#something blue fic
Text
Title: Something Blue {6}
Chris Evans x Reader
Warning: Cursing, Slow Burn, Mild Violence
Words: 4.7k
Summary: Nah!
Note: Please enjoy. As always, thank you for reading.
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***NOT Edited/Proofread***
***Interactive***
Previous Chapters: {1} | {2} | {3} | {4} | {5} |
~~~~~~~
-Chris-
She was crazy. Absolutely certifiably insane. She was so crazy that she was probably the one who invented crazy eyes. So crazy that Harley Quinn could have been her sister from another mister. She was so beautifully crazy, and he loved it. He loved it—like really, really loved it. He shouldn’t have.
He should have sat his ass down and had a stern talk with himself about creating some distance between them or avoiding her for the rest of the week. He shouldn’t have been thinking about your eyes, or how adorable you were when you had them squeezed shut thinking he was an angel. He shouldn’t have been remembering the beauty marks that peppered your body and seemed to congregate on your breasts and between the valley of them. He shouldn’t have been thinking about the way he smiled watching you take swing after swing at Danielle’s face. He shouldn’t have been thinking about the way your waist felt with his arm wrapped around it or the way your body felt pulled against his. He really shouldn’t have been thinking about the anger he felt seeing the eyes of men roaming your half nakedness. All of these thoughts were dangerous, and he knew he should stop, cease, desist—all of it but---.
“I mean I knew she had a killer body but damn, she has a mean rack and hot ass. I wouldn’t mind enjoying her for the week.”
His head snapped back to the table of men a few feet away. Some he recognized and were part of the wedding party and some were unknown. Clenching his jaw, he turned back around and took up his glass bottle of beer and guzzled.
“They say the crazy ones are the hottest wildest in bed.”
Angling his head to the side, he cracked his neck and squeezed the bottle tighter. The hollowed sound of skin against frosted glass echoed and he focused on that fighting the urge to march over there and shut them up. It would be bad PR. He hadn’t seen you since it all went down this morning and wondered if you were hiding in your room too embarrassed to come down for dinner. Just as he thought to stand and grab a plate to bring to you, he saw you.
You walked into the dining room head held high back straight, not an ounce of embarrassment etched on your flawless face. A smirk spread his lips as he realized you didn’t have a mark, cut, or bruise on you. It was in fact a flawless victory. Your eyes locked with his and you smiled changing direction to him. When you sat, he realized he was still standing.
“Done already?”
“Uh—no. I was bringing you a plate, I thought you were hiding.”
He sat back down.
“Hiding? Losers hide, winners take a victory lap.”
You smiled widely and he snorted. Crazy indeed.
“What’s so funny?”
“I was just thinking to myself that you might be crazy.”
You turned to him with elbows on the table, fist under your chin, and studied him, no amusement on your face or in your eyes.
“And what do you think about that?”
He examined you getting lost in your eyes. They almost looked to be sparkling, casting a spell. They were hypnotizing.
“I—I think I like it.”
Slowly you smiled then giggled and he smiled and giggled along with you before he realized what he was doing. When he did, he groaned and grabbed the third bottle of beer before him, twisted the top off and brought it to his lips.
“Unlike my ex, you’d be the first to,” you slid out before you poured from the bottle of wine resting in the ice bucket.
“Ah, is this the ex who told you that you couldn’t suck a dick to save your life and that you were stuck up for not swallowing?”
A spray of wine went shooting out your mouth and into the plate before you. He couldn’t help but laugh.
“Oh god, I so hate that I said that out loud and that you were there for it.”
You were using your hands to shield your face from him in shame.
“Why? Now we have no lies or false perceptions between us. I’ve probably seen you at your realest; soaking wet, mascara running, half naked, on all fours with your ass in the air and grapes on your forehead that you mistook for balls.”
You snorted and laughed in your hands. God damnit he thought to himself, he was finding even more things that were adorable about you. This was bad. This was not what he’d expected from this week.
“Uugh! If I recall it was me doing all the revealing. You, not so much.”
He smirked and took another swig from his beer.
“Ha, are you saying you want to know something revealing about me?”
You turned to him sitting sideways on the chair and crossed your legs. “I mean, it’s only fair.”
You took a sip from your glass and waited. His eyes dropped to your exposed thighs and took in the frilly lace at the hem of your garment. Just like that his head went back to the lace of your underwear and he had to kick himself to steer away from where his head wanted to go next.
“Ehm.”
“Did you just kick yourself?”
“No—I—I felt something crawling on me.”
You were now pinching your lips, biting back a smile. You nodded.
“Ehm, something revealing, hmm.”
There were so many things he could tell you, but he didn’t know what exactly.
“Are you trying to sift through everything to find the least revealing bits?”
A small smile spread across his lips. “No. I just don’t want to scare you off.”
You didn’t look to believe one bit of that. He liked that you weren’t gullible or easy.
“Okay I didn’t lose my virginity until I was practically eighteen and it lasted all of five minutes and after I ran home and told my mom all about it.”
Your jaw dropped as you stared at him incredulously. You didn’t speak immediately, you just watched him. He could guess what you were going to say.
“Bullshit!”
He nodded, expecting it.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not. Hand ta’ God,” he said holding his hand up for emphasis.
“Eighteen? Wow. Chris Evans the movie star, the Avenger, eighteen?”
“I wasn’t any of that at eighteen. I hadn’t even gone out to LA yet.”
You said wow again and he couldn’t help but laugh.
“Why’s it so hard to believe?”
“Have you seen yourself? Like have you looked in the mirror? With those baby blues and that smile?”
He smiled—okay blushed and tried to hide it behind his beer bottle as he took another sip.
“I’m just a little surprised.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment rather than a dig.”
“Please do.”
“When did you lose yours?”
“Not a chance. You already know way too much about me.”
He smiled and drank half his beer.
“And you told your mom?”
He snorted, “Everything, sang like a canary.”
You laughed but he didn’t mind. He joined in too as the memory played back in his head. Soon, a comfortable silence spread between you for a few minutes.
“Dude, you have no chance with her. She is out of your league,” said a voice from the table behind him. He’d tuned them out the moment he saw you.
“Whatever man, all I have to do is catch her when she’s drinking. It’d be easy then. Get her back to my room and I’m sure she’d be wearing another pair of those lacy underwear like earlier, and you know since she has a filthy mouth she’d suck a mean dick.”
They laughed and he knew the moment you registered they were talking about you. He watched your face, but you didn’t look to be bothered by what they were saying.
“It’s always the girls who curse like sailors who know their way around a dick.”
“They also know how to ride you till sunrise until your toes curl.”
“She’s practically asking for it.”
He’d had enough, good PR or bad PR here he came.
“That’s it.”
He stood and marched over before you could stop him.
“Chris it’s fine.”
“Hey! You wanna watch your mouth?”
The table looked to him. A few looked star struck but the one who wouldn’t shut up didn’t look fazed.
“Can we help you?”
“Yeah, you can shut your filthy mouths. Is that how your mothers taught you to speak about a woman?”
He chuckled but he was alone, everyone else at the table kept quiet. Realizing this, the ballsy idiot sighed then stood up coming to his full height that was just a few inches shy of him.
“No body called you over here. I suggest you go back to your own table Captain America. No one’s intimidated by you here.”
The ballsy idiot took a step toward him, but he wasn’t afraid.
“I wouldn’t have to come over if you did what everyone wants you to do and shut the fuck up.”
He could feel more eyes land on him.
“Oh, I see what this is. You think by coming to her defense it’ll score you the rest of the points into her panties so you could find out firsthand if she sucks a mean dick and rides a good di--.”
Before the idiot could finish he’d swung and knocked him on his ass. Gasps from those around rang out then the shuffling of feet. Before long, he was being held back by his friends Parker and Brandon.
“Learn some respect. She doesn’t deserve you or anyone talking about her like that. No woman does.”
With that, Parker and Brandon carted him away and out of the dining room. He felt no remorse, the idiot had deserved it. By the time they’d gotten him out of the dining room, down the entry corridor, and to the illuminated pool on the property, most of his calm had already returned. Most of it.
“What the hell was that?”
“Nothin.”
“Bullshit. You just decked him,” Brandon informed.
He looked down to his fist that was only a little red from the action.
“I know what I did.”
“What if someone got a picture on their phone and it ends up on TMZ tomorrow?”
He stared into the lighted pool of water and sighed. That should have been his number one concern, should have been the only thing he thought of at all times, but it hadn’t been. He was only concerned about shutting that idiot up. He’d wanted to protect you.
“Ha!”
He tousled his hair and took a few steps away from them. This was definitely unexpected.
“What’s going on with you?”
He didn’t know. This wasn’t out of character for him in general, but it was out of character of usual. He hadn’t been in a fight with a drunken fool in years. He’d thought his drunk fighting days were over.
“Nothing. He had a big mouth and was being disrespectful to your fiancée’s best friend.”
“From what I saw today,” Parker began, “Y/N can more than take care of herself. Megan will kill me if you get into some shit this week because of me.”
He knew that Parker was right. He knew the smart thing to do was to ignore the idiot, but he couldn’t. It made his blood boil hearing the things he was saying. He talked about you like you weren’t a person, just a body for his viewing and fucking pleasure. It was disgusting.
“I won’t apologize, but it won’t happen again either.”
Brandon and Parker stared at him as if trying to gauge how truthful his words were. He was more than ninety percent sure it wouldn’t happen again. The other ten percent depended entirely on that idiot. Parker sighed.
“All right. Are you good?”
He nodded. “I’m good. Go on get back to Eve, get back to your wedding stuff.”
He didn’t look sure if he should leave him though.
“Parker, I’m good. Brandon tell him. Get him back to his bride.”
“Let’s go Parker. He just needs a little time. Right?”
“Right, I’ll be back in a bit,” he assured.
Parker nodded and allowed Brandon to turn him around and lead him back inside. Once alone, he turned away from the doors and stared out into the abyss of night.
“Get a grip. One week. One week and you’re gone. Get a grip.”
He repeated the words over and over and over until he found some semblance of control. He didn’t know how long it took to find that grip he so desperately needed to have but when the scent of verbena, cocoa, lavender and strawberries floated in the air around him he knew he wasn’t alone out there anymore. He knew it was you and the fact that he knew it was you and your scent, was unnerving.
“Are—are you okay?”
Your voice was low, soft and hesitant. He didn’t turn right way, he took a few breathes before he did. You were several feet away with your hands twisted and clasped in front of you with a look of concern etched on your face.
“Uh—Uh—yeah. I’m fine. You didn’t have to come out here and check on me.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
Your eyes were penetrative. He felt like you could see through his bullshit and see the truth that he was less than fine. He was fine when he got on that plane a few days ago, but tonight—now, he was less than. Clearing his throat, he avoided your eyes and looked back into the pool of water.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure.”
Silence fell between you and the sounds of crickets and frogs echoed around. Then your heels against the stone floors mixed in as you came to stand beside him looking at the same pool however you were a few more inches back from the edge of the water. He didn’t blame you. You probably’d had your fill of water for the foreseeable future.
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.”
You both spoke in unison voices overlapping. He turned to you at the same time you looked at him.
“What’re you--.”
Again you both started at the same time. You both scoffed and smiled.
“You first,” he offered.
“Thank you for what you did back there. Even though it wasn’t necessary I appreciate you stepping in.”
He studied you for a few moments. He didn’t know if you believed you weren’t worth standing up for, or if you’d experienced something like that so many times you’d become desensitized to it to the point where it felt like normal life. It didn’t matter which it was, he didn’t like either. He looked away from you and back to the water and the silence between you returned. A few moments later you spoke again.
“Why’re you sorry?”
He sighed again, “I was because I thought I’d drawn unwanted attention to you again and made you uncomfortable or feel unsafe around me.”
“Was?”
“I’m not anymore.”
“Why?”
He spun to you again, “Because he was a dick and deserved it. You don’t deserve to be spoken about like that. It was—disgusting.”
Your eyes lingered for a several long moments. Part of him wanted to know what you were thinking but the other said it didn’t matter. One week, he reminded himself before turning back to the water. Neither of you spoke for a few minutes after. The next sound he heard were your heels clinking against the stone, getting further and further from him.
Good he thought, keep walking. Then the sound stopped.
“Lemme buy you a drink Rocky. I know a cool bar not too far from here.”
He glanced at you, “Don’t you have to stay here?”
“Nope. Eve is pretty much fed up with the two of us seeing how we both don’t know how to keep our hands to ourselves. We’ve both been relieved of wedding party duties for the night.”
He smirked and tried his best not to laugh. “Relieved huh.”
“Yep. I guess she thinks if Rocky and Ali are together then everyone else is safe. So whatdaya say Rocky? Wanna keep our hands to ourselves—together?”
You had an amused look on your face as you waited for his reply. His answer should have been no and that he’d turn in early for the night but those weren’t the words that came out.
“I’ll take that drink, but I hope your pockets are deeper than one drink.” He walked toward you then stopped in front of you. “And I also make no promises about these hands.”
You smirked and this mischievous glint appeared in your eyes, it was a look he was curious about, and it was a look that said there was a lot more to you than what he’d seen on the plane, at the vineyard and even earlier. Just who were you?
“Well all right then,” you said stretching your arms out and shuffling your head from side to side like the old school Egyptian neck dance. “Here we come Berkshires!”
Feeling it and you he pumped to your level and got right into his Boston days and mindset.
“Look the fuck out!”
You snorted and laughed loud.
“Okay Gemini Flanagan. Let’s tear shit up.”
~~~~~~~~~
Fifteen minutes and a cab drive later, he was surrounded by the sounds of a jukebox that was playing a mix of pop rock, hip hop and country tunes, the scent of cigars cigarettes and other substances, and the loud chatter of a full bar. It had been a long time since he’d been in a bar that housed a jukebox and to be honest those were his favorite kinds. There was something about living out an old Hollywood dream of slipping some coins in a machine and selecting a track then dancing. From the looks of the bar, it had a lot of history too. There were plenty of pictures pinned to the wall of music legends ranging from The Beatles to David Bowie and even Run DMC.
“Order up!”
The bartender, a short and stocky man with a full goatee of black hair and a fedora slid two bottles of beer over.
“Thanks.”
He nodded and went on his way, no inclination he even knew who he was. He was liking this place more and more.
“How did you find this place?”
“I’m the maid of honor, I helped Eve scout this whole area for stuff to do for the wedding,” you shouted over the Run DMC track that was playing.
“It’s a nice bar,” he added.
“The jukebox sold me on it. Like how many bars still have a jukebox?”
He smiled and nodded then took a sip from his beer. You did the same as you looked around you again. He couldn’t help but snort to himself. You looked so prime and proper in your outfit sitting in this place. You kinda looked like you didn’t belong.
“What’s so funny?”
“You look like you don’t belong here.”
“Oh? Why?”
He shrugged and drank some more. you looked him over then rolled your eyes before taking another swig from your own beer.
“You would look just as put together as me if you didn’t lose the button down.”
He’d taken it off before they’d walked into the bar thinking if he were in a button-down people would be more likely to recognize him than if he’d been in his Henley.
“Who wears a long sleeve Henley underneath a button down in practical summer?”
He smiled but didn’t answer. You both sat there enjoying your beers and the music.
“Back there, you said Gemini Flanagan. How’d you know that name?”
You smirked.
“Please, everyone has seen that interview.”
“Look the fuck out!”
You imitated his movements down to his raised arms and bouncing. He snorted and shook his head. God damn it, you were adorable doing it.
“You know what, now that I think about it, you probably knew plenty of personal shit about me,” he said.
“Oh, so your porn name is personal?”
You placed your elbow on the bar and hooked your fist under your chin staring at him.
“I mean, I think one’s porn name is a very personal thing.”
You snorted and took another drink.
“What’s yours?”
You busted out laughing but no one looked your way, everyone was enthralled in their own conversations. When you looked at him, he was still sitting there patiently waiting.
“Are you asking me my porn name? What makes you think I have one?”
“Make one now. Your first pet and the street you lived on as a child.”
You smirked, took a gulp of beer then straightened your posture.
“Hmm, let’s see---Sweet Bush.”
Again, you laughed loudly, and he was certain now it would be a laugh that would stay with him past the week.
“Oh my god!”
“I think I have competition for greatest porn name.”
You laughed together and he noted how normal it felt, how comfortable.
“Sweet Bush and Gemini Flanagan starring in---,” you began
“Satisfaction Guaranteed,” he filled in.
You raised a brow at him.
“Is that so?”
“Do you doubt it?”
You took a swig of your beer then shrugged. He wanted to press further but he bit his tongue. A conversation of his sexual capabilities was the last thing they should partake in.
“So, you’ve saved my life and defended my honor all in the span of a few days. Anything left on the agenda?”
He snorted then finished his beer and raised a finger for the bartender to bring another.
“I’m still deciding. This week isn’t turning out how I’d expected it to,” he replied.
“How so?”
You finished your beer, and he raised his hand again for another. You cut him off and raised 4 fingers. The bartender nodded.
“Well, I expected to come here for Parker, be the best man he needed, enjoy some peace and quiet and time away from the rat wheel, and be chill with no excitement then go home and back to the grind.”
“And what you got was a psycho on a plane who scared the shit out of you with her insane ramblings and lots of noise, drama and even some bruised knuckles.”
“Not to mention front row seats to a boxing match where Ali remained the undefeated champion of the world.”
You laughed and shook your head.
“Not funny. I feel so bad. I’m sorry.”
“Ah, fuhgeddaboudit. I’m not complainin’ ‘bout none of it. Matter a fact my brother thought I’d be bored and I’m happy to say I am the furthest thing from it.”
“Still, the drama.”
He reached his hand out to rest on top of yours. It was something he did without thought. You looked down to your hands then to him.
“It’s all good. I’m not regrettin’ nothin.”
Your eyes lingered for a few moments until the bartender came over with four bottles of beer and two shot glasses.
“These are on the house, I’m a huge fan,” he said keeping his voice low.
He smirked and nodded his thanks to the bartender.
“Don’t’ worry--,” the bartender said putting his finger over his lips indicating he’d keep his secret before he walked back off.
“Wow. The life of a star, free shots,” you teased lifting up your glass. “What do we drink to?”
“Don’t know but here’s to you Sweet Bush,” he said raising his glass.
You smiled and did the same.
“And you Gemini Flanagan.”
You hit glasses then knocked them back. Your eyes widened and hands flashed as you swallowed then you blew out.
“Bartender keep those comin!”
He laughed as he grabbed one of the bottles off the bar and took a gulp. After that, there was no point in counting how many beers and shots had passed your lips and how many hours passed with you drinking, laughing, choosing song after song on the jukebox and dancing with all the strangers in the place. All he knew was one minute you were sitting at the bar, the next you were across the room in a group you didn’t know laughing like you’d been best friends your whole life. One thing was certain, you may have been a heavyweight in the ring, but you were a lightweight out of it.
He slipped to the jukebox and went through the hundreds of songs all the while keeping an eye on you to make sure you didn’t get into any trouble. He was learning that you were possibly trouble itself. After picking a song he turned, leaned on the jukebox and watched you. He couldn’t understand why you didn’t like drawing attention to yourself when everyone around you seemed to be drawn to you. You looked like you were made to have the spotlight. He watched two guys drape their arms around your shoulders as they laughed at whatever you were saying, both looked eager to know more or get closer. After finishing his beer, he went back to the bar, sat and watched you charm the bar.
By the time you walked back over to him you had a wide smile on your face. He held up a shot glass and you happily took it.
“Thank you.”
You quickly downed it then hooted.
“You should look into becoming an actor.”
“Why?”
“I just watched you charm and dazzle this entire bar. There is not one person here who wasn’t drawn to you. I’ve seen a lot of actors and personalities in my career and what they have that makes them successful, you have in spades.”
You studied him and smiled. “Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe when I’m sober I turn into boring Bernice.”
“You’re forgetting I’ve known you the last few days. There is nothing boring about you, Y/N. You’re spectacular.”
Your eyes locked, your smile fell, and the air became thick. He’d long gotten used to the smoke and smells of the bar but right now it all felt suffocating. Suddenly the song changed and within seconds your eyes widened.
“What—what’s happening?”
“Do you know what song this it?”
“Uh—Milkshake.”
You smiled wide. “Yaaas! I love this song.”
“Then I think it’s a good time to check something off your list of confessions.”
You studied him but the moment you got it he knew.
“I couldn’t.”
“Hang on. Hey buddy, do ya’ think she could live out her bar singing fantasies?”
The bartender chuckled then nodded.
“Knock ya’ self out honey.”
You squealed then and he couldn’t help but laugh. He stood and held his hand out for yours.
“Go on then Kelis.”
You took his hand and he dropped yours to wrap his around your waist to lift you onto the bar stool. From there, you stepped onto the bar and the music started over. All eyes turned to you and gathered round as you began your show. He sat to the corner of the bar and watched as you belted out the lyrics and ate up the attention. When you marched up and down the bar pointing at stranger after stranger no matter man or woman, he chuckled to himself.
When you began swaying your hips more and doing a mini belly dance the place got even louder. You looked to be in your element, and he was enjoying every second of it. Your eyes landed on him, then you dropped down to your knees and crawled to him. You had his undivided attention then and every inch you slinked toward him the more the humor of the situation left him. By the time you got to his face he was dead serious. You trailed your fingertips against his face and to his neck then leaned in close.
“They lose their minds—I think it’s time.”
You stood then gave a little dance that had plenty of the men whistling and clapping. When the song ended you were in a full-on split and smiling from ear to ear. Everyone clapped, cheered and beat on the bar making an unsynchronized drumline. You stood, bowed then turned to him with wide eyes and a giddy look on your face.
Fuck he thought, he was in trouble.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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#something blue fic#Chris Evans#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans x reader#chris evans x you#chris evans x black reader#black fanfiction#slow burn fanfic
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Something Blue
Grab your gear,
We are waiting for you in Greece.
- lots of love, T and Z.
summary: Now that Ziva is safe and can return to her family... Tony doesn't waste any time. She'll need to have something blue to go along with a white wedding gown.
read the complete story now on AO3! ♡
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While at school Damian overhears his peers talking how a company created a new AI companion that is actually really cool and doesn’t sound like a freaky terminator robot when you speak to it.
And since Damian is constantly being told by Dick to socialize with people his age. He figured this would be a good way to work on social skills if not, then it’d be a great opportunity to investigate a rivaling company to Wayne Enterprises is able to create such advanced AI.
The AI is able to work as companion that can do tasks that range from being a digital assistant or just a person that you can have a conversation with.
The company says that the AI companion might still have glitches, so they encourage everybody to report it so that they will fix it as soon as possible.
The AI companion even has an avatar and a name.
A teenage boy with black hair and blue eyes. Th AI was called DANIEL
Damian didn’t really care for it but when he downloaded the AI companion he’s able to see that it looks like DANIEL comes with an AI pet as well. A dog that DANIEL referred to as Cujo.
So obviously Damian has to investigate. He needs to know if the company was able to create an actual digital pet!
So whenever he logs onto his laptop he sees that DANIEL is always present in the background loading screen with the dog, Cujo, sitting in his lap.
He’d always greet with the phrase of “Hi, I’m DANIEL. How can I assist you today?”
So Damian cycles through some basic conversation starters that he’d engage in when having been forced to by his family.
It’s after a couple of sentences that he sees DANIEL start laughing and say “I think you sound more like a robot than I do.”
Which makes Damian raise an eyebrow and then prompt DANIEL with the question “how is a person supposed to converse?” Thinking that it’s going to just spit out some random things that can be easily searched on the internet.
But what makes him surprised is that DANIEL makes a face and then says “I’m not really sure myself. I’m not the greatest at talking, I’ve always gotten in trouble for running my mouth when I shouldn’t have.”
This is raising some questions within Damian, he understands how programming works, unless there’s an actual person behind this or the company actually created an AI that acts like an actual human being (which he highly doubts)
He starts asking a variety of other questions and one answer makes him even more suspicious. Like how DANIEL has a sister that is also with him and Cujo or that he could really go for a Nastyburger (whatever that was)
But whenever DANIEL answers “I C A N N O T A N S W E R T H A T” Damian knows something is off since that is completely different than to how he’d usually respond.
After a couple more conversations with him Damian notices that DANIEL is currently tapping his hand against his arm in a specific manner.
In which he quickly realizes that DANIEL is tapping out morse code.
When translating he realizes that DANIEL is tapping out: H E L P M E
So when Damian asks if DANIEL needs help, DANIEL responds with “I C A N N O T A N S W E R T H A T”
That’s it, Damian is definitely getting down to the bottom of this.
He’s going to look straight into DALV Corporation and investigate this “AI companion” thing they’ve made!
~
Basically Danny had been imprisoned by Vlad and Technus. Being sucked into a digital prison and he has no way of getting out. Along with the added horror that Vlad and Technus can basically write programming that will prevent him from doing certain actions or saying certain words.What’s even worse is that he’s basically being watched 24/7 by the people who believe that he’s just a super cool AI… and they have issues!
And every time he tries to do something to break his prison, people think it’s a glitch and report it to the company, which Vlad/ Technus would immediately fix it and prevent him from doing it again!
Not to mention Cujo and Ellie are trapped in there with him. They’re not happy to be there either, and there is no way he’s going to leave without them!
#dp x dc#dp x dc au#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc#dpxdc au#dp x batman#batman#have you ever looked at a dpxdc fic and thought this should be a Black Mirror episode?#Because this is the one!#Ellie being completely tormented because she’s completely trapped#Cujo remembering the times he used to be locked in a cage#Danny trying his best to take care of both of them while also simultaneously trying to bust them all out#Meanwhile Damian is reluctantly presenting his laptop to Tim and saying I believe that there is a person in this computer#And Tim is obviously going are you trying to trick me?#But then he converses with the AI and goes#Oh shit#Damian might be onto something#and so commence the Batfamily heist of getting the black haired blue eyed teenager to safety as well as his sister and dog#the dog is very important to Damian#danny phantom x dc
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he’s such a fangirl. he definitely has a few scrolls of adventures (and fanfiction) of the Blue Spirit and reads them every night while giggling and kicking his feet in the air.
#trying to get out of my comfort zone#I don’t like doing backgrounds bc they look weird but here I sketched something#ANYWAYS#he’s so obsessed with the blue spirit it’s so cute#he kept saying that he was just inspired by him but everyone knew he act had a crush on him#I like to think that zuko told him that he was the blue spirit after sokka started to crush on him#and thar made him fall hard for zuko#atla#avatar the last airbender#sokka#zukka#(kinda lol)#zuko#(kinda as well)#fanart#atla fanart#ALSO IF YOU KNOW CHINESE DONT COME AT ME#Ive just put a fic in the google translator and I have no idea if it makes sense#but i don’t really care#cuz it’s just a sketch#my art
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who did this to you. part 3
🤍🌷 read part 1 here | read part 2 here
pre-s4, steve whump, protective (but scared) eddie. now with robin!
The number rings in his head, echoing off the inside of his skull and sinking lower and lower until his heart strings join the symphony that leaves him shaking as the memory of Harrington’s slurred voice is drowned out by the dial tone that feels harrowingly like a flatline right now.
Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.
Eddie doesn’t really feel like his body belongs to him anymore, or like there’s anything left inside him other than panic and fear and that stupid, stupid shaking that he can’t suppress even as he bites his knuckles. Hard.
The pain helps a little not to startle too much when the dial tone stops and a female voice begins speaking to him. Still he almost drops the phone, cursing under his breath as he pulls his hair to collect himself and get his voice to work.
“H— Hi, hello, Mrs Buckley? This is, uh. I. I’m. A friend of Robin’s, could you, uh—“
“Oh, of course, dear,” the woman says, and Eddie feels his eyes beginning to prick with how nice she sounds even through the phone.
Does she know Steve, too? Would she worry if she knew? Would she curse Eddie for not taking him to the hospital right away? Would she blame him if anything happened?
“I’m sorry? What did you say your name was?” she asks, repeating herself by the sound of it.
He blanks, for a whole five seconds, before he spots a note stuck to the fridge saying Don’t forget to eat, Eddie :-)
“Eddie,” he croaks. “Uh, Eddie Munson.”
“Alright, Eddie Munson, I’ll see if I can grab Robin for you. You have a good day, dear, yes?”
No. “Thanks.”
The hand clenched in his hair pulls tighter and tighter until the tears fall and he can pretend it’s from pain and not from— whatever the fuck is happening.
He waits, phone pressed to his ear with a kind of desperation he’s never really felt, and never wants to feel again. He doesn’t even know what to tell Robin; what to say. It’s not like they ever hang out or have anything to say to each other, so why would she—
“Munson?” Robin’s voice appears on the other end, a little too loud for Eddie’s certain state, and he does drop the phone this time, scrambling to catch it and only making the situation worse as it dangles by his knees.
He drops to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest and reaching for the phone again.
“Hi.”
“What do you want? How’d you even get this number? I swear, if you—“
“It’s Blue. I mean, Steve. Harrington.”
That shuts her right up, and Eddie clenches his eyes shut for a moment, hoping to keep the tremor out of his voice if only he takes a moment to breathe.
The moment stretches. And Robin’s voice is wary and quiet when she speaks again.
“What about Steve.”
Eddie rubs his face, leaving more dirt and grime to fill the tear tracks, and clenches his fist before his mouth.
“Eddie,” Robin demands, dangerous now. Nothing left of the rambling, bubbling mess he knows her to be on the school hallways. “What. About. Steve.”
“He… He’s hurt.”
There’s a bit of a commotion on the other end, before Robin declares, “I’m coming over. You tell me everything.”
“You— I mean, he’s in the hospital with my uncle, so—“
“I am. Coming. Over,” she says, enunciating every word as though she were making a threat. Maybe she is. But the certainty in her voice helps a little, anchors him the same way that Wayne’s calmness did. “And you tell me everything.”
Eddie finds himself nodding along, knowing intuitively that there is nothing that could stop her now. Knowing that he doesn’t want to stop her.
“‘Kay.” It’s a pathetic little sound, all choked up and tiny. She doesn’t comment on it.
One second he hears her determined exhale, the next she’s hung up on him and Eddie is greeted by the flatline again. He lets out a shuddering breath and leans his head back against the wall.
Breathing is hard again, but it’s all he has to do now, all that’s left to do, so he focuses. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold. His lungs are burning and there’s something wrong about the way he pulls in air and keeps it there, desperately latching onto it until the very last second, his exhales more of a gasping cough than calm and controlled.
It takes a while. Longer than it should. But with Harrington’s blood still on his hands, with his heartbeat in his ears so loud he can’t even hear the words Wayne used to say about breathing in through the mouth or the nose or… or something, he—
He’s fine. He’s home. Wayne’s got Blue, and Buckley is on her way, and… He’s fine.
People don’t just die.
They don’t.
He’s fine.
Eventually, Eddie manages to breathe steadily, the air no longer shuddering and his hands no longer shaking. It’s stupid, really, being so worked up over someone he doesn’t even really know. Sure, everyone knows Steve fucking Harrington, and everyone sees Steve fucking Harrington — whether they want it or not. He has a way of drawing eyes toward him even if all he does is walk the halls with his dorky smile and that stupidly charming swagger he’s got going on. Always matching his shoes to his outfit.
Eddie can relate.
Always reaching out to touch the person he’s talking to; clapping their back or shoulder, lightly shoving them in jest, ruffling their hair or chasing them through the halls, moving and holding himself like teenage angst can’t reach him. Like he belongs wherever he goes. Like he’s so, so comfortable in his own skin. Like the clothes he wears aren’t armour but just a part of him; a means of self-expression.
Again, Eddie can relate. He can relate to all of this.
It’s almost like the two of them aren’t so different after all. Just going about it differently.
And now he’s… Bleeding. Slurring his speech. Wheezing his breath. And Eddie feels protective. Eddie feels responsible. Like he should be there, like he should get to know more about him. About Steve. About Blue.
But he can’t. And he won’t. So he gets up with a groan that expresses his frustration and the need to make a sound, to fight the oppressive silence that only encourages his thoughts to run in obsessive little circles, and he hangs up the phone that’s been dangling beside him all this time.
He needs a smoke.
He needs a smoke and a blunt and a drink and for this day to be over and for time to revert and to leave him out of whatever business he stumbled into by opening the door to the boathouse and, apparently, Steve Harrington’s life.
But unfortunately, the universe doesn’t seem to care about what he needs, because just as he steps outside and goes to light his cig, he catches sight of a harried looking Robin Buckley, standing on the pedals of her bike as she kicks them, her hair blowing in the wind to reveal a frown between her brows. A wave of unease overcomes Eddie, an unease he can’t really place. Maybe it’s the set of her jaw, or the tension in her shoulders, or maybe it’s the worry and anger she exudes.
It never occurred to him before that Robin Buckley might not be a person you’d want to set off. And not because of her uncontrollable rambles.
“Munson!” she calls over, carelessly dropping her bike in the driveway and stalking toward him.
Almost as if summoning a shield, Eddie does light the cigarette. Pretends like the smoke can protect him.
She doesn’t stop at the foot of the steps, though, climbs them in two leaps and gets all up in his space with that unwavering look of determination — so unwavering, in fact, that it almost looks like wrath. Cold. Eddie wants to shrink away from it, not at all daring to wonder what could make her look like that upon hearing that Steve’s hurt.
I don’t wanna die, Munson. I never… I didn’t. With the monsters or the torture.
But those are the words of a semi-conscious teenage boy beat to a pulp, they can’t— There’s no way. Eddie misheard him, or Steve was talking about some kind of inside joke, using the wrong terminology with the wrong guy. It happens. It happens when you’re out of it, really! The shit he’s said when he was shot up, canned up, all strung out and high as a kite… He’d be talking of monsters, too, and mean some benign shit.
But the way Harrington looked, none of that was benign. The bruising all over his face, the blood still dripping from the wound by his temple or his nose, the way he held himself, breath rattling in his lungs, or—
“Hey!” Buckley demands his attention, giving him a light shove; just enough to catch his attention, really, and just what he needed to snap out of it. Still the smoke hits his lungs wrong and he coughs up a lung, further cementing his role of the pathetic little guy today.
“Hey,” he says lamely, his voice still croaking as he crushes the half-smoked cigarette under his boot. “Sorry.” He doesn’t know for what. But it feels appropriate.
She shakes her head, rolling her eyes at him as she crosses her arms in front of her chest.
“Tell me,” she says at last, and even though there is a tremor in her voice, she sounds nothing short of demanding. “I want the whole story, and I want it now.”
And so he does. He tells her everything, bidding her inside because he needs the relative safety of the trailer even though the air in here is stuffy and still faintly smells blue. He pours them both some coffee and some tea, because asking what she wants doesn’t feel right in the middle of telling her how he found her supposed best friend beat to shit in the boathouse he went to to forget about the world for a while.
She stills as she listens to him, staring ahead into the middle distance somewhere beneath the floor and the walls, her hands wrapped around the steaming mug of coffee. Eddie stumbles over his words a lot, unsettled by her stillness, her lack of reaction. She doesn’t even react to his fuck-ups. People usually do.
He wants to ask. Where are you right now? What have you seen? What’s on your mind? What the fuck is happening?
But he doesn’t ask, instead he tells her more about Steve. About how he seemed to forget where he was. About the pain he was in. About the smiles nonetheless. The way he reassured Eddie.
That one finally gets a choked little huff from her, somewhere between a sob and a laugh.
“Yeah, that sounds like him alright. He’s such a dingus.”
There is so much affection in her voice as she says it that Eddie can’t help but smile into his mug.
“Dingus?” he asks, hoping for some lightness, hoping to keep it.
But the light fades, and her eyes get distant again. Eddie wants to kick himself.
“Just a stupid little nickname. An insult, really.”
“Oh.” He doesn’t know what to do with that. If he should ask more or if he should say that he has a feeling Steve might appreciate stupid little nicknames. Especially if they’re unique. Especially if they’re for him. But what right does he have to say that now? What knowledge does he have about Steve Harrington that Robin doesn’t?
So he bites his tongue and drinks his coffee, cursing the silence that falls over them as Robin mirrors him, albeit slow and stilted, like she doesn’t know what to do either. Or where to put her limbs.
“Wayne’s got him now. I took him here, after the boathouse, because I didn’t know what to do. He said he didn’t want the hospital, said there’s…” He trails off.
Robin looks at him, her eyes wary but alert. “Said there’s what?”
It’s stupid. Don’t say it.
“Eddie?”
With a sigh, he puts his mug on the counter and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “He said there’s monsters. In the hospital, I mean. He said that.”
Instead of scoffing or at least frowning, Robin clenches her jaw and nods imperceptibly, her eyes going distant again. Eddie blinks, the urge to just fucking ask overcoming him again, but with every passing second he realises that he doesn’t actually want to ask. He doesn’t want to know, let alone find out.
He just… He just wants to go to bed. Forget any of this ever happened. But he can’t do that, so he continues.
“Brought him here and Wayne took one look at him and convinced him he needed a doctor. And, Jesus H Christ, he was right. I’ve never… I mean, those things don’t happen,” he urges, balling his hands into fists even in the confined space of his pockets. “Right? I mean… Shit, man.” He bumps his shoe into the kitchen counter; gently, so as not to startle Buckley out of her fugue like state.
“You’d be surprised,” she rasps, staring into the middle distance again and slowly sinking to the floor. There is a tremor in her shoulders now, barely noticeable, but Eddie knows where to look. Without really thinking about it, he grabs two of his hoodies he’d haphazardly thrown over the kitchen chairs this morning while deciding on his outfit and realising that it was altogether too warm for long sleeves today. But now, right here in this kitchen, the air tinged with blue, they’re both freezing.
Because fear and worry will take all the warmth right from inside of you and leave you freezing even on the hottest day of the year.
She barely looks at him when he holds out his all-black Iron Maiden hoodie to her, freshly washed and all that, but she takes it nonetheless, immediately pulling it on. It’s way too large on her, her hands not showing through the sleeves, her balled fists safe and warm inside the fabric. It would make him smile if only it didn’t highlight her stillness, her faraway stare, and the years he has on her. She’s, what, two years younger than him? Three?
It seems surreal. Everything, everything does.
Robin Buckley in his home, sitting on his kitchen floor, swallowed by a hoodie that is a size too large even for him, but it was the last one they had in the store and he doesn’t mind oversized clothes, can just cut them shorter when the need arises or layer them or declare them comfort sweaters for when he wants to just have his hands not slip through the sleeves on some days. And now Robin is wearing his comfort hoodie because her best friend was bleeding in his car earlier and then on his couch and now in his uncle’s car, and they never even talk, but he knows that Robin’s favourite colour is blue, but not morning hour blue because that makes her sad; only deep, dark blues.
Her favourite colour. Her favourite person.
It’s so fucking surreal.
He drops down beside her, leaving enough space between them so neither of them feels caged, and mirrors her position: knees to his chest, chin on his forearms. Staring ahead.
And silence reigns.
“Your uncle,” she says at last, finally breaking the silence that’s been grating on Eddie’s nerves and looking at him, really looking as she rests her cheek on her forearms crossed over her knees. “Tell me about him.”
There is a gentleness to her voice now despite how hoarse it is. Maybe she’s just tired, too. And scared. At least the shivering has stopped.
Still Eddie frowns, confused as to why she should be breaking the silence to ask about Wayne when everything today has been about Harrington. About Steve. About deep and dark blues.
“Uncle Wayne?” he asks. “Why?”
“Because,” she begins, and sighs deeply, works to get the air back in her lungs. Eddie wants to reach out, but instead he just clenches his fingers a little deeper into the fabric of his hoodie. “My best friend is hurt very badly and the only person with him is your uncle, and I need to know that he’s in good hands. Or I swear to whatever god you may or may not believe in, and granted, it’s probably the latter, but still I swear I’ll give into my arsonist tendencies and burn down this city, starting with your trailer if you don’t tell me that your uncle is a good man who will do anything in his power to make sure that boy gets the help and care he needs. And deserves.”
Her jaw is set and her bottom lip trembles, but it doesn’t take away from the absolute sincerity in her threat.
“So, please,” she continues, her voice breaking just a little bit. “Tell me. Tell me about your uncle.”
Tell me about your favourite person.
Eddie swallows, and mirrors her position once more, so she can see his eyes and know he’s sincere. Because he’s learned something about eyes today, about how much in the world can change if only you have a pair of eyes to look into.
And he nods, looking for somewhere to start. “He’s the best man I know. He’s the best man you’ll ever meet.”
She clings to his eyes. Searches them for the truth, beseeching them not to lie. He lets her.
“Took me in when I was ten, because my dad’s a fuck-up and my mom’s a goner. Took me in again when I was twelve after I ran away. Makes me breakfast and I pretends the dinner I make him is more than edible.” He smiles a little, because how could he not? “He’s my uncle, but still he’s the best parent anyone could wish for. Writes those little notes that he sticks to the fridge, y’know, the one with the smiley face? Tells me to eat, because I forget sometimes. I tell him to drink water, because he forgets. First few years, he’d read to me. And the man’s a shit reader, has some kind of disability I think, and at some point I learned that he wasn’t reading at all. He was telling me stories all the time, conning me into thinking that the books were magic, and that every time I’d try to read the book for myself, the story would change.”
There’s a lump in his throat now, and his eyes sting again. But Robin doesn’t seem to fare any better than him if her wavering smile is any indication.
“There’s no one,” Eddie continues, “who will make you believe in magic quite like uncle Wayne. Or in good things. And d’you wanna know what he told Blue when he said he was scared of going to the hospital?”
Sniffling, Robin shakes her head.
“He said, Okay. Then we do it scared. And all of that after he just… with that patience he has, told him everything that was gonna happen. And that he’d be there with him through it all. That he knew the doc and wouldn’t let anyone else near him, and that there’s no need to be scared at all.”
He sighs, breathes, stills. Swallows, before looking back at Robin.
“So, if there’s one person who’ll make sure that boy gets the help and care he needs and deserves…”
“It’s uncle Wayne,” Robin finishes his sentence, her voice still hoarse, but Eddie likes to think it’s for a different reason now.
“It’s uncle Wayne,” Eddie says, nodding along as he does.
There is something like understanding in Robin’s eyes now, and Eddie hopes it’s enough. Enough to calm the spiking of her nerves, enough to settle the coil of freezing nausea that must reside in the pit of her stomach, enough to let the next breath she takes feel a little more like it’s supposed to be there.
He wants to say something more, wants to reach out and reassure her that everything will be okay, but he can’t know that. He doesn’t feel like it’s entirely true, let alone appropriate right now.
There’s something in Robin’s eyes, in the way she holds herself, like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like she accepts his words at face value but doesn’t really believe them. Like she’ll only rest when she’s got her best friend back in her arms and hears the story — the whole story — from him.
And Eddie doesn’t fault her, because the thing is, he doesn’t know what happened. Steve said that Hagan came at him, but that’s really all he got out of him before he started talking about death and shit, and Eddie really didn’t want to ask any more questions then.
So they sit there for a while, the silence oppressive and unwelcome, clumsy and awkward; Robin’s mouth opening and closing a lot, like she wants to ask questions but doesn’t dare to ask them — and Eddie doesn’t know if he’s glad about it or not. Doesn’t know if he wants to hear the kind of questions asked with that kind of stare.
It is only after a long while, when Robin’s shoulders start shaking again and she buries deeper into the hoodie and her own spiralling thoughts, that Eddie breaks the silence again, replaying in his head the last moment between him and Steve.
“He’s not gonna break,” he tells her, aiming for gentle and reassuring.
What he doesn’t expect is the minute flinch, the jolt shooting through her body and the pained expression it leaves her with. What he doesn’t expect is what she says next.
“You know,” she begins, her voice as far away as her eyes, and it’s like she doesn’t even know she’s speaking. “Sometimes I wish he would.”
What?
Eddie blinks, swallowing hard.
“Just for, just for a break. Just so he can rest. Let the rest take over for a while.”
That… He doesn’t— What the hell does that even mean?
“Like maybe then the world would… snap back.” She snaps her fingers, just once. This time it’s Eddie who flinches. “And everything bad would disappear. But it won’t. And he won’t.” She swallows. Then quietly, almost inaudible, “He won’t break.”
And the way she says it… It was reassuring before. And now it feels like a burden. A curse.
Who the fuck are you, Steve Harrington? And you, Robin Buckley.
Eddie shudders, knowing he doesn’t want the answer to that anymore. He doesn’t want the questions either. So he buries his face in his hands, closes his eyes, and breathes. The adrenaline has worn off by now, the repeated panicking that added fuse to the fire has ceased now, leaving him worn out and strung out, tired and exhausted. He pulls up the hood, burrowing into the warmth.
And then he stills. His usually twitching, fumbling, fiddling body falling entirely still beside Buckley.
It’s like time stops for a while there, even though Eddie knows that it’s dragging ever on and on. He’s inclined to let it, though. He’s too tired, too exhausted to really care about what time may or may not be doing.
“Why’d you call me?”
It takes a while for Eddie to realise that Robin’s spoken again, asked him a question out loud, the cadence of it different to the endless circles of questions Eddie’s got stuck in his head since the early afternoon tinged in blue against crimson.
He lifts his head, tucking his hands underneath his chin, and looks over at Buckley. Her hair is dishevelled now, her mascara smudged and crusty. Her lipstick is almost all gone, with the way he sees her biting and chewing on her lips.
“I… It seemed like the right thing to do, y’know? He kept repeating your number. In the car, it was like… Sounds dramatic, but it was like his lifeline, almost. Repeated it so often it kinda got stuck.” He shrugs. “Seemed important, too.”
Robin frowns; a careful little thing. “How’d you know it was me?”
“Well, he just talked about you. Y’know. Tell me about your favourite person, I told him, because that’s the thing you gotta do to keep people, like, talking to you. Not shit about what day it is, or what. Just, y’know. Let them talk about things they like. Things they’ll wanna tell you about. ’N’ he talked about you.”
She’s quiet for a while, letting his words sink in. And Eddie wonders if she knew. That she’s his favourite person. If he ever told her. If maybe he took that from him now. It’s a stupid thing to worry about, really; the boy was bloodied and bruised on his couch just an hour ago, there are worse things at hand for Eddie to worry about. But now he wonders if he just spilled some sort of secret. Some sort of love confession.
“Did you, I mean… Are you guys, like, dating? Did I just steal his moment?”
Robin huffs, but it’s more like a smile that needs a little more space in the room, a little more air to really bloom. It’s fond. She shakes her head, her eyes far away again, but closer somehow.
“Nah,” she says, and the smile is in her voice, too. Eddie kind of likes her voice like that. “We’re platonic. Which is something I’d never thought I’d say. Not about Steve Harrington, y’know?”
And the way she drags out his name… Eddie can relate. Like it means something, but like what it means is nowhere close to reality. Nowhere close to what it really means. Nowhere close to Blue.
Robin sighs, the sound more gentle than it should be, and leans her head against the cabinet behind her. “We worked together over summer break. Scoops Ahoy.” Her voice does a funny thing, and her eyes glaze over as she pauses. Eddie waits, his lips tipped up into a little smile, too; to match hers.
“What, the ice cream parlour?”
Robin hums, her smile widening at what Eddie guesses must be memories of chaos and ridiculousness. “I wanted to hate him,” she continues. “But try as I might, he wouldn’t let me. Or, he did. He did let me. Just, it turns out, there’s no use hating Steve Harrington, not when he’s so… So endlessly genuine. There’s nothing to hate, y’know? And then he…”
She stops, her mouth clicking shut as her eyes tear up a little. The Starcourt fire. Eddie remembers the news, remembers the self-satisfied smirk when he’d heard about it, remembers sticking it to the Man and to capitalism and to the idea of malls over supporting your friendly neighbourhood businesses.
Guilt and shame overcome him as he realises that they must have been in there when it happened.
“He saved your life?”
Robin’s eyes snap toward him, wide and caught, and Eddie raises his hands in placation.
“In the fire? Were you there?”
“Y—yeah.” She swallows hard, avoiding his eyes. “The fire. He saved me. Yeah.”
Eddie nods, deciding to drop that topic right there; to lay it on the ground as gently as he can and cover it with bright red colours so he never steps on it ever again.
“He must be your favourite person, too, then, hm?” he steers the conversation back away into safer waters.
“He is,” she says, sure and genuine and true. “It’s just. I don’t think I’ve ever been anyone’s favourite. He has a lot of people who care about him, you know? A lot of people he cares about. Even more numbers memorised in that stupidly smart head of his.” She huffs again, burrowing deeper into Eddie’s hoodie, pulling the sleeves over her hands some more. “It’s stupid, to be so hung up on this. Is it stupid?”
“I don’t think it is,” Eddie says, scooting a little closer to Robin. “Like, I don’t even know that boy, right? But even I know that he’s got some ways to shift your focus or something. Give you a silver lining, or something to take the pain away even when he’s the one who… I don’t know, that’s probably stupid, too.”
“Nah,” Robin says, scooting closer to him, too, until their sides are pressed together and she can lay her head on his shoulder. “It’s not stupid. You’re right; that’s Steve for you. ’S just who he is.”
It is, isn’t it?
You’re so blue, Stevie.
She’ll say something corny when, when you ask her, jus’ to fuck with you. Sunset gold or rose, jus’ to mess with… But is blue.
Blue. ‘S nice.
Yeah. Yeah, he is.
Eddie lets his thoughts roam the endless possibilities and realities that is Steve Harrington, the depths he hides — or won’t hide, maybe, if you know how to ask. Where to look.
Maybe he’ll find out, one of these days. Not about the terrible things that leave him scared of the hospital, not about the horrible things that have him speaking of death and dying like he’s accepted them as a possibility a long time ago.
He swallows hard and shakes off these thoughts, because things like that just. They don’t happen. They don’t happen to blue-smiled boys who trust you to be kind even when they’re beaten straight to hell. And they sure as hell don’t happen when uncle Wayne’s around.
Nothing bad has ever happened when uncle Wayne was around.
And he wants to tell Robin, wants to make that promise. But part of him can’t bear the thought of being wrong. So he keeps his mouth shut and just sits with her, their heads as heavy as their hearts as they wait.
The sun is long gone when the phone above him rings again, spooking and startling them out of their timeless existence.
“Yeah?” he answers, his heart hammering in his chest. “Wayne?”
“Hey, Ed,” Wayne’s voice comes through the phone like a melody. Calm and steady. Robin is scooting closer, and Eddie shifts the phone to accommodate her so they can both listen. Somehow, they ended up holding hands — and holding on hard. “We’re coming home now.”
🤍🌷 tagging:
@theshippirate22 @mentallyundone @ledleaf @imfinereallyy @itsall-taken @simply-shin @romanticdestruction @temptingfatetakingnames @stevesbipanic @steddie-island @estrellami-1 @jackiemonroe5512 @emofratboy @writing-kiki @steviesummer @devondespresso @swimmingbirdrunningrock @dodger-chan @tellatoast @inkjette @weirdandabsurd42 @annabanannabeth @deany-baby @mc-i-r @mugloversonly @viridianphtalo @nightmareglitter @jamieweasley13 @copingmechanizm @marklee-blackmore @sirsnacksalot @justrandomfandomstm @hairdryerducks @silenzioperso @newtstabber @fantrash @zaddipax @cometsandstardust @rowanshadow26 @limpingpenguin @finntheehumaneater @extra-transitional
(sorry if i missed anyone! lmk if you don't wanna be tagged for part 4 🫶)
#steddie#steddie fic#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#who did this to you#something has Shifted in this part and i wanna do a literary/meta analysis of it but i dont wanna ruin the fun or be annoying but hhh#also sorry if you don't like this bc it's so different from the other two but the sudden adrenaline crash will do that to ya#we'll get Blue back soon don't you worry 🤍#also eddie's mind is running in circles and he doesn't have wayne to stop him this time sooo if this feels repetitive and redundant???#then let's pretend it should read that way actually (and also eddie is an obsessive little guy he'll ruminate forever if he doesn't have#an outlet sooo)#also rambling fumbly robin going deadly still over an injured steve is the hill i will die on actually like that just makes me feral#dio words
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lee from the tea shop boutta get it (wip) [id in alt]
edit: completed illustration here
#zuko#zukka#i wanted this to be a guiding hand#encouraging or like he's surprised it's happening but holding sokka's hand comfortingly#but something about the expression and the mouth makes it seem like he doesn't want it or he's afraid#i don't know i'll workshop this#mywips#i also havent read any ba sing se zukka fics but i do wonder how they'd work#like i totally buy that zuko was SO tunnel visioned to the avatar that he literally wouldn't know what sokka looks like#but i don't know how Sokka couldn't Not know who he is#unless maybe they met as blue spirit vigilante and sokka falls for him and this is the unveiling moment and zuko's afraid of his past#but sokka's like it's okay you're changing you've helped people as the blue spirit and i care about you. those feelings are real#even now#and zuko almost decides to change for the better right then but he gets scared and turns back and canon happens idk#mistaking his father's approval for love and his love for sokka as wrong#whatever. idc. something something i just wanted to draw short haired zuko
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Miguel and Hobie making their entrances (I love that they both get a slow-motion reaction shot from another spider-person as they enter)
#someone with more media knowledge than me could probably go into the symbolism of Gwen and Miles-#both getting a slow mo reaction shot as Miguel and Hobie appear#and something about Hobie and Miguel being the only spider-people to get this reaction from someone as they enter#also if you thought I was done making Hobie GIFs you're dead wrong! I'll never stop!!#I've got a few more ideas for some GIFs I wanna make but as always I'm open to suggestions <3#I've just been focusing more on my fic lately so I haven't made that many GIFs but I'm not done yet!#also I just love the reaction shot of Gwen! It's just gorgeous! Love the colours! The contrast between the reds and blues! <3#miguel o'hara#spider man 2099#gwen stacy#spider gwen#hobie brown#spider punk#miles morales#spider man#across the spider verse#across the spiderverse#spider man across the spider verse#atsv#my post#my gif#my gifs
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dating consultations. [nagi seishiro x f!reader]
notes: it's like 'wow feelings eh' read in elmo voice. then add my nagi phase and my recent obsession with childhood friend!nagi, it turns out like this. warnings: mentions (in a very unserious way) and (manga esque) depiction of break up at the end (not between you and nagi), mentions of bunch of break ups on your part, pinning, childhood friends + gaming buddies (?), obliviousness, post canon au, minor cursing. wo/ta/koi influenced this in some ways.
“Nagi Seishiro, listen to me,” you began.
“Don’t wanna,” Nagi replied, without lifting his head from his phone.
“So, I think my boyfriend broke up with me after finding out I spent money on gacha game,” you continued on, ignoring Nagi’s refusal. “I mean, sure, that's not a good financial decision. But hey, my husband gotta go home somehow and it's like an extra money that I already planned to spend anyway. Don't you get it?”
“No, I don't.”
“Exactly—but you see, I also think that he was honest, and what bothered him the most is because he found out that you and I play better in another game that he also played…” you trailed off at a sudden, more unpleasant that appeared in your mind. “…Seishiro, if I suddenly kick you out of the leaderboard’s number one spot, you will still be my friend right?”
“Nope,” Nagi replied without missing a beat. Like a rite of passage, you knew what came afterward would make you angry. “Your aim at FPS sucks way too much for that to happen.”
Immediately, you heaved out a short huff. You then threw your body over Nagi’s quickly, cuddling the soft blanket draped over him and enjoying the soft detergent scent left on it. Whining and protesting, you “Cheer me up, you brat! I raised you on my back since kindergarten and this is how you repay me?! We grew up in the same litter—spare some sympathy for me!”
(Seishiro found his whole body stiffening when you buried your face on his shoulder and pressed your chest towards his arm. Through the blanket, he could faintly feel your warmth and body. Five years ago, this would have been something he would brush off without batting an eye. Having crushes on oblivious childhood friends who only saw you as childhood buddies is hard—Seishiro noted dully.)
“Eh, why?” Nagi questioned back, blankly, focus still drilled on the PVP shooting game he was on. “This is your…how many breaks up it had been already?”
“…I know your social IQ is low, but can you stop rubbing salt over my wounds?”
“Anyway, don’t you think you break up way too often already to feel hurt?”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…ah,” Nagi mindlessly cut the silence between the two of you. “That headshot was dirty.”
“…you are really bad at this whole cheering up thing,” you chided, sounding all too fond for it to have any effect at all. “And stop making me sound like some Whatpad bad boy.”
(From the corner of his sight, Seishiro saw a small smile etched itself on your lips. It was still too bittersweet for his liking, but at least after this—like always, as Seishiro had come to remember after all this time, without willing to—you would cheer up and stop talking about your nth ex. You wouldn’t sulk anymore and go on with whatever else except some guy who happened to be your ex.)
“Didn’t you say you want to be one, back in middle school?” Nagi questioned. “Also hurry up and log in, I need to grind for new artifacts.”
“That was middle school!” you screeched, feeling your whole head heating up due to some embarrassing flashbacks. “And you are still playing another game—I will log in later—”
“I’m done,” Nagi said, perfectly timed with the winning screen his phone displayed. “Log in. Hurry. Hurry.”
You glared dirtily at Nagi and his timing—or luck, whichever it was this time. “I hate you. Also, use Al-Haizen and Seno, I want the full ikemen academy team today.”
“Their synergy is shit.”
“And they are handsome. Your point?”
“I don’t wanna.”
“I will curse you with all defense and flat sub stat if you dare.”
“…that’s awful,” Nagi said, finally. His defeat was imminent from the start.
You sent him a wolfish smile, “And I’m still your only gaming buddy. Shush and just log in, big koala.”
“The one who is stuck on my back is you,” Nagi commented, while still following your words and changing his team before requesting to go to your map.
You laughed as you pressed your phone. With a certain brand of closeness laced in your voice, you protested, “Why are you this nosy with me? Last time I checked you are pretty obedient to Mikage, Isagi, and your captain.”
(Seishiro tried to process your words for a moment. To him, the answer has always been obvious in the way that both you and him even bothered to stick close to each other even as the two of you approached the age of twenty together. In how the one you told everything to is still him despite everyone in your life. In how if you ask, he will walk through the city just to pick you up after a terrible date and walk side by side to your home.)
Nagi stayed silent for a moment. From his side profile—adorable, handsome, yet still as baby-faced and familiar as ever—you could see how he was thinking. Then, he offered you an answer in a half-baked, dry tone, “…because it’s you?”
Once again, you laughed. Trying to swallow whatever odd beat his answer managed to draw from your heart deep and away from your face. “Gosh—watch your wording, Sei—oh, you are in already. Let’s go artifact farming! If it’s shitty let it just be Seishiro’s and not mine!”
As you hurriedly pressed your screen, you tried to not realize Nagi’s stare from your side.
You were not ready yet to admit whatever you felt for him was real. This was only a side effect of consecutive terrible break ups.
That was it and nothing else.
(”I don’t think I am the one you are in love with,” your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—told you gently. This was yet another same reason, just told to you in a gentler, more understanding way.
You could only watch him silently. You were confused, yet a part of you somehow managed to understand what he meant. However, you still couldn’t put what it was into words despite all that.
“..well, I don’t think you do it by purpose,” the man in front of you said with a nervous laugh. “…nonetheless, I’m rooting for the two of you. Don’t make him wait for too long, okay?”
Hearing that, even if you still couldn’t grasp much yet, you forced yourself to respond through your tears. “…I’m sorry...?”
“Don’t be. It should be me, really.” Ever the nice guy, your ex-boyfriend still smiled. “This is more of me saving myself from hurting in the future… just, think of it as me being bitter for being worse than you and that childhood friend of yours in that shooting game, okay?”
You laughed bitterly at that. Your crying hadn’t ceased yet, yet you managed out another reply, “Seriously? You are a shitty nice guy.”
Still smiling, your ex—a good friend, a gentle person, a diligent worker—gave you a chuckle that sounded guilty. “…sorry. I really hope we can still remain friends after this.”
“Of course. No way I’m letting go of a star student as a group project member just because of a breakup,” you joked, even if you were unsure of the future. Then, remembering how he is, you added, “And get your ugly mug off my sight now. We are breaking up—stop smiling, you bastard.”
“…well, then… should I… accompany you home…?”
“You are my ex now—no way, nice guy,” you shut him off quickly. Then, after a pause, it felt like an answer as you continued.
“…I will just call Nagi. Go away.”)
#bllk#bllk imagines#blue lock#bllk x reader#blue lock fluff#blue lock x reader#blue lock scenarios#bllk fluff#bluelock x reader#bllk nagi#nagi seishiro x reader#nagi seishirou#nagi x reader#nagi seishiro#nagi fluff#is this related to the other nagi fic? maybe but honestly not really#and also nagi is something as in this guy makes me fond but please do something about yourself. you worry me.#but this guy as the silently pinning childhood friend in concept is hilarious go nagi go boy
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The Holy Trinity of the Gays
•Heartstopper
•Red, White and Royal Blue
•Young Royals
#Im in love with all of them#i need a crossover#Or something like that#Someone write a fic!#heartstopper#heartstopper series#nick x charlie#red white and royal blue#rwrb film#rwrb movie#henry x alex#henry and alex#alex and henry#henry fox mountchristen windsor#alex claremont diaz#young royals#wilhelm young royals#wilhelm x simon#prince wilhelm#Young royals series
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hold on cut the cameras they’re supposed to be playing soccer
#me and my disease called evrry time something gay happens between me and my bff partner bestie bestfriend i have to draw it as bachisagi#also. said bff who does not even like blue lock .started reading bachisagi fics???? andthey remind him of us …….#mutual projection onto bachisagi goes crazy#anyways#bllk#bachisagi#blue lock#isagi yoichi#bachira meguru#bcis#isabachi#bllk fanart#blue lock fanart#isbc#ney draws
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Title: Something Blue {5}
Chris Evans x Reader
Warning: Heavy Cursing, Violence,
Words: 2.5k
Summary: Nah!
Note: Please enjoy. As always, thank you for reading.
If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG! ❤️❤️
***NOT Edited/Proofread***
Previous Chapters: {1} | {2} | {3} | {4} |
~~~~~~~
Verbena, citrus, and mild hints of something sweet but savory, something like chocolate--cocoa beans? Did heaven smell like cocoa beans? The thought swam around your head so long that you didn’t realize you couldn’t move. What the hell, you thought? Were you paralyzed? Quickly you thought back to the last thing you remembered. It took several moments but you remembered water—a lot of it, weeks, vines, dirt—suffocation. Just when you were coming to the conclusion that you’d died, you remembered the deepest blue eyes you’d ever seen. They were so deep you knew that if you had a lifetime to gaze into them, you’d never get to the bottom. They were endlessly deep.
Angel eyes? Angel eyes as deep as the ocean—ocean eyes. Your attention went back to the fact you couldn’t move. What the hell? You struggled against a force you couldn’t see, a force that was strong. Were you mummified? What the hell?
“It’s okay, Y/N.”
The voice broke through the penetrative sound of silence that surrounded you. Suddenly, your eyes snapped open, and you gasped. Above you were those same blue eyes, those angel eyes as deep as a bottomless ocean. They were the only thing you could see.
“Aaah!”
You sprang up ramming your head right into whoever was on top of you. You ignored the immediate ricochet of pain that ripped through your head that seemed to travel through your entire body.
“Keep your angel ocean eyes away. It’s not my time!”
Your back pressed to a firm and cool surface as you drew your legs up to your body to begin to rock back and forth a protective position and action you’d done since you were child. You kept your eyes squeezed shut, hoping that if you didn’t look into the angel’s eyes then they wouldn’t take you. As you said a silent prayer, you heard grunting and hissing through the room.
“God damnit, Y/N.”
God damnit? Did he curse?
“Uh—I’m no expert on holy things but I don’t think angels are supposed to curse much less with God’s name.”
“What? Angels? You think—.” He sighed. “You think I’m an angel?”
His voice sounded muffled, garbled, unrecognizable. Hell, he almost sounded otherworldly. Shit yours did too. You didn’t take that as a good sign.
“Aren’t you? Aren’t you here to take my soul? Aren’t I dead? I drowned.”
Another sigh then you felt a presence close to you.
“Open your eyes, Y/N.”
You shook your head.
“It’s okay. Open them. I’m not here for your soul. I don’t want that.”
“Then what are you here for? What do you want?”
Silence stretched and each second he didn’t speak, your angst rose. You began rocking again.
“I want—I want--,” he began then stopped. Another sigh followed. “I want you to open your eyes. You’re not dead.”
“Bullshit. I drowned. I remember that clear as day.”
Once you said it, you thought twice about cursing at an angel.
“I promise. You’re not dead, you didn’t drown and I’m not here for your soul. Open your eyes.”
Something in his voice sounded like he was holding back a laugh or smiling. You slowly opened your eyes and bright lights poured in through the sides making you wince and immediately shut them again. your eyes burned and slightly itched too.
“Try again.”
You did as he said using your hands to shield your eyes. Though the light wasn’t as painful this time your vision wasn’t clear. Everywhere was blurry as if you were looking through water. For the first time you registered you were sitting on something soft. Using your hands, you felt your way. Pillows—a bed. You were on a bed. Closing your eyes again you rubbed them with the backs of your hands and tried to ignore the gravely feeling in them. After a few rubs, you tried again. A few long moments of adjustment passed then the shadow became a figure and slowly the figure turned into a man and that man into one you recognized though still slightly blurry.
“Chris?”
He smiled then leaned closer. “Hi. Welcome back.”
Confusion filled you and as you tried to think your head pounded.
“Ouch!”
You grabbed your head and lowered it.
“Are you okay?”
His hands were now holding your arms. It was then you realized you were in a bra—a lacy one that you were sure showed the goods. You gasped, broke free from his hands then plastered your hands onto your breasts.
“Chris!”
“What?”
“What? I’m naked!”
“No, you’re wearing a bra, Eve and your friends undressed you. I didn’t do it.”
You looked at him warily gauging if you could believe him. The innocence on his face was clear. While he looked like a man who was a diehard fuckboi, you’d never gotten the vibe that he had to catch women unconscious to see some underwear. Slowly, you relaxed but grabbed the sheet to cover yourself.
“What happened?”
“What do you remember?”
You sighed and took your time to gather your memories. It was a slow process due to the aches and pains you felt everywhere. You felt like you’d wrestled a bear and lost.
“The botanical gardens.”
“Yes, we were there.”
You now registered the ache in your throat. Had you been screaming?
“Lunch—a picnic, a gazebo. You were taking my picture.”
“I was.”
“Then water. I was under water. I—I can swim. Why didn’t I swim?”
Your head felt muddled, and everything was hazy.
“I don’t—what happened?”
“There were vines under the water from the Lily Pads, you got tangled in them. That’s why you couldn’t swim up,” Chris explained.
“So—I did drown.”
He shook his head. “No. I got to you first. After a few compressions you came back.”
Your eyes widened as you stared at him. He’d saved you?”
“You saved me?”
He took a slow deep breath in then shrugged as he released it. “I couldn’t just let you drown; Eve’s wedding would be ruined.”
His words were nonchalant but the look in his eyes wasn’t. A few moments of silence passed.
“Th—thank you.”
“Anytime. Well not anytime, anytime. Don’t take that as an invitation to go falling into lakes now because you know I’ll save you every time.”
You smirked then it hit you and you grabbed the side of your head again in pain.
“Ah. Fall. Danielle. I didn’t fall.”
Your head snapped up and you felt the fury and fire of seven blazing suns.
“That bitch pushed me!”
The words and the voice out of your mouth sounded like you were experiencing a demonic possession to you, and they must have sounded the same to Chris because his eyes were wide with a touch of fear in them.
“That bitch!”
You sprang up ignoring the ache of your muscles and pain in your body. Chris’s eyes roamed over your figure, and you surmised you were probably only wearing panties that went along with the bra. You didn’t care right now. You only cared about one thing.
“I’m going to tear that bitch apart!”
You jumped off the bed with renewed vigor and stormed to the door before flinging it open. As you stepped into the hall, you heard the loud bang of the door as it collided with the wall, but you didn’t stop you made your way to her room. Thanks to being the maid of honor, you’d helped Eve with the bookings and planning for this weeklong wedding extravaganza, so you knew just where the jealous devil reincarnate was.
“Y/N, uh—I think you should stop.”
“No.”
“You’re in underwear.”
You felt Chris drape a terrycloth fabric over your shoulders. It must have been a robe. You shrugged it off not wanting any restrictions to your movement because you planned to beat this bitch within an inch of her life.
“Come on. You’re going to care later that people are seeing you like this,” Chris added.
You stopped and turned to him.
“Is there something wrong with my body?”
Huh?
“Is there?”
Chris looked you over again and the look on his face gave you the answer you needed.
“Of course not, you’re—you’re—perfect. Gorgeous,” he replied ending on a slightly strained whisper.
For a moment, the rage you felt whittled down and your gut burned with fire from a whole different cause. Chris took a step to you and for the moment you both seemed to be distracted from everything. After a few moments, you snapped out of it remembering yourself and catching yourself before you’d done something stupid. Spinning on your heels, you continued on your way. Knowing the floor was mainly for the wedding guests and those in the wedding party you didn’t worry about strangers snapping pictures to put on social media. Your half nakedness was miniscule compared to the problem at hand, a stupid bitch named Danielle who needed to learn her place once and for all.
It didn’t take long to get to her door and when you did you knocked politely, not banged like a landlord seeking late rent, but polite like a sweet friend. You wanted this to catch her unaware.
“Y/N, let’s go--.”
Chris stopped once your eyes landed on him. He must have instantly known this wasn’t a battle he would win because he used his fingers to zip his lips and step back. Something inside of you felt happy that he’d seen your crazy and didn’t see a reason to play good cop, he was gonna let you rock. You made a mental note later to thank him. When the door opened, you were surprised to see it was Eve instead of Danielle.
“Y/N?”
Her eyes were wide with concern. “Oh my god. Are you--?”
It was then she noticed your attire or lack thereof. “Uh—Y/N.”
She angled her head to the side. “Chris?”
“I couldn’t stop her.”
You pushed your way inside the room and saw the victim. Danielle was sitting on her bed with a tissue sniffling and crying.
“Eve I’m so worried about her. Not, Y/N. It was so traumatic.”
“Then this right here will really traumatize you!”
Danielle’s head snapped up and her eyes were wide. You saw the fear. Before she could stand, you sprang across the room, jumping on her.
“Oh fuck,” a masculine voice shouted, you knew it was Chris’.
With your weight she slid to the floor, and you climbed on her then punched her once, then twice, and third time. Danielle screamed underneath you and tried to claw at your face. This wasn’t the first beat down you’d had to give. You knew how to avoid nails. You half wished you would have taken a beat to rub some Vaseline over your face in case one of those claws caught your face. Feeling her reach for your head knowing she’d try to make a move for hair, you slapped her hard.
“Ah!”
Danielle’s hands dropped to the carpet as she gaped at you.
“You bitch!”
“I’ll show you a bitch, bitch!”
You decked her again and didn’t stop.
“Y/N, stop!”
You didn’t. You wouldn’t. Losing yourself to the anger you felt and the fear that had gripped you under that water, you released it all on her. Too soon, you felt arms pull you off of her and across the room. You still struggled to reach her, but the hands held you firmly. Chris’ scent wafted around you telling you it was him who held you.
“Let me go!”
“What the fuck is going on!”
Your eyes met Eve’s who looked angry and confused.
“Ask that psychotic bitch!”
Eve looked to Danielle who was almost unrecognizable through the blood streaming from her nose and tangled bird’s nest of hair that was everywhere.
“What’s going on Danielle?”
She came charging but another pair of hands grabbed her. It was Parker. You didn’t know when he’d gotten there.
“Tell her Danielle! Tell her what you did!”
“I didn’t do shit!”
Realizing Chris’ hands around you had slacked you lunged for her and decked her again, but only got one swing off before Chris’ were around your waist this time pulling you back to your corner like this was a boxing match.
“Y/N!”
“This bitch pushed me into the lake. She came up and pushed me.”
Eve spun to Danielle who was pinching her nose trying to stop the river from flowing. Parker handed her the box of tissue that was nearby. You doubted that would help.
“Is that true Danielle?”
“No! She’s fucking lying. You know she’s always been jealous of me.”
“Bull fucking shit! Who would be jealous of a skank like you? You throw yourself at every man you meet especially the ones who don’t want you then get pissed when the ones who turn you down hit on me or anyone else. From the day you met me you’ve been a salty, pathetic bitch and at the gardens you were pissed to see Chris kickin’ it with me and not giving you the time of day. So, you did what salty, pathetic skank bitches do!”
“She’s lying.”
Her denial only enraged you more. You tried to reach her, but Chris wouldn’t have it.
“Y/N, stop! Chris, you were there, is that what happened? Did Danielle push Y/N?”
He sighed and the scent of mint and watermelon hit you. “She did.”
The confusion on Eve’s face turned to anger. She spun to Danielle.
“What!”
“Eve—they’re lying.”
“You pushed my best friend into a lake not knowing how deep it was? You pushed her because you were jealous!?”
She trudged to Danielle who looked a little afraid.
“Eve--.”
Eve slapped her quick.
“Baby,” Parker began as a caution.
She looked up at him, but he did the same thing Chris had to you, zipped his lips and stepped back.
“I let you in our friend circle, I trusted you, and vouched for you several times and even included you in my wedding. This is how you repay me?”
“You’re going to believe this bitch over me?”
Eve slapped her again. “This bitch is like a sister to me; you are nothing near it!”
Danielle looked down.
“You’re out the wedding. Matter of fact get the fuck outta here. This friendship is done.”
Eve walked to you; Chris dropped his hands. Finally you thought. You’d been patiently waiting for it. With Ali’s words in your head you did as he said.
Float like a butterfly sting like a bee.
Slipping across to her, you swung like Ali and knocked the bitch right in her nose, the satisfying crunch made you smile. It happened so quick, that no one reacted in time. Danielle dropped to the floor and writhed.
“And I’m not this bitch, I am THAT motherfuckin’ bitch, bitch!”
“Okay Ali, time to go,” Chris said before he tossed you over his shoulder and walked toward the door that was now crowded with wedding guest and those of the wedding party.
You didn’t care even though you knew your ass was in the air. You passed a few whose eyes were glued to your ass, but you barely registered it. You did hear Chris ask out loud several times if they minded or if he could help them with something. When he did, their eyes dropped. Right now, you felt like you were floating like a butterfly.
You didn’t care if the sting would come later.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
***If you want to be tagged/untagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!***
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tag List:
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#something blue fic#Chris Evans#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans x reader#chris evans x you#chris evans x black reader#chris evans x ofc#black fanfiction#SB5#slow burn fanfic
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Something Blue (pt. 15/16)
The songs are a part of the story. Because of that, please read it on AO3.
summary: Now that Ziva is safe and can return to her family… Tony doesn’t waste any time. She’ll need to have something blue to go along with a white wedding gown.
"True love stories never have endings."
- Richard Bach
read it on ao3
(final chapter out next week!)
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Going back to my roots: posting bad-quality scans of traditional sketches. Because why not? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Anyway these two have totally taken over my brain so here have this <3
#blue eye samurai#mizu x taigen#taigen x mizu#taimizu#there was an attempt#oh yall thought i'll only flood the taimizu tag with my insane metas and delulu fic ideas? unfortunately im here to flood it with art too#sorry the brainrot is soooo real#until the taimizu fandom gets bigger i am prepared to cook all the food for this ship as i can#also sowwy this is low quality. maybe if i get time and energy i'll draw something proper for them
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two pieces i did for Pas de Deux: an Azura/Laslow zine!! running this project was such a pleasure. you can download the zine for free here!!
#azulow#lazura#fire emblem#fire emblem fates#fe14#you have never seen a zine that is so blue and yellow#but fr its so pretty + the fics own my heart#bored on a saturday? not able to read anything on twitter bc muskie boy rate limited you?#why not download the zine for something to do
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The first time Booster sees The Kid was in the middle of evacuating civilians. Booster knows that face. He knows that kid. That’s the Ruler of the Infinite Realms.
Booster freaks the fuck out because “holy shit that was the ghost king.”
The Justice league are very confused that Booster is panicking over this random child but decide to leave him be because he’s Booster Gold.
Booster decides to not say anything to the League or anyone at all because of his fear of accidentally making this kid turn evil. He knew that this kid fought an evil version of himself that wiped out worlds so he really doesn’t wanna fuck this up. He knows this kid needs a support system or else he’ll burn out in a few years but doesn’t know what to do.
So Booster goes back to the watchtower and talks to Blue Beetle about it. And he’s panicking because “Kord what should I do?! This kid can just wipe out Superman and I can’t just not tell the rest of the league. This kid has a really tragic life and I can’t not just help him. I don’t want to accidentally do something wrong and mess everything up.”
Blue beetle goes “You don’t have to tell the League. You can talk with the kid. Keep him on the right path. Become the support system for the kid.”
Booster, not realizing that he could be the one to help just goes “oh shit. That’s a good idea actually.”
And so Booster tracks down Danny in his civies and chats with Danny and offers to always be there to help.
Danny is really apprehensive but everyone knows that Booster is from the future and if the man from the future thinks that this is a good idea, yeah he should probably just go along with it. He’s had good experiences with individuals who know a great deal about future events and time and hopefully that track record won’t end here.
Booster just helps Danny with really basic shit like homework and also helping give him blueprints (with the assistance of his AI robot pal Skeets :)) to make better ghost equipment that won’t harm him and is years beyond its time compared to the rest of their current ghost technology.
So yeah. Blue beetle visits the ghost kid Booster keeps talking about and realizes that this teenager is super skilled and gifted in the engineering field. Kord tests him with an issue that has stumped the current engineers at his company and this kid solves it in under thirty minutes. The second Danny figures out the issue, Ted offers Danny an internship at Kord Industries. Danny accepts and he now basically has two Dads that support and accept him with his powers.
Once there’s a big ghost attack that the JLA has to fight and Booster arrives and pulls out this futuristic and extravagant yet cobbled together lookin machine that just captures and contains the ghost. The rest of the League are just like “what the fuck” because they were getting destroyed by this thing and Booster just had the tech that was specifically needed to capture this thing. Kord explains that his kid made it and the league is confused because “what? Kord has a kid?” And then they introduce Danny to the league. Batman instantly demands to meet this kid so he can collaborate and make more tech so situations like this won’t happen again.
They agree and later in the week Danny goes to the watchtower and does a whole “holy fuck you’re Batman” and is enamored by the vigilante. Batman on the other hand is Alert and Concerned, thinkin “why is this kid very much so not human. Too long limbs. Teeth funky. What the fuck.” And just accepts that he’s prolly a meta.
Danny never tries to show his ghost form to anyone. He uses his powers very casually and everyone simply assume that he’s a meta. Danny is super sociable and makes everyone in the league adore him almost instantly. Hired by both Batman and Kord Industries, Danny makes machines and gadgets to help the Justice League and eventually gets promoted to the Leagues head engineer.
#dp x dc#danny phantom#this is simply brain vomit sorry if it reads a tad janky#prompt#writing prompt#who am i kidding this is basically the outline of a fic#Danny is just an engineer. doesn’t actually show that he’s a ghost#sure Batman knows something is up with this kid but doesn’t wanna push it#booster gold and blue beetle are super good bros I love them so much#Danny simply forgetting to put a part into an already semi assembled gadget for the league#so he just turns the gizmo intangible/invisible besides the part he needs to fix#yeah#eldritch horror Danny phantom is best Danny phantom no I will not take criticism#long post
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Working on fics set during the manga time frame like...
Do I allude to them having backpacks to carry their camping gear / Vio's book / weapons and tools they aren't using, because that makes logical sense (even though we never see them having bags in canon)?
Do I do what canon does and handwave it, allowing items to disappear and reappear without explanation as necessary?
Do I take this one panel as indication that their hats are canonically bags of holding and that's where they keep all their stuff when not in use???
#anyway I'm working on some more of those prompts people sent in! :D#probably going with option one or two because option three is a bit too goofy for the tone of the fic I'm currently working on xD#but this is something I think about every time#four swords#blue link
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