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electronictimetravelmoose · 2 years

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How the batkids would react to you telling them you are pregnant (Headcanons)

This is part of my Batmom Headcanon Series you can find right here: Batmom Masterlist

Wordcount: 0.9k

A/N: Just some short little headcanons after not uploading for ages. Enjoy!

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

Alfred pretty much found out before you did.

He was more observant to the changes in the household and to the people living in it, so when he came to you, asking the question if you might be pregnant it all made sense.

Throwing up in the mornings, disliking the smell of certain foods, the cravings and mood changes… How couldn’t you notice it yourself?

You asked him to buy you some pregnancy tests which he gladly did and took them as soon as you got them.

It was not really a big surprise when all of them came back positive but it certainly would be one to Bruce and the kids when you would tell them.

So you started with Bruce when he came home, sitting him down and telling him the news.

Bruce was over the moon

Wanting to tell the kids yourself because Bruce, god help him, can be a bit insensitive sometimes and would maybe get a bad reaction out of them

You went out of your way to get them all to the house and sit them down.

Their bat-senses already went off knowing something bad might come but they weren’t prepared for you speaking the words “pregnant” and “big siblings” in your explanation to what is wrong

chaos was bound to happen, and boy how it did

Dick:

he would be the happiest out of all of the kids

kinda had a feeling you and Bruce would eventually have a kid of your own after all those years

but damn he didn’t expect it now

I mean you and Bruce were together for over a decade

but he was still excited

Dick would immediately jump up from the couch and would crush you in a hug

“Alright my little bird, love you too, but I can’t breath.”

declares himself the big best brother right on the spot (I mean he was a good big brother over the years but damn Dick you don’t say that in front of the insane ones)

he was about to get a beating by one of his brothers

Jason:

first of all, shock

pure shock on this mans face

feels like a twelve year old kid who just found out his parents sleep together

like how could you guys do such ungodly things

second of all, about to slap Dick right in the face for saying what he did

as if he was going to give him that title without a fight

but he would also be happy for you and that he would get another sibling, hoping it wouldn’t turn out like the demon spawn

even says it out loud

“If it turns out anything like demon spawn over there we are going to have a problem mom.”

would hug you and give you a kiss on the cheek like the mama boy he is and then beat up Dick

Tim:

would have probably figured it out too if he would have been more observant

the only things he truly looks at are coffee and Stephanie

nonetheless he has a mixture of shock and aww on his face when you speak the words

didn’t expect you and Bruce to actually have a kid together but to continue adopting strays like the others

(doesn’t consider himself one of the strays, like for real? Bruce literally picked Jason up on the streets)

just sits there for a few minutes letting it sink in before standing up and coming over to you

he hugs you too, saying he is excited to become a big brother and would immediately afterwards go on his phone to read up on pregnancies

he gotta help his mom during the next few months until the kid arrives

Bruce might be an adult but in Tim’s eyes he would fuck it up on his own

Tim-

Cassandra:

so this is tricky

both she and Damian were the most quiet and still of them all

but Cass knows nobody could take away her spot as best big sister

because she is the only one

Barbara and Dick are not married yet after all

so…

would start to smirk after that realisation

seeing her smirk made you realize she would be completely fine with it

after all you understood her without using your voice or powers

the happiness radiated off of her

you gave her a kiss on the head before you let her relax into the couch

the smile never leaving her face

Damian:

now this one would be the least happy because he thinks you wouldn’t love him anymore

he knows full well you love all of them equally no matter what but this thought still plagues him

he would just get up and leave

everything in the room was frozen for a moment before you walked after him

“Damian, are you alright? What’s wrong?”

“Will you still love me when the baby is here?”

oh boy you weren’t ready to be hit with that kind of things

you immediately hugged him and told him you would still love him no matter what and so would Bruce

you explained that sure, you and Bruce would have less time because a new born baby takes a lot of work, but that you wouldn’t love him or his siblings any less

after that he would be fine with becoming a big brother, maybe even a bit excited but he would never say that

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

Tagging: @melonecc

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harrypotter-imaginess · 3 years

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A/N: I loved doing this one guys, and I hope you love it too. Might do a part 2 not sure yet, as always commissions are still open until 3/10 message if your interested- price list is here

- Okay this is the ship guys this is it-

- This is like Hades and Persephone type of love

- Everyone thinks that Regulus is someone to be feared because of his family, and everyone knows they dabble in the dark arts

- And everyone is so caught up in his family-

- In the estate, and those dark rumors, and their dark magic-

- That no one see’s Regulus is just a boy-

- A lonely boy with no real friends, not really

- It’s worse now that Sirius has been disowned

- He’s got people around him, boys who’s parents are aquatinted with his

- But they don’t really like him

- They just hang around because they want a flicker of his power

- Of that ancient dark magic everyone’s convinced he’s got

- Everyone except you that is

- You’re this beautiful, cheerful, precious thing

- He meets you when you’re lost, looking for the bathroom

- “Sorry to bother, but do you know if it’s down the hall?” You ask, he’s seen you a few times; in class, or around the corridors

- Playing gobstones with your ever growing group of friends

- He would be jealous if he wasn’t so surprised that you’re speaking to him at all, aren’t you a muggle born?

- Shouldn’t you be afraid of him?

- Just like everyone else?

- “It’s in the next hallway, that one is moaning Myrtle’s bathroom” he says quietly

- He watches you nod enthusiastically

- Looks like you’ll be on your way now, probably for the best, he wouldn’t want his parents to know -

- “Would you mind showing me?” You ask

- And it’s awfully pushy, but somehow Regulus can’t turn down that bright smile of yours

- You talk to him so easily, like you’re not afraid of him at all

- And it irritates him a little.

- Honestly, even the professors are a little afraid of him

- Everyone is

- So why aren’t you

- “Do you-“ he stops in the middle of the corridor, and you walk a few steps forward before realizing he’s not beside you anymore

- “Do you know who I am?”

- You must not, that’s the only explanation

- When you find out you’ll go as pale as the moon, and afterward you will regale the tale for your many friends, how you barley escaped the fearsome Regulus Black, right before he was about to curse you with his dark magic.

- But you only offer a quizzical expression and a smile

- “You’re Regulus Black”

- You say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world

- It only makes him upset, but he doesn’t know why

- In fact since the moment he met you there’s been this burning irritation lingering in the back of his mind, and he just can’t seem to pin point why

- But regardless of the reason, it seems to be boiling over right now, in an empty corridor in the middle of the night

- “Shouldn’t you be afraid? I could curse you right here if I wanted”

- But the smile on your face remains

- “Maybe, but you won’t” you muse

- He laughs

- “Why because you think I’m afraid getting expelled?”

- Honestly his parents would welcome him with a feast if he came home for attacking a muggle born

- It would be a sign he wasn’t going to become like Sirius after all

- Because that’s the worst thing a person could be according to his parents-

- A blood traitor

- But instead of quaking in your shoes you flash him a quizzical smile

- “Nah, I just don’t think you’re that kind of person” you shrug

- The words echo in his mind long after you’ve said them

- And though he’s looked at you before

- He’s only really looking at you now, the easy way your lips curl into a smile, the sparkle in your eye, the glow around you-

- Like you’re made of sunlight

- Like you breathe life into all things wherever you go

- Like an ancient witch he heard of , heralded as the goddess of spring

- Like Persephone

- Ah, so that’s it

- It’s not that he hates you

- It’s that he envies you

- Because seeing how natural it is to see you do good, makes him hope - it makes him yearn to be like that too

- To be more than an heir to his family’s dark legacy

- “I could be wrong though” you shrug, you can count on one hand how many times you’ve been right about something

- But still, you just don’t buy that the shy kid in front of you is some evil prodigy bent on destroying the world

- “No” Regulus’s voice cracks, and it’s soft, so soft you almost don’t hear it.

- But your turn to him, eyes jumping from one of the many paintings in the corridor to his pale face

- His eyes seem glossy as they look into yours, and it’s not just because of the light from the torches

- “No, I’m not that kind of person” he says with a bit more strength this time, and you grin

- And while you feel that there’s something important about the moment, you don’t realize the monumental significance this chance meeting holds for Regulus

- “Oh, we passed the washroom” he realizes after a moment, he was so caught up in talking to you he hadn’t realized

- “Ah, that’s okay I didn’t have to use the bathroom anyway” you say with a wave of your hand

- Huh?

- Noticing his expression you get a sheepish look on your face

- “Well I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while, but you’re always with people-“

- Yeah he’s sure his “friends” would give off an especially murderous aura if you ever tried to approach them

- “So when I saw an opportunity, I just took it” you admit with a slight laugh

- “I wanted to see what everyone was talking about when they mentioned the ‘Dark Prince’ “ there’s a teasing flint in your eye, and the nickname alone is enough to make him flush red

- “And what’s your assessment?” he manages to ask, a smile stretching across his face

- “Very underwhelming, I came expecting several hexes and a duel, and all I got was a cute boy with pretty eyes”

- This time he really does flush bright red, eyes trained on his shoes

- You laugh, you were mostly teasing

- But he is quite cute isn’t he?

- What’s everyone so scared of anyway? He’s like a shy kitten

- He watches you walk to a particular portrait, whispering a word before it swings open

- “Well see ya around Mr. Dark Prince” you say, sending a teasing wink his way

- Regulus is glowing red, even when he’s tucked in bed, in his common room hours after the meeting. the mere memory of the words you said send his heart racing again

- “They said I’m cute” he’ll recall with a goofy smile spreading across his face

- After that, things are brighter for Regulus

- You pull him into your group of friends, quite literally

- “I-I don’t think this is a good idea” he manages, catching the terrified glances of passerby’s as you tug him forward by his arm

- What a sight you must be, the literal personification of spring pulling the Dark Prince himself by the arm through the castle

- The aforementioned Dark Prince having a rosy tinge on his cheeks, which most of the other students misplace for Fury instead of what it actually is:

- Embarrassment with a healthy dash of attraction to aforementioned personification of spring

- “Nonsense, everyone’s dying to meet you Reg”

- When you use his nickname his flush darkens

- No ones ever called him that-

- No one except Sirius and Andromeda

- He likes the way it sounds coming from you

- And you’re right, your friends accept him into their fold immediately

- “You know any curses?” One of your friends asks, it’s in a jovial manner that anyone could tell they’re just teasing but Regulus flinches

- “No, not really” he admits, not any he’s good at anyway

- He did see his parents do something akin to a sacrifice when he was younger with an alter in the full moon, but he really wouldn’t know where to start with that

- “What about gobstones, you know the rules to that?”

- Regulus nods

- “Well lets play then!”

- Before he knows it, it’s like this was always his life

- Laughing with you in class, games of gobstones with your friends and trips to Hogsmeade on the weekend

- Regulus didn’t know that he was yearning for this

- How often had he wished for something like this,

- A place that feels like it’s full of sunshine, where everyone feels accepted, and no one has to feel sad

- This is the happiest Regulus has ever been

- But all dreams must come to an end

- The end of the semester comes around, and he has to go home for Christmas vacation

- You’re standing side by side on the train platform waiting for the train, your trunk lying next to you

- “You’re not taking anything back with you?” You ask

- Regulus shrugs

- “There’s no point, everything I need is at the manse”

- You’ve always been a bit curious about what the Black manor is like

- Probably something grand, large library’s, they probably have one of those record players with the gold horn thing

- And a ballroom

- It probably makes Hogwarts look like a pile of dirt

- But the way Regulus’ face darkens when you ask him about it tells you that- yes they probably do have a ballroom, but there’s other things too, things that are far less pleasant

- And when he starts talking about his home life, how it’s worse - lonelier- Now that Sirius is at the Potter’s all the time, and there’s no one around to stand between him and his parents

- He notices your heartbroken expression and rushes to comfort you

- “It’s not so bad, Mum’s got her tender moments every so often and-“

- “Regulus” you cut in, and the sound of his whole name leaving your mouth makes him stutter to a stop

- “You’re supposed to feel safe and loved all the time not just sometimes”

- It’s such a basic thing, but when Regulus hears this, he feels like he’s being allowed something

- He feels, for the first time, he’s allowed to be safe and happy

- He’s allowed to be good

- “Why don’t you come home with me for Christmas? It’s probably not as grand as you’re used to-“

- You fidget awkwardly, maybe it’s silly, the prince, Regulus Black, himself sitting on your worn sofa, holding yarn while one of your family member’s knits

- You can picture it though

- You can picture a big smile across his face, indulging the younger children in your extended family in their requests for piggyback rides and for him to participate in their games

- “I want to,” he says, really the fact that you’re offering is enough, more than he could ask for

- “But I can’t”

- And it’s the truth, after Sirius, he can’t make any mistakes, his family won’t stand for it

- He especially doesn’t want to think what would happen to you if they found out he had been spending all of his time with you, a muggle born

- He doesn’t want to think what curses they might inflict you with

- He doesn’t want you to ever be hurt because of him

- “You’ll write to me?” You say it with the fervor of a demand, and it makes a smile curl onto his mouth

- “Everyday” he promises

- And things are exactly as they always were at 12 Grimmauld Place, his mother is distant, only livening up when one of the other ladies shows up for tea

- His father is squirreled away in council meetings

- His cousins are no fun, not really, and Andromeda’s not around anymore since she ran off with Ted

- He likes Ted, though he would never admit it to his family

- Ted is a lot like you, someone with an infinite amount of kindness

- He wonders how they’re doing

- He wonders how Sirius is doing

- He’s probably happy, he always looked happy when he was with his friends

- And so- with a picture of you discreetly kept on his desk, he writes three sets of letters

- The first is for you, to assure you he’s fine, and live vicariously through your spring, through your lovely Christmas moments and imagine himself there too.

- The second for Andromeda, to ask if she’s doing alright, and to tell her he misses her

- And the last, is for Sirius

- Asking how he is, and hoping he’s well.

- And to say that he understands what Sirius was saying all those years, in their childhood and then into adolescence, Regulus understands now-

- And he wants to be good too

#harry potter #regulus black imagine #regulus x y/n #regulus black headcanon #regulus black x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter headcanon #marauder headcanons #marauder imagine

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queenangst · 2 years

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16 verklempt for percabeth. if ur willing and able to rip my heart out rn. love you ely

verklempt: completely and utterly overcome with emotion [read on ao3]

Annabeth never liked water.

It was kind of a bad punchline, considering she’d grown up right next to the ocean, but she didn’t. Dad tried to help her, of course. It was irrational. Silly, even.

Every time he took her to the pool she’d curl up in a chair trying to read. When they went to the beach Annabeth looked for interesting shells or fragments hidden in the sand, dreaming about what pieces of history she could find worn down and waiting for her. But she never liked the water, and could hardly be convinced to step foot in it.

The explanation she used to think was the book of ocean facts she’d read when she was four. Well, demanded to be read to her. An average of four thousand people drowned a year. There were plenty of unknown dangers to the sea. So on and so forth. Dad hadn’t wanted to read the rest, but she insisted.

The ocean was just too… much. Unpredictable and uncontrollable. Imagining herself in the deep waters, surrounded by the unknown all around her—Annabeth just didn’t like it.

By the time Annabeth turned seven, she found she didn’t like feeling too much, either. They were irrational. Overwhelming. Unpredictable and uncontrollable. Fear and fury boiled until she cracked open, and ran.

Later, she’d come to know, her dislike of water was probably because of the rivalry. And her dislike of feeling was probably because of home, or what used to be home.

“I don’t get it,” Annabeth said, seven and surly and small, too small to be left here alone. She curled up in a comfortable, padded chair, hiding her arms in the too-big sleeves of the bright orange shirt she’d been given.

Chiron smiled at her gently. “Do you know much about your mother and Poseidon?”

“Yes,” Annabeth answered before her brain could catch up. Of course she knew. It was there, somewhere. “Um… Athens. That’s why it’s named after her. Because A-Athena won the contest.”

The story she’d heard came back in bits and pieces, but Chiron filled in the rest for her. There were some inaccuracies as truth had turned to myth.

Annabeth blinked at the ground. Suddenly she felt her eyes burn.

Dad had told her that one. Instead of bedtime stories, Dad liked to recount myths—especially the ones about Athena. He must have known, and he’d never told her.

She gripped the arm of the chair tightly. He’d known. He’d known her mother was out there. Not just alive, but a goddess. He’d known Annabeth was a demigod. He’d known all the monsters and the spiders and everything were real and still—

“Here,” Chiron interrupted, and Annabeth had to unclench her fingers to take the warm cup of tea he offered her. “Are you alright?”

She drank so she didn’t have to talk to him. It was dumb. Chiron watched over her the way Dad didn’t, let her ask all sorts of questions, accompanied her as one of the youngest kids at camp. He told her stories, too.

“Fine,” she mumbled, because it was rude not to respond. She didn’t want to think about Dad, so she thought about Mom instead, and Poseidon. “So… since I’m… a daughter of Athena, I might be rivals with any of Poseidon’s children. But there aren’t any, right? That cabin’s empty.”

Chiron stroked his beard. “No,” he said finally. “Not that I know of. There shouldn’t be.”

“Shouldn’t?” she asked, but he shook his head at her. Annabeth huffed. “Fine.”

Chiron chuckled. “I don’t believe you would get along with them if you did meet one.”

“Then I hope I don’t. Will you tell me about the Oracle next?”

Percy was nothing like she imagined the most important person in her life would be. He was her ticket to a quest. He wasn’t much of a reader—didn’t like books—but had sharp eyes and could think fast. Luke said he was a natural with his sword. He drooled in his sleep.

He was quite possibly the most annoying person she’d ever met.

And… even though she wasn’t supposed to, she liked him.

“You don’t have to think of him as a potential enemy, you know,” Grover told her quietly, as the bus clunked hard over a bump. “Or a rival. I can tell you don’t like him that much, but… he’s a good guy. Just give him a chance.”

“This is me giving him a chance,” Annabeth told him, raising her chin.

“Alright, alright,” Grover said nervously, chewing on a can. “I just mean—you’re allowed to be friends with him, if you want.”

“I thought your empathy link was with Percy, not me,” she grumbled. Grover bumped her arm with his.

“I know a thing or two about feelings.”

“Whatever, Grover.”

Chiron was wrong, Annabeth decided. Sure, Percy pushed all her buttons. Sometimes she asked the gods why she had to be stuck with him, of all demigods.

But he had a good heart. He cared. They’d fought the Furies, and Medusa together. He’d saved her during the Thrill Ride o’ Love. When Annabeth tried to be angry at him she found it harder and harder to keep feeling that way.

Athena wouldn’t have liked Percy. Annabeth shouldn’t have. But—Percy was right, too. They could work together.

The truck was dark, damp, and maybe the furthest from any place Annabeth pictured as home as she’d ever been. She’d slept in worse places while on the run, and at least there was a roof and some hay as bedding underneath. And company.

Here in the dark it was harder to hold onto any sort of wall she’d built, or keep the lid on her thoughts.

“So if the gods fight,” Percy started.

Annabeth didn’t want to think about that. She didn’t want to think about how their quest—the quest she’d dreamed of, the one where she could prove herself—was also meant to prevent a war between the gods. And unpredictable and uncontrollable as he was, Annabeth knew what he was going to ask.

“Will it end up like the Trojan War? Will it be Athena versus Poseidon?”

She put her head down, pressing her cheek to the coarse fabric of the backpack. She didn’t want to think about that, either. It was possible. It was likely.

And Athena… her mom would expect Annabeth, like the rest of her siblings, to fight together.

She didn’t say it out loud, but she thought she knew what would happen. Athena would side with her father, Zeus, against her rival, Poseidon. Percy’s dad. And Athena would expect Annabeth to fight against Percy.

Annabeth didn’t want to say that. She didn’t want to fight Percy. And he’d started to remind her that she was more than what her mom wanted from her, too.

“I don’t know what my mom will do,” she lied finally, closing her eyes so she wouldn’t have to look at Percy while she said it. So she didn’t have to see Percy looking at her. “I just know I’ll fight next to you.”

“Why?”

He sounded so struck by the idea that Annabeth would choose him—so confused. Percy didn’t get it.

She felt it wash over her. It was terrifying, choosing Percy—and terrifyingly easy. It was like plunging into cold water after a lifetime of not daring to go near it. It was like feeling the ocean all around her, not knowing which way was up, throwing herself into the deep. Her lungs burned. Her throat closed like she was drowning.

But as soon as Annabeth said it she knew that was going to be it. If it ever came down to it, whatever happened, she’d fight next to Percy.

“Because you’re my friend, Seaweed Brain,” she said finally. “Any more stupid questions?”

#love u bb #asks #my fanfic #pjo fanfic #percabeth #the most #THE MOST!!!!!!!!!!!

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lottiethroughthelookingglass · 3 years

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15x20 Coda

Can’t believe it’s the year of our Lord 2020 and I’m writing Supernatural fix it fics at 3am.... This truly is the bad place. Anyway here’s what happened immediately after the credits rolled on whatever that was...

“Sam and Dean stood, arms around each other looking out towards the vista. Heaven. Their heaven. United again, after everythi-“

“-Is he for real?”

“That’s what was saved on my computer. Supernatural – Final Draft.”

“This is bullshit.”

Becky shrugged, taking her laptop back from Sam as his face twitched uncomfortably.

“Who did I even marry? Like, it wasn’t even Eileen?”

“I don’t know man but you named your kid after me. I’m holding you to that one.”

“I don’t even want kids. Our lives are crazy. Why would I do that to a kid?”

“Well I’m just glad Chuck didn’t get to go ahead with that one.” Becky said, sitting back down with her laptop, “I mean all of his drafts were honestly terrible but that one… I mean it didn’t even make sense considering your character arcs. Dean literally died like he thought he would at the beginning of the series and Sam, grows old with a random woman and doesn’t do anything with his life and not even mentioning Cas even though he was right there in heaven-“

Becky looked up to find Sam and Dean staring at her.

“I’m sorry, not that you guys are just characters or anything. But just, when I came back and I found that I was really worried you’d actually died in barn because you fell on a nail.”

“Yeah well I will be avoiding all barns from now on.”

Thunk. The three of them looked up to where Cas had knocked over a Funko Pop Sam.

“Sorry,” Cas readjusted Funko Sam so he could go back to back to fighting Funko Crowley.

There was an awkward moment of silence as the group processed the revelation of Chuck’s ending. Becky sipped her tea as Cas sat back down next to Dean. Dean looked over to him, their eyes met briefly and they shared a small smile.

“Did I never even ask about Cas?” Sam shook his head breaking the silence. “Like, you come back from fighting Billie and say he’s dead and I just… never question it?”

“Well, none of you seemed very upset about my death in that story.” He turned back to Dean, “You were far more concerned with the pie and the dog.”

“To be fair that was probably the only thing that felt right there – pie is more important.”

Cas rolled his eyes and picked up another biscuit from the tray Becky had brought them. Ever since becoming human again he’d picked up a real sweet tooth. Dean was silently waiting for when Sam would start having a go at him too about healthy diets.

Like hell I’m going because of a rusty nail in a barn, Dean thought, I’m getting killed by a heart attack and Cas’s gonna die of diabetes. Sammy’ll still get to outlive us both though.

“It’d be nice to think Jack is doing that with heaven though.” Sam said, “You know, rebuilding things, making it actually good.”

“I guess we’ll have to see when we get there. Which will not be soon, we fought for a bit of peace and I’m intending to actually enjoy mine.”

“We can just ask him next time he’s home.” Cas added.

Dean shook his head stifling a laugh with his hand, “Can you imagine if we’d made him God I mean- He’s three for crying out loud. He made me buy him a Marvellous Marvin the Talking Teddy three months ago.”

“You bought him that?”

“Wait so Jack didn’t become God?”

“God no, no he’s not God.” Dean plucked the biscuit Cas had just picked up out of his hand and started to eat it, “I mean he is up in heaven, but he’s just helping Michael get things running again with all the angels back from the Empty.”

“I’m confused, so you didn’t kill Chuck?”

“Noash fukind matr-“

“Chuck’s gone, but he’s not dead.” Sam interrupted the garbled explanation Dean was trying to make through a mouthful of cookie. “We found a way to umm- bind him I guess? In his own mind so he didn’t even know it was happening. Rowena and I did the spell and Dean set the trap.”

“I was still as useless as in Chuck’s version.” Cas clarified taking another biscuit to make up for his stolen one.

“Hey, if you hadn’t saved me from Billie we’d all have been toast. You were key.”

“Wait so Chuck’s not human and he’s not dead?”

“No- God I can’t believe he made himself human. I can’t believe we made him human and then said that was a punishment – sorry, no he’s kind of in a uhhh…”

“Alternate universe.” Sam added, “but one just for him. It’s more like an alternative plane of reality inside his own mind where he can write whatever stories he wants and think they’re real but they’re not. They can’t hurt anyone.”

“But he’s God so…. They might be real? He could be making them real.”

Sam twisted his mouth thinking, it was something he’d considered but didn’t want to dwell on.

“Well it’s not us.” Dean declared, “And honestly, if he makes another world with other Sams and Deans and Cas’s and Jacks then they’ll defeat him some other way. Like Inception, but with God!” He grinned at his reference even as the rest of the room ignored him.

Becky leant back in her armchair letting out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad you guys are ok. You too Cas, he was really adamant about killing you off.”

“Dean was very adamant about bringing me back.” Cas looked over to Dean, a soft smile and look of adoration of his face.

Dean blushed, trying to cover it up with a cough. “Yeah well, I had some stuff to say.”

Becky grinned, taking a sip of her tea as Sam suddenly started to find the wallpaper very interesting.

“So, what are you guys going to do know?” Becky asked after the moment had become sufficiently awkward. “I mean no Chuck, no apocalypse, no world to save. Are you going to keep hunting, or…?”

Sam, Dean and Cas looked at each other.

“I don’t know,” Sam said.

“Honestly, I’m thinking Chuck had it right with the pie festival.”

Becky and Sam laughed at that.

Cas took another biscuit

***

Dean closed the boot of the Impala with a soft thud. Becky had given each of them one of her dioramas she sold on Etsy. It was always a bit weird being reminded that their life was a story that some people liked to collect stuff from for fun but he had to admit the miniature scale replica of Baby she’d given him was awesome.

Sam stood at the door giving Becky a hug and thanking her for the lunch. She hadn’t quite explained to the rest of the family who these three strange large men were that were randomly joining them for lunch beyond “They’re just some Supernatural fans I know from the internet.” Her husband had spent the entire time struggling to believe that lie even moreso after Cas had slightly traumatised one of the kids with an in-depth description of the dangers of invasive wasps to honey bee colonies.

Dean wandered over to where Cas stood beside Sam and Becky.

“Thanks again for checking on us Becky.” Dean said, accepting the hug she gave him.

“Of course, I always knew you’d beat him but it’s good to know for sure.”

“Sure is.” Dean took a step back, “Well I guess we’ll be seeing you?”

“Next Supernatural convention?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Even if there’s a ghost?”

“You do know we’re not the only hunters in America.”

Becky bit her lip.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she paused, “it’s just, this is exactly how I would have written it.”

Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise, Dean brows knitted as Cas tilted his head.

“I don’t- not that you had to go through all that. Just that now you can actually take a break. Be normal, do your laundry-“

“-Sam and Dean have always done their laundry. That’s how they clean their clothes.” Cas piped up in confusion.

“-Be happy. Get to actually enjoy living in the world you saved. Have free will and be at peace.”

Dean chuckled, “I mean I’m personally good with never doing my laundry. But you’re right, it’s weird but good.”

“We’ll stay in touch Becky.” Sam said.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

They waved their goodbyes and walked back over to the Impala. Dean got in behind the wheel, Sam in shotgun and Cas in the back.

Turning the key the Impala revved to life. The radio began to sing, the opening chords to Kansas’s Carry on Wayward Song filling the car.

Dean slammed the radio off.

“God, I think Chuck has forever ruined that song for me.”

Sam laughed, in the back Cas even let out a chuckle as he leant his head against the window ready for the long drive home.

It wasn’t their heaven. Not yet anyway. And that made it so much more.

#spn fic #spn spoilers #supernatural coda #destiel #destiel fic #deancas #spn #supernatural #spn 15x20 #as you can see i'm not impressed #also becky's gonna be real mad when she gets back from being thanos snapped and runs into sam ten years later at the mall #only to find out that dean died ages ago from a rusty barn nail #that will be her villain origin story #my fic

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cinnamonest · 3 years

Note

Xiao as a daughterfucker amuses me bc i cant imagine him being a father. Much less a good one to a girl. He probably either knocked someone up while he was too under the effects of karmic debt to control himself or maybe your even his kid from that god who enslaved him. That crazy goddess who raped him and used him for her sexual gratification and for war until Morax ended her life. He didnt hurt you, tho, tiny little thing who hid behind a wall and trembled while your mommy was being slaughtered. Morax foisted you onto Xiao bc he’s your father and Xiao... well, begrudgingly took care of you out of devotion to Rex Lapis. Don’t be fooled tho, he hated your guts. You look like your mom aside from the few features so obviously or closely similar to his own- and he hates that woman with every fiber of his being.

While you grow up Xiao pretty much only gets you whatever the adepti tell him to. Clothes for decency, food for nutrition, a handful of books for learning, and a weapon to survive.

He finds your growth annoying. Running around and trying to talk and touch him as if he’d ever shown a hint of warmth. By the time youre 13 You wise up, thankfully, to his intense dislike and learn to be more quiet and withdrawn. Learn to get out of his sight without him having to glare at you first. Good. You two live like strangers with him you dropping things you need for survival at your side of the abode before going off to work.

And its just... you look like your mom. But you are not her. Xiao knows this better than anyone, really. He feels a bit bad but its hard to be nice to someone who looks like his tormentor. Someone he still has nightmares about and makes him want to rub his flesh raw and bleeding so he doesnt feel gross. Your touch is unwelcomed but comfortingly warm, whenever you have the guts to touch him or help him wrap bandages and healing salves on his injured form after a day of work. Its annoying.

It’s annoying how his eyes start to trail over your emerging curves. The soft swell of your breasts, the smooth curve of your waist to your hips to your thighs, even the uncomfortably (for him) thick meat on your ass draws his attention when you flit about the house in the sparse and, honestly, immodest robes you call clothes. And it gets worse as you grow older and the voices of the damned start to whisper inappropriate thoughts about you onto his mind. How you’d look splayed on his cock, clenching and spasming as he fills your insides while your mouth hangs open with drool dripping down onto your breasts. How you’d whine when he grabs you by the hair and drags you to his cock and you’d hungrily suck it like its your last meal. How you’d open your legs and sing his praises and reassure you love him even as he defiles you inside out.

It’s terrible. Its bad. Its immoral- even by adepti standards. But you just have to grow up like your mother, dont you, and make your poor father suffer even more? with your tits you never knew how to properly wrap up with bandages so you just let free under your shirt, the nipples poking through whenever you get cold. Or those robes that are obviously TOO short and ill fitting that you insist on wearing while you run around doing housework. Or the submissive lowering of your head when you greet him when he comes home from work and it really takes effort to not bend you over and fuck your virgin hole until its a sloppy little cumdump like it OUGHT to be.

And Xiao hates it. Hates he has to be the better person, the reasonable one, and restrain himself because his daughter is too stupid even with all that education she got from the other adepti. Maybe your tempting him for real. There’s no other explanation. Or maybe Ganyu’s to blame for your whorish behavior? Ganyu certainly inherited it from her mom with how she dresses and she mustve passed it onto you somehow. Some weird girl thing he’s not privy to.

Well as your father he has to correct you now, doesnt he?

Which is why he doesnt really mind your screams and flailing when he pins you down on your bed and tears your clothes apart. Sneering at your pathetic attempt to brandish a weapon at him and slapping you hard enough for you to see stars bc how dare you point a knife at your father? As he forces your legs open and gets his dick out, staring at your pussy for a moment and commenting how much of a Slut you are because why are you wet? He’s your dad and he’s punishing you, does it make you happy? That Daddy’s finally paying attention to you? So you really were trying to seduce him before werent you? And he tsks as he shoves a finger in and wriggles, noting how wet you are and growling that you better not have whored around and he’ll kill anyone who touched his daughter before he shoves his whole length in.

(Your screams are so loud he ends up shoving those pathetic bandages into your mouth to gag you as he pumps himself into your warm, deliciously tight heat. He goes on for hours, days, weeks. Youre both adepti whether you like it or not, so you have so much more stamina and durability- Xiao doesnt intend to be kind.

After all, your mother never showed him mercy. He should repay her “kindness” back onto you.)

#lena's asks #q #tw: incest #anon ur BRAIN i am in awe

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the-cult-of-russo · 3 years

Text

The Other Woman

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

A/N: Soooo. No one asked for this one and I have prompts in my inbox and a multi chapter Billy x OC story I'm working on. Yet… this happened. I was working on an assignment for uni and this popped into my head. Billy lives in my head rent free and I'm not even mad about it. Enjoy lmaooo

Warnings: cursing, slight angst but not really, lots of fluff (literally and figuratively). It's just a bunch of cute bullshit, don't mind me looool

---------

Your nails tapped the coffee cup as you sat outside the cafe deep in thought. There was only one thing on your mind. Billy was cheating on you. There was no other explanation for his behaviour the past week and the knowledge of what he'd done was eating away at you. It started a week ago. He'd slip out after work hours saying something came up. Sometimes he wouldn't even tell you where he was going and when you asked, he'd say 'work' as he avoided your gaze before slipping out. Billy couldn't lie to you, you knew him too well for that. You knew his tells and he didn't really lie to you. But you knew when he wouldn't look you in the eye that he wasn't being honest.

Then there was his phone. He'd be on it more than usual and it was distracting him. The night before, Frank had called him and you knew it was Frank because you'd seen the name popping up on his screen. You'd both been watching a movie on the sofa together as you tried to convince yourself that Billy wouldn't cheat on you. But when he excused himself to the bedroom, your curiosity burned. Why would he need to sneak off to speak to Frank?

So you'd crept over to where the door was open by a crack and held your breath as you listened.

"Yeah, I know…. I'll just tell her I need to work again… I don't think she knows… yeah, yeah, I know… I can't wait for you to meet her, man. She's perfect,"

Those words felt like a slap to the face and a punch to the gut all rolled into one. Billy was cheating on you. Billy was cheating on you and Frank knew about it. Frank who was one of your closest friends, the one who introduced you to Billy in the first place. You'd gone back to the sofa as you dwelled in your misery and betrayal and when Billy had come back out with a wide smile on his face you'd felt sick. But you couldn't bring yourself to ask him, to question him or tell him what you'd heard. You were scared of what he might say. Scared of what this all meant.

You and Billy had been together for almost two years now and you lived together. You knew of his past but never once had you felt insecure about being with him. He loved you, and you wholeheartedly believed he did. So this felt like it completely blindsided you and your head was all over the place.

That morning Billy was gone by the time you woke which was nothing new since he often let you sleep when he got up to work. But you'd come to the cafe by lunch because you were drowning in your thoughts back at home. The home you shared with him.

You blew out a breath, grabbing your cell from your pocket as you rang Anvil. You had a gut feeling and you wanted confirmation. His secretary picked up the phone and you sighed before asking something you dreaded the answer to.

"Hey, Annie. Is Billy there? I need to talk to him," you said softly. The older woman cleared her throat down the phone before speaking.

"He's not here, Y/N. He took the day off," she said warily. Well then. You thanked her quickly before hanging up, the lump lodged in your throat getting bigger.

How could it all have gone so wrong? You stood, tossing the half drank coffee in the trash as you made your way home with a broken heart. You hardly expected Billy to be sitting on the sofa when you got home. But there he was in all his glory. A burgundy sweater with his jeans and boots, hair slicked back like always. You felt like you were hanging on by a thread.

He smiled when he saw you, standing up and making his way over.

"I thought you had work," your cold tone stopped him in his tracks as he looked at you cautiously.

"I took the day, had some things I needed to do," he replied easily. Things he needed to do. More like someone he needed to do. Tense didn't even begin to cover how you were feeling.

"Look… there's someone here I want you to meet," Billy said hesitantly, glancing to the closed bedroom door. He really wouldn't just… The string of composure you were holding onto snapped.

"Is this some kind of joke?!" You yelled. He looked shocked, eyes wide and confused as he tilted his head.

"Uh… what?" He asked carefully.

"It's bad enough you're having an affair that apparently Frank knows all about but you've brought her here?! You want me to meet her?!" You were incredulous at his audacity. You wondered if he'd suffered a head injury a week ago or something.

Billy blinked at you with his dark eyes for a moment before he burst out laughing. But when he saw your tearful eyes glaring at him, his laughter died instantly.

"You… you think I'm cheatin' on you?" He asked slowly, like he was talking to a toddler. Your brows furrowed watching him warily as he walked over to you.

"You've been acting weird all week, Billy. And I heard you on the phone last night. I heard you talking to Frank," you muttered, hating how your voice wobbled.

Billy looked stricken at how upset you were and wrapped his arms around you and you melted into him despite yourself. He stroked your hair soothingly with one hand as the other rubbed your back.

"I'm not steppin' out on you, Y/N. I'd never do that," he sighed. He moved away, cradling your cheeks as his obsidian gaze looked over your face like he was searching for the answers of the universe.

"Not gonna lie, I'm a little offended by your lack of faith, but I have been actin' weird so I'll let it slide," he murmured with a soft smile.

"But then… what was that all about?" You asked, deflating a bit as he wiped away the couple of tears that had fallen. He leaned in and kissed you softly, one of the rare tender kisses he'd give you if you were upset. You were incredibly confused and maybe also felt a little guilty that your mind went there.

When he pulled away, he shot you a grin, looking almost like a kid on Christmas which only furthered your confusion.

"Wait here," he beamed, dashing off to the bedroom. You really felt like you'd been transported to another dimension where nothing made sense. But then Billy came back out with what you could only describe as a living, breathing, real life Pokemon in his arms. It was a Pomeranian puppy that just looked like a cloud with two shiny back eyes peeking out.

You made a noise that you couldn't even describe. A mix of a whine and a coo that people often reserved for cute animals and babies as if they couldn't help themselves. Your feet took you over to where Billy was grinning at you and the ball of fluff was nibbling his hand.

"Billy…" your voice was still a little high, a little pout on your face as you reached out and stroked the fluffy fur on the puppy.

"Meet Cotton Ball. Cotton Ball, meet your mom," he smirked, grabbing a tiny paw and making it wave at you. It was something to behold seeing Billy like this and you almost melted right into a puddle.

"Wait so… this is the other woman?" You asked with a snort, feeling so utterly stupid for how your mind went there. Billy rolled his eyes with a laugh as he handed over the bundle of cloud to you.

"Do you like her?" He asked hesitantly, looking almost unsure as he glanced from the puppy to you.

"I love her. Thank you, Billy," you murmured, cuddling the tiny puppy closer to you.

"I uh… I know that you said you wanted a dog," he started, his shoulder rolling a little.

"Which you shot down immediately," you cut in, raising a brow at him. He chuckled, rubbing his beard a little with a nod.

"I know. But… I saw how disappointed you were and I decided I never wanted to see that look on your face again. Especially not 'cause of me. She hadn't been fully vaccinated and stuff so I've been waitin' to bring her home. Been to see her a few times to get her used to me," he shrugged, looking almost bashful which was a strange look for him. It was cute.

"I love her. And I love you," you smiled wide at him. His insecurities seemed to wash away at your bright smile and he returned it, leaning over to kiss your forehead.

"I love you too. Come here, lemme show you somethin','' he took your free hand and led you to the bedroom. On the floor next to your bed was what looked like a queen bed shrunk down. It was a dog bed but a fancy one and the cozy sheets looked expensive too. There was also a basket filled to the brim with dog toys. You looked at him incredulously with a laugh.

"And here I was thinking you weren't a dog person and you're spoiling her already," you teased. He chuckled, a slight pink tint to his face you couldn't remember ever witnessing as he bit his lip and smiled at you.

"Yeah well… my girls gotta have the best. And… I mighta got attached to her," he shrugged easily.

"Billy Russo has a heart after all. Who knew?" You snorted. He gripped your jaw gently, giving your lips a firm peck before smirking down at you.

"Don't tell a soul or I'll have to kill you. I got a rep to keep," he smirked devilishly. You snorted again, shaking your head as you took the now sleeping puppy to her lavish bed and set her down.

When you walked back over to Billy, you wrapped your arms around his middle and he responded in kind and held you close.

"I can't believe you thought I'd cheat on you," he murmured, nuzzling your hair. You felt your cheeks heat up as you moved away and looked up at him.

"I know. I'm sorry, I just… you'd been acting weird and then the phone call, I didn't know what to think," you said softly. He frowned a little, tucking some of your hair behind your ear before resting a hand on your jaw.

"You know I love you, right?" He asked with a furrowed brow.

"I know. Honestly… I've never questioned it. I've never felt like that before. My mind just ran away with itself," you felt bad now and really fucking stupid but he had been acting weird. How were you to know that he was secretly procuring you the cutest puppy to exist?

He kissed your forehead softly, lips lingering a moment before he cupped your cheeks, tilting your head to look up at him. His dark eyes were full of many emotions and you got lost in them.

"You're the only one I want. Ever since I met you, I never wanted anyone else. I ain't ever felt like this before but all I know is… I'm yours. I love you, Y/N. There'll never be anyone else," he murmured sincerely. You couldn't help the dopey smile on your face as you leaned up and captured his lips in a soft kiss.

"I love you too, Billy. But… I will have to share you now with Cotton Ball," you teased against his lips. He chuckled, nipping at your bottom lip.

"You'll always be my best girl," he grinned, rubbing his nose against yours.

One hand dropped to your neck, the other slinking around you and settling on your ass as he kissed you deeply. Just as you were really getting into it, he hissed, cursing and moving away as he lifted his foot. The foot that had tiny razor teeth latched onto it as the dog dangled off his toe. You couldn't help the bubble of laughter that came out of you as you pried the dog away from his foot.

"Feel like I might end up regrettin' this decision," he huffed, eyes narrowed at Cotton Ball who was now happily in your arms. He wasn't really mad though, his lips were slightly upturned as he reached out and rubbed the dogs tiny head.

"Awww. Is the big bad marine scared the lil doggy might bite his ass when he's having sex?" You mocked playfully.

Billy's mortified face had you in stitches. He looked like he'd not considered it until you said it and now he was glaring at the dog like she'd ready done it.

"We're gonna need some boundaries," he muttered to the dog as he pointed at her, then his piercing eyes turned to you and you bit your lip to stifle your laughter.

"And for the record, I am a big bad marine and I ain't scared of a fuckin' dog," he smirked with a raised brow. You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly as you turned, dog in hand, and left the room.

"Mhmm. Just wait until I tell Frank how you're scared of a ball of fluff. Or the guys from Anvil. Or maybe I'll tell them just how much you love her already," you grinned, laughing when he gripped your hips and dragged you so your back pressed against his front.

"What I tell you? You tell and I'll have to kill you. I don't wanna do that, I might just miss you," he murmured with a smile as he nuzzled your neck.

"Russo's going soooft!" You teased with a laugh, squealing when his hands dug into your sides to tickle you.

Honestly, you never really thought Billy would be a dog person. But you never thought he'd be the type to live with someone and here you were. You never thought he'd be the type to use the L word yet he did with you. He was full of surprises and this was way better than you anticipated. You never expected the other woman to be so cute.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #the punisher #billy russo imagine

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homoose · 3 years

Text

Love Has a Learning Curve: Part III (x reader)

Summary: Spencer has to face Anita and Sam— and learns a little about reader’s past. Reader and Spencer babysit for Michael and Henry.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, a tiny smidge of hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: implied smut, drinking/alcohol, vague mentions of previous emotional/mental abuse (Owen)

Word count: 4.2k

a/n: This picks up right after the end of the tmsidk epilogue! I also worked two requests in here.

Series Masterlist

———

Spencer stacked the last of the tiny chairs in the center of the room, stepping back and dusting his palms on his trousers. He looked over to see Y/N playing a sort of container tetris with the bins of supplies in her closet. He smiled a little to himself, his head still in the metaphorical clouds with her confession of love.

She maneuvered the bins to her satisfaction and shut the closet doors, pushing against them to squeeze everything in until the latch clicked. She turned to see him watching her and wiped imaginary sweat from her brow. She gave him a wink and a grin, and he was falling all over again.

She perched on the corner of her desk with a tired sigh, and he made his way across the room to her. She reached for him as soon as he was within arms length, wrapping her arms around his middle. She snuggled into his chest, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Let’s go to dinner to celebrate.”

She laughed and looked up at him. “Celebrate what?”

He shrugged. “You. Summer.” He brought his arms around her shoulders. “Love.”

She smiled and scrunched her nose at him. “You just want me to say it again.”

His lips twitched. “Maybe.”

Her hands came to rest on his hips, her fingers squeezing lightly. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he answered immediately and rather dreamily.

“Yo, Y/L/N!”

The call of her name from the hallway startled them both. Anita began to step over the threshold, continuing, “You ready to get absolutely crunk tonight or— oh.” She stopped dead in her tracks, eyes tracking Spencer’s frame. “Dr. Reid.”

Spencer stepped back from Y/N, smiling a little awkwardly at the formality and giving a wave. “Mrs. Lopez. It’s, um— it’s nice to see you again.”

Anita hummed noncommittally, and Spencer shoved his hands in his pockets. She turned her attention back to Y/N. “So, are we going out or what?”

Y/N groaned. “Anita, I’m exhausted. Can we keep it low key? Oh!” Her eyes lit up with an idea, and Spencer could already see where this was going. “Spence and I were gonna get dinner to celebrate, um— summer. Call Sam; we’ll all just go together.”

Anita spared a glance in Spencer’s direction before sighing heavily. “Fine. But I’m drinking.” With that, she turned on her heel and disappeared back into the hallway.

Y/N chuckled. “I swear she’s not actually an alcoholic.” Her eyes landed on Spencer’s face, and she smiled gently. “I know you weren’t expecting a Meet the Friends night, but it’ll be fun.”

“She hates me,” Spencer surmised.

“She does not hate you.” Y/N stood from the desk, pressed a reassuring peck to his lips. “She’s just… protective. That’s all.”

…

Y/N was entirely wrong. Anita Lopez hated him. That was the only explanation for her absolutely icy demeanor.

They’d met up with her and Sam at a Mexican restaurant in Tenleytown. Sam was wonderfully kind and funny, even apologizing for having “flipped him the bird” the last time she saw him. And it was a good thing Sam was being friendly, because Anita was decidedly… less so.

Spencer understood completely of course. He’d broken Y/N’s heart. Penelope had been ready to hunt her down at the mere thought of him being hurt. As Y/N’s best friend, Anita had every right to be wary of him. She had every right to hate him. He’d just... hoped that she wouldn’t.

Thankfully, Y/N and Sam were more than happy to carry the conversation— he and Anita chiming in here and there. He learned that Sam worked as an attorney at a firm specializing in family law. She and Anita had two kids, Riley and Sidney— one in 2nd grade and the other in preschool.

“Y/N is still Riley’s favorite teacher ever,” Sam told him. “I mean, it helps when she’s also your aunt, I guess.”

“He didn’t get any special treatment,” Y/N insisted. At Sam’s raised eyebrow, she laughed. “Okay, maybe a little special treatment. But you raised a good kid! And I can’t help it that he was the most trustworthy of the bunch.”

“Oh my god, the field trip,” Sam groaned, rubbing a hand over her face.

“The field trip!” Y/N turned to Spencer. “My group of kiddos from two years ago— they were kind of a tough group.”

“Kind of?” Anita squeaked. “Let me just tell you, I can hear them through the floor. The entire middle school is literally dreading the day they make it upstairs.”

Sam piped in, “I chaperoned on said field trip to the zoo. And I vowed that I will never, ever go on another field trip. Ever.”

“What happened?” Spencer asked incredulously.

“So many things,” Sam baited.

Y/N covered her mouth to stifle a cackle, leaning a bit into Spencer’s shoulder. He couldn’t help but smile, looking around at the three women. Even Anita was chuckling, and she’d barely cracked a smile all evening.

“Okay, so many things happened,” Y/N started, “but the worst was—”

“The poop!” Sam wheezed. “The poop was the worst part of that day. The smell alone, oh my god.”

Y/N composed herself as best she could, gesturing over the table. “So after this nightmare of a day, we get on the bus, and there’s this— smell.”

“The absolute worst smell you’ve ever smelled, Spencer,” Sam assured.

“It’s awful. It’s so bad,” Y/N agreed. “And I’m literally going seat to seat, checking to make sure no one has shit themselves.”

“You could not pay me enough,” Anita chimed in.

“And I get to the seat that is very clearly where the smell is coming from. And I can’t, like— hold my nose, right? I don’t want to embarrass him!” Y/N turned to Spencer with flushed cheeks. “So I ask, ‘Sweetheart, did you have a bathroom accident?’”

Spencer let out a nervous laugh. “Oh no.”

“But oh, it wasn’t a bathroom accident,” Y/N clarified, waving her hand. “No, no— that would be too easy. This child had somehow managed to obtain copious amounts of poop from one of the zoo animals and packed it into his lunchbox to take home.”

Spencer could feel his jaw drop. “Oh my god.”

“So, he unzips his lunchbox and it’s just— overflowing with shit.” Y/N dropped her head into her hands, overcome with giggles.

“And don’t forget the worst part: his mom was on the field trip!” Sam lamented, throwing her hands up. “I will never understand.”

Y/N lifted her head with an exasperated grin, and he wasn’t sure if it was the story or the fact that she loved him, but Spencer felt like he could float away into outer space.

“I told you I had a lot of poop stories,” Y/N reminded him, drawing another round of laughs. As they composed themselves, the waiter came by their table to clear some of their plates and refill their water.

“God, I said we were keeping it low key, and then I drank half a pitcher,” Y/N complained, pushing back from the table. “I’m just gonna go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

She gave Spencer a reassuring smile, and he tried not to panic as she stood and left him with Sam and Anita. And because the universe was toying with him, at that exact moment, Sam’s phone began to ring. She pulled it from her pocket with a sigh.

“Shit— I’ve been waiting on this call all day.” She kissed Anita’s cheek and stood from the table. “So sorry; I’ll just be five minutes, I promise.”

With that, it was just the two of them, staring intently at their water glasses. Spencer was certain he should say something, but he wasn’t sure what. Anita broke the silence first.

“You know what’s annoying?”

Spencer wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “Considering that the issues one might classify as an annoyance vary for each individual person, there are over seven billion potential answers to that question.”

Anita tilted her head with an unimpressed purse of her lips. Spencer hedged, “And I understand now that it was probably rhetorical.”

“I actually kind of like you.” She leaned across the table with an irritated sigh. “I wanted to hate you, but I don’t.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, I’m, um— I’m glad to hear that.”

“You’re good for her. Smart, humble, kind. Enamored with her, as you should be,” she deadpanned. She dropped her chin into her hand. “Almost as hot as she is.”

He laughed a little at that. “Thank you?”

“You’re welcome.” She dropped her hand back to the table. She still didn’t crack a smile, and her gaze bore into him. “I don’t know how much you know about Owen, and she’d probably kill me for saying anything. But he was a real piece of shit.”

This was not the direction he thought this conversation would take. He didn’t know anything about Owen; he’d tried not to think too much about anyone Y/N might have been with before him.

“It didn’t start out that way.” She drew her brows together. “Well, I don’t know— maybe he was always an asshole, and he was just good at hiding it.”

She shook her head and leaned back in her chair. “The point is, I didn’t know he was treating her like garbage until it was too late. He was already all…” She gestured wildly around her head. “In her head, telling her lies about herself, fucking her up, isolating her. For years he did that. And then it took her years to get him out of her head. To— unlearn all the lies. To build herself back up.”

He could see her grinding her teeth, trying to calm down. He was intensely grateful to not be on the receiving end of Anita’s wrath. He was also immensely glad that Y/N had a friend like that. And his blood absolutely boiled at the thought of her ever feeling anything less than adored.

“You’re a fed or whatever, so I shouldn’t be telling you this,” she continued, “but I would love nothing more than to put that fucker six feet under.” She ran her hand through her hair, and when she continued her voice was the quietest he’d ever heard it. “All that to say, I… I wasn’t there for her when Owen was destroying her from the inside out. And I will never let that happen again.”

Anita locked eyes with him and her voice was resolved. “I like you, Spencer. And I want to keep it that way. So, just— don’t give me a reason not to.”

She didn’t drop her gaze, and he couldn’t quite think of the appropriate response. He opened his mouth, and then closed it again. His brain was still fixated on the idea that anyone had ever hurt the loveliest and kindest woman he’d ever met.

“Where’s Sam?” Spencer turned just as Y/N slid back into the chair beside him, a comforting hand coming to rest on his knee.

“Some bullshit from the office that her idiot partner can’t handle.” Anita raised her eyebrows at Spencer, and he nodded minutely. She shifted her gaze back to Y/N with a grin. “Don’t worry. I didn’t scare him too much.”

…

“Easy.” Spencer steadied Y/N with a hand on her waist as they made the way up the stairs to his apartment.

“Jesus, I’m so sorry. I just— really can’t drink like I used to.” She clutched a little at the railing, and he held his breath until they were at the top of the stairs.

He slipped an arm back around her waist as they crossed to his apartment door, fumbling with his keys and fighting back a shiver as she snuggled close and ran her hand low over his tummy.

“Can’t believe I’m tipsy from a couple margaritas.”

“To be fair, you had four,” he chuckled, turning the key and pushing open the door.

“Okay, okay,” she relented. “But I used to be able to have a whole pitcher and be totally fine.”

“A pitcher?” Spencer laughed as he locked the door and turned to face her. “I can’t even have one without being completely incapacitated.”

She ran her hands up from his waistband, over his chest, and wrapped them around his neck. “Mmm, so you’re a lightweight.”

“Very much so,” he confirmed, bringing his hands to her hips.

“Just one more sweet thing to love about you, sugar.”

He couldn’t stop the smile from stretching across his face at the endearment, the way that North Carolina dripped syrupy and thick over every syllable. She pulled him down to meet her in a sweet kiss, quickly deepening it as he dug his fingers into the softness of her hips. Her hands wound into his hair, tugging lightly and holding him close.

He broke away to rest his forehead against hers and catch his breath. She laced their fingers together and leaned on him while she kicked off her shoes. He toed his own off and then allowed her to lead him toward his bedroom.

She sat him down on the edge of the bed and straddled his lap, bringing her hands up to tangle in his curls once again.

Before she could lean in for another kiss, he murmured, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Sounds dangerous,” she teased, ghosting her lips over his.

“Ha, ha.” Part of him wanted to bring up Owen, but she was so happy and warm and comfortable in this moment. He didn’t want to ruin this night of celebration. He didn’t want to ruin this day that had been so full of love. They had plenty of time to discuss Owen.

He wrapped his arms around her middle. “You’ve met Penelope. I’ve met Anita. Now that the school year is over… we could tell Michael.”

She pulled back, and the smile she gave him could only be described as radiant, and he knew he made the right decision. “He’s gonna lose his mind.”

…

A week later, the pair of them were strolling up the sidewalk to the LaMontagne house. Will and JJ were long overdue for a date night, and Spencer had jumped at the opportunity for the two of them to babysit. When they reached the door, Spencer rang the bell and Y/N waited slightly behind him.

They could hear the joy from behind the door before it even opened, Michael’s high pitched giggle and Will’s booming laugh. Spencer was already leaning down in preparation, and Michael absolutely launched into his arms as soon as the door swung open. Spencer clocked the moment that Michael spotted her, purely because he practically squealed and squirmed right out of Spencer’s grip.

“I knew it!” Michael cried.

He wrapped himself around Y/N’s legs and squeezed tightly, and she rubbed a hand over his hair with a bewildered smile. Michael broke away to turn back to Will with a grin. “I told you.”

“You did, buddy.” Will gave Spencer a lopsided smile as Michael tugged Y/N forward by the hand. “Michael had an… inklin’ that uncle Spencer might be friends with Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Not friends, Daddy,” Michael said exasperatedly. “He’s her boyfriend.”

“Oh, excuse me, sorry.” Will held his hands up in apology as he stepped aside to let them all in the door. “Michael had a feelin’ that uncle Spencer might be Ms. Y/L/N’s boyfriend.”

Y/N’s cheeks had turned a very pretty shade of pink. “What— um, what made you think that?”

Michael waited patiently for her to take off her shoes. “Well firstly, he started picking me up all the time, which was nice but weird. And then he wouldn’t stop asking about you. It was kind of annoying.” Spencer made a choking sound, and Will stifled a laugh.

“You guys wear the same shoes, and you both love Halloween and tea and reading. I knew you’d like him if he could be a guest reader.” As he led her into the living room, Michael continued, “Oh, and you wore his purple scarf. He doesn’t let anyone wear the purple scarf.”

Spencer vividly remembered that morning— she’d slept over after a midweek date night in April. The temperatures in DC had plummeted overnight, and the outfit she’d brought left her woefully under-dressed for the chilly spring day. He’d wrapped her up in the soft, purple scarf without a second thought.

She caught his eye with a shrug, and Will tried not to look too smug. Spencer watched her be dragged further into the house, turning to Will with a sheepish smile.

“Well, guess I can’t take all the credit,” Will decided. “Who knew we had a mini matchmaker this whole time?”

Spencer huffed out a laugh as Michael pulled Y/N into the playroom. “This is the best,” Michael sighed. “Now we can play restaurant forever.”

…

Spencer pulled his legs up in the tiny chair, resting his elbows on his knees and taking a moment to watch the scene in front of him unfold. Usually on nights like this, Michael ran him ragged with demands for magic tricks, story time, and playing pretend. Tonight, he’d actually been able to catch up with middle school (middle school!) Henry, because Michael was totally and completely enthralled by Y/N.

She was helping with the last of the setup for the “restaurant,” organizing Michael’s menus and straightening his clip-on tie. Of course he’d seen her with kids before. But something about being in this playroom— one that he’d spent so many hours in, watching two of his favorite kids grow up— had him feeling warm from head to toe.

Henry had bounded down the stairs at the news that uncle Spencer was dating his former kindergarten teacher. He hadn’t realized that she’d taught Henry, too, although with the timeline of her teaching career he should have put two and two together. The generally reserved middle schooler had positively beamed when she gasped out, “Gosh, I always forget how tall you’ve gotten!”

And now three of his absolute favorite humans were in one room, and he couldn’t stop smiling.

“Hen!” Michael called.

Henry turned from his spot in the chair across from Spencer. “What?”

“You’re the chef,” Michael informed him.

Y/N tilted her head. “I thought I was the chef?”

“No, no, no.” Michael pushed her toward the kid-sized table. “You and uncle Spencer are on a fancy date.”

Henry rolled his eyes playfully and stood from the chair, pulling it out for her like a perfect gentleman. She beamed at him and gave him a wink. “Thank you, sir.”

She dropped lightly into the chair across from Spencer and laughed a little at his folded limbs. “You look very comfortable.”

He laughed and stretched his legs out straight. “The picture of comfort, really. These chairs were clearly designed with six foot men in mind.”

“I’m sorry I’m so under-dressed for our fancy dinner date,” she teased, dropping her chin into her hand.

“You look stunning, as always.” He gestured to the messy braid Michael had folded her hair into. “I especially love what you’re doing with your hair.”

She sucked in a dramatic breath, bringing up her hand to pat lightly at her hair. “You’re making me blush, doctor.” She peeked behind her and then lowered her voice. “I’m probably going to cry when I try to brush the rats out.”

He looked at her sympathetically. “I know the feeling. I think I’ve got a wide tooth comb, and I can help. I’ve gotten pretty good at detangling Michael’s handiwork.”

Before she could respond, Michael made his way to the table, holding a dish towel over his arm. “Good evening, sir, madam.”

“Good evening,” they chorused, with barely suppressed grins.

“Compliments of the chef.” Michael held out his hand to reveal two slightly smushed strawberries.

“Oh, wow,” Y/N said, eyes wide and gesturing to Spencer. “Honey, do you want to—”

Spencer waved his hand, eyeing the berries warily. “No, no, please, help yourself.”

Y/N held back a smile and accepted the strawberries, holding them carefully in her hand and turning her attention back to Michael. “Thank you so much. What a wonderful appetizer. Could we hear the specials?”

That helped Michael remember the menus, and he pulled them from his pocket and cleared his throat. He handed them the construction paper menus. “Our specials tonight are roasted octopus and a steak tartar.”

From the kitchen, Henry mumbled, “Tartare.”

“Tartare. Steak tartare is our special,” Michael corrected.

“Hmm, I don’t know if I’m that adventurous. Maybe my boyfriend is though,” Y/N told a grinning Michael. “What do you recommend for a picky eater?”

“My favorite is the chicken nuggets.”

“Well then, sign me up. One order of chicken nuggets.” Y/N handed him the menu.

Spencer was still perusing the menu for Le Chateau LaMontagne. He smiled at Michael’s handwriting, but particularly at the places where he could tell Y/N had helped. “Everything looks delicious,” he finally decided, “but, you know... I think I’m also going to have the nuggets.”

…

When the boys were finally in bed, Spencer and Y/N settled down in the living room to untangle the mess of her hair. She sat on the floor in between his legs as he gently pulled each braid strand free. He smiled at the way she arched up into his touch, shivering when his fingers brushed over her neck.

“You’re lucky,” he remarked, laying the last braid strand back into its original place. “Michael seems to have gotten a little better at braiding.”

She leaned her head back into his hands. “You detangled the whole thing?”

“Mmhm.” He leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead, then her nose, then her mouth. She brought her hands up to hold him against her, trying to deepen the kiss before laughing at the awkward angle and giving up.

He sat up as she stood and moved to the couch, snuggling up close to him and tucking herself under his arm. “I’m very lucky,” she agreed. “For many reasons.”

Her hand drifted to rest on his tummy, her fingers immediately tracing little shapes over the fabric of his shirt. He pressed a kiss into her hair. “And tired, too.”

“Hmm?”

He leaned his cheek against her head. “When you get tired, you, um— you start drawing on my stomach.”

Her finger paused. “Do I?”

“Yeah.” She shifted to raise her head to look at him, and he shrugged. “I don’t mind. I’ve just— noticed.”

She smiled a little sleepily. “You know I love all of you. But I— well, I don’t know, really. I just like your tummy.” She gave it a quick squeeze. “It’s just— nice and comfy and perfect for resting on.”

He covered her hand with his own and leaned forward to press their mouths together. She drew his bottom lip in between her own, sucking a little and then giving it a quick peck before pulling back and stifling a yawn into his chest. “Man, I am tired.” She snuggled back into him and resumed her tummy tracing. “What, um— what else have you noticed?”

He rubbed his hand down her arm and pulled her impossibly closer. “You like to play with my hair.”

“Mmmm, guilty as charged.”

He smiled at the sleep creeping into her voice. “I like it, too.” He ran his fingers up to her shoulder, and then back down to the crook of her arm, soothing her closer to sleep. “Hmmmm. You always have at least one point of contact on my body at all times. It’s usually your hands, but sometimes it’s your head or even your toes— like when you tuck them under my leg.”

“Ugh— I’m sorry. Clingy and putting my feet on you,” she mumbled.

She might have been joking, but Anita’s words were replaying in his head. He couldn’t change what had happened in the past. He couldn’t go back and prevent her from being hurt by someone else. But he could be different in every way. He could be open and honest and vulnerable with her like he’d promised.

“I’m not sorry. I love all of you,” he murmured, pulling her in closer and repeating her words back to her.

“Even my feet?”

He could also show her that there was absolutely nothing that he didn’t love about her. “Especially your feet.”

She huffed a sigh into his chest. “Y’got a foot thing I don’t know about?”

He laughed a little at that. “Only for yours. They’re very cute feet.”

“You’re weird,” she muttered, but she hugged him tighter when she said it.

“You love it.”

Her fingers on his tummy had come to rest comfortably just above his waistband, and he knew she was on the very edge of sleep. “Mmhm. Love you.”

He thought of all the little moments over the past few months.

Doesn’t live up to expectations? Sorry for overstepping. Are we dating? Sorry for being clingy. Sorry for taking so long to tell you. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.

“I love you, too,” he murmured. “So much.”

———

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#spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds self insert #homoose writes

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beauvibaby · 3 years

Text

all I could ever want – t.seguin

a/n: part 2 of there won’t be anyone else!! I definitely prefer the first part of this story, but I also love this one because it’s just straight fluff 😌

Word count: 2.9k

“Mommy!” Willow squealed in delight, running into the kitchen to see you, Tyler had picked her up from preschool on his way home from practice. “Willow!” You mimicked, laughing as she hugged your legs, “did you have a good day?” You asked with a grin, Tyler chuckled, “Miss Laura is having a baby.” Tyler spoke for her. Willow nodded excitedly, “aw, that’s great.” You smiled, hoisting Willow up to sit on the counter. “I want you to have a baby, mommy.” She spoke honestly, giving her dad a weird look when he choked on his water, you snickered at him. “Maybe.” You shrugged her comment off, thankful for her short attention span, she was asking to go play with the dogs as she wiggled her way into your arms to be put down on the ground. “Go ahead.” Tyler nodded her off and she went barreling towards the living room where the dogs were innocently napping, poor boys.

“What was that reaction for?” You asked once it was just the two of you, he mumbled something under his breath, “talk like an adult, Tyler.” You teased him, resting a hand on your hip as you gave him a stern look. “I just didn’t think she was going to want a sibling, she loves having all the attention.” He sighed, “plus my baby is too little to want another baby in the house.” He pouted dramatically. Ah, the real reasoning coming out. “Yeah, but you always said you wanted more kids, and you know I would be happy with a full house, so.” You trailed off, kind of disappointed by his lackluster reaction. “You still want to have more kids right?” You asked when he didn’t speak, finally locking your eyes on his. “Yes, of course.” He rushed, “after the wedding?” He offered, seeing your smile turn up, “really?” You gasped like a child. You wrapped your arms around his neck, “I don’t want you to think I don’t want more babies with you.” He smirked, kissing your pouted lips, “I was just so caught off guard.” He admitted honestly, his normal attitude coming back through.

You had to cut him some slack, thinking of how hard it was for him when Willow’s mom was pregnant, she didn’t want him involved in anything he wasn’t able to be apart of it up until the last second, it was like a switch flipped and suddenly she decided she wasn’t fit to raise a baby. As selfish as it sounds, you were so grateful for how it turned out, because at the end of the day you knew she was getting the best life possible with you and Tyler.

“Me too, honestly, I’m surprised she hasn’t asked how the baby gets in a woman’s stomach.” You quipped, Tyler groaned, “I can’t even think about that.” He muttered in defeat, kissing the side of your head. When he pulled away, you had a giddy smile on your face, “what?” He asked you suspiciously. “I can’t wait to have a baby with you.” You admitted, watching his nerves melt away. You knew Tyler, and you knew he was a worrier, even if he didn’t voice it, right now he was probably running over every horror story he’s heard about complicated pregnancies. “God you’re gonna look so beautiful.” He muttered, a glint in his eyes, you knew then, that it was all going to be ok, even if he was a nervous wreck. Which part of you thought he would be.

***

You stood by the window of your bridal suite, dressed in your gown and veil, one of the photographers getting photos of you looking out, coincidentally, in the open garden below you, Tyler was doing his first look with Willow, something the photographer had brought up to you, and you jumped on it. Those pictures would be cherished forever, Tyler really didn’t know what Willow was going to be dressed in, but you watched as he turned around and saw his little girl, who didn’t look so little, in a dusty rose colored dress, long lace sleeves and a nice puffy skirt, per her request. Her curls tamed beautifully for once as she actually let the hair stylist apply some products to them. Your grin was wide as he gasped, looking at her and she bounced over to him, you could see her mouth moving and you could only imagine how she was rambling on and on about her dress. A habit he swears she picked up from you.

“Y/N? You ready to head down?” Your maid of honor, your best friend Y/F/N asked, giving you a once over. You smoothed out your dress once more, looking down at the trumpet style gown. “Yeah.” You sniffled, fanning at your face. You and Tyler opted not to do a first look, you wanted to see his genuine reaction as you walked down the aisle. “You look stunning.” She assured you, lightly dabbing under your eyes with a tissue, the sound of the camera going off in the background.

As you reached your spot just behind the double doors, any nerves you had melted away, Tyler, the love of your life, was right on the other side of this wall, prepared to say I do to a lifetime with you.

Tyler’s father was walking you down the aisle, neither of your parents here to do it. As he approached, you smiled, hoping Tyler’s reaction would be similar to his dad’s. You’d grown close with his family over the years, they truly loved you, and it showed as his dad grabbed your hand, kissing the top of it as he smiled tearfully. “I’ll never really know how Tyler managed to snag you up, but he could have never made a better choice.” He explained, voice shaking before he cleared his throat. “Let’s get this show on the road.” He broke the silence, chuckling at himself as you looped your arm with his, holding your bouquet with the other.

The wedding March began to play, and the doors were pushed open, revealing you and Paul standing there. Instantly Tyler looked to the ceiling, his eyes watering already, the smile on his face was undeniable as you walked towards him slowly, your own eyes glazed over at the way he was looking at you. “Gorgeous.” He mouthed, your lips parting in a smile, he loved when he got those smiles out of you, the ones where the corners of your eyes would crinkle, and sometimes you would even scrunch your nose a bit. This was definitely one of those moments.

***

The wedding had come and gone, your honeymoon too, a simple trip with just the two of you before the hockey season started again. “Daddy.” Willow whispered, standing on his side of the bed, he stirred, blinking his eyes a couple of times to adjust to the darkness of the room. He turned his lamp on, “what’s wrong baby?” He asked softly, careful not to wake you as he caressed Willow’s face, frowning at the tears coating it. “I had a bad dream.” She whimpered, “come here.” He huffed as he pulled her up onto the bed. “Wanna tell me what happened?” He asked her, turning the lamp off as he let her cuddle with him. “No, just cuddles.” She mumbled sleepily, his heart swelled in his chest at that, “always, princess.” He sighed, kissing the top of her head as she easily laid on top of him, her teddy bear snuggled between them. You flipped over carefully, having woken up during their little conversation. Tyler gave you a tired smile as you placed a kiss on his shoulder before resting back on your pillow, a smile on your face as you listened to her light breathing.

As morning came you groaned in annoyance, morning sickness coming right along with it.

That’s right, you two had no trouble getting pregnant apparently, today was actually the day you were going to tell Willow about the baby. “Is mommy sick?” Willow asked Tyler as they woke up to you bolting out of bed, he held back a chuckle, “no, she’s ok.” He assured her, “stay here.” He demanded gently before coming to check on you as you brushed your teeth. “Hi babe.” He placed a kiss on your cheek, “doing ok?” He asked softly, locking eyes with you in the mirror. “Yeah,” you sighed, leaning into his hold after you rinsed your mouth out. “Are you ready to tell her?” You asked eagerly, “god, yes.” He groaned, giving you a quick kiss.

Willow was sitting in the middle of the bed, adjusting the bow on her teddy bear's head. “Good morning, baby.” You chuckled, sitting beside her, she shot you a smile, just like Tyler’s as she crawled into your lap. “Don’t forget miss bows.” She mumbled with a pout, Tyler snickered as you took the bear and placed a kiss on its head, “good morning, miss bows.” You spoke dramatically, Willow snuggling happily into you. “Hey, Willow.” Tyler spoke softly, sitting beside you, “guess what?” He smiled at her, she sat up a little straighter, “what?” She asked cutely, you shared a look with Tyler. “We’re gonna have a baby.” You told her, relief hitting you as she jumped up screaming in excitement. “A baby?!” She squealed. You quickly pulled out your phone to record her, sending it to Tyler’s parents. “When?” She asked giggling, sitting crossed legged in front of you both. “Oh, it’s still going to be a few months honey.” You explained sweetly, “but you’re going to be a big sister, that means you can help me and mommy get stuff ready for the baby.” Tyler assured her, wanting her to feel involved and not like the baby was going to completely take over.

The months started flying by, you were having a little boy, Tyler thought he wanted another daughter, which of course he would have been just as excited for, but when he heard it was a boy, you could see the way his eyes lit up. Willow had been a little upset at first, wanting a little sister that she could do all her fun girly things with as she got older, but after some long conversations and some explanations, you convinced her of all the reasons it would be fun for her to have a brother.

Tyler was more than nervous as your water broke in the middle of the night, of course you’d thought ahead and had spoken to Tyler’s mom, who had been staying with you guys for about a week, to be here and help with Willow once you had the baby. He swears that your labor went on forever, but really, you’d gotten lucky and progressed quickly. Nearly missing the window to get the epidural, which terrified you, but you got it, and now you had a very healthy, chunky little eight pound baby boy. Much to everyone’s surprise, everyone expected him to be smaller, but you weren’t complaining.

“Oh my god.” You cried out as they put him on your chest, his screams filling the room, it felt like an eternity until he began to cry, but he was sure to make up for it.

“I can’t believe we made him.” Tyler mumbled, unlike Willow, Hunter was born with next to no hair. “I know.” You whispered, running your finger across his chubby cheek, he was peacefully sleeping in your arms, already a hungry baby, having drunk himself right to sleep. “I hope he looks like you.” Tyler muttered, lightly kissing the side of your head, a smile graced your lips, “I hope he looks like you.” You giggled, “but I kind of don’t, because then all the girls will be after him when he’s a teenager.” You added, your husband chuckling beside you. “Let’s worry about his first night home, yeah?” He laughed softly. “Willow is going to be so excited.” You sighed, lacing your fingers with Tyler’s.

***

“Mommy, daddy!” Willow rushed over when you walked in, Tyler having the car seat around his arm. “Hi, sweet girl.” You welcomed her hug, kneeling to her height. “Were you good for grandma?” You asked gently, she nodded eagerly before moving over to hug Tyler once he placed the car seat down. “Hi princess.” He grinned, hugging her tightly, “I missed you.” He kissed the top of her head, laughing as she completely disregarded his comment and looked at Hunter in awe. “He’s so pretty.” She gasped, making you and Jackie both laugh. “He really is a beautiful baby, honey.” Jackie spoke to you, giving you a gentle hug. Tyler moved the car seat up to the table, shushing Willow as he assured her she would get to hold him. “Go wash your hands.” Jackie instructed her, walking over to Tyler as he easily held the newborn in his hands. She kissed her son's cheek before grabbing Hunter’s hand, “hello beautiful boy.” She cooed, running her thumb over his arm. “You did good.” She commented to Tyler, lightly nudging his side, he shot her a smile, “yeah.” He agreed, glancing at you.

“Can I hold him, please, please?” Willow begged, running out with freshly washed hands, you nodded, “go sit on the couch, I’ll bring him to you.” You instructed her softly, she giggled and ran off to the couch, you gently took Hunter from Tyler, “oh, Jackie did you want to hold him fi–“ “No, no, let Willow do it first, she’s just so excited.” Jackie cut you off mid ramble. You smiled in relief, slowly walking over to the couch, Tyler came and sat next to her, he put a pillow on her lap, and had her put arms out on it. “You have to be really gentle, ok?” He told her as he put his arms around her, his hands offering extra support for the baby’s neck. You laid Hunter down, smiling as Willow cooed down to him, “hi baby brother.” She giggled, looking over at you and then to Tyler. “Mommy,” she mumbled as you sat next to them, Tyler picking the baby up as he began to fuss, “I love him.” Willow concluded in the most serious voice. “I love him too.”

***

Hunter gurgled up at you as you dressed him in sweatpants, now two months old, and all of you were missing Tyler as he just had his first away game of the season. You left him shirtless, a pun at how Tyler always walked around the house in his pajamas, “mommy, I wanna match.” Willow pouted, you looked at her in thought for a moment, knowing you couldn’t let her run around in only pants, even if it was only in the house. “Oh, I have an idea.” You grinned, scooping the baby up and going into the back of the closet, where most of Tyler’s old shirts were. “Come here baby!” You called, Willow came bouncing in, one of your fondest memories as a child was wearing your dad's old shirts as pajamas, so why not pass it on to her. “Pick one to wear.” You told her, smiling as she got all excited, flipping through them, she pulled two down off the hangers, “where this one mommy, please.” She gave you her puppy eyes, not that she had to. You nodded, taking the shirt from her and going into the bathroom to change into it, leaving your shorts in underneath.

A loud laugh fell from your lips as you walked out and saw her drowning in his shirt, but there was nothing more adorable. “Come here, let me get a picture.” You made Willow lay on the bed, and put Hunter next to her, you wanted to send the picture to him, but you’d rather him be surprised by your outfit choices for the night. “Hello!” Tyler called from downstairs, Willow giggled carefully moving away from Hunter, “careful, hold the shirt up so you don’t fall!” You called as she took off out of the room, her response faded out as she bounced down the steps, you following with Hunter curled up in your arms. “Hey baby!” You heard Tyler gasp, “what do you think you’re wearing?” He questioned her, lifting her up into his arms. “We missed you so much, we figured why not dress up as you.” You explained, making him look up and see you in one of his shirts and Hunter in little grey sweatpants, Tyler threw his head back in laughter, “are you surprised?” Willow asked him, arms clasped around his neck, he hummed in agreement as he kissed her cheek before coming over to you. “Hi.” He whispered before pecking your lips.

“Hi.” You repeated, smiling as he pulled away, Willow wiggled her way down to the ground, allowing him to take Hunter from you. “Hey bud, looking good.” He mumbled kissing across his chubby cheeks. “And mama, as beautiful as ever.” He winked over at you. He smirked when you rolled your eyes with a smile, “movie night!” He declared, bolting up the stairs with Hunter to go change. You chuckled as you ordered pizza, deciding to make it a fun simple night. You knew that it wouldn’t always be like this, but you knew that whatever life through at you, you two could make it work.

“You know, I’ve got all I could ever want right here.” Tyler mumbled as you sat curled up on the couch with two sleeping kids on your laps. “Me too, Ty.”

taglist: @boqvistsbabe @tortito @2manytabsopen @heybarzy @barzysreputation @yzas-stuff @iwantahockeyhimbo @calgarycanuck @myhockeyworld87 @shortstacks-blog @mymanshawn @calgarycanuck @pagirl6866 @chronosarcheron

#tyler seguin #dallas stars #nhl fic #Tyler seguin imagine #Tyler seguin fic #Tyler seguin imagines

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skellebonez · 3 years

Note

How about #6 and 73 for that part of Winterpower's cursed au where Macaque 'asks' Jin and Yin to work for him? - Pixel Anon

Ooooh, an excuse to write the twins? Heck yeah, I'll take that! Hey @winterpower98 here's another Cursed Au fill, I hope you like my take on how this scene could have gone down.

Let’s make a deal shall we?/You’re putting an awful lot of trust in them.

In retrospect, perhaps messing with one of the people that seemed to hang around the Six-Eared Macaque and Monkie Kid on a more than semi-regular basis wasn't the best idea for a fun afternoon. Yin had managed to get out of the scuffle unscathed at the time (except for his pride), but that wasn't exactly the case at the moment...

It happened pretty quickly, they hadn't even been hiding when Macaque got the jump on them. Both Jin and Yin had tried to fight, knowing that if he made chase with actual intent they would be found fast, but of course they were no match for someone who was equal to Sun Wukong himself. He'd centered most of his assaults on Yin, probably because of the aforementioned fun afternoon, and it took little time for him to gain the upper hand he was looking for. For his part Jin looked like he was ready and willing to drop kick the monkey currently holding Yin by the horn and throat. He probably would have too, if he wasn't worried that Macaque would be fast enough to actually hurt Yin even more before he would be able to land a blow. Instead he grit his teeth, looking angrier than Yin had ever seen him before in their lives.

"Fine!" Jin yelled, clutching his fist. "Fine, what do you want from us?"

Macaque looked between the two, smirking more than a little wide. Yin knew he had really messed up when he saw Macaque come to Mei's aid, but nothing had scared him more than him looking victorious.

"Alright," Macaque growled out, a half chuckle following quickly. "Now, you both better listen to me."

"Hard not to when you're right next to my fa-ACH!" Yin yelped as Macaque yanked on his horn. "Right, sorry, listening. Listening really good!"

"Good," Macaque said, smirk lowering into something less victorious and more 'I have won and you know it', if that made any sense to anyone not one of the Gold and Silver Demons. "Let's make a deal, shall we?"

"What kind of deal?" Jin asked after a pause, watching the hand still around Yin's throat cautiously. "You want us to do something for you?"

"Work for me."

"Work!?" "For you!?" Jin and Yin said in tandem, staring at the much more powerful demon as he let up on his grip on Yin's throat, but not his horn. That he kept in a very tight hold.

"I have my reasons," Macaque explained preemptively, though it wasn't much of an explanation at all really. The twins decided in a look at each other it was best not to question it for the moment. "It won't be particularly hard work, either. You do a few things for me every once in a while, like keeping an eye on the Monkie Kid and not fighting him or his friends." The last part was said darkly, like a very thinly veiled threat.

Oh yeah, Yin had struck a nerve apparently. Oh boy... the rumors about Macaque being close to the Monkie Kid were no joke after all.

"And uh... what's in it for us?" Jin chanced to ask. It was only common sense, to ask what you could get in return for a job after all.

"How about you don't go home with a missing horn each?" Macaque growled with his smirk back in full force, sending a shudder down Yin's back. "But, to be fair... Wouldn't it be worth it to say you have the Six-Eared Macaque on your side? Among other things."

And that gave the twins pause. Sure, the threat was one thing. But... if word got round that they had it in good with the Six-Eared Macaque... and this would be a perfect excuse to implement Calabash 2.0 (now without the Calabash itself needed). They'd had plans to just mess with MK but hands on experience messing with him? Free of any real danger since he was also in good with Macaque? Well, that sounded like a good time just handed to them on a silver platter!

Step 1: Join Macaque. Step 2: Mess with Monkie Kid.... they still didn't have a step 3.

Yeah, it was a little weird but that was their hobby at the moment!

Not to mention those... other things.

"You know what? OK," Yin answered first, taking the initiative over his elder brother. "We'll take the deal."

----------

"Hey, MK!" Yin smiled as he wrapped one arm around shorter human's shoulder. "Why the glum face? Aren't you happy, kid?"

"You get to hang out with us!" Jin chimed in, wrapping his arm around the other shoulder.

"Not really..." MK muttered, for all the world looking like the very uncomfortable middle to a Gold and Silver Demon Sandwich.

Macaque watched on from the roof of a nearby building, more than ready and willing to jump in and kick the twin's asses if need be. But so far nothing had been too bad. It honestly... lifted a little bit of tension off his shoulders that he hadn't realized was weighing him down so harshly. Not by much, but noticeable enough.

Noticeable enough especially when someone else's weight replaced it around his shoulders.

"Peaches," Macaque greeted softly.

"Macaque," Wukong returned less softly, watching the mismatching trio as they met up with a very excited Mei. "You're putting an awful lot of trust in them. That's-"

"Odd, I know," Macaque agreed, watching as Mei punched Yin hard enough in the shoulder to knock him over and rush to his side to help him up. It seemed his assumption that she would take to them in her own way wasn't far off. "You don't have to tell me that. And I don't trust them completely."

Not yet. Maybe never.

But it was better to have more demons on their side than against them.

#i legitimately could not tell which twin was in that one monotone art piece #so i winged it #monkie kid #lego monkie kid #gen fic #cursed au #six eared macaque #jin and yin #mk #qi xiaotian #mei #long xiaojiao #monkey king #sun wukong #prompt fill

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nctsjiho · 3 years

Text

How Haechan And JiHo’s Friendship Evolved Over The Years [Part 1]

[2015 | First Meeting | SM Artist Lounge, 2nd floor]

“Is this really necessary?” Jiho groaned whilst getting pushed out of the elevator by Doyoung. “Didn’t you say you don’t have many friends?” “I said in school! I don’t have many friends in school!” Jiho explained agitated. “It doesn’t matter, it’s too late to turn around.”

Doyoung then pushed open the door to SM’s private lounge where 4 boys sat talking to each other on the big couch. “Kids! This is Jiho, she’s also a 00 liner.” The four boys looked up to see Doyoung holding a girl in front of him by her shoulders. They quickly greeted the pair and then expectantly looked at Jiho for her to talk.

“My Korean... uhm, not so good.” She held her hands up in a cross while butchering her Korean pronunciation. The four boys - Mark, Donghyuck, Jeno and Jaemin - smiled awkwardly at her nodding their heads.

Before Mark could say: “It’s okay. Don’t worry.” Doyoung pushed the girl by her shoulder causing her to laugh. “Yah! Why are you like this?” Jiho looked up once more and bowed towards the four confused boys. “I was just kidding. Hi, I’m Jiho. Nice to meet you guys.” She waved and showed the boys a genuine smile which they quickly returned. The boys were relieved and laughing at the girl’s little joke.

“I thought it would be nice for you guys to get to know each other. Jiho’s pretty new and she has a hard time befriending the other girl trainees.” Jiho raised her brow listening to Doyoung’s explanation. “I don’t think that’s necessarily true but-” “If you see her around, don’t be afraid to say hi to her. She’s really nice. Most of the time.” Doyoung mumbled the last sentence this time earning a judging look from the younger girl.

Mark then stood up, motioning for the others to do so as well. “We actually have to go to practise right now, but we’d love to hang out in the future.” Mark said and Jiho nodded with a smile. “That’s fine, I’ll see you around.” She waved while the boys walked off.

Doyoung then quickly nudged the girl, urging her to tell the boys the thing she told Doyoung earlier. “Uh- Wait!” The four boys turned around to see Jiho push Doyoung’s elbow away from her side. “I actually saw you guys practise and you’re all really good dancers...” She mumbled, her fingers curling into her palms. Doyoung one again poked the girl’s side. “Also Donghyuck-ssi, I really like your voice. You’re a great singer.” She smiled and looked up to meet the boy’s gaze. His cheeks slightly flared up and he bowed his head, muttering a small thanks before they all left the room.

Jiho glared at the older boy who seemed very proud of himself. “Thanks. Now things are going to be very awkward thanks to you.” “Ah~ No problem, loved to help you.”

[2016 | Snack Shuttle | SM Practise Room ]

“When you said you’d find a way to hang out more during your busy schedule, I didn’t know I’d become your personal snack shuttle.” Doyoung walked into the practise room with a complaining Jiho by his side, holding a few white plastic bags. “I thought you wanted to hang out more?” “If this is what ‘hanging out’ is than I don’t think I’m that interested anymore.”

Johnny’s chuckles filled the room and everyone looked at him. “You start to sound like actual siblings more each time I see you together.” Doyoung and Jiho then shared a look of disgust before turning back to sorting the snacks.

“Oppa told me what all of you guys liked so I brought something for everyone.” The boy’s eyes lit up as they thanked Jiho and ran towards her and Doyoung who were still holding on to the bags.

After giving everyone what they wanted Jiho held up one more item in her hand. “Did someone ask for this snack?” Jiho asked the room holding the bag of chips up high. Doyoung took a closer look, inspecting the bag but shook his head just like the rest of the room. “I didn’t, but I know Haechan likes these.” Jiho’s eyes locked with Haechan and she held the bag out for him to take. “Jiho I thought you liked those too.” Doyoung added quickly, earning a shrug from the girl.

“Want these?” She asked the same aged boy who’s eyes had widened a bit. “You don’t have anything for yourself though, you can keep them.” Haechan carefully said but the girl just shook her head and pushed the snack into Haechan’s hands. “I have a weigh-in in 2 days. So I’ll pass this time.” A fake smile found its place on her lips and Yuta stood up to wrap an arm around her shoulders. “You’re literally tiny, why should you worry about that?” “The world is a cruel place oppa.” She sighed to which he chuckled.

Mark quickly slid his way over to Haechan and nudged the boy a few times. “How are you still this awkward around Jiho?” The older of the two stifled a laugh. “Hyung~” Haechan whined. “It’s not like that.” He added with a grumble. “Okay buddy, whatever you say.”

[2017 | Dinner Buddies | SM cafeteria]

On his way to the table where his hyungs were already eating, Haechan stopped to watch a scene unfold in front of him.

The doors to the elevator had just opened revealing a dishevelled Jiho, still wearing her school uniform, stumble into the hallway of the cafeteria. Just as she entered she spotted the other trainees walk past her. “Hey!” She held up her hand smiling towards the girls, they all stopped hesitantly and Haechan couldn’t help but catch the way some of them rolled their eyes.

“Are you already leaving? I thought we’d eat together?” Jiho smile was still plastered on her lips, seeming oblivious to the cold looks she was getting. “We already finished, you can go eat alone. See ya~” One of the older girls smirked waving at Jiho and the other girls quickly followed before they all walked away.

A deep sigh left the Jiho’s lips and her head and shoulders dropped significantly. However when two feet walked into her vision she perked up and found Haechan looking at her with a sad smile. “You saw that right?” She chuckled, trying to hide her embarrassment and he only nodded. “I guess I’ll just head out now and don’t worry, I’m used to it. That one girl really doesn’t like me.” She tried to laugh off and then turned to leave the cafeteria.

Haechan stopped her. “You haven’t eaten yet though. Come sit with us. Me and the hyungs just got here.” Jiho smiled at the offer and quickly accepted. With how hungry she was feeling she didn’t feel like taking the bus back home for 15 minutes before she could actually eat.

Not even a few moments later Haechan arrived back at the table his members were sitting, but to their surprise he was joined by the young trainee. “Jiho? What are you doing here?” Taeyong asked. “I got ditched by the other girls.” She explained and the group quickly invited her to sit down with them.

The youngest boy sat down in his original spot next to Mark and in front of Johnny and Jaehyun who all sent him teasing looks. “What?” He raised an eyebrow at the boys. “Seems like you and Jiho are getting closer.” Jaehyun hummed. “Yeah, you seemed to be having a fun conversation before you got here.” Mark mentioned, thinking of how Haechan and Jiho were laughing at something when they walked up to the table. “You guys are so annoying.” Haechan mumbled, shoving a spoonful of rice into his mouth.

[2018 | Better Girl | SM library]

Haechan dragged his feet down the hallway of the almost empty floor. It was the beginning of January so not a lot of people were working, and definitely not a lot of artist. This resulted in the, mainly artist floor to be as good as abandoned.

The poor boy was “tasked” by Mark to get him one of his notebooks which he had forgotten during his writing session with Jeno. Haechan really didn’t have to go right now, but he insisted since it meant Mark would have to buy him dinner. Yet here Haechan was, slouching and dragging his body to the right room as if he was forced against his will.

Upon opening the door he heard a soft giggle. “Oh, I’m sorry- Jiho?” He peeked his head inside finding Jiho sat at one of the tables with her phone in hand. She had her jacket tightly wrapped around her shoulders and her nose and cheeks seemed to glow the slightest tint of red. The heater in the room wasn’t on so it was freezing cold. “What are you doing here?”

Jiho looked up at the boy but the second she locked eyes with his she almost burst out laughing. “You make a better girl than I do.” She said, forcing herself to stop laughing. “What are you talking about?”

Curious about what Jiho meant he circled around the other tables so he could look over to what she was watching on her phone. “Ten oppa sent this to me.” She tilted her phone towards Haechan only for him to get hit by memories. He didn’t expect to get confronted by that red polka dot dress and long brown wig again. “OH MY GOD! Please stop watching that!” He reached for her phone and quickly turned the video off while Jiho was freely laughing.

Once the boy was calmed down he let himself fall onto the chair next to Jiho. “This is so embarrassing” He muttered into his arms, in which he was hiding his face. Jiho reached out her hand to pat the boy’s back.

“Don’t worry about it. People say I dress more like a boy, so there’s nothing wrong with wearing a dress when you’re not a girl.” She smiled. Haechan looked up, hoping that Jiho was being serious, but when he saw her trying to hide a smirk he groaned. “For real, you didn’t look too bad, if I do say so myself.”

This caused Haechan to look up and smile as well. “Yeah, I looked pretty good right?” He said in a cocky way prompting Jiho to chuckle. “You looked fabulous.” She complimented in an exaggerated tone. The two then shared a big wordless smile before they went on to do their own things again.

---

PART 2

Side Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY HAECHAN 🌻☀🐻

idk if you guys mind long posts, I just decided to cut it here and do 2018-2021 (post JiHo’s debut) in a second post to keep the length of all my posts on my blog similar. It’s possible though that part 2 is going to be a bit long, since I don’t know how much I’ll be writing for it

fun fact: I save my little collages (btw those photo’s of Haechan are soooo pretty i’m getting bias wrecked SO hard) on my laptop with the member x JiHo’s shipnames, I suck at choosing shipnames tho. So Haechan and JiHo’s shipname is HyuckHo atm, which I both hate and think is kinda cute/funny at the same time. I also thought about JiChan, JiHae or HaeJi but idk

that was just a little unnecessary insider information

I hope you have a good day/evening/night!! <3

#jiho.guide #nct 24th member #nct addition #nct female member #nct imagines #nct extra member #nct additional member #nct female addition #nct haechan fluff #nct haechan imagines #kpop!addition #kpop!oc

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themand0lorian · 3 years

Text

Sunflower (Your Love Would Be Too Much)

Summary: A Thursday tradition turns into something more.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader (no Y/N)

Rating: G (Tooth Rotting Fluff)

Words: ~2000 (Read on AO3)

Tags: literally just fluff, gratuitous use of flowers and art, part of the Impression, Sunrise universe! Occurs between the final chapter of the series and the “one year later” epilogue! The place they go is based on a real exhibit, here!

Notes: Part of my 300 follower celebration! Also title is from Sunflower by Post Malone!

“Ugh! I hate Thursdays,” you groan, throwing your head down on the table in the FBI cafeteria. You and Marcus often ate lunch together here, a small table in the back your go-to spot for chaste hand-holding as you both scarfed down pre-prepared meals between meetings.

“What did Thursdays ever do to you?” Marcus chuckles around a chip, and you grab one out of the bag and munch on it before answering, crumbs exiting your mouth.

“Well I have meetings all morning, and the intern doesn’t work on Thursdays, so I don’t have any help with my investigations, and you always get home late on Thursdays, and the cafeteria always sells bologna sandwiches on Thursdays like we’re 5 years old—" Marcus pauses his chewing of the white bread and processed meat for you to continue. “—It’s just not my favorite.”

“So, I take it you don’t want the other half of my sandwich, then?” he jokes, and you scoff again, collapsing dramatically into the table as he laughs. Your lunch continued with chatter--sometimes about the job, sometimes about the kids, today, about the disgusting manufacturing process of bologna—but, as always, ended with a kiss on your forehead in the elevator as you made your way to your separate floors, Marcus yelling a “Hope your Thursday gets better!” as he steps off.

That night, Marcus had brought home a single sunflower, handing it to you with a broad smile.

“For my sunshine,” he insisted, and suddenly, Thursdays didn’t seem so bad.

That was the start of a tradition in the Pike household, one that took you an embarrassingly long time to parse. Every Thursday, Marcus would walk in a bit later than usual, holding a singular sunflower, always “For his sunshine.” At first you thought it was just Marcus’ hopeless romantic side, stopping to buy flowers on his way home from work, but after 3 weeks and 3 Thursday sunflowers, the routine changed.

A typical Thursday, rushing in for your early meeting with the higher ups; Eli had been cranky after a nightmare kept him awake, you and Marcus barely making it in on time as the boy dragged his feet. You were ready to throw down your bag and laptop and run to the conference room when you stop dead in your tracks. In the middle of your desk is a single sunflower, a sticky note stuck underneath.

☼

-M.P.

At lunch that day, you stuck the note on the table in front of Marcus, who had already settled with his bologna sandwich. He only let out a smirk at the sight.

“Marcus, I love the flowers, but what’s the deal? Did I forget an anniversary or a birthday or something?” you ask almost jokingly, knowing the answer is no, but wanting an explanation.

“No, of course not. You said Thursdays were your least favorite day. I just want to make them better,” he said through a smile, half hidden by the white bread in his hands. You narrowed your eyes at him, grasping the sticky note from the table to put it in your pocket for safe keeping. Your heart was about to burst from your love for this man, but unable to convey it properly, you only blushed into your bologna. His love was almost too much, so all-consuming you could practically feel it physically; but you dove in headfirst, returning it all the same.

So that was the start of the Thursday Sunflowers; every Thursday, without fail, a sunflower made its way to you. Sometimes in your car or on your desk, sometimes hand-delivered after work, sometimes even crushed between Eli or Grace’s hands, Eli conspiratorially looking to Marcus and parsing his lips like he might burst when you asked the origin. Somehow, Marcus continued to find new locations, one making its way into the shower, one showing up on your doorstep when he was away for a bust; a sunflower for his sunshine.

As awful as it sounded, though you enjoyed your weekly flower, you were almost used to the little token every week; so one Thursday, when it didn’t appear in the refrigerator at breakfast, in Eli’s backpack when you packed his things, on your office chair when you got to your desk, you felt a little confused. You spent most of the morning on the lookout for bright yellow petals; winter had turned DC dreary, and your eyes were peeled for a little sunshine. After spending half the day searching, you put on a pleasant face for this week’s bologna sandwich lunch with Marcus, not wanting to make him feel bad about potentially forgetting.

Of course, he hadn’t—by the time you entered the hallway toward cafeteria, Marcus was standing at the entrance, sunflower in hand and a broad smile across his face. He toyed with it between his fingers as you approached, before handing it to you with a kiss on the cheek.

“I was starting to think you forgot,” you joke, and he looks at you like you wounded him.

“Never! C’mon,” he pulls your hand, leading you away from the cafeteria and toward the exit.

“What are you doing? It’s the middle of the day, we can’t just leave,” you retort, still following in his footsteps as you question him. He holds up your winter coat; you have no idea how he even got it from your desk, but he helps you put it on, answering you.

“Actually, we can. I talked to your boss—you have the rest of the day off. Carson’s going to pick up the kids from daycare, and they have dinner at Lisa's tonight. I want to show you something,” he explains quickly, leading you to his car. You raise an eyebrow in suspicion, but knowing Marcus, this was just another romantic date he had planned without you realizing.

You spend the drive asking questions, trying to figure out where you’re going as he winds through DC streets. You’re pretty sure he’s trying to throw you off, doubling back on yourselves, which only makes you more suspicious. You twirl the flower absently, nervous to face the unknown, but Marcus reaches a hand across the console to intertwine with yours, and you know you trust him with your whole heart.

“Is this where you murder me?” you joke when he parks in front of a large, nondescript warehouse. There are no other cars around, no signs showing where you are—realistically, it looks like a location for one of your perps, not an ideal date spot. He only laughs, encouraging you to leave your flower in the car as he guides you inside.

The inside is completely empty, save for a few chairs, and everything is painted completely black; the walls, ceiling, floors. You look to Marcus nervously, but he looks excited, leading you to two chairs in the middle of the cavernous room.

“Marcus, this is a weird art exhibit,” you offer sarcastically, and he laughs again.

“Just wait.” As soon as your settled in your chairs, soft instrumental music begins to play, and the overhead lights turn off, plunging the room into solid darkness. Instinctively, your arm shoots to Marcus, grasping his hand in the dark with a gasp at the sudden change. He brings it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles as the wall in front of you starts to alight. Suddenly, there are swirling colors everywhere; the walls, the floor, the ceiling, are all in vivid technicolor, shifting and moving as the pictures delicately change in front of you. It’s unbelievably beautiful, and you recognize Starry Night coming into focus, looking to Marcus.

“What is this?” you ask in awe, eyes wide and glistening in the sheer beauty of the moving images. You aren’t looking at him, unable to take your eyes off the sky as it swirls, bringing the painting to life.

“An interactive Van Gogh exhibit. Opens tomorrow,” he says quietly, somewhat in awe himself; you don’t see that he’s only looking at you, experiencing the moving colors and shapes through the reflections on your skin. You watch as the walls continue to change, moving to different images and paintings slowly, fading in and out. Eventually, Marcus speaks again. “You can stand up, touch it. It’s interactive.”

You follow his instruction in a trance, your footsteps across the floor creating ripples in the picture as you walk toward the wall. The image changes again, brilliant oranges and yellows illuminating the entire room as you run your hand along the wall, saturating the image. It takes a moment for it to come into focus, shapes forming and reforming all around you as you try to take in each one, brown swirls rotating in the center, when you realize—it’s sunflowers.

You turn to look to Marcus, tell him of your find with a broad smile, but instead find him on the ground, one knee raised in the air, a small box in his hands. You hadn’t even heard him move, felt his presence, but there he was, staring at you from the ground, teary eyed and bathed in the yellow glow as he whispered your name.

“I—I know you don’t love art, but I—hope this is as beautiful to you as you are to me,” he starts, already choking up as your jaw hangs slack. Your hands have come to your face now, wiping tears and covering your mouth in shock as he speaks. “You know, when I thought the kids would go with Lisa, when I thought I’d lost you. I didn’t know if I would ever recover again; could ever love someone again. But you know what Eli said to me? When we said goodbye?” You raise your eyebrows at him, so he continues. “He asked, ‘Marcus, will you get married to her?’ and I said I didn’t know that you would want to get married to me. And he furrowed his little eyebrows like he does and said very seriously, ‘Marcus. Do the right thing,’” Marcus recalls with misty eyes and his best Eli impression, and you both chuckle. “So here I am. Doing the only thing I know is right. It took me a few tries, but I want to spend the rest of my life with you, to make our family official—I love you, with everything I am. Will you marry me?”

He opens the small box he had been fidgeting with to reveal a beautiful engagement ring. The pictures around you have stopped changing, staying on the ephemeral glow of the sunflowers, and the ring glistened in the golden light. But, realistically, you would have married Marcus with a piece of string; with nothing at all. You barely eke out a nod with a tear stained “yes” when he stands, taking your hand to slide it on your finger. Of course it’s a perfect fit, Marcus stealing one of your other rings weeks ago to have it sized, and you both let out a choked chuckle, relishing in the moment and the relief that has come with it. You look at the ring, then up to him as he crowds you, finally meeting his face for a teary, emblazoned kiss. His hands are holding you tight to him, yours thrown around his neck, and you hate to let go even a millimeter, but he pulls back to take a deep breath, and you do too.

“I love you so much, Marcus. You—this is too much,” you stutter, but he shushes you with another kiss.

“It’s never 'too much' for you.”

TAGS:@sugarontherims @ajeff855 @spideysimpossiblegirl @seasonschange-butpeopledont @imaginecrushes @giselatropicana @agingerindenial @supernaturalgirl @captain-jebi @lou-la-lou @pascalsimp @antisocialthat70sshow @dragcn-queen @sambucky21 @farfromjustordinary @fangirl-of-randomness @evelynseventyr @aquilacorvinal @uncle-kenobi @marydjarin @tanzthompson @elinedjarin @thewintersoldierswife @knowledgefulbutterfly @amneris21 @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @cinewhore @sarahjkl82-blog @ophelialoveshandsomemen @ksd24670 @rosiefridayrogersunday @evelynseventyr @ajeff855 @thewintersoldierswife @knowledgefulbutterfly @amneris21 @sarahjkl82-blog @hellovanessax @darling-din @rebel-fanfare

#impression sunrise #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x y/n #the mentalist #the mentalist fanfiction #the mentalist fanfic #marcus pike fanfic #marcus pike fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x reader #mand0lorian300 #sunflower

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theyarebothgunshot · 3 years

Note

[part 1/2]

Hi, I’ve fallen in the cockles dumpster years ago and I don’t know how to reach the surface anymore.

we can say I’m a newbie on your inbox and I just thought we could all tinhat a little bit about one of the things that sold me on cockles to be a real thing: honcon 2017.

Here’s the list of things I can’t find a platonic heterosexual explanation for:

(Funny but useless foreword, a few days before the con a fan tweeted a photo of a rainbow she saw when her flight land in honolulu and said she took it as a sign that was gonna be a gay weekend, and man she was right lol)

1- Misha flew to a hawaii on thursday just like all the other guests who were supposed to be at the con way before J2 did.

We know j2 stopped shooting the same day/the day after because on friday Jensen was spotted by a fan on a plane to honolulu even tho he was expected to be there on sunday.

while Jared preferred spending that bit of free time at home. (Gen posted a few instagram stories of jared and the kids in Texas.) Jensen went straight to misha instead.

Even tho at the previous con j2 talked about how the following weeks were going to be full of work commitments and between work and cons so close to one another they couldn’t see the families as much.

I’m not saying Jensen didn’t miss his wife and kid. He loves them and clearly meant it when he said he missed them so much. That’s why it was surprising seeing him join misha so early. I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say it was a planned trip to spend time together.

2- I think it’s positive to say he was there early for Misha and only misha since that night a fan took a picture with them at an hotel bar. She posted it on instagram and said it was just the two of them, then she had to put the account on private since too many people were asking questions.

It’s strange how we only got one photo of that night tho, they’re always super nice with fans when being approached and usually after the first brave soul finds the courage to ask everyone else follow through.

Again I think they clearly wanted to be alone that night. No fans no castmates.

Maybe they were celebrating something?

3- Then the panel happened.

We all remember Jensen showing us how bad his kink for misha’s weird accents have gotten, how cheerful and at ease they were on stage.

Even I could feel the love was in the air and I live on the other side of the ocean!

welcome to the dumpster, nonnie! i love all of this a lot. i *just* got your part two and i am putting it and my reaction under the cut!!

[part 2/2]

4 - Jensen also bought matching shirts for his friends. One black shirt for him and an identical one for his bro. But misha’s was red cause he knows him well enough to notice he never wears black shirts.

I mean Jensen has a history of showing affection through gifts, (I have a few examples on my mind but no time to write it all down now)

That was a nice thing to do.

5- Least but not last

THE DINNER STORY.

I don’t care if it’s been years I’m still not over how sweet that moment was.

The question was an easy generic one, It took misha less than two minutes to answer.

But then mr. 10 years. same bar, same table. same company. grabs the microphone and procede to share with us one the sweetest memory of Misha he got.

I mean it was so unexpected. Unlike Jared and Misha he’s careful about what he think is appropriate and what’s not.

In my mind it sounded like: “Listen I know it doesn’t answer your question but I’ve just spent a good weekend with this person right here, that I clearly love and care for, and I’m feeling soft, so let me tell you about how I realized I was whipped on him since our very first date”

Again I find it curious Jensen was reminiscing about how they first got together on that particular weekend.

The same one he decided to join misha early just to be with him.

That was one of the moments I realized there’s no way this is a platonic relationship.

Ok this turned out way longer than I expected.

I clearly miss jenmish so much I can’t stop blabber about them.

I’m sorry

Polaroid anon

first of all: don’t be sorry, i truly loved this because i felt like i was seeing the panel again in my minds eye while i was reading your message.

second of all: you are absolutely right about everything except for calling misha’s shirt red. it was orange, which is misha’s favorite color, which makes it even more special that jensen got that one for him.

i also think that jensen went there early just for mish, which is just. a lot. it reminds me of another con, where jensen could have gone home already but he waited for misha who had to do something else there the next day, and then two days later they were spotted together i think at the airport.

i 100% agree that the fact that jensen shared that story about one of their first dinners is very special and rare. especially because in the past, whenever somebody wanted to hear a story from them, they both never knew what to share (probably because of lot of their stories are not suitable to share tbh) and to me it almost felt like he really thought about what he could share and what he would feel comfortable with, after all those times where he just went ‘shit idk what to say’.

and what he shared just felt so romantic? like. the look on misha’s face when jensen was talking was also so soft, he was clearly thinking back on that moment. a moment they both remembered all those years later. i mean at that point they had known each other for nearly 10 years and they still remembered that one particular night. it made an impression on both of them. it was a date. and then to top it off jensen added that he thought to himself ‘but i think i love him a little bit more too’. wow.

see, no need to apologize for talking a lot, as i clearly do the same sjfhshf.

#anonymous #honcon was absolutely insane and we do not talk about it enough #polaroid anon

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whentheynameyoujoy · 4 years

Text

Yup, Sure Was a Finale

I had an epiphany. The reason why I never re-watched the final two parts of Sozin’s Comet even though I’ve popped in episodes at random many times over the years isn’t that I can’t bear the sadness of seeing one of the best, most engaging narratives out there come to an end.

It’s simply that the finale isn’t all that good.

Some honorable mentions of what was enjoyable.

(+) This

Just this.

(+) The Church of Zutara has another convert

“Are you sure they don’t get together?” Hubster, 2020

(+) The tragedy of Azula

And the fact that it’s acknowledged as such. I hope Zuko will do his best to get her help and have a relationship with her…

(+) Sokka being a big bro

And the whole airship sequence in general. It’s wonderfully paced and plotted, with moments of humor, real stakes, Toph being both badass and a scared crying kid, Sokka strategizing and protecting, Suki saving the day, and non-benders being instrumental in thwarting the bad guy firebender’s plans. Would be shame if Bryke never portrayed them this capable ever again…

And now for the main course.

(-) Blink and its over

The wrap-up feels too quick (hashtag Needs More ROtK-style False Endings). A part of this is due to how fast the story goes from the thick of the action to hastily tying up a bunch of loose ends, but the larger issue is how Book 3’s uneven pacing comes home to roost. After spending half a season on filler episodes that at best subtly flesh out established characters while dancing around a huge lionturtle-shaped hole, and at worst contradict the theme of “no one is born bad” with “you’re a hot mess because your great-grandfathers didn’t get along too well”, the frantic “go go go” rush of the second half screeches to a halt with “they won and everyone was happy because now the right people have power and it will be all good from now on yup nothing more to deal with baiiiii”.

Yes, I know, it’s a kids’ show. But goddamn, this particular kids’ show has proven so many times it can do better than the expected tropiness. Showing the characters in their roles as builders of a new world was the least that could have been done.

Oh well!

(-) Ursa

We’ll never know. There will never be a story that delves into this. Yup. Shall forever remain but an intriguing mystery. Is good, though. Mystery is better than a story where Ursa shares her son’s penchant for forgetfulness. Imagine how embarrassing that would be. Speaking of which…

(-) What does Mai see in this jerkbender?

Look, I like to harp a lot on the mess of inconsistent writing that’s Mai but let’s unpack this scene from her perspective, shall we?

Zuko forgot about her! It totally slipped his mind that the one person who prioritized the safety of his dumb ass was rotting in the worst prison in the Fire Nation—because of him! And she was rotting there long enough after the final Agni Kai for the news of Zuko’s upcoming coronation to spread and her uncle to feel sufficiently secure to release her. But then the coronation scene is attended by every single member of Gaang & Friends that was imprisoned?

So what this tells me is that either a) the invasion force had the ability to break themselves out the whole time and for some reason decided not to exercise it until after the war was over, b) Zuko forgot about them as well and no one thought to remind him there were prisons full of POWs until Mai arrived, or, and that’s even better, c) Zuko took care to free every single resistance fighter while making sure Mai would be the one to stay behind bars.

Never thought I’d say this but Mai? Honey? You deserve so much better.

(-) “What does Katara want?”

Asked no one in the writers’ room ever, apparently.

This is not so much anti Cataang as anti romance stories that pay attention to the needs, opinions, and wants of only one partner in general. Over the previous 60 episodes, Katara actively expressed romantic interest in Aang exactly, wait for it,

Once.

And it got retconned out of relevance by the following two interactions where the possibility of a romantic relationship came up, making the Headband dance pretty easy to reclassify as just one of those examples where Aang “teaches” Katara to have fun (as if one of the main obstacles to her having fun wasn’t him constantly fooling around and offloading his duties). And because the writers not only didn’t succeed in portraying Katara’s internal state of mind, but also failed to root her reluctance to pursue a relationship in outside circumstances that could change, her sudden state of unconfused once Aang steps into the spotlight has a single canonical explanation that as much as approaches coherency.

The fact is, though, that trying to interpret canon Cataang from a Watsonian perspective is an exercise in foolishness. Because there is no Watsonian justification for the ship and never has been. Bryke simply conceived of Katara as nothing but a tropey prize for Aang, never saw her as anything beyond that, and were perfectly happy to go on and immortalize her as a passive broodmare for the rest of her life.

And I fully intend to die mad about it.

(-) Iroh dips

OK, it’s been long apparent that the show doesn’t intend to do anything about Iroh’s complicity in AzulOzai’s regime in any meaningful way, and that his sole motivation for doing anything whatsoever is Zuko whom he views as a replacement son which is supposed to be good for some reason. But the finale has him abandon even that, and instead turns him full-on YOLO, idgaf anymore. It really throws Iroh’s supposed love for Zuko into doubt when his last act in the entire show is to take a half-educated 16-year old with no political savvy or an heir to secure a dynastic continuity and plomp him on the throne of a war-mongering imperialist regime where the entirety of the militarist and ruling class is guaranteed to fight him tooth and nail for power.

(I sure hope Mai’s ready to start popping out babies by tea-time otherwise the whole country is fukd in about a week)

Christ, how hard would it be to have Iroh keep the throne warm for a few years while Zuko is getting ready to succeed him? Not only would it make the whole FN reformation bit quite likelier to occur, it would require Iroh’s hedonistic ass to actually sacrifice something for once. And not having Zuko ascend to power, instead spending some time bettering and educating himself first, would be a wonderful message that no matter what you endured and overcame, you never stop growing. A kids’ show, remember?

(-) The conquering of Ba Sing Se

Gee, I feel so blessed to have my attention diverted from battlefields which actually matter to an old dude vanity project I would have been perfectly happy to assume resolved itself off-screen.

The White Lotus in general just bugs me. I was fine with the individual characters and their overall passivity when they were portrayed as lone dissenters living under circumstances where it wasn’t really possible for any single person to mount a meaningful resistance. But as members of a far-reaching shadowy organization that’s left the real fight to a bunch of kids for 59 episodes straight and didn’t turn up until a perfect opportunity presented itself to take control of the largest city in the world and bask in the spotlight?

Yeah, no.

Similarly to the lionturtle-ex-machina, the White Lotus represents a huge missed opportunity for a season-long storytelling. Here’s just a brief list of what they could have been doing throughout Book 3:

orchestrating a Fire Nation uprising;

gathering those directly persecuted by AzulOzai’s regime to help Zuko keep his hold on power once he’s crowned;

establishing themselves as a viable alternative to Ozai;

sabotaging Fire Nation’s war efforts from the inside;

countering Fire Nation propaganda (Asha Greyjoy’s pinecones, anyone?);

running a supply network to alleviate the suffering of Earth Kingdom citizens.

Instead, they sit on their asses until the time comes to claim personal glory.

You know what, good on Bryke for making me conclude that in comparison, the Freedom Fighters were perfectly unproblematic, actually.

(-) Fire Lord Dead-by-Dawn

Yes, a kids’ show, I know! But ffs, this is the same kids’ show that came up with Long Feng and portrayed courtly intrigue, kingly puppets, secret police, spy networks, and information wars. Was it really too much of me to expect something other than “enlightened despot solves everything”? Especially if said enlightened despot has persisting anger issues, no personal support system, no base of followers, and no political experience whatsoever?

If Zuko’s actually serious about regaining the Fire Nation’s honor (i.e. by dismantling the country’s military machine, decolonizing the Earth Kingdom, paying reparations to everyone and their lemur, and funding any and all cultural restoration projects Aang and the SWT come up with), then there is no way, no way in the universe that he doesn’t face a civil war, deposing, and execution within a month.

One reason why his future as a Fire Lord seems rather bleak is that little’s been shown about the actual subjects of AzulOzai’s regime. While we get a vague reassurance that “no Toph, they’re not born bad” (le shockings), they largely remain a voiceless uniform mass of brainwashed clapping seals. What is their view on the Fire Nation’s crimes? Do they associate their condition with their country’s war-mongering? How will they react when Zuko starts dismantling the country piece by piece to rebuild it, bringing it to economic ruin? What will they do when noble Ozai loyalists come out of the woodwork and begin rounding them up under the banner of “Make the Fire Nation Great Again?”

I have no idea, and Zuko doesn’t either because he’s unironically more qualified to rule the Earth Kingdom than his own people.

You know what would have been better? Fire Lord Iroh, White Lotus pulling the strings to maintain the regime, and Crown Prince/People’s Champion Zuko travelling the Fire Nation with Aang and an army of tutors to promote the new boss, only to realize that absolute monarchy is kinda crap for the people he’s one day supposed to rule and gaining their support by ceding some power to them.

I’d laser holes into my TV due to how much I’d enjoy watching that.

(-) All hail Avatar Rock

Literally and metaphorically. Aang doesn’t sacrifice anything, gets everything, and the clever solution of going about getting said everything is handed to him on a silver platter, requiring no active participation on his part whatsoever.

He doesn’t work to unblock his chakras, spiritually or physically.

He only speaks to his past lives to get a pat on the back and a bow-tied solution he could mindlessly follow.

Energy-bending doesn’t require any sacrifice from him, leaves no lasting marks, and only serves for the narrative to praise him as the rare individual that’s unbendable and thus so very very special.

The most infuriating thing is, however, that Aang is clearly shown as being able to beat Ozai without either the Avatar state, or energy-bending.

And he chooses not to. From this moment on, Aang no longer fights to save the world. He fights to preserve his beliefs, going directly against the instructions of his past lives and effectively reneging on his duties as the Avatar.

Again.

It’s not like you can’t portray Aang’s faithfulness to his spiritual beliefs as the key to beating Ozai and saving the world. But that’s not what the show did. There is no link between Aang sparing Ozai and securing a better future, quite to the contrary—Ozai’s survival ends up being a massive problem for the continuation of Zuko’s rule, and consequently a threat to the world at large. His survival benefits Aang and no one else.

Aang’s spiritual purity and his status as a savior of the world are allowed to coexist only due to a deliberate stroke of a writer’s pen.

And I hate it.

Welp, nothing to do about it now except to bury myself up to my tits in fix-it fics I guess.

#atla #atla rewatch #meta #zutara #anti bryke #anti-kataang #anti-aang #anti-maiko

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datawyrms · 3 years

Text

Responsibility

For Phic Fight 2021, The Lord of Chaos’s prompt c:

Spectra fed off of misery; nocturne fed off of dreams. The elusive town cryptid that only shows up when people need saving gains a following and Danny finds that he gets a boost from the people who have faith in him, he starts to become aware of them, especially when they needed him.

The rest of the town seeing him as benevolent was a positive thing. The uncomfortable stabs that his ‘parents were right’ about ghosts lessened as fewer and fewer treated him as a monster just as troublesome as Technus. He didn’t need to tense when the news was on, to hear his attempts to help called a ‘savage attack’, or that stupid nickname. He’d slept a bit easier, knowing that people did understand he only meant to help lately. Sure, Mom and Dad might still insist he was an evil ghost, but it was so much easier to ignore that when he didn’t feel he was only one step away from proving them right to everyone else. Clumsy and reckless he could take. Just as long as he wasn’t some ‘evil soul sucking abomination.’

Having Jazz a bit more in the loop had actually started to pay off. She wasn’t as good at catching a ghost as Sam or Tucker, sure, but she wasn’t hindering him anymore either. Honestly, if all three of them worked together, his powers weren’t really needed unless something huge found its way to town. Which his friends had insisted he take advantage of at least once a week, to let them handle the usual patrols and alerts while he tried to catch up on work and sleep. Mostly sleep, to be honest. Focusing on work was almost impossible when his ghost sense went off, even if he knew they didn’t need help. He wanted to go, he had to go; but they were very good at yelling at him for not ‘trusting them’ to handle things. He really did need the break. That’s why he was feeling a little less haggard, a bit more alert. At least, that’s what made the most sense.

Then the ‘lurching’ started. He couldn’t think of a better name then that. It wasn’t like his ghost sense, that sort of just crawled out of him and didn’t give him much to go on beyond ‘there’s definitely a ghost around’. That could go off and leave him rolling his eyes at the box ghost, or fighting for his life against Plasmius with the exact same feeling. The lurching was...different. Like his ghost sense forgot where his windpipe was and decided to escape in a random direction. Inssenantly. It didn’t hurt, but it was annoying, worse than the pang that would pass when he ignored whatever got his ghost sense acting up. It just kept pulling in a direction, but refusing to get out from under his skin. Sometimes it would keep going for an entire class, which just made whatever the lurch’s chosen direction noticeably cold. He was pretty sure he was immune to frostbite nowadays, but that didn’t make explaining things easier if someone spotted his hand looking almost blue from lack of blood flow.

Maybe his core was on the fritz again. Who knew what sort of weird things could happen to a human who spent half his time dead?

Tucker suggested that he was just getting ghost puberty to go with the ‘joys’ of human puberty. Which sure, was funny and they could shove each other around and forget about it for a time. It didn’t feel like the right answer. None of his other powers acted up, honestly he was feeling better after fights then he usually did lately. Less drained, anyway. It wasn’t stopping either.

It just got worse. More intense. More frequent. Instead of vanishing the area the lurch decided to pull in seemed to grow the longer he tried to dismiss it. Noticeably. To the point even Dash asked if he should avoid punching him because ‘that shit looks contagious’. (He privately hoped it was. Dash totally deserved weird pulling that made you frost over.)

He had to ignore it, he couldn’t just drop everything every single time the lurch decided to show up. He’d look completely off his rocker, running in some random direction because ‘my shoulder feels cold to the north-west’. If it was close enough to be a real danger, his ghost sense would just go off!

So Saturday was going to be a ‘lurch hunt’. No more ignoring it, no school or mandatory activities that should keep him from following the strange cold that felt desperate to go after something. Yet even deciding that made his insides squirm. He had to follow it, he should be- but that was dumb. He missed enough class as it was.

So why was it so hard to focus on anything else when it started going? Like nothing else mattered? It wasn’t like he was drifting off or sleepy either.

Jazz said he was ‘fixated’ on something.

But how do you fixate on some weird feeling under your skin? He didn’t even know what it was! Just that Sam and Tucker kept needing to flick things at him to get him to pay attention to reality. One of his best rested weeks in ages, and he was worse off then he’d been focus wise in years. Stupid ghost powers. Saturday took far too long to come. Even when one of the lurches stopped pulling he couldn’t relax. Instead of relief he just felt. Hollow. He’d woken up in a panic, half expecting to be chained down in one of Vlad’s sick laboratories, but he wasn’t cut open. He wasn’t even injured. Safe, in bed- and feeling like the cold ran off with his ribcage.

Something was wrong with him. That had to be it. Once they found the cause, he’d solve it and it would stop. It had to.

Following it shouldn’t make him feel as relieved as it did. Taking his ghost form and flying after some...feeling that wanted to drag him somewhere was more like when Freakshow’s Staff dominated his mind than anything positive. A compulsion he couldn’t help giving in to.

At least his ghost sense went off once he’d followed it long enough, finding one of Vlad’s mutant ghost animals chasing someone through the streets.

Normal. A bit of one sided banter to get it’s attention, a few punches and ectoblasts and it was shoved away in the thermos. No more pulling, and one less ghost terrorizing town. That didn’t make sense. Unless it really was just his ghost sense increasing in range while becoming infinitely more irritating?

That’s what it felt like, at first. He’d follow, ghost sense, find the problem. Except there was something odd. Every ghost he found like this wasn’t just wandering about, or making a mess. They were all actively chasing, stalking or attempting to scare someone. Okay, so it homed in on more ‘violent’ ghosts then? That seemed possible.

Until one of the lurches kept pulling, but there was no ghost sense. The one that kept pulling him towards a man with his back against the wall, fumbling with a wallet. The man who wasn’t being threatened by Skulker, or a vulture, or any of this typical fare. Just another human with a gun, and the will to use it.

This so wasn’t his thing. He fought ghosts, they were half his fault to begin with. So why was his ghost sense leading him to this? Well. It hadn’t. Lurching confirmed for not ghost sense?

Jazz would totally chew him out for tackling someone with a gun. He just had to forget to go intangible at a bad time, and he’d be all ghost. Or worse, go intangible and someone else got a body full of lead. He couldn’t just...ignore it now that he’d seen it though. The chill that hummed below his skin wouldn’t let him.

So the guy was a bit startled about getting pulled through a wall and dropped off the other side. Probably lost some change. He’d expected a bit of fear, at least. Like come on, some ghost just grabs you while a gun’s in your face? That’s still scary.

Yet he didn’t seem bothered. Just thankful. Called him a ‘hero’. For being in the right place at the right time. By just happening to be there because...because he knew? Something in him knew. That was wrong, he shouldn’t just know when people were in danger like that. He vanished without a word, not wanting to stick around and hear more. It was coincidence. Hopefully the guy wasn’t too offended that he just bolted, but he couldn’t stay there. He didn’t like how the complement felt good in a way he couldn’t describe. That the cold in his chest thrummed with a pleasure that made the rest of him feel ill. He wasn’t a hero, he was just some kid. A kid who still wanted to have a life that wasn’t all this, eventually.

He can’t ignore at dinner that he picks at his meal, not from exhaustion but because he’s not hungry. He’s still energized, he’s still full- and no amount of gagging over the sink makes his stomach empty. ‘Ghosts helping humans only do so for their own ends’. He’d ignored and denied that, he hadn’t been getting anything out of being the local ghost punching bag- so why was he now? Did he steal something? Feed on that person he saved?

He hated that his face didn’t even have the sense to look pale at the idea. He looked healthy. Probably better than he usually did. Even the circles under his eyes weren’t as noticeable. Were Mom and Dad right? Was he just...more of a ghost now?

Sam and Tucker don’t buy his ‘couldn’t figure it out’ explanation. Mostly because he refuses to try it again with them along to help figure it out. Even as he grows cold and more lurching keeps gnawing at his attention. He’s human too, he doesn’t need...whatever this is.

Sam kindly tells him he’s being a gigantic idiot.

He’s too distracted by the chill to notice. Tucker explains that after he’s blinking confused at the corn chips bouncing off his forehead. They laugh it off. He’s pretty sure they’re just being nice. They know something’s wrong, but he can’t bring himself to tell them yet. They wait. For now.

He ignores the feeling. He tries to ignore the guilt, that he knows someone out there is in danger. That someone out there needs his help. That all he needs to do is walk out of class and he can go do some actual good. He can’t go chasing after everyone in town. Things happen! He’s just one person! The sooner the lurching in him figures that out, the better. It still ruins his focus, makes him grit his teeth and fidget in place. He wants to go, he doesn’t want to go, he doesn’t even know what he wants. For it to stop. That would work. The tugging stops halfway into his next class, the frost in his blood lifts. It leaves him empty. Starving.

Everything tastes bland. Breakfast, lunch, dinner. Even his favourites barely seem worth the effort of snagging off a table. He’ll eat, he can’t have Mom and Dad looking at him like Sam and Tucker are now, but it just feels heavy in his stomach. A brick he’s decided to try digesting for fun. He’s hungry, ravenously so, but doesn’t want anything.

He knows exactly what he wants and hates himself for it. Stupid ghost half. He doesn’t need that, he doesn’t want to be some...leech. Seeking out trouble just to benefit from it. It’s wrong, he hates it, and if he could grab his core and slam it on the table for a few hours he would. Just until it remembered that they helped when they could. When it was close by, when it was a ghost problem. Not every bit of danger in town!

Misplaced aggression goes to the nearby ghosts. Which it often had, really. It’s normal. He’s just making sure people don’t get hurt, ignoring the humming of MINE coiled in his ectoplasm. The other ghosts feel it. They hear it when he hunts them down and wants to keep swinging even when they put claws or hands up in surrender. He doesn’t trust himself to banter with them right now. He doesn’t want to hear the words his ghost side wants to say. He shoves them back into the Ghost Zone, and the smarter ones stay away. A stronger ghost is already feeding here. There’s nothing for them to take.

He’s running on autopilot. Days are meaningless. He can’t focus in class, his notes are nonexistent and his patience is beyond frayed. He can’t sleep, the cold is too much, the emptiness hurts and fewer ghosts show up. He can’t even blow off steam by kicking the Box Ghost through a wall. He won’t follow it, and he’s fairly sure it’s going to kill him. That or his parents will. Even they have to notice how he barely eats and won’t focus on anything short of a horn section in his face.

Sam and Tucker sit him down. Force the issue. They know he’s a mess. They don’t have answers. How could they? His choices are to starve this ghost instinct out, or to just give into it and completely ruin his human life. He’ll be fine. It’ll stop eventually if he keeps ignoring it. Then he’ll be able to focus again. It’s all he can cling to.

He’s stubbornly ignoring the prickling awareness of other thoughts. Ones not from his brain. Ones that get louder when the lurch grips him, that practically overwhelm his own as fear and panic grows. Maybe he’s just gone a little off the deep end. He doesn’t hear voices. He refuses.

Jazz has her concerns. That he can’t ignore it. She knows more about Mom and Dad’s research, more about classifications of ghosts. She tries to be gentle, nudging him to be aware that stronger ghosts were more...like a concept then an individual.

He doesn’t want to be some sort of ghost concept of problem solving. She’s worried he won’t have that choice. Some part of him already knows she’s right.

He seeks out Valerie. For help. She’s confused, baffled and suspicious. After all this time he spent convincing her he’s not evil, he’s begging her to call him that. To convince other people he is. To make them fear him and his help. He doesn’t want to be a hero like she is. He just wants to be himself, doesn’t want to hear the people begging for help when he’s trying to sleep.

She doesn’t understand, but understands one thing. He’ll feed on those who rely on them. She has to stop that, doesn’t she?

They fight, and often. He does poorly, lets her save people while his misfires cause damage and chaos. It makes him want to scream each time. Some of the thoughts and voices dim. Not enough. Too many are understanding, too many can see the regret and pain that wrack him with each failure. He’s always hungry. He wants to try again, but everything in him rebels against it. The ghost hunter avoids him. It’s ‘not a fair fight’. He’s ‘not himself’. His green eyes are more dead then they ever have been. He can’t maintain his legs.

As a human, all he wants to do is sleep.

Mom and Dad notice. He collapses and his eyes flare green when they try to help him. Just automatically sensing them as danger, against him, not someone that calls for him. They think he’s possessed, and he wishes they were right.

He half considers not telling them the truth. Let them think of a way to let his ghost half quiet down, to stop hungering for validation he doesn’t want.

Jazz tells them before they can do much of anything. Pinches his ear for being stupid- that getting experimented on won’t help him.

Their hugs make him feel bad. This should be a good moment, a time where he feels safe and accepted. But his mind is not his own, not with the others whispering in his skull. Their warmth and love feels like a drop in the empty barrel of his hunger.

They want him to be healthy. They want him to be happy. He can’t be happy if he needs to abandon his life to be healthy. He tries to explain it, the emptiness, the voices (Jazz cuffs him again for hiding this, which seems fair.) and they promise to try and figure out why, maybe find a way to limit it or separate himself from whatever connection his ghost half seems to have made with the town. Until then- they encourage him. To go ‘help’ people. To feed the clawing cold taking over his existence. He’s not sure if they really mean it. It doesn’t stop him from listening.

It’s hard to feel guilty when it feels so good. To have the fear quiet and be replaced with thanks. Someone’s out of danger and happy, and he feels less hollow for a time. Mom and Dad switch him to home school. They say it’s a better fit, to be able to stop and start based on when he’s not being dragged away by his own instinctive need to protect people.

It feels like giving up. Admitting he’s too much of a freak to live like everyone else. Dad tries to compare it to his special classes when he was young. Different to fit his learning style, not failing. The pulls and voices aren’t nearly as distracting when he’s full. Food actually tastes like more than sand again. Sam and Tucker don’t need to try as hard to smile now that he isn’t looking like death warmed over. He doesn’t like not getting to see them as often. He can’t deny he feels better this way, and can actually pay attention now. Even if most of the time he just wants to nap when the hunger stops. Go ‘back into hiding’ as the town thinks he does.

It’s getting better. Slowly. Not in a way he wanted it to. Better nonetheless.

#Danny Phantom #phic fight 2021 #Team Ghost #how to mangle a prompt in 3k words #it's a really neat idea tho!#angst train choo choo

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