils, Ollie; Vati and Baba, and well he's sure Isla, who adores her big brother will pick that up before she hits four. But he doesn't mind-it's not what they call him, it's the sentiment behind it.

He's their dad no matter what, they've all agreed to that, given the Best Dad Ever mug collection he's got started. And that's the important part.

#filled prompts #ficlet #willex #julie and the phantoms

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epithet-beloved · 8 months

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hello!!! flower shop sylvie x GN mundie reader Mayhaps??? Sylvie wanting to do a nice gesture for his friends (cough Molly cough) and decides to get flowers but finds this cute flower shop worker…

(Bonus if they stop by him at the hospital and give him flowers??!!!)

YELLOW ROSES

synopsis… Sylvie pretends to know things about flowers. It goes…..well?

ft. Sylvester "Sylvie" Ashling

tags… flower shop, meet cute, fluff, first meeting, reader knows flower language

word count… 1266

a/n… this is my first time writing the goober I hope I do him justice ✧ 🦄

The first thing Sylvie wanted to do when he got out of the hospital was settle the score. With Molly, that is. Revenge against that museum lady would come…..later.

Molly had been quite generous with her get well soon gifts while he was recovering, so it was only natural that he do the same for her. It had taken a while to squeeze her location out of a reluctant Giovanni, but he was glad to know that his friend was okay.

Heh…..friend. It was a nice sounding word. Now all that’s left is to find out what kind of gifts friends get each other.

Not that he didn’t know that. Not at all! Sylvie’s got a master’s degree, of course he would know something so simple! He just…..needed to decide what would be appropriate. Yeah.

At first, he considered getting a toy, but considering Molly literally lives in a toy store, she might be sick of seeing those……so what else? A card is a safe bet. He could draw a little bear on there. She likes those, right? He’s usually above such childish things like doodling, but Molly’s just a little kid, so he’s sure she’d love that kind of thing.

Alright, he’d give her a card. But what else? People usually put gifts with cards…..a gift, a gift, what’s a safe gift?

Well, lots of people gave him flowers while he was in the hospital…..having that many bouquets in vases kind of made the room stuffy, but just getting a small bundle wouldn’t hurt, right? It seemed like the perfect gift. Courteous, sophisticated, and mature! Like him, a mature adult!

So, he went out on a Tuesday afternoon (because adults go out on weekdays!) to look for something suitable. The map online said there was a florist near here…..he knew he could have gotten delivery, but he didn’t want to seem cheap or lazy. Friends are supposed to do thoughtful gestures for each other….right?

The hand painted roses on the display windows let the doctor know that he was in the right place. Red, pink, white, yellow….so many different colors. Did they all mean the same thing?

Well, maybe roses were too cliché. And Doctor Sylvester Ashling was anything but predictable and corny. As he opened the front door, the jingling of a bell snapped him out of his thoughts. Sylvie was then forced to be very aware of the clerk standing at the desk, who offered a smile and a polite wave. Tense, but not wanting to be rude, the boy would return the gesture. They actually seemed kind of cute…..but he wasn’t here to socialize. Or maybe he was just trying to avoid how awkward he got when talking to people he wanted to be friends with.

Aside from the option of making your own, there were pre-arranged bouquets in vases with one type of flower, some with two or three as well. Green eyes instantly glazed over the multicolored roses, flickering between labels to read the names.

Poppies, gardenias, hydrangeas……he paused on the carnations. They were large and ruffled, almost like they were made of paper rather than actual organic material. Now, what color would Molly like? Something related to bears, probably……maybe yellow? It was like honey. That was bear related.

But as he reached for the yellow carnations, a polite voice nearly made him jump out of his shoes.

“Oh, are you getting those for somebody?”

Sylvie stared at the clerk with owlish eyes. For goodness’ sake, he literally had a degree in talking to people, albeit in a slightly different setting. So why was he freezing up at just a question and a pretty smile?

Eventually, the boy managed to clear his throat and force out, “A friend of mine.” The clerk’s apologetic smile now only made him more nervous. Had he managed to say something wrong less than ten words in?

“Then you might not want get those flowers.”

“Um,” Sylvie would stutter, hating himself for his lack of confidence, “why is that?”

“Well, in flower language, they usually mean rejection…..or disappointment.”

“Oh, I….” The doctor reflexively wanted to say ‘I knew that’, but he knew just as well as the clerk did that he most certainly did not. “I see. Do you have any recommendations?”

The sight of the stranger perking up eased his nerves somehow, though he didn’t really understand why. “Sure! Do you have anything specific you’re looking for, or….?”

“I guess, just…..yellow ones?”

Immediately, the clerk nodded with understanding. “Oh, that’s easy! Some yellow roses would be great!”

This unexpected answer made Sylvie cock a brow. “Roses?”

“What, did you think roses were just for expressing romantic feelings?”

The awkward pause while Sylvie looked at his feet informed the stranger that the answer was yes. And yet they refrained from laughing, something he was thankful for.

“Roses can actually mean a lot of things depending on their color! The association with love most people think of is for red roses, but the yellow flowers actually mean feelings of friendship!”

It was quite easy to see why this person worked at a florist. They were so happy and excited to share this information to somebody completely clueless on the subject like Sylvie. It was sweet, easy to understand, and never condescending. For once, not knowing something didn’t make Sylvie feel like an idiot.

“I didn’t know that,” he said strangely happily, as if expressing his lack of knowledge might make this stranger talk to him more. “I think those are what I’ll get. Um, thank you.”

The look on the florist’s face made him think that even if he hadn’t thanked them or even said anything, they just would have been happy to share the knowledge of flowers with another person. “No problem! I’ll get you one from the back — the ones in the vases are just displays.”

The time between the clerk leaving and coming back was something long forgotten in Sylvie’s mind. It was as if any time without them was just a waste of brain storage. All he could recall was when he again saw their smiling face and felt their hand against his own while they handed him his change. It left him fumbling with the bouquet and praying that they didn’t notice his pink cheeks.

“Thanks for coming! I left a business card with a phone number in there in case you ever need some more help with flowers.”

Sylvie couldn’t think of any situation where he would need more help with flowers, and yet he found himself saying, “That sounds great, thank you too!”

He only bothered to inspect said business card when he was several blocks away from the florist, fresh bouquet in hand. The doctor had expected it to just be a number for the shop, but imagine the shock on his face when he saw a handwritten cell number with a winky face and a daisy drawn next to it.

Was……was he being flirted with?

Thoughts flooded the poor boy’s mind instantaneously. Should he call and ask what this meant? Or would calling be too clingy? Maybe he should just text, and act all cool and coy about it. Does this mean Giovanni can’t call him “bitchless” anymore?

Briefly, he considered reading up on flower language to impress you the next time you talked, but that thought was quickly thrown out like a wilted rose. Sylvie didn’t want to hear about any of that stuff from a book — he’d much rather hear it from you.

#🦄's writings #epithet erased #epithet erased x reader #epithet erased imagines #Sylvester Ashling #Sylvester Ashling x reader #Sylvester Ashling imagines

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nattinatalia · 2 years

Text

Jack Harlow x Reader x Daughter x Instagram AU

Liked by allabouttheharlows, harlowsupdates, and 7,678,345 others

enews Like father, like daughter. Seems like little miss Harlow doesn’t like being captured by paparazzi. Every time we tried getting her attention she would ignore us and give us attitude. Link in bio for the rest of the pictures.

View all 1,100 comments

alizemiaharlow My pet peeve is a camera in my face. Have you ever heard of personal space?

alizemiaharlow Also, the person who took these was following me all day. And being rude, This is why I have that look on my face. I’m always nice and I don’t mind saying hi, my parents raised me to be kind but to also respect myself. don’t yell nasty things my way and don’t whistle to get my attention, I’m not a dog. The only time my name was called, was when I put my glasses on and I was called a bitch for it ❤️

jackharlow EXCUSE ME??? I must be reading shit wrong? I must’ve gone completely blind, because no way I’m reading that people were following my daughter and being rude to her, because if that’s the case, you’re going to be really sorry.

yourusername ENEWS RUN ME MY MONEY! what you’re not about to do is say my daughter was being mean, when clearly your worker was harassing her.

urbanwyatt 🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻

yourbestiename DISGUSTING!!! Leave my niece alone.

allabouttheharlows 😬 😱 Yoooo Jack and y/n have never cared about paparazzi drama.

harlowsupdates true!!! But they were attacking their daughter so totally understandable.

Liked by jackharlow, yourusername, alizemiaharlow, and 8,678,345 others

ezharlow She might be older but don’t get it twisted, I’ll catch hands to defend her. My ride or die. Love you Mia bug 🐞 ❤️

View all 1,900 comments

jackharlow That’s right!!!!

alizemiaharlow 😂🥺🫶🏻 ilyyy Ez cheesy 🧀

yourusername Ok we’re not catching anyones hands. Let’s just relax a little before doing something bad.

urbanwyatt As you should little punk ❤️

Liked by yourusername, ezharlow, urbanwyatt, nemoachida, and 8,667,355 others

jackharlow Lunch dates with my first born 💜

View all 1,700 comments

yourusername My little lady 😍

cassiewyatt 😍💗

ezharlow Admit it, she’s your favorite!

jackharlow I’m not doing this with you again punk.

ezharlow 🙄

yourusername Stop calling my son a punk.

jackharlow Babe, he’s a pot stirring punk.

ezharlow Harlow, listen to your wife!!!!!!

alizemiaharlow Lmao you start shit because you know mom will defend you. Mommy’s boy at your age???

ezharlow Sure am and what?? 🥰

jackharlow She was my mami first 🤪🤤

alizemiaharlow OH COME ON DAD 😩

ezharlow DISGUSTING OLD MAN! STOP

yourusername Zadddyyyyy 😋 😘

ezharlow MOM I WILL BLOCK YOU BOTH

jackharlow 🤪🤪🤪🤪

Liked by yourusername, ezharlow, urbanwyatt, jackharlow, and 8,677,345 others

alizemiaharlow Bring your kid to work day! It’s settled, I’m the favorite because he could’ve brought the other 3 😊🤭😇

View all 1,900 comments

ezharlow Aww you thought your were going to hurt my feelings? I’ve been known. The twins tho, they might cry.

alizemiaharlow As long as you know you’re not the favorite.

ezharlow I’m moms favorite

alizemiaharlow You’re such a moms boy is disturbing

ezharlow Says daddy’s princess 🤮

jackharlow I’m not even going to entertain this subject

alizemiaharlow Dad, it’s settled, book closed! Move on. We know!!!

jackharlow Young lady I’m not about to get in trouble.

ezharlow You already are, I showed mom.

yourusername You know, as a parent it’s our job to deny any accusations like these. Husband, you have failed miserably.

jackharlow I DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING!!!!

yourusername My point exactly.

twin1 Ezequiel I think you’re just nobodies favorite

twin2 I don’t even care, I rather be left alone.

ezharlow Mom, dad, the twins aren’t supposed to be on social media, they’re 12?

jackharlow True, who let y’all be on Instagram?

yourusername Who made the accounts?

twin2 My godfather @ druski2funnny

druski2funnny YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO SNITCH ME OUT!!!

twin1 But you said it’s always fun when we do the snitching and the pot stirring, so make up your mind?

twin2 Yea especially when you get to see everyone go crazy at each other 😈

ezharlow WHO ARE YOU? I’M SCARED FOR MY LIFE.

twin1 What life?

urbanwyatt HAHAHA I love the twins

TAG LIST

@heavyhitterheaux 💕

@harlowsbby 💕

@arination99 💕

@cmalass 💕

@jackharloww 💕

#instagram au #jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #alize mia harlow #ez harlow #baby harlow

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itsmaferart · 2 years

Text

SxF Chapter 65 · An extraordinary mother·

Warning: This contains spoilers

As I said before, I'm reviewing SxF chapters. But today's chapter was surprising and I needed to analyze it the moment I saw it. Without even expecting it, today I was able to surprise myself with a Plot twist that made me fall off my chair. I clarify, that all this is from my point of view, based on the manga.

After exploring Twilight and Anya in previous chapters, it was Yor's turn.

I love that the opening chapter in the most everyday way. Yor doing the shopping for her family, being in charge of bringing something to her adorable girl. Crunchiest tea Cake!

But Yor's surreal imagination sabotages her again —I see that it is customary for Mr. and Mrs. Forger to make complex and absurd assumptions xD

Again, we return to one of the biggest conflicts that the Yor Briar/Forger character has "Her performance as a mother". From Yor's naive perspective, normal people know how to be normal. They have no problems integrating into society, social roles and they know how to respond to everyday conflicts

Yor's problem is that she overestimates normality, and makes it look like "an ideal of perfection." She feels limited by not coming from a standard family.

What she ignores is that all these people are more or just as insecure as she is. Nobody teaches us to be parents or married wives. These are things that we are discovering as we go and we need a lot of support.

But she and Yuri had no support, only mutual. Two kids alone trying to survive. Added to this, her profession as an assassin.

Unfortunately, except Yuri. Yor has had no support from anyone. Everything changed when she met Loid (Twilight) who has been the first person to support her and see how incredible she is. Of course, also Anya and Bond adds to this.

But, before the Forgers. Yor was resigned to not leaving the comfort zone created, and her co-workers are envious people who like to annoy her because Yor allows it

I clarify that I don't hate Camila. Honestly, I think she's not a bad person. She's just immature and envious. Yor just needs to learn to respect herself and put her aside

And it is at this point, when Endo exceeds my expectations. Yor is incredible, she is strange and unusual, she has unique abilities. But that makes it extraordinary. And it's nice to meet someone (outside the Forgers) who can see this unpredictable nature as something amazing.

To me, everything about the Desmonds is a mystery. They are so inscrutable that it is difficult for me to make an analysis at this point. I really question their role as the "final bosses" of evil. So I'll leave my speculations for futures

This is my face every time I see Yor, in every panel. I fell in love with her too!

Note: If one day Anya and Demiand get married, we already know that Yor and Melinda are going to get along very well xD

Here, Endo was not enough for one plot twist, but two plot twists. A game of volleyball!!

This panel is dedicated to appreciating the supreme beauty of Yor!!!!!

Every time I see Yor being incredible I think: How could I not want to be married to her? Ultimately, Twilight knows the wife he got

Now, I am going to go to the most important points.

Yor understanding that maternity problems are normal. No mother really knows if what she is doing is right or wrong. Children are people, each with their own needs. The best we can do is understanding, and teach them with all the love possible, and especially protect them. Being normal is not synonymous with being perfect. Because normality is a subjective concept.

Yor learning to socialize and get out of the comfort zone. Meet new perspectives. People who can see their strength as something amazing. And they doesn't stop to judge her. This can help her change and stop evaluating herself negatively.

Now, this won't be the only thing I want to talk about in this chapter. But I reserve it for a post that continues it

Melinda Desmod has been a huge surprise for me. I love that Yor has a canon friend.

It is good to see how Yor becomes a more mature character, with great growth. She is learning to function, gaining more self-confidence, and to balance her perception of herself and the world around her.

This is a giant step, for insecure people who are afraid of the world around them

I hope the next chapter continues in this new arc

#yor forger #spy x family #loid forger #twiyor #yor briar #loid x yor #twilight #anya forger #spyxfamily twilight #yor spy x family #sxf manga #sxf #spy x family manga #spyxfamily #spyxfamily yor #spyxfamily manga 65 #melinda desmond #SxF my chapter analysis #SxF Small theories

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noras-dc-shenanigans · 10 months

Text

Children | Music

The Bats weren’t really music people. Bruce didn’t really care about it, Dick preferred to be the one making the noice, Jason favored quiet for his reading, Tim was just too busy to listen, and Damien… well. League of Assassins: not really the forefront on the ‘hobby’ department.

So when a social worker had shown up with a feral, black haired, sometimes-blue-sometimes-Lazarus-green eyed kid, who was apparently Bruce’s cousin’s son, nobody expected that to change. He was quiet, refused to look anybody in the face, and hid in his room and only came out to eat.

Of course, considering the horrible way all his family and friends had died, and the downright abusive godfather he was removed from two months later after a very public breakdown, nobody blamed him. They had all quickly resolved to leave him alone until he was ready. (Well, mostly all. The others kept their own feral green-eyed kid in line until he got the message.)

That went on for about a week, with the kid, Danny, slowly coming out more and more, a lot like a stray cat. By the second week, he would eat meals with them rather than take his plate back upstairs, to appear magically in the sink sometime afterwords, right before Alfred would load them into the dishwasher.

A few days after the meals, he started answering innocuous questions like ‘what did you do today’ and ‘what’s your opinion on this show?’. Slowly, slowly, Danny learned that they were trustworthy, and started appearing during movies and game nights and on one memorable occasion a month in, joined in on the prank war Steph started, and subsequently won.

(They suspected, based on some of those pranks, that Danny was a meta. Some sort of invisibility and density shifting, from what Barbara found on the cameras afterwords. There was no record of him having been tested for it before, and, well… it wouldn’t be the first time a traumatic event activated someone’s meta-gene.)

So, even with all of that, he was still a pretty quiet kid. Which is why, five weeks after Danny came to live with them, they were all so surprised to hear loud, gothic music blaring out of his room. Like, really loud.

For most of the day. Also for that whole time, never once did Danny leave his room. Not for food, or movie night, or even when Jason intentionally dropped a millipede down Steph’s shirt right outside his door. There was just loud goth music, from 8:00 am until they left for patrol around 9:00 pm.

When they returned a little after 3:00, Alfred informed them that the music had suddenly cut off right at midnight, and Danny had then appeared in the kitchen, eyes red and face swollen in the way that meant a long time crying. He’d grabbed an apple, some granola bars, and at Alfred’s insistence two sandwiches and a large Gatorade before disappearing back into his room.

The next morning, at breakfast, they’d all pretended it didn’t happen. Apparently, the universe decided that the choice of a bunch of detective vigilantes to not invade someone’s privacy was deserving of a reward, because halfway through their meal Danny had set his fork down, taken a deep, slow breath, and said into the hushed room,

“Yesterday was my friend Sam’s birthday. She would’ve been 15. She was super goth, and hated that her parents would dress her up in bright frilly dresses whenever they dragged her along to some gala or rich-person event. Whenever they’d make a comment about me, or my pa-parents, she’d invite me and T- Tucker over and we’d help her pick out the loudest, gothiest music and jud-judge what outfits to buy online by how much her parents would hate them. She- she and Tucker were my only friends since we moved to Amity in first grade. Everyone else thought that because my parents were weird I was too but Tucker was nerdy and Sam was just Sam so we migrated together and stayed and now they’re gone because of me and I—“

He’d gasped, desperately, tears streaming down his face and everybody had moved as the well-trained unit they were, despite all their differences.

20 minutes later, the movie room had been requisitioned for a giant nest of pillows and blankets, and everyone piled in. There was hot cocoa and fresh-baked warm cookies and hugs and confessions. Bruce snuck away just long enough to task Cyborg with looking into the GIW and Amity Park’s ghost problem. Jason discovered that the Pit goes from pissed wolverine to cuddly kitten if he held Danny close. So of course he cuddles right in, just for the Pit, no other reason, ignore the hair petting and the weird purring sound he made.

Eventually, they’ll all have to get up. Some to work, others to work, and others still for various other activities and responsibilities.

But that’s later.

For now, they comfort a grieving kid, and, maybe, plot the downfall of a certain Fruitloop.

#danny fenton #batfamily #… Why do these keep winding up angsty!#I started this meaning it to be fun and it turned into a tear fest!#DPxDCFamilyWeek

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maccreadysbaby · 4 months

Text

A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: bullying, anxiety attacks, slight violence?

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

welcome to jesse todryk’s funeral, hosted by asten evans and an old history textbook. by the way, both of asten’s portuguese lines are telling of his character and foreshadowing, so if you want to pop those suckers into google translate to read them, i would love it, thanks

part ten

❝ BLUDGEONED BY A BOOK ❞

FRIDAY — AUGUST 7 — 8:00AM

BENTLEY WENT TO SCHOOL ON FRIDAY SIMPLY TO DISTRACT HIMSELF. From everything. From Dick (who was still not awake.), from Damian wanting him gone, from the Secret Keeper that kept popping in and out of his head. He figured school would help him at least stop thinking about all of that for a while.

He hadn’t gone to dinner the previous night or breakfast that morning, for the sake of staying away from Damian. It was fine — he never got very hungry when he was upset anyways. It was easy to fake that he was just tired when Bruce came to check on him after dinner since he hadn’t slept properly in a couple days. (He had gotten four hours of uninterrupted of sleep the night before, though, which was really good compared to the cat naps he’d been taking.)

It was also easy to fake that everything Damian said didn’t hurt half as bad as it actually did, and that it didn’t make him want to cry his eyes out or give him extra anxiety about being taken away by social workers.

The car ride to school was completely silent, and Bentley sat in the passenger’s seat next to Duke instead of in the back with Damian like he usually did. Thankfully, it went mostly unnoticed. Bentley assumed Damian wasn’t about to tell anyone about what he’d said, so Bentley wasn’t going to, either.

But he was going to try and fix it.

He’d been wracking his tired brain for hours (given his four hours of sleep had been eight pm to midnight and he’d been awake since then.) on how in the world he could live up to the Wayne name without being a superhero. He came up with nothing. He wasn’t smart enough or strong enough to be Robin like all of Bruce’s sons had, and even suggesting he be Robin instead of Damian was ludicrous. Bentley still cried when it stormed. Robin couldn’t be a kid that cried when it stormed.

So, Robin was off the table. (It had never been on the table, actually.) Bentley couldn’t even beat a twelve-year-old at a spar, so superheroing was off the table, too, and now the table was empty.

But that was fine. He’d figure it out eventually. Right now, he needed to focus on the task at hand — school.

More specifically, not getting lost after he told Duke he could walk himself around the building. They were a bit earlier than usual, it was about eight, so he had time to get lost if he really couldn’t remember the way. The sun was shining and making the building gold. He took the left at the top of the staircase. At least he knew the left was right.

Thankfully, when he turned left, students spreading everywhere and filling the halls with lively chatter, one blue-haired-Brazilian made not getting lost a pretty easy feat.

“Hey, Whittaker. Feeling better?” Asten drifted out of basically nowhere, in his uniform and smelling like cigarettes per usual. Bentley fell into step with him in the crowded hallway. He pretty much remembered where Dr. Keene’s room was, but he definitely wouldn’t have an issue finding it now.

“Yeah,” Bentley replied simply, tugging his backpack tighter on his shoulders.

“Good. It sucks to be sick in the first week,” Asten stated. “Though I guess it’s never a bad time to have a vacation from the Academy. Well, as much of a vacation as you can get with Nico playing the role of temporary teacher.”

Bentley snickered lightly as they continued down the hallway. He could see doors on the left coming up, and he was pretty sure the second one was Dr. Keene’s. He was fairly confident he would’ve found it even without Asten to assure that he was going the right way.

Speaking of, Asten cursed under his breath, and Bentley glanced over at him just in time for him to throw his jacket, irremovable, suffocating cigarette-smell and all, over Bentley’s face. He made a surprised noise and slowed to a stop, grabbing the bottom of the fabric.

“Asten?”

“Shh. Keep walking, ginger,”

He felt Asten’s hand land in the center of his back to keep him from veering off course, and after a second of (literally) blind trust, the blue-haired-boy pulled the jacket off of Bentley’s head and messed his hair all up.

“Todryk and his squad of gremlins went by. Ever since he heard the ‘new Wayne’ got sick on the third day of school, he’s been talking about having a conversation with you. And Todryk never just talks,” Asten explained. Bentley blinked and smoothed his hair down the best he could without seeing it.

“Oh… thanks,” He replied after a moment. Asten shrugged as they made for Dr. Keene’s room.

“The old throw-something-over-your-head move only works a few times, but it really does wonders. You won’t believe how many beatings I’ve warded off by hiding my face,” He continued. “Especially from Todryk. He’s dumber than a box of rocks.”

Bentley snickered again, and Asten cracked a smile as they took a left into the Enviornmental Science classroom. They’d been learning about different types of precipitation when Bentley stayed home, and he was pretty sure Dr. Keene’s post said they were going over the types of weather and water cycle one more time today before they moved onto a different subject in the unit.

He and Asten made their way to their trio of desks and sat down in it. Nico wasn’t there, but it was early, and Asten didn’t seem bothered about it, so Bentley wasn’t, either. Instead he pulled out his phone and replied to a text from Bruce that said all good? that he’d received not one minute ago. He hoped his simple yes was a good enough response.

“Did you hear? Another kid from Bristol vanished this morning — a girl,” Asten said, leaning forward over the desk. “And her friends said she told them about a nightmare with the Secret Keeper the night before. You know, a lot of these missing people claimed to have seen her.”

Bentley nodded, trying his best to push her terrible face out of his head and keep his expression neutral. “That’s so weird,” He forced out.

“The weirdest,” Asten responded, grabbing his red pen from his backpack and spinning it between his fingers.

Bentley tapped his fingers on the table. “Where do you hear about all this stuff?”

Asten shrugged. “I have nothing better to do in Crime Alley than bum off the nearest place’s wifi and look into current events. It’s either that or go get mugged for fun.”

Bentley didn’t say anything. Instead, Dr. Keene walked into the classroom and, after a second, started making his way to their desks. His light brown eyes were bouncing between Bentley and Asten as he made his way to them, and he slowed to a stop next to their group of tables.

“Nice job on your work while you were out. Most students choose to ignore it,” Dr. Keene said to Bentley with a warm little smile. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

Bentley nodded up at him, sheepishly. “Okay… thank you.”

“Of course,” He stated. He patted Bentley’s shoulder lightly and proceeded across the room to his desk. Asten snorted.

“What?” Bentley asked.

Asten shook his head, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms with a little smile playing on his lips. “Already becoming the teacher's pet and you didn’t even know it. Typical Wayne kid if I've ever seen one.”

“What do you mean?” Bentley questioned.

“Bruce Wayne’s kids have always been teacher’s favorites. One of the algebra teacher’s still has Dick Grayson’s graduation invitation on her wall. And the theater coach can’t go a single class without talking about Jason Todd.”

Bentley snickered a little. He’d have never pinged Jason as a theater kid, but he guessed it made sense given his love of literature and extensive knowledge regarding classic plays and books.

“Are you in theater?” Bentley questioned.

“Dear God, no,” Asten replied with a snicker. “Sometimes I hang around in their rehearsals after school if I don’t feel like fighting my way back into the Alley yet.”

Bentley nodded lightly, but didn’t respond.

The bell rang, and Dr. Keene made his way to the front of the room. He kept all the textbooks on a shelf near his skeleton, and he began to grab them and hand them out.

“The water cycle review worksheet is on page sixteen. Lucky for you guys, since it’s Friday, I’m not going to make you do any more than that,” He stated, handing out the textbooks to a few students and going back to retrieve more. “On Monday we’ll get into the real meat of unit one, about the sky. It’s one of my favorite units.”

Bentley listened quietly as he brought two books to their table and put them on their desks. “I think you guys will find it interesting, even though we won’t be talking about UFOs or other worldly entities.”

Bentley saw Asten make an ew face, and he snickered.

Dr. Keene finished handing out textbooks. “You can talk with your tablemates, just not too loudly; and you may use your cellphones after you finish the page and bring it to me.”

Bentley watched him go over to his desk and click around on his computer. Not a moment later, soft music came on, and he sat down in his chair.

Quiet chatter began to filter across the classroom. Bentley turned to the right page in his textbook, like everyone else was, and glanced over at the empty desk across from Asten.

“Where’s Nico?” He questioned softly, and Asten shrugged, glancing up only after scribbling something on the worksheet.

“I’m not sure. He said he was here a little bit ago, and he’s so committed I think he’d rather die than be late for class. I’ll text him again,”

Bentley watched in silence as Asten pulled out his phone and typed under the table. He couldn’t help the slight buzz that surfaced under his skin. Nico said he was at school, but didn’t come to class. That wouldn’t be so freaky if half of Gotham wasn’t vanishing without a trace.

Asten put his phone away, and they worked on their worksheets.

For five minutes. For ten minutes. For fifteen minutes. Asten sent a few more texts during that time, but got no responses. Twenty minutes. They finished their worksheets and there was still an empty desk at their table.

“Still no response,” Asten stated, and while he was still cool as a cucumber, it was obvious he was getting suspicious. “I’m about to call his scrawny butt.”

Bentley said nothing, but after a few moments of silence, the classroom door opened and the scrawny butt in question came through it.

Dr. Keene simply asked: “Do you have a late note, Mister Rockefeller?” And when Nico shook his head no, he nodded and didn’t say anything else.

Bentley and Asten both watched as Nico made for his chair and sat down quickly. It was painfully obvious he’d been crying — Bentley could recognize the red-rimmed blue eyes and pink nose combination anywhere. He’d spent a lot of time locked in bathrooms waiting for it to fade off of his own features back at Whittaker Estate.

Dr. Keene brought Nico a book and told him what they were doing, and gave him a supportive pat on the back before he walked away.

Once Dr. Keene was gone, Asten leaned forward. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Nico said back a bit too quickly, flipping his book open with one hand while the other stayed rooted in his lap. His voice wavered way too much for it to pass as anything but emotion.

“You’re a bad liar,”

“Stop it, Asten,” Nico practically pleaded, his dull blue eyes flicking between both of them before he looked down at the book. Asten did, indeed, stop it. He sat back again and took to silently scrutinizing his best friend from across the table, and Bentley was left as the monkey in the middle, glancing between them every now and then.

Bentley’s phone vibrated.

He’s not using his right hand.

He glanced up from Asten’s text and looked back at Nico. He was writing with his left hand (his non-dominant hand, which made his usually neat handwriting way worse than normal.) and his right hand was still sitting, unmoved in his lap.

I see, was what Bentley texted back.

“Nico, what happened?” Asten tried again, quietly. Nico didn’t do anything but shake his head and stare at the book really intensely.

Dr. Keene stood up. “Class wide bathroom break. You can go if you need to, you can stay if you don’t.”

Bentley didn’t miss the way Dr. Keene eyed their little group of desks with something like sympathy. Asten didn’t miss a beat, either. He was up out of his seat and gesturing for Nico and Bentley to follow him before anyone could do anything else. Thankfully, more kids around the room stood, so it didn’t look suspicious.

Bentley rose from his desk and put his phone in his pocket, and Nico begrudgingly stood, too, making sure his hands were in his jacket pockets before he followed Asten out of the room.

The hallways were weird when they were empty. They looked a lot bigger than normal, and they were really quiet. A few more kids filed out of the room behind them, but Asten broke away and went to a farther bathroom. The three of them had hardly stepped inside the tiled room when he turned on his heel and asked:

“What’s wrong with your hand?”

Nico took to staring at the terra-cotta floor. Now that Bentley focused really hard, he could see blood on the cuff of his right blazer sleeve.

“It’s not that bad,” Was his half-whispered defense, and it might’ve held some merit if his eyes weren’t already brimming with just about as much liquid as they could hold without spilling over.

(Geez. Bentley was brand new at this whole friends thing, and something like this had to happen on only his third day in person with them? He had no idea what he was doing. But he guessed he should at least try, right? He did sincerely care about Nico’s wellbeing, so maybe he should just try to treat him the way he treated Damian. Well, the way he treated him before he started avoiding him like the plague.)

“Nico,” Asten said, but the blonde only turned the slightest bit away.

“…You’re bleeding,” Bentley tried quietly, gesturing vaguely to Nico’s sleeve. “Did you get hurt?”

Nico did that thing where he looked long and hard at Bentley’s face. He still wasn’t sure why he did that. But after a solid five seconds of silence, Nico looked away and wiped at his eyes again. Then he extended his bloody hand toward Bentley.

Toward Bentley. The redhead did a double take and glanced around, eyes bouncing to Asten, before he glanced back at Nico and gently pulled his long sleeve out of the way.

“What the hell?” Asten suddenly snapped, moving forward toward them, and Bentley drew in a sharp breath.

The words BRISTOL BRAT were scraped into the back of Nico’s hand, probably with something small and dull (it didn’t look deep or precise enough to be a knife), and they were bloody and still bleeding. It looked like he’d tried to clean it off, because his skin was tinted pink on that hand and on the fingers of the other, and probably gave up when it wouldn’t stop bleeding. Asten jerked on his wrist and pulled his hand closer so he could examine it.

“Was this Todryk?” He practically hissed like some kind of snake. His tone had gone venomous, his eyes stormy and grim. Nothing like the usual carefree aura he carried around, and it threw Bentley for a loop and a half.

Nico was crying again, trying his best to wipe his eyes with his opposite hand. “He cornered me. In an alley, while I was walking here from the bus stop. I-I tried to make it stop bleeding-”

“We’re taking you to the nurse,”

“What? No!” Nico practically squeaked, jerking his hand away from Asten with a pitiful little sob. “If we get him in trouble it’ll just make it worse. Please don’t tell anyone.”

“He scraped words into your hand, Nico. That could be considered torture,”

Nico didn’t reply, but kept wiping furiously at his eyes as he cried quietly, the sound bouncing around the empty bathroom. Bentley wished he could help more than offering support, but he couldn’t really, so he let a hand drift up to rest on one of Nico’s shoulders.

What did Bruce and Dick and everyone do when Bentley was upset, or hurting? Crying?

Bentley stood there for a second, and considered lots of things before he finally settled on asking a risky question. Well, what was the worst that could happen? He’d be shut down?

“… Do you want a hug?”

It was certainly something he’d want if he was in this situation, but not everyone was the same as him. Some people probably hated hugs.

Fortunately, Nico didn’t seem to be one of those people. Because as fast as the half-whispered question could leave Bentley’s mouth, the blonde turned and walked straight into him, prompting Bentley to bring his arms up around his shuddering shoulders.

He noted that Nico was a crier and a hugger. (Both of which Bentley was, too.)

“Ele merece ser queimado vivo,” Asten muttered from off to the side. “We have to tell someone, dude. That’s basically assault.”

“No!” Nico sniffed, bringing his arms up and around Bentley’s back loosely. “Please don’t, Asten, please.”

“Your parents are going to see it anyways,”

“No they won’t,” He protested, and Bentley felt him reposition his head against his shoulder. (It was really strange to be on the giving end of a hug instead of receiving. But he couldn’t say he didn’t like it.)

“Bentley?”

Of course Asten would turn to him for his opinion.

Bentley glanced over at him and blinked. Well, he’d cried himself to sleep last night and didn’t tell anyone, so he guessed if Nico didn’t want anyone to know about the cuts, then they should just… not tell anyone. Right?

Varying Wayne voices that said tell someone if it gets worse bounced around in his skull. Jason hadn’t told anyone about Bentley’s hurt hand all those months ago, but he’d made it clear he would if it got any worse.

Bentley shrugged as much as he could without disturbing Nico’s position too much. “Uh… I think we should… do what makes him comfortable. For now. Unless it gets worse.”

“Yeah,” Nico agreed quietly, with a string of little coughs. His crying was starting to sound a little more wheezy than Bentley would’ve liked.

Asten let out a puff of air. “Fine, fine. But if he goes stabbing you with knives or trying to brand your other hand, I’ll shove his own foot so far up his rear end it comes out of his mouth.”

Nico pulled away from Bentley and fished something out of his jacket pocket. It was the little gray thing he’d puffed on once after school — the thing Bentley thought might’ve been, like, drugs or something? He watched curiously as Nico shook it for a few seconds and then put it in his mouth, pushed in the top of it with a little hiss, and breathed in deep. He did it twice.

Bentley didn’t ask what it was.

“Let’s just go back to class,” Nico muttered after a few quiet seconds. “Please.”

The three of them shared glances, gave Nico time to calm down, and then did exactly that.

Most of the day went normally. After they went back to class, they reverted back to their most common source of conversation: missing people and conspiracies. Bentley went to the library for free period, answered some texts from Bruce, and went to Geography and talked about time zones.

It was when he was walking between Geography and Spanish that things went wrong again.

The Geography classroom wasn’t that far from the Spanish room — only a few moments walk. Asten was probably already in there (his classroom was even closer to Spanish than Bentley’s.) and ready to talk about aliens or something. Bruce had texted Bentley several more times during the day to check in on him, and he was answering one of those many messages on his way through the halls, not paying much attention to the people around him in favor of responding timely.

So, naturally, that was the moment someone chose to grab the handle of his backpack and jerk him backwards, and his fall was only broken by his back slamming into the row of lockers. His phone fell out of his hand and clattered on the tile.

“Hey there, Wayne,”

Bentley looked up at who was talking. It was a really tall boy (taller than Asten, who was already a lot taller than Bentley.) with fuzzy blonde hair and little black gemstone earrings. There were two other boys behind him, one was short and pudgy with a big jacket and beanie, and the other looked like a stocky athlete in a varsity Gotham Academy jacket.

Blonde hair. Dumb earrings.

Crap.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find you sooner or later? You’ve been hanging around with my favorite little nerds to scare!” Jesse Todryk’s vomit-green eyes scanned Bentley judgmentally, and he sneered.

Bentley said nothing. What was he supposed to say? Jesse was towering over him like his dad always used to and it was making his heart hammer behind his ribs. He wasn’t touching him, he wasn’t coming at him, he had to remind himself. But the not-so-distant memory of Nico crying in the bathroom because Todryk scraped words into his hand like some kind of sick torture-fest made him want to cry just a little.

Instead, he leaned down and picked up his phone. The hallways still had a few kids in it, so he assumed making a scene wouldn’t be good. Jesse made a face, a scowl, Bentley saw it in his peripheral. He slid his phone in his pocket and made a move to walk away — the Spanish classroom was so close — but Jesse grabbed his shoulder and jerked him back, shoving him into the lockers and keeping the hand on his shoulder so he couldn’t move.

“I wasn’t done talking to you, Wayne,” He spat, his face drawing closer to Bentley’s with an annoyed scowl.

“Get off,” Bentley tried quietly, squirming under his grip, but that only got his shoulder pressed harder into the metal behind him.

“Nah, I don’t think I will,”

The two boys behind Todryk disappeared off to the right.

“I’m so tired of the Wayne’s running this school. There’s always been a Wayne here, everybody loves them. They’re the center of attention everywhere they go. The golden students,”

Bentley sucked in a shaky breath, glancing around the emptying hallways for someone, anyone, but the few kids still going past were ignoring them really well and no adults were around.

He thought he was done getting hurt when he left his father.

He squirmed again, ducking down in an attempt to run under Jesse’s arm to the Spanish room, but the older boy caught him by the scruff of his blazer and yanked him back like he was some kind of cat.

“You might be quick, but quick doesn’t beat me,”

Bentley could hear his blood pumping in his ears as Todryk shoved him back against the lockers with a sick looking smile, pushing a hand against both of his shoulders, this time.

“I’m so sick and tired of the Waynes running this city. Being everyone’s favorites,” He spat, in Bentley’s face, only a few inches from it. Bentley’s eyes were burning spectacularly, but he didn’t dare let himself cry, not in front of him. “Let’s see how much your teacher likes you after you skip her class.”

He was suddenly being moved. Jesse grabbed him by his hair and pulled him across the hallway and Bentley made a small sound. It reminded him of the nightmare where his father threw him down the stairs.

He wanted so badly to wiggle out of his grip, but fighting always only got more pain. So what did he do?

He took it, just like he used to take it from his father. He stayed quiet while the bully dragged him along, and quiet when he shoved him forward with a thwack onto the tile in a little janitor's closet, and quiet when the door slammed with a twisted, bubbly laugh.

And he was alone. In the dark. There was a sliver of light coming from under the door.

“Have fun in there until pick-up, Wayne,”

He heard laughter and footsteps recede.

Bentley pulled himself out of the floor in the pitch black room and made for the door, twisting the handle.

It didn’t twist. Not an inch, not a centimeter. It didn’t move.

He tried it again. He tried it again and again and pulled on it and jerked it and the door was slamming around on it's hinges and it sounded exactly like the door from… home.

Bentley’s heart felt like it was about to rip right out of him. It was pitch black. It was so dark, just like it always was when his father… just like it was back…

“Let me out!” He tried, jerking on the knob. “Please!”

“Please, father, I’m sorry!”

The buzzing in his body turned into trembling and the tightness in his chest felt like it was choking him. He opened his mouth to call for help again, but all that came out was a strange little noise and a pitiful sob.

He was in the closet.

After who knows how many minutes he spent fighting with the knob that wouldn’t budge, he sat down on the floor, tears streaking down his face at an unmatchable rate. He kept tugging at his own shirt in an attempt to make his lungs work but they wouldn’t. Everything hurt. Everything hurt.

This hasn’t happened since the grocery store.

It hadn’t happened without Tim.

He tried to remember how Tim helped him at the store but he couldn’t. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see because it was too dark. All he could think about was his father ripping open the closet door and having his way. He was going to die.

He flinched when his phone clattered out of his jacket pocket onto the floor.

His phone.

He picked the little device up in his trembly hands, sending nothing more than the word help to the very first name at the top of his list.

He didn’t even comprehend that there were actually two names there, and that it was a group chat, not a single message thread.

A flood of messages came in only seconds later, including an are you okay, a where are you, and a what’s wrong?

He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t see the screen through his own tears and he couldn’t make his fingers move no matter how hard he tried.

His phone started ringing. The caller ID was Asten. He tapped the green button.

“Bentley? What’s going on? Where are you?”

He couldn’t breathe.

“Are you crying?”

He tried to make words come out but he couldn’t, he couldn’t. Even with Asten’s questions lingering in the air, laced with concern and alertness, he couldn’t talk.

“Where are you, dude? I’m leaving class,”

Bentley sucked in as much air as he could. It wasn’t much, and it hurt, and he sobbed. He knew he needed to talk for them to find him but he couldn’t breathe. “Locked… the closet.” It hurt his chest to force the words out and he started coughing so hard he wanted to throw up. Everything hurt.

“Jesus, dude — what closet? Where are you?”

He coughed harshly. The only thing his brain supplied was Whittaker Estate, Whittaker Estate, Whittaker Estate. Instead of saying that, he sobbed again. “… I don’t know.”

“Shove something under the door so I can find you,”

It took way too much willpower to force his body to move. It felt like he was underwater, like he weighed a million pounds. He felt around on the nearby shelves until he grabbed something thin and fabric-ey, and shoved it under the door into the hallway.

There was a moment of silence, before Asten’s voice came again, quieter: “He said he’s locked in a closet.”

It was clear he was talking to someone else, but Bentley couldn’t think straight enough to work out who else’s voice he heard. He was too focused on trying to breathe and not throwing up.

Bentley coughed more and silence passed, and he couldn’t think of anything but his father, his father, his father.

“I see it,” Asten said, but Bentley hardly heard him through the static in his brain and his own unquenchable wheezes and sobs. Everything hurt so bad.

There was rattling on the other side of the door, a weird sound that told him there was someone else on the other side, and he curled in on himself, scooting back into the farthest corner of the closet so maybe his father wouldn’t be able to reach him right away.

The door swung open, light flooded in, and Bentley’s father had blue hair.

“Oh my God,”

Someone else came into his view, someone blonde, and then they were in the closet next to him. He flinched away but they grabbed one of his arms, gently.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay,” They repeated quietly, like a broken record. “It’s okay, Bentley.”

He got guided into a one-sided embrace on the floor, and he could hear them breathing, and their heart pounding.

“It’s okay, Bentley. It’s okay,”

“It’s okay,” Is what they kept saying. Over and over, for a long time. Bentley was thankful for whatever strange hug-thing he was in, because he was able to hear their breaths and try to match it. It didn’t stop the crying or the cramping in his organs or the headache that was starting to gnaw at his skull, but it gave him some clarity, at least.

When he was finally able to think and look around and comprehend things again, he realized that Nico was the one holding onto him, and Asten was crouched in the doorway, watching them quietly. His green eyes looked stormy again, but also sympathetic, and Bentley couldn’t see Nico’s face, but he was pretty sure he was crying from the way he was breathing.

A long moment of silence ensued as Bentley re-gathered his bearings.

“We should call your dad,” Asten suggested softly, shifting his positioning in the doorway. “Or… take you to the office.”

Bentley just shook his head. If acting like that in front of his newfound friends wasn’t embarrassing enough, going to the office like that would humiliate him. His phone was laying next to him again, probably because he’d dropped it, and the call Bruce idea didn’t sound so bad. So he used one of his legs to nudge it toward Asten.

“You’re okay with me using it?” He questioned.

Bentley nodded, and the blue-haired-boy picked up the device and began tapping on it.

“That was scary.” Nico said quietly, pulling away from Bentley so he was just sitting next to him in the floor. His eyes were red-rimmed just like they had been earlier that morning. Bentley repositioned himself against the shelf behind him and pulled his knees up, taking a shuddering breath. He wanted Tim. “Was it Jesse? Did he lock you in here?”

Bentley silently nodded.

Nico huffed. “What a jerk.”

“…Hey, Mister Wayne. My name is Asten Evans, I’m a friend of Bentley’s… yeah, no, that’s what I’m calling about,”

Bentley glanced up at Asten, who was now in the hallway, drawing imaginary shapes on the tile with the toe of his shoe.

“One of the school bullies locked him in a janitor's closet, and I think he… had a panic attack or something. But it's over now, he’s okay, if not a little shaken,”

Bentley just stared at the floor. He couldn’t hear the other voice, but he could imagine Bruce’s immediate worry when he realized it was another kid’s voice on the opposite end.

“Yeah, we’re, uh, still at the closet, actually. He doesn’t really want to go to the office,”

A quiet moment passed.

“No, I don’t think so. Our teacher knows I left class in a hurry but she doesn’t know why. I think-“

A pause.

“But he’s doing good with us, Mister Wayne, I promise. I think that’ll just stress him out,” Asten reasoned. And then he muttered: “Yeah, of course.”

Bentley looked up when Asten came into the closet and held the phone toward him. “He wants to talk to you.”

Bentley sat up a little. “He’s here,” Asten said.

“Hey, there, bud. I heard what happened, I’m on my way to get you right now. Would you like to wait for me in the office, or the nurses?”

“No,” Bentley muttered in response, wiping at his still-crying eyes. “I wanna stay here.”

“Do you want me to message Duke or Damian for you?”

“No,” Bentley repeated.

“Okay… well, your friends probably need to head back to class, so-“

“That won’t be a problem, Mister Wayne,” Asten spoke up, leaning closer to the phone. “Even if he did go to the office, we wouldn’t make him go alone.”

Bentley heard Bruce exhale. “Okay… okay. If you’d like to stay on the phone with me, Bentley, that’s fine. If not, I'll be there in just a few minutes.”

Bentley nodded lightly. His tenseness was starting to ease. “You can hang up, I’m… okay.” He muttered.

“Alright, bud. I’ll be there in just a few minutes, okay?”

Bentley sniffled. “Okay.”

“Bye,”

After a quiet moment, Asten ended the call, and sat down against the wall across from Bentley, right next to the door. He put the phone on the ground and carefully nudged it back across with his foot.

“I’m sorry,” Bentley whispered, wiping at his eyes. “You… don’t have to stay with me.”

Apparently he wasn’t supposed to say that.

“Whoa, Whittaker, are you apologizing for having a panic attack?” Asten questioned, scrunching his face up. “It’s not like it’s something you willingly choose to do. You don’t have to apologize.”

“And you’re not bothering us at all,” Nico added, smiling lightly when Bentley glanced over at him. “Asten’s used to stuff like this. I have asthma attacks a lot. Pretty sure I’ve had one in this exact closet, actually.”

Bentley sucked in a breath. “What’s… asthma?”

Nico blinked. “Well, it’s… it’s like a sickness that makes it really hard for me to breathe sometimes. That’s what I use my inhaler for,” He took the little gray thing out of his pocket and shook it with a quiet rattle, then put it back. “Asten’s actually one of my emergency aids. Which means if I go to the nurse’s office with an asthma attack, she calls him down there to help me.”

Bentley said nothing, but the conversation was helping to distract him and help him feel a little better.

But then, a different voice came. Not Nico’s, not Asten’s. One that was way more intimidating, from in the hallway.

“Looks like someone found the Wayne. Doors open,”

Jesse’s voice was the one floating through the air. It didn’t sound like he was talking to them, he probably couldn’t see inside the closet.

Bentley tensed again when Nico grabbed his wrist. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was scared or because he knew Bentley was probably scared, but he didn’t have time to think about it.

“Probably Damian,” A second voice replied. Bentley glanced over at Asten, and he was scouring the shelves, dragging his eyes across every available tool before they finally rested on a couple stacks of old, worn textbooks.

Nico said nothing, and Bentley stayed equally quiet as Asten stood up slowly. The footsteps were getting closer, and the blue-haired-boy gently brought his hand up and grabbed a textbook off the top of the stack. His hand dipped when he was supporting its full weight — it was thick and heavy looking.

Jesse Todryk stopped in the doorway, spotted Bentley and Nico, and laughed sinisterly.

“Well! Isn’t it little mister-“

Bentley flinched almost violently when Asten — with the same unmatchable storm in his eyes and scowl on his face — swung the textbook like a baseball bat aimed at the sun.

“Vá queimar no inferno, seu filho da puta!”

Bentley flinched, and Nico gasped when the blunt corner of the book’s spine came in contact with Jesse’s head so hard it whammed him into the door, and he ragdolled flat on the tile.

“Jesse!” The short boy screeched, kneeling down next to the bully, who looked completely and totally zoned.

“Oh my God, you’re going to get so suspended!” Nico suddenly exclaimed, gaping up at Asten with wide eyes.

The Brazilian shrugged, letting the textbook thud on the floor. “It was self defense.”

“He wasn’t hurting us!”

“He was gonna!”

Bentley said nothing, but instead, stared at the book that laid between Asten’s feet and where he was sitting.

He didn’t condone violence or anything, but… it was kind of nice to have a friend that would cause a little bit of mayhem on his behalf. Just a little bit.

“We should probably get out of here, though. Time to walk Bentley to the office?”

Nico glanced over at Bentley, and when he nodded, they stood up and left the closet. And they didn’t spare a second to look back at Jesse and his friend, even while the beanie kid cursed them all the way down the hallway.

(Bentley didn’t know what suspended was, but from the way Nico yelled it, he was pretty sure Asten was going to get it.)

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚

—

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daigina-3 · 1 year

Text

Passing Notes (In Secrecy)

Chapter 2: I think he likes you

In 7th grade, Steve Harrington likes a girl for the first time. Outwardly, he likes girls when it’s convenient. When it gets his friends off his back, when it makes him looks cool.

This new girl at Hawkins Middle, though? The one with the curly brown hair and dimples and flannels that are too big for her? Steve doesn’t like her to be cool or whatever; she’s just for Steve.

But then the new girl Steve likes isn’t actually a new girl at all.

When the bus is out of sight, Eddie walks fast. The gravel crunches under his high tops and his messenger bag thumps against his hip uncomfortably but he only walks faster; starts a slow jog past rows of trailers down to where his uncle (and he, now) lives, towards the end. The bag, heavy with textbooks, is banging against his hip hard enough that it might bruise but he doesn’t care.

He counts the rows as he goes, just like he did all summer and since school started. He knows where the turn is, now, knows he won’t get it wrong but the counting is a habit and Eddie feels calmer for it.

One, two, three with the broken flower pot on the corner, four- turn.

They’d let Eddie finish out seventh grade in his old town- placed him with a foster family for the last two months. He’d spent his nights in some rich family’s house in a plain bedroom made for what was probably a never-ending parade of kids just like him: kids whose parents were in jail or dead or somewhere on the streets with a bottle of beer in their hands instead of with their kid.

He spent a miserable two months, walking around the school halls where everyone stared and whispered and sometimes just asked him outright- why’s your dad in jail, did he kill someone?- only to come back to the fancy big house where he was being kept, with an old couple who probably thought he was poor and gross and weird, and locked himself in that beige room with the tan bed sheets and the white walls with generic posters that said shit like be thankful for every day and hang in there.

The day the social worker had dropped Eddie off at his uncle’s trailer was the first day he felt like he could breath in two months.

The trailer is the same today as it was at the start of the summer when he met his Uncle Wayne; a weathered old couch outside, lawn trimmed neatly every other week, and the screen door that creaks too much.

Steve’s note burns in his hand and when he’s finally outside the front door, breathing heavy, he has the sudden image of Uncle Wayne seeing the note and- even if he would never demand to read it- somehow just seeing it feels like Wayne’ll know exactly what it says.

He shoves it in his pocket and throws open the creaky metal screen door. It slams into the outside wall as he rushes inside and Wayne gives a half-hearted “hey, now, easy!” from the lay-z-boy recliner in the corner.

“Sorry, Wayne! Hi, Wayne- bye, Wayne!”

And then he’s alone, in his room, with a hole burning in his pocket.

Eddie tosses his bag down, the pins clinking against each other, and lets himself just fall on the bed, belly-up.

It shouldn’t feel so weird. It was just a mistake. Maybe even a funny one- a dude giving another dude a love note on accident?

It was hilarious. Right?

He takes the note, so carefully folded up, from his pocket. He smooths it out, holding it under his palms, and presses it flat against his stomach like it's going to try to escape.

Eddie stares at the ceiling, where there’s a hairline crack just above his bed. He traces the shape of it with his eyes and feels the crumpled paper under his fingertips- but doesn’t look. Looking feels damning, but he won’t think about why.

Because to be the new kid who’s poor and a little weird and bad at sports who talks too much and draws cool demons in his textbook that people don’t get- that’s one thing.

His stomach twisting at the thought of a boy giving him a love note on the bus.. that’s another thing. A thing you don’t come back from.

He traces the crack again, counts the number of times he follows the line down and back up again. One, two, three…

He thinks about Steve. He seemed nice. Not just nice like ‘oh, he’s nice.’ But nice like his smile was real. Nice like kids usually aren’t to him- he gets fake smiles and nervous smiles and mean, teasing smiles, but he’s only seen a handful of nice smiles at Hawkins.

He thinks they could be friends.

A picture pops into his head, of him and Steve hanging out at school. Just walking down the hallway, chatting. Smiling. Shouldering past crowds of other kids.

But then the other kids turn, looking at them. They stare at Steve and Eddie and make silent eye contact that turns into whispers, like they know something they shouldn’t just by looking. Like they have x-ray vision and can see right into Eddie’s core.

Something twists in his stomach and he just can’t get that picture out of his head: that as soon as someone sees him and Steve, they’ll see something, know something that Eddie doesn’t. Something scary.

He’s nervous on the bus in the morning. Walking past the kids chatting, listening to music, doing last minute homework. Eddie takes his usual seat in the very back, lets out a slow breath when no one even glances his way.

He sees Steve in the hall. Eddie’s on his way to the hall with most of the eighth grade classrooms and Steve the opposite way, towards the seventh grade ones.

Steve’s head is down, eyes trained on some assignment in his hand. And Eddie is just about to look away when Steve glances up, catching Eddie’s eye. He does a double take and smiles when he sees who it is, who Eddie is. It’s a nice smile.

Eddie gives a tiny wave, unclenches his fingers where they’re holding his messenger bag on his shoulder and wiggles them. A short butterfly wave. But it’s enough that Steve’s smile widens just a little, confirmation that he saw Eddie’s wave.

No one turns to point and laugh. No one yells out hey look at that girly freak, no one even notices; half a second and they’re past each other, going their separate ways.

But Steve’s smile stays with Eddie, fluttering around in his stomach.

Maybe everything would be okay.

Everything was not okay.

“Hey, Eddie,” Carol walks by him while he’s picking at his lunch. She stops like something just crossed her mind, leaning on the table with one hand. “I have something to tell you.”

Eddie looks up- Carol’s only spoken to him a handful of times in class and the hall and twice was to ask if he got his flannel shirt from Goodwill like it was funny. The other times weren’t any better. He wonders if it’s easier to run. “Uh, yeah?”

“See that guy over there?” She points to Tommy, a semi-familiar face. He’s definitely close enough to hear them, just at the next table over.

She’s waiting for him to reply, and he gives her a slow and suspicious “.. yes.”

“Well- he thinks you’re *really cute*,” her big eyes blink, her tone feigning innocence in that way- that way that says everything without saying *anything.* “He told me that he wants to ask you out.”

Immediately Tommy throws his head back in laughter, his mouth still half full of meatloaf- the guys on either side of him elbow him and give big roaring *ohhh-hos* and Eddie is frozen.

Carol leans closer, her smile twisted. Eddie doesn’t know what she wants him to say. He doesn’t know what he SHOULD say. He wants to run away, he wants to lash out and push her off the table, watch her fall.

He screws up his face and grumbles “shut up.” That’s all he can muster staring down these other kids with a mean look in their eyes. He wishes he could come up with anything else, something cool that will make Carol stunned and sorry and make her go away- but all he can say is “shut up.”

Carol’s eyebrows go up, the picture of innocence. “What? I’m just trying to help you out- he said he thought you were really hot-“

Tommy yells- half laughter half disgust- something about not being a homo but he’s drowned out by the jeers of the others at his table.

“- but maybe he’s not good enough for you,” Carol continues, like she’s wondering aloud to herself. “Do y’hear that Tommy? You’re not Munson’s type. Maybe he’s into guys like Steve-“

Eddie bristles, his face hot with embarrassment. More people a few tables away are looking, turning in their seats and smirking as Carol and the boys make a big show. They don’t even have to say it for everyone including Eddie to know exactly what they’re really laughing at.

Eddie. Eddie the queer, Eddie the gross kid, Eddie the joke. It’s a joke that anyone would want to ask him out. Of course he must be into guys because he’s wrong, something screams wrong about him to anyone with eyes and not only is it gross but it’s Eddie, so it’s fucking hilarious and gross and a joke.

He doesn’t see Steve but he knows this has to be his fault. He started it, he’s the one who gave Eddie that note. That probably was a joke. Try to catch the little girly kid to say he likes guys, because obviously he’s weird and poor and must be queer with that hair- and Steve told everyone and now-

He’s not going to cry in front of these fucking assholes.

“Go away,” Eddie slams his hands and pushes himself away from the table, standing up. The boys across the way ooooh even more.

“Someone’s mad,” one of them smirks.

“She was just trying to be nice, Munson-“

He leaves his tray, shouldering his backpack and booking it out of the lunchroom. He stomps his way down hall after hall, ends up in the bathroom in the old part of the building, the one he knows no one goes in and some of the eighth graders smoke in after school. He slams the last stall door behind him and drops his bag, kicking it into the corner, hopping onto the toilet.

He doesn’t want to cry. He knows crying means they win, they got to him, but his throat feels tight and his lips quiver just a little and before he knows it his head is in between his legs and his vision is blurry with warm tears.

They drop onto his shoes- the new converse high tops his uncle bought him, a present for starting at a new school in a new town and a new home and a new guardian. And now he’s curled up in the bathroom getting his stupid tears all over them.

He skips Math and English, waiting for the red blotches to clear off his cheeks and picking at peeling paint on the wall.

When Eddie gets home, his uncle’s on the phone with the office. He can hear his quiet ‘mm-hmm’s, and ‘no, I wasn’t aware- well, the kid’s been goin’ through- I’m sure-‘ as Eddie throws his bag on the floor and beelines for the bathroom. He slams the door behind him and twists the lock for good measure- the lock is only the kind that stops the handle from turning, and the door is old so it doesn’t even really do that. But still, Eddie needs to be alone; would barricade himself in the bathroom if he could.

He rummages under the sink, tossing spare toilet paper and cleaner to the ground until he pulls his uncle’s beard clipper out, clutched in his fist like a weapon.

“Your hair’s real pretty,” Steve had smiled at him on the bus just the day before. Eddie thought that smile had been real; that he was nice.

Eddie was fucking stupid.

He flicks the switch and feels the clippers buzz to life in his hand. His reflection stares back at him, brows low, mouth set- angry angry angry, the anger buzzes in him like the clippers in his hand- he tightens his lips into a thin line, keeping the tears at bay.

The first pass is right down the middle of his head. It feels too easy, like it should get tangled in his hair but it doesn’t. It cuts through it easily, almost too easily. He doesn’t know why, but he expected it to hurt. He almost wishes it did.

The hair starts falling all over his shoulders and the floor, and Eddie doesn’t break eye contact with himself the entire time. You should have known, he tells himself silently. This is your fault. And he passes the clippers again, and again, and now his hair is uneven and messy and several different lengths- but it’s not long anymore. It’s not girly hair. And if he’s lucky, maybe no one will recognize him tomorrow. Maybe they’ll all be stunned into silence. Maybe he can just blend into the background and never be seen again- never be the center of the cafeteria’s attention again.

He wants to disappear, wants to slip down the drain just like his hair.

He stays in the bathroom until Wayne bangs on the door like he’s going to break it down. Eddie unlocks it and expects his uncle to yell, to make Eddie clean it up or something.

Wayne sighs when he sees Eddie’s head, the mess of uneven choppy hair. He gestures for Eddie to step out and surveys the damage- hair in the sink, on the counter, the floor, the toilet.

“Get the broom and dust pan, willya?”

He gets it without saying anything and stands there, holding open an empty Walmart bag as Wayne sweeps up the clippings and throws them away.

They’re halfway through when Wayne asks.

“Any particular reason for this? I could have taken you to a barber, ya know.”

He shrugs, his jaw tight. “Dunno. Don’t like my hair. It’s girly.”

Wayne nods.

When they finish, he calls a barber and makes an appointment for tomorrow, Friday at 11AM.

“I have school then,” he mentions when Wayne hangs up.

Wayne only shrugs. “Can’t have you goin’ to school like that. Plus one day of hooky never hurt nobody.”

He could cry. He won’t have to go to school tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after. Three whole days.

He wraps his arms around Wayne’s middle and squeezes tight, a thank you and a sorry.

Eddie Munson walks into Hawkins Middle Monday morning with a fresh buzz cut and a permanent scowl. He slaps away any curious hands that reach out to feel his peach-fuzz scalp and takes no shit. He takes so little shit, in fact, that one passing period he gets himself and Tommy Hagan in trouble with the principal. Eddie gets the harsher punishment, of course, even though it was Tommy who kept trying to pinch the skin at the nape of Eddie’s neck and calling him names; when the principal asks what names Tommy called him, Eddie stays silent. Fuck Tommy and fuck the principal who was never on his side, anyway.

He gets detention- his first detention at Hawkins- and sits next to a girl with long black hair and behind a boy with a cropped afro.

They ask Eddie his name- they’ve seen him around, of course- and the girl shows Eddie her sketch book that she was doodling in during 8th grade geometry class, which is what landed her there. Once is a reprimand, but twenty-six times is grounds for detention, she says. Eddie thinks her doodles are cool and says the teachers just hate fun. He wishes he was in geometry instead of algebra.

The boy explains he skipped 7th grade gym too many times because he didn’t like being in the changing room and the PE teacher gave him detention. Eddie knows the feeling.

They smile. Their smiles are nice.

It takes two detentions before Eddie asks if they know what Dungeons and Dragons is- Amy, the girl, does but she’s never played. Jeff doesn’t know it at all, but he likes the sound of dragons and gnomes. They both agree to come over to Eddie’s trailer and read through a dungeon master book he checked out from the library that week.

Steve stays at the table with Carol and Tommy- but Eddie takes to having lunch on the opposite end with Amy, Jeff, and a few other kids. Sometimes he catches Steve looking- during passing period or at lunch. Eddie never has a smile for him.

They don’t talk again. And that’s just fine.

#steddie fic #st fic #steve harrington #Eddie munson fic #mine #oops finger slipped! today is a day to relive deep rooted emotional trauma that stunts me to this day <33

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