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dreamwritesimagines · 4 years

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Twisted 19 - Chasing Silhouettes [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, blood.

Word Count: 3800

Summary: Truce can be inevitable.

It was safe to say that you were officially off your rocker after the break up. Stress? Check. No sleep? Check. Getting drunk mid-day? Check.

Looking a serial killer in the eye and threatening him?

Also check.

The constant anger was gone though. That blinding fury was gone, the fear was gone, the only thing you felt was numbness. It was as if you were watching everything happening around you from behind a glass, it was there but you couldn’t touch it or feel it.

With one exception; you missed Spencer each and every minute of the day, so you at least knew there was something left inside of you that wasn’t broken. But after what had happened, it wasn’t like you could call him. You had already left him multiple voice messages whenever you got too drunk anyway, and you were sure he had deleted them without even listening.

Not that you could blame him. He had already told you he wished he had never met you, and there was nothing you could do to change that.

“You guys will get back together,” Kenzie assured you like the hopeless romantic she was, “This is just temporary. I just know it, it’s like me and Mina. You can’t stop true love.”

“I doubt Mina ever told you she never loved you,” you stated, exhaling the smoke of your cigarette. “Or that you told her you wish you had never met her.”

She stole a look at Mina who was waiting for your lattes by the counter and turned to you.

“Well alright, maybe you and Spencer are having a more intense fight than we did, but—“

“This is not a fight, Kenz. We broke up.”

“You broke up with him,” she corrected you, “And you’re still in love with him.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you shrugged your shoulders, “I burned that bridge, okay? After this whole case is over, he will want nothing to do with me—hell, he wants nothing to do with me right now and I don’t blame him.”

“Okay,” Mina said as she came to your table and handed you your latte before sitting down, “What are we talking about?”

“Her and Spencer.”

“Yeah no, fuck that guy.”

Kenzie gasped, “Babe!”

“Kenz, he’s in the FBI, okay? He was there when they brought her into that interrogation room.”

“He wasn’t there when they took me to the station.”

“Fine, he came later on but did nothing to stop his beloved team from hounding you.”

“Mina, he was in another room.”

“You can’t possibly believe he didn’t know what was happening in the interrogation room,” she insisted and Kenzie pulled her brows together.

“Wait, didn’t you say he was the one who called you? For the lawyers and everything?”

Mina shrugged, “Yeah, so? That was just because this one,” she pointed at you, “Was too much of an idiot to ask for a lawyer. What, did you never watch a movie? You always ask for a lawyer.”

“But think about it, it means that he was trying to protect her from that whole interrogation process before he even landed,” Kenzie stated, “He knows how that whole thing goes, he made the calls, he gave his professional opinion to the police, he sent his team because they wouldn’t let him in there, it wouldn’t surprise me if he thought they’d go easy on her.”

You held the warm cup in your hands, listening silently.

“Or he just wanted to play the nice guy so that he could manipulate her more.”

You pulled your brows together, “Dude, he’s not manipulating me.”

“Not right now.”

“Not ever,” you said, “That’s not… that wasn’t the reason. Kenzie has a point, he was trying to get me out of there with minimum damage, and he knows how the system works.”

“Yeah, and that’s exactly why you need to talk to him and explain—“

“Enough people got hurt because of me,” you cut Kenzie off, “Died, even. It would destroy me if it was him, okay? Me staying away is better for him, at least he will stay alive.”

Mina scoffed, “Not that your heartbreak is not important, but I need to bitch at you before I forget,” she said, “How could you not tell me Nolan was planning to propose mom?”

Kenzie smiled, “I think it’s sweet.”

“I think it’s a fucking disaster.”

“Oh come on,” you murmured, sipping your coffee, “You’ve seen them together, haven’t you? It’s bound to happen, he’s head over heels and mom can’t stop talking about him.”

Mina let out a whine, “I’m a good person,” she murmured, “I give to charity and stuff, I don’t deserve this.”

“You’re not ten years old you idiot, a stepfather will not disturb any dynamics you have.”

“He will though!” she protested, “To repeat, he is basically my boss, okay?”

“He’s a lot of people’s boss.”

“Yeah, do you know what people will think when I finally make partner?” she asked you, “That my brand new stepdaddy pulled some strings.”

“Please don’t call him stepdaddy, that’s just disturbing.” Kenzie made a face and Mina heaved a sigh.

“How are you so okay with this?” she asked you and you tilted your head.

“Mina, there’s a killer who’s going after people I know and making sure I see that,” you started, counting with your fingers, “I’ve been drugged at my own apartment—in my own bedroom only to find my ex boyfriend’s dead body in my kitchen. I’ve been accused of murder, been handcuffed, interrogated and broke up with the love of my life. The last past week, I got maybe five hours of sleep and oh, before I forget, I also threatened our original serial killer father with death just a couple of days ago. Does it look like I’m in the right mental state to worry about getting a new stepdaddy?”

“To repeat, can you guys stop calling him stepdaddy?”

“What did you tell him when he asked for your blessing?” you asked and Mina rolled her eyes.

“I told him that mom is a grown woman,” she said, “She doesn’t need our permission to do anything. If she wants to get married to the guy who has apparently loved her for decades… who am I to say no to that?”

You tilted your head, “You were nice?” you asked in disbelief, “You’re never nice.”

“Eh, I have my moments.”

“What’s the real reason?”

Mina pointed at Kenzie with her thumb, “She said to be nice.”

“You’re so whipped.”

“You are seriously going to sit there and call me whipped when you’ve been wailing for the last month, miss I shall suffer forever after my lost love even though he was two seconds away from handcuffing me and not in a fun way?”

“He wasn’t-“

“Both of you are being too cynical about Nolan,” Kenzie interrupted you and grinned wide, “I mean come on, doesn’t it make you believe in love all over again?”

“It makes me want to get booze because I’ll never have that, Kenz,” you murmured and she pulled her brows together.

“Oh don’t be like that.”

“Kenz he was the love of my life and I lost—“

“I’m leaving if you start crying into your latte,” Mina deadpanned, “And please don’t say that you’ll plan Nolan’s proposal or God forbid, their wedding.”

“My client list is full.”

She let out a laugh, “You realize we all know that’s your favorite excuse when you don’t want to accept a client, right?” she asked you and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I think I’ll sit this one out,” you said and checked your wristwatch, “Well, I gotta get back to the office, I have this meeting and then I have two other meetings with these new pastry shops.”

“Hey, brat?” Mina stopped you as soon as you stood up and you tilted your head.

“Yeah?”

“You’re okay, right?” she asked, “Besides this whole mess?”

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to smile, “I’m not but I will be.”

“Will you?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I mean I have to, right? There’s not much of an option there.”

Mina looked like she wanted to insist, but Kenzie squeezed her hand, silently telling her to drop it before you made your way through the street to approach the building your office was in. You nodded at the security guards then got in the elevator and pressed the button.

When the elevator got to your floor the doors opened but your assistant rushed to you as soon as you stepped outside

“Y/N, hi! You haven’t been answering your phone.”

“Shit, I forgot it on silent,” you murmured and checked it to see five calls from her, “Five calls? Erica, did you guys catch fire or something?”

“I was actually thinking maybe you would want to come to the balcony with me, you know, to get some fresh air before your meeting?”

You pulled your brows together, “What’s going on?”

“We didn’t know if we should call you or left them downstairs but…” she said, making your heart skip a beat.

“What is it?”

“Remember the time you said you were allergic to jasmines?”

You could feel the goosebumps rising on your arms, “Yeah?”

She pointed at something over your shoulder and you turned your head, your breathing catching up in your throat as someone opened the glass door to go outside.

There was a bowl full of jasmine flower petals but you could still take the overly sweet scent. Bile climbed up your throat as you walked through the door to approach the reception desk, and as soon as you saw what was in the middle of the petals, the room started spinning.

A vial of blood.

“Are you dating like a goth guy?” Erica asked as you took a step back, the walls closing in on you.

“Call the FBI,” you gasped as you rushed to the balcony, desperate for air, “Now.”

***

Panic attacks were a big part of your childhood, and even if you weren’t completely unfamiliar with them as an adult, they still managed to take you by surprise.

It took you nearly an hour to pull yourself together. An hour of sitting there in the balcony, your knees drawn up to your chest as your mind desperately searched for something to focus on, something to hold on to.

Some happy place.

By the time FBI had gotten there, your makeup was smudged around your eyes due to the excessive crying, your whole body was shaky and you were so exhausted that you could barely will yourself to get up and walk to your office.

The jasmine scent still clung to the air though.

You didn’t even have any energy to keep your eyes open, your whole mind wrapped in that numb haze that kept pulling you deeper and deeper into the absolute nothingness as you sat there on the couch, multiple agents coming and going into the office, into the reception, into your floor.

Dr Tara Lewis, Spencer’s coworker had given you a small bottle of hand lotion so that you could take in a scent other than those flowers before she had shot you a sympathetic smile and left your office to talk with the reception.

Even raising your hand to wipe at your nose with the tissue balled up in your palm felt way too tiring for you, but you wiped your nose, your eyes still fixed on the wall as the glass door to your office opened once again and footsteps came closer.

You didn’t even have to raise your head as Spencer approached you before he knelt down to look you in the eye.

“Hi.”

You blinked a couple of times, “Hi,” you sniffled, “Is it okay if we don’t do this today?”

He raised his brows, “Don’t do what?”

“I’m too tired to fight,” your speech was almost slurred at this point but you pulled your brows together, forcing yourself to focus as much as you could. “So can we do that tomorrow please? Like truce for a day?”

He offered you a tight lipped smile, “I’m not here to fight,” he said gently, as if trying to pull you back to the reality without scaring you, “Truce for a day works for me.”

You picked at the crumpled tissue in your hand, “Thank you.”

“Do you think you can talk to me though?”

You nodded silently, wiping at your nose again. “Yes.”

“Great,” he said, his calm voice washing over you, “That’s good. What’re you thinking about right now?”

“I’m thinking…” you tried to put your thoughts in order, “Tara gave me a peach hand lotion, can you give it back to her after you’re done here?”

“Sure,” he said, “That’s a good thing to focus on. What else?”

“It’s not my dad,” you said, “My dad wouldn’t dare to fuck with me, not after- it’s not him.”

“Tell me something other than the case.”

You willed yourself to concentrate on his handsome face, “Do I look like a horror movie corpse right now?”

He scoffed a chuckle, shaking his head. “You look beautiful Y/N. You always do.”

“The only person who’s a bigger liar than you is that makeup artist that told me this eyeliner was waterproof.”

He reached out to tilt your chin up so that his hazel gaze could study you better, and even in your numb state you could feel the warmth spreading through your body with his touch, “How long have you been awake?”

“I dozed off for like an hour last night,” you murmured, “I have this new apartment but I can’t sleep in my bedroom because I keep thinking there’s some noise coming from the kitchen, like… like it’s going to happen again. It’s impossible though, there are like five different locks on that door, someone would have to come with a battering ram to open the damn thing but I still don’t feel safe enough to—to sleep.”

He thought for a moment, “You can’t sleep because you don’t feel safe,” he murmured and you heaved a sigh, your head dropping before you forced yourself to raise it again, making a face.

“I’ve never tried peach lotion before, it smells nice…” you mused, your gaze fixed on the wall while the black spots flew in your vision “Have you ever tried it? Also hypothetically speaking, what happens if you eat lotion? Like do you think—“

“Y/N,” his clear voice shot through the haze again, “Sweetheart, look at me.”

If you weren’t too goddamn tired, the pet name would make you snap out of it and even give you a spark of hope, but you could barely concentrate on what was happening.

“Can you do something for me?” he asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, anything.”

“Lie down.” he said and you pulled your brows together.

“Why?”

“We’ll try something,” he said, stealing a look outside to the reception crawling with agents before turning to you as you curled up on the couch, still holding the tissue tight in your hand, your eyes getting heavy the minute your head hit the small pillow.

“What are we trying?” you managed to ask through the fog and he smiled softly.

“Close your eyes, for thirty seconds,” he said, “Just focus on your breathing. I’m right here, okay? Can you do that for me?”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, counting in your head.

You didn’t even reach fifteen before the sleep surrounded you.

***

You were pulled away from the bliss when someone shook you by the shoulder gently.

“Y/N,” Erica’s voice reached you, “Y/N, wake up.”

You opened your eyes groggily, frowning. It was already dark outside and there was nearly no one in the office except for her and you. You attempted to sit up but stopped as soon as Spencer’s cologne filled your nostrils and you looked down at the jacket covering you.

He must’ve left his jacket on you while you slept in order to keep you from getting cold.

You could feel the small spark of peace shooting through you, the warmth spreading through your veins as you hugged the jacket tighter around your body and cleared your throat.

“What time is it?”

“Eight,” she shot you a small smile, “Um, everyone left and I figured you’d get a stiff back if you sleept on the couch any longer.”

“Erica,” you said, “You didn’t have to stay.”

“Come on, I wouldn’t leave you here alone after today,” she said, “Besides, I told that tall handsome agent that I’d drive you home. His team was called back to the FBI, some clue or whatever.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, I’d be a lousy assistant if I didn’t.”

“No, I mean—“ you swallowed thickly, “Thank you. It means more than you know to me.”

She grinned at you as you grabbed your purse and both of you made your way to the elevator.

“So I take it there’s no goth boyfriend but…” she said as the elevator went down, “Maybe a tall handsome flirt?”

“We broke up,” you murmured and she scoffed.

“Yeah no.”

You blinked a couple of times, “Erica, I’m pretty sure we broke up. I was there—“

“No I mean,” she huffed while you left the elevator to approach her car, “I have a talent to sense these sort of things you see. He doesn’t look at you like you broke up, and that jacket over you certainly doesn’t say you broke up.”

You got in the car with her and she started it.

“Is it because of your dad?” she asked you and your head shot up.

“What? How did you-?”

“It’s a small office, people talk,” she said as if apologizing, “But don’t worry, we all know that’s not the kind of person you are. I even had a fight with my boyfriend about it, but I told him that I knew you, you would never be able to do something like that. He was like you don’t know what people are capable of and I was like well...”

You were way too tired to answer her, so you let her talk about the time how she was great at sensing people’s true motives and how her boyfriend thought you were capable of murder while you sat in her car as she drove you to your place. You thanked her, your mind still fuzzy with sleep and made your way to your apartment.

After checking if all five locks were in their places and counting them in your head, you kicked off your heels and made your way to the fridge to get the bottle of whiskey. You took a swig of it and went to the couch, turning on the TV and leaning back to the soft cushions. You slowly took the jacket off and pulled it over your body, closing your eyes and inhaling his scent.

Maybe you could just imagine that you two were together, just for tonight.

You managed to distract yourself for a couple of hours, just sitting there and staring at the TV, barely paying attention to what was playing. By the time it was midnight, you had reached the half of the bottle and looked down at your phone for a couple of seconds before finding his name in the contacts.

You didn’t have to wait for long, and for once it didn’t go to voice mail.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” you smiled, “Um… is the truce still on? Or should I— should I hang up?”

“No,” he said almost too quickly, “No, don’t. We have today, don’t we? Might as well use the truce until the end.”

“Okay,” you whispered, “Thanks, by the way. For today. I can imagine how hard it is for you—“

“No,” his voice was soft, “No you really can’t.”

A silence fell upon you and you grabbed a tissue, wiping at your eyes,

“Professor?”

“Hm?”

“What does science say about heartbreak? Hypothetically speaking?”

“About heartbreak?”

“Yeah.”

He cleared his throat, “Considering the stimulation that increases dopamine and-“

“In a way that I will understand while I’m half drunk?”

“Addiction.”

You pulled back to look at the phone, “Addiction?”

“You know the areas of your brain that are active when you’re in love? Those areas are also active when you use…well, you name it. Cocaine. Drugs. Nicotine.”

“So that means heartbreak means-“

“Withdrawals,” he finished your sentence for you, “Exactly.”

You grabbed another tissue from the box on the coffee table, wiping at your nose.

“Spencer, what if it goes on like this forever?” you rasped out, “This whole heartbreak. What if I feel like this forever? What if I… What if I’m like seventy and I still—“

Love you.

“Miss you,” you changed your mind mid-sentence, “What if I’m old and gray and still using your jacket as a blanket?”

“That’s what you’re doing right now?”

“Yeah,” you murmured, “Pathetic right?”

“I recorded that show you liked and still can’t bring myself to delete it,” he admitted, “I don’t even watch it, it’s just there. You sure you want to talk about pathetic with me?”

You let out a bitter laugh, “Nah, still no competition professor. I still call you whenever I’m drunk, remember? You’re handling this way better than me, you still have your dignity.”

“I saw a fridge magnet in a store a week ago and I actually walked in there to buy it before I remembered I couldn’t give it to you,” he paused, “I’m not handling anything, Y/N. I’m a mess, it’s like…”

You held your breath, waiting for him to continue.

“You took something with you on your way out,” he said slowly, “And I don’t know what to do with what’s left, to be honest.”

“My chest actually hurts when I see you, you know?” you murmured, “And I still haven’t deleted the pictures.”

“Me neither.”

You picked at the tissue in your hand, “So much for Dante and Beatrice huh?”

“All things considered, they’d handle it worse than us.”

“I doubt anyone could handle it worse than us, professor.”

“No think about it,” he said, “We had….we had each other, at least. They didn’t technically lose each other, because they were never together.”

“It’s still romantic.”

“Dante saw Beatrice twice in his life,” he told you, “Once when they were nine, once when they were both adults. Twice in his whole life. Ignore the poems, what would you do if a guy you saw when you were nine showed up years and years later, proclaiming his undying love for you?”

“Call the police?” you said, making him chuckle.

“There you go.”

“When you put romanticism aside, Beatrice should’ve gotten a restraining order.”

“They didn’t have those back then, Y/N.”

You let out a small giggle, “Yeah yeah…” you murmured, “So what does that mean then? We’re more tragic than Dante and Beatrice?”

He sniffled and cleared his throat, “Yeah,” he said, “I think that’s what it means.”

You could feel the tears burning your eyes, “It’s not going to get easier, is it?” you croaked out after almost a minute of silence and he thought for a moment.

“I don’t think so,” he said, “Not for me anyway.”

“Not for me either,” you murmured and wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand, burying your nose to the collar of his jacket draped over you.

If you closed your eyes, maybe it would stop hurting this much. You touched your screen to get to your gallery, then found your picture together, both of you smiling at the camera, unaware of the heartbreak that would hit you both very soon.

“Good night Dante,” you whispered and Spencer exhaled a shaky breath, as if he was craving the addictive high of your presence as much as you did his.

“Good night Beatrice.”

Chapter 20

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagines #twisted #spencer #reid #spencer x reader #reid x reader #criminal minds

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wizkiddx · 4 years

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honeymoon morning

Honestly I apologise in advance bcos this is pure sickening, god awful fluff. It’s shit bit fluffy af and warmed my cold heart of stone a little ahah. Kinda imagined that its actress!reader too, but doesn’t acc have to be (oh and for the purposes of the story also married Haz off to the readers best mate). On a real, really didn’t excute the idea the way I wanted but hey-ho. T x

Summary: the morning after the wedding and there are some beans to be spilt in between all the happiness

The best morning of her life. Y/n knew it would be just that. I mean, it already was - she woke up in the arms of the man she loved, that she could now call her husband forever and ever. Tom looked glorious; still asleep as he lay on his back, slightly tilted toward her side and his arm outstretched as if he was waiting for her to come back to bed and join him. Even unconscious, Y/n still wanted to please him in everyday possible so she did just as he wanted. Tiptoeing from the doorway on their ensuite, she pulled the cord of the white silk robe slightly tighter round her stomach. Before she lay down next to her husband, she smiled gently and pulled her still wet hair to one side, smelling like apples of the hotels free sample shampoos. As if rehearsed, as soon as she settled on the white pillows, ontop of Tom’s outstretched arm, he rolled almost ontop of her, throwing his other arm over her side and squeezed. Y/n couldn’t repress that little giggle his actions illicited, making the brunette around her groan and mumble something incoherent meanwhile pressing his head further into her hair.

Which made him pull back and slowly blink awake with a scowl. Her hair was still wet.

“Hi husband” She grinned, loving the way his scowl at being awoken morphed into this shit eating smile.

“My beautiful wife huh?” Tom tucked a clump of damp hair behind her ear before letting his palm rest on her glowing cheek and just staring into her seemingly ever changing eyes. No matter how many times he looked into them, Tom always managed to see something different and exciting in them. Something else to fall deeply and helplessly in love with.

“Yesterday was…”

“Everything.” Tom finished off for her, before pressing his lips to hers as she shifted to lean over him.

“Uh-huh. But now it’s today. Which means… you gotta get up!” She eventually got to the point, sitting up and therefore avoiding his second attempt to meet lips, once again making him pout.

“Is it too much to ask to just spend a day in bed with my wife?” His wife. Boy did that sound like music to her ears.

“Yes because everyone is waiting downstairs for us at breakfast!”

“They can wait there till tomorrow for all I care.” Indignantly, Tom closed his eyes pretending to go back to sleep.

“And… because I got you a marriage present.” That got his attention. Eyes flying open, as he pushed himself up so he was sitting against the headboard of the big four poster bed, Tom looked quizzically at his wife. His wife.

Giggling at his oh-so-predictable reaction, Y/n leaned off the bed to pickup the small gift wrapped box on the floor.

“Y/n you really shouldn’t have I didn’t know we were doing this-“

“Oh shut up and open it would you?”

“Unless this is a toy for… you know, then you really should have.” Even half asleep, Tom still had something on his mind.

“Tom! Just open it before you ruin the moment anymore.” She wasn’t really mad. She was smirking and jokingly rolling her eyes at his idiocy. He was her idiot though. With a confused look, Tom followed her instructions, carefully unwrapping the silvery gift paper to reveal a navy blue velvet box. He looked up momentarily to question Y/n, who just gestured for him to open it. Going at a painfully slow speed, he lifted it up to reveal an old and tattered watch. It had a cracked glass front yet Tom could still see the ‘Rolex’ logo branded onto the face of it.

Not going to lie - he was confused. Y/n knew he already had multiple nice watches he wore regularly. All of those were in better nick than this.

“I umm-“

“It’s an old Rolex. I thought you could do it up like your dad did for you.” She whispered, with this massive smile just because she knew Tom still didn’t understand.

“Oh I er… I mean I could I’m not sure-“ Tom stammered, she seemed so proud of herself, yet he couldn’t really understand why and didn’t want to disappoint her. To be fair him being a bit slow wasn’t an uncommon thing, Tom would hold hid hands up and admit he wasn’t the smartest. Whereas and completely unknown to most people, Y/n was really really clever, I mean she was nearly going to be a doctor. That was one of the things Tom absolutely loved too, the way she would be able to make leaps and figure things out the average person would just stare at confused. So fair to say, she was used to explaining things to him.

“You know your Dad gave it to his first born on their eighteenth, your eighteenth birthday. And I thought you could do with all the 18 years because I dont fancy you as a professional watch-fixer.” Tom was still absolute clueless, waiting for more of an explanation.

“18 years?” The number seeming a bit random but oddly specific to Tom.

“Well you know… 18 years from now when your son or daughter turns into an adult. When they aren’t our little baby anymore.” She whispered, taking his hands in her and pressing it against her ever so slightly bloated stomach.

And then finally it clicked. His eyes grew impossibly wide, pressing lightly on her silk-clad stomach as he sat forwards.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Tommy we are going to be parents!” She smiled whilst nodding, totally enamoured by the look of sheer joy on his face.

“This isn’t a joke right?”

“No I swear to you. 12 weeks yesterday.”

“You’re serious? We’re going to be parents?” Y/n just nodded in response this time, before instantaneously Tom’s lips were on hers, pouring all the passion and love and excitement that he could on her. After a few moments they pulled away, yet keeping their faces impossibly close.

“I love you”

“I love you and… well I love them too.” Y/n was so in love with the man in front of him. He just was going to be the best Dad in the world and there was no-one she would rather start this journey with. In complete honesty, yesterday the first thing she’d wanted to do when she saw Tom standing at the altar was tell him. It had been impossible, the last weeks of keeping ‘shtum’. But she’d only found out when she noticed she was 3 weeks late on her period, by which point Tom was away filming. They’d agreed that so they both had a quality honeymoon, to finish any backlog of work before the wedding, so it was a 8 week holiday with just the two of them. It had also made the reunion that much better, having been apart for almost 2 months before the wedding.

“You want to see them? I had the scan really early yesterday morning?” It was an unnecessary question, as soon as Y/n even mentioned it Tom bolted up like an excited puppy. With a knowing laugh, Y/n then slipped her hand under the pillow to produce the little white card and offering it to him. Tom took the card, while with his other hand pulling her flush with his chest so she was sitting half on his lap. Slowly Tom lifted the front of the card, to reveal the black ultrasound print. For all he knew that could be an ultrasound of elephant dung; but the fact that he had it on good authority it was his wife and baby, Tom swore he’d never seen anything more beautiful. Knowing he was more than hopeless at this, Y/n took him through slightly different blobs on the picture, demonstrating the head, an arm, a foot.

“Why didn’t you tell me though? You had to do this by yourself?”

“By the time I found out myself you were already in new york and… well its not something to say over the phone is it?”

“Y/n as perfect as this is, you could’ve sent me a text for all I care. I wouldn’t have let you do this on your own! Have you been sick or-“

“Not technically on my own… don’t be mad but Y/f/n was there when I took the test, she was the one who said I should.”

“I should’ve guessed that to be fair” Tom rolled his eyes playfully, of course Y/f/n knew they were basically joint at the hip. She probably sensed it with her best friend powers.

“And yeh mornings aren’t very fun but thats supposed to ease now we’re over the first trimester.”

“I-fuck I don’t know what to say… I just love you.”

“And that is all I’ve ever wanted.” She whispered against his lips before they connected once again. It was just so full of gentle, care and love for each other. The moment was just perfect… until her phone rang.

Y/n pulled away, receiving an almost whine from her husband, reaching to answer her phone.

“Hey… yeh yeh I know we are on our way, just had some news to spill… I think he’s happy yeh-“ she giggled, as she watched Tom gently pull back the sides of her robe to reveal her belly. At only 12 weeks, she was barely showing at all but now Tom looked he didn’t understand how he hadn’t noticed last night. “-… I’m not sure let me check hang on” Y/n spoke into the receiver again, Tom already knew the moment it rang it would only be Y/f/n. Only she would have the audacity to interrupt the couple the morning after their wedding.

“Tom so… I kind of made arrangements just incase, because this is a pretty good time just because everyones here. But I figured you might want to keep it a secret for a bit when its just us that know?” He looked toward the window, apparently deep in thought, before turning back to her.

“I’m spoiler king right? Might be safest to tell them before I explode.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeh course, you know I can’t keep a secret, one look at Haz and he’ll know something is up”

“Actually he might already know too-“

“WHAT”

#tomholland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #actress!reader #harrison osterfield

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imagineitup · 4 years

Text

𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘪𝘶𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘧𝘰𝘺

𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺: @spideyboipete

𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵: fake dating au

𝘢/𝘯: i tried out a new style of hc, so let me know if you like this version or my old versions better tysm <3

- -

you and scorpius are those friends

you’ve got that type of friendship where something clicked and suddenly you were both attached at the hip for years

because apparently having the same brand cauldron in the beginning of first year with the same exact hole in the side means best friends ride or die in first year culture

like what even is this? some psychic shit??

but anyway, with you being absolutely intent on making friends, scorpius couldn’t get rid of you if he tried but pls he could never survive without you anyway :p

since then you’ve both been best friends for life! well, ever since the +1 with the introduction of albus potter

and at first you were super happy because yay new friends

but then they kind of stopped hanging out with you in the middle of fifth year or so and went off into their own little world

and you were a little sad

ok maybe a lot sad

but that was okay because that meant you were able to meet new friends and expand your horizons! you even got the chance to focus on yourself and join some new clubs, too!

who even is scorpius anymore lmao you don’t know him

but anyway

it was seventh year and you were so tired of your friends bugging you to get a s/o

“(Y/N) why don’t you date someone?”

“you’d really hit it off with so and so, don’t you think?”

“just put yourself out there”

ರ_ರ

exsqueeze me

so one day you just can’t take it anymore

and maybe you should’ve thought this through but nO

you don’t pause to think things through

because life is for living in the moment hell yes

“guys i’m already dating someone” (▰˘◡˘▰)

needless to say your friends go insane

like who tf is this humans (Y/N) hasn’t mentioned the audacity™

so like any normal person, you say the first name that comes to mind

“hahaha … scorpius!”

your friends stare at you like they’re in the office

blink blink

“but … weren’t you guys just friends”

“NO”

you’re panicking but

hahahahhaha

“we’re in LOVE”

ur friends are really like ok whatever, but go off

and that is how you find yourself dragging yourself over to the slytherin common room and placing your hands on scorpius’s shoulders

“promise me you won’t freak out”

and ofc scorpius is already freaking out

bc why are you sitting in the common room with this crazily determined face and forcing him to listen to you

and this is how you get into this situation

with scorpius screeching and falling off his chair and you doing your best uwu pls help me 911 face

“i can’t DATE you”

what

you give scorpius your best professional face even though inside you’re ???

bc um is it that bad to date you??

you are confused???

you’ve saved scorpius thousands of times in his hogwarts career in both academics and social standing he can afford to pretend to date you ONCE

“WHY NOT”

“BECAUSE”

ರ_ರ

ರ_ರ ರ_ರ

obviously you’re not getting anywhere and you start to stand up, kind of annoyed

“fine then, ig i’ll just find someone else to date me.” sniff

as soon as you say that, it’s like you’ve flipped a switch and suddenly scorpius is very concerned and almost a little upset

and when you don’t notice him contemplating something, he runs in front of you and nearly knocks you over

“second thoughts?”

scorpius scowls

although it looks more like a lil pout pushing at his lips and he crosses his arms

lmao who is this and what’s happened to scorpius

you shrug and start to leave for real until scorpius reaches out to tug at your arm

“NO, NO WAIT … I’LL DO IT”

you whirl around immediately and you are needless to say, very relieved!

｡◕‿◕｡

“perfect!”

but apparently scorpius hasn’t recovered from his fall from before

bc he can’t stop rubbing his hand against his neck and his face is all blotchy and pink

kinda cute, but in a best friends way. like wowie my best friend looks kinda adorable look at that boy go

but ofc scorpius has to ruin the special moment because he offhandedly says, “shouldn’t we have rules or something?”

rules???

rULES???

this is fake dating scorpius wdyfm rules?

“huh?”

“like … things not to do? maybe one big rule is not ruining our friendship???”

ʘ‿ʘ

he smart smart

“ok easy then, just don’t fall in love with me”

apparently this is the WRONG thing to say?

scorpius is RED like boy is not pink anymore his cheeks are burning red

“you can’t just say that?”

????

you are confused bc what does that even mean

“why not?”

“that’s like ... y-you you can’t just say that.”

you are, if possible, even more confused?

“okay and?”

scorpius blinks

bls this boy has the audacity to just shrug

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN

reader u are duMB af scorpius bout to throw hands here

but he won’t bc he luvs u (▰˘◡˘▰)

so fifteen minutes later you guys decide to make three big rules

scorpius had a whole list of like twenty but you narrowed it down to these:

1. don’t ruin ur friendship

2. no kissing

3. and ur paying for three hogsmeade rounds after this is over

honestly you think this is kinda rude considering scorpius is richer than ur entire life but whatever, at least he’s not leaving you out to the wolves

so when it’s finally time to put this fake dating thing to the test, you tug scorpius over to your side of the table at the great hall and make sure to swing his hand

which actually feels kind of nice??

like you’ve never actually thought about this before

but scorpius is comforting

his hand fits right in yours, and he’s so warm

and i mean haha it’s not like this is a new thing, pssh you two hold hands all the time!! but adjkaldjkfl not in a dating way

ur friends are shocked

like they never thought you’d actually show up with a DATE

and bc they’re all ruDE they grill scorpius

but scorpius is best boy

best bf

and answers all their questions like a pro

(▰˘◡˘▰)

(▰˘◡˘▰)(▰˘◡˘▰)

ur so proud

you let ur head rest against scorpius’s shoulder and BITCH

scorpius presses a kiss to ur forehead

AJDKFJDSF

why are u so happy? what is this??

it’s just so gentle and soft and you feel your heart getting all mushy and warm

your friends all give a big collective aww because one, they’re annoying af and yes y’all are cute cute and this is cute

but reader ur going through some existential crisis

and later when you’re walking with scorpius to all your classes, you can’t stop thinking that hey, this fakedating thing isn’t that bad

but whatever it’s just cause u miss spending time with scorpius!

yes, that’s it!

you’re just sad that scorpius always hangs out with albus and you don’t get to see him as much

so this is nice!

you’re just going through some bff nostalgia atm pls wait for (y/n).exe to start working again

anyway now bc of this fakedating thing, you and scorpius just spend so much time together

like y’all have always been best friends, but this feels different okay

scorpius will run over to you when he sees you and wrap his arms around your waist

the first time he did it, he had the cuteness to go “is this okay? are you okay? is this too much?

and YOUR HEART WENT !!!!!

you might’ve blushed

okay you did

but you convince yourself it’s just because ur touch starved

ʘ‿ʘ reader c’mon

but whenever you call scorpius and wave at him, his face just LIGHTS up

and you’re pretty sure yours does too

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *ヽ(◕ヮ◕ヽ)

needless to say you kinda don’t want this all to end

because somewhere in the middle of all this, your head has gone from calling scorpius your fake boyfriend to your real boyfriend

and you don’t really want to go back to just being friends if you’re honest

wait hold up

uh oh

UH OH CODE RED

did you just admit you liked scorpius?? in a REALS way?

◉_◉

◉_◉ ◉_◉ ◉_◉

so like the only way you know how to deal with things, you avoid it!

you start to act really distant

and now whenever scorpius wraps his arms around you, you stiffen up

and scorpius like the angel he is pulls away so quickly bc ?? is his best friend upset? uncomfortable?

did HE make his best friend for life uncomfortable? omg this isn’t ok what is happening

everyone can tell sumn is up

ofc they can, what with you going to the extent of running away whenever you see scorpius and scorpius reacting like the entire light got blown out his life

and bruH scorpius may be innocent but he aiNT dumb

he knows your schedule he KNOWS you ignoring him

and baby is upset

because lately you’ve been starting to feel a lot more to him

and now you’re just gone??

that’s not okay and scorpius isn’t just gonna sit around and be sad

if there’s something he can do he’s gonna do all he can to try to fix it!

he corners you one day and holds up an angry piece of paper

“excuse me m’aam/sir but you broke rule number one which is, in case you forgot, don’t RUIN OUR FRIENDSHIP”

“oh haha uh scorpius! hi uhh gotta blast”

scorpius’s face falls

and that was it

you just wanna smush his face together and tell him things are fine and that you love him

wait WHAT

but scorpius is still staring at you with that wounded look

like you’ve just ripped up his heart and torn it to shreds

bc that’s kinda what you’re doing

omg what’ve you done

READER WHAT HAVE YOU DONE

“scorpius …”

his eyes lock onto yours so fast that you’re afraid he’s got whiplash

your mouth goes dry, and for a few moments it’s hard to talk

but you finally manage to tell him that “i don’t think we should fake date anymore.”

scorpius’s face breaks

his eyes go wide, and it looks like he wants to stagger. and he almost does, just a little bit

“is it something i did?”

WHAT

this boy

scorpius malfoy really gonna be the death of you

you’re shaking your head back and forth so fast because NO of course not of course this isn’t his fault

scorpius is still teetering back and forth, and his arms start to wrap around himself. “because i swear i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. if i screwed up just tell me and i can fix it, (Y/N), please”

you shake ur head, already starting to panic. “of course not. it’s not YOU scorpius. i just can’t fake date you because --”

you clamp your hands over your mouth

“because?” scorpius prompts, his voice careful

you just shake your head, already starting to turn and run back to your dorms because this is stupid and you’re scared

big scared

but scorpius just takes your hand and tugs you backward a bit, almost like a scene from a movie

you do that perfect little twirl back and are face to face with the one and only

“do you … do you like me?” scorpius asks

that’s it

it’s out

you’re ready for your entire friendship with scorpius to come crashing down

“do you?” he repeats softly

you try to pull away but scorpius isn’t having it

he’s still holding onto your hand, gently, of course, and his eyes are boring into yours

you’re too scared to look because you’re afraid of what you’ll find

but when you can’t take it anymore and finally tilt your head up you realize something important

because his eyes aren’t full of disgust

in fact, that’s further from the truth

scorpius malfoy is staring at you with the biggest heart-eyes you’ve ever seen and you’re confused to how you’ve never seen this sooner

it’s almost like you’re his whole world, and now you can’t fucking breathe

is this real?

your heart’s pounding in your chest so fast and there’s something bursting at your lungs

you nod faintly. “yes. i like you”

the huge grin that spreads across scorpius’s face is everything

he rushes forward to pull you into a gigantic hug, even lifting you up a little as he spins you around and lets out a little happy shriek

“i’ve liked you forever, (y/n), i can’t believe this is real”

what

so u could’ve been dating scorpius before??

“you dork why didn’t you tell me?”

“because you didn’t like me like that!”

BITCH WHAT

“well maybe i was confused” you pipe back

scorpius just laughs, burying his head in your shoulder crook. “i’m so happy right now.”

and honestly ?

so are you (´∀｀)♡

#scorpius malfoy #scorpius malfoy x reader #scorpius malfoy headcanons #scorpius malfoy hc #scorpius malfoy imagine #scorpius x reader #scorpius headcanons #scorpius hc #scorpius imagine

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smokeybrand · 3 years

Text

Smokey brand Postmortem: You Suck

I don’t really talk about my love for Mortal Kombat near as much as i do for Marvel, Fate, Star Wars, or Batman, but i adore that bloody franchise. Seriously, the vast majority of this blog is just Marvel and Star Wars content but, i mean, I'm an Eighties baby. That was a massive chunk of our childhoods. See? Even in an essay bout Mortal Kombat, Marvel and Star Wars found it’s way into the conversation. I have a problem but that’s not the problem i want to address in this essay. The problem i have with this one, is the f*cking Mortal Kombat release that just dropped. F*ck did they get so much wrong! I haven’t felt this frustrated with a movie since The Old Guard. I wanted this to be a Comparison but, as i tried to coalesce my thoughts about both films, it became mad apparent to me that the Nineties version of this movie would runaway with it. How is it possible that a film which came out twenty-six years ago, sh*ts all over one with modern shooting techniques and effects? How can a PG-13 movie, saturated with tongue-in-cheek camp and constant nods to the camera, do the Enter the Dragon knock-off franchise more justice that the blockbuster, R-rated, third attempt? Yeah, so this is a postmortem now.

Issue: Cole Young

Why? F*cking why? Listen, I'm all for reimaginings. I love when people can take an established work, recontextualize it, and present something new but familiar. That’s why i keep seeing Batman movies. You can only tell that dude’s story so many times but it’s how you present that story which grabs me. I like the idea of Cole. A fresh face for the audience to view these fantastical circumstances through? Good idea. I hate the execution of Cole. Punk ass weenie who literally develops powers by getting his ass kicked, portrayed by an actor who can’t act, but brought in because of his stunt background, only to nerf the physicality of the role, relegating dude’s greatest strength to his greatest weakness? F*cking, why?

Fix 1: Drop Cole Young, Start Liu Kang

Look, Liu Kang IS Mortal Kombat. He’s their Ryu. He’s their Link. He’s their guy. Drop the family. Drop the Scorpion stuff. Drop the professional fight thrower shtick Build him up as a dude who learned all of this in the Buddhist orphanage he grew up in, denying all of it as just legend and storytelling, until he’s attacked by Sub-Zero. Force him to fight Subby-boy, only to get his ass beat without his Arcana, but have Jax save him just in time. Basically follow Cole’s plot going forward with an emphasis on Liu’s training.

Issue: Shang Tsung

Listen, Ng Chin Han is a get. Dude is a decent actor and i enjoyed he take on the shapeshifter but come on? If you’re not trying to do a Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa, you’re doing it wrong. Shang Tsung should be snarky, quippy, and overconfident. This dude has won nine straight Mortal Kombat tournaments. It’s fine for him to be conniving and deceitful, Deadly Alliance, but this version of Shang is just too flaccid for the title. Hell, when Tagawa came back for the game, he STILL exuded that same smarmy energy and it was perfect.

Fix 2: Give Shang Tsung more agency

I, personally, love smarmy Shang Tsung but if you want to go different, go brutal. Make Shang the spear head of the offense. Give him a seen where he is just mowing down jobber monks in Raiden’s temple before getting real intimate with Hung Lao. Have Tsung absolutely brutalized Lao as Liu watches, breaking his neck before sucking the sole out of his limp body. You got an R, Lean into that sh*t. You gotta give Liu that Chan moment. Lao’s death not only establishes Shang as a straight up force, but activates Liu’s Arcana, fulfilling the prophecy.

Issue: The f*cking prophecy

Bro, you gotta get rid of all the Scorpion prophecy sh*t. That doesn’t fit. It doesn’t make any sense. The prophecy is supposed to be a foreshadowing of Outworld’s downfall. Tying everything to Scorpion and Sub-Zero just because Ed Boon loves the character is kind of ridiculous. And that’s coming from me, a guy who uses Scorpion as his main since MKI. I love Scorpion, Dude is my favorite character in the entire franchise but giving him such a prominent role in this first film was a mistake.

Fix 3: Make it the Shaolin Prophecy

Have Shang Tsung send Sub-Zero into the Shaolin Temple with a team of Jobbers, probably Tarkatan or other Lin Kuei, and murder everyone. It is whispered that a great champion, kin to Master Kung Lao, would defeat the armies of Outworld, sealing Earthrealm off from the Emperor's grasp. baby Liu and Kung are saved, sent off to an orphanage in the US where they grow up in an orphanage run by a weird old man who tells stories. Eventually, the two separate, Kung returns to their homeland, Liu stays in the states, and they live their lives. Fast forward a bit and Shang gets wind that there are two survivors and he dispatches Sub-Zero to go after Liu. Fast forward to the temple, Liu reconnects with his cousin, Kung, who explains his powers activated during a battle against, let’s say... Baraka? Raiden feels it, recruits Kung Lao, who has been training in the temple ever since. He spars with Liu, teaching him the secrets her learned from Master Bo Rai Cho, until Raiden’s Temple is singed. Everything lays out like it did in the film except Liu watched Lao die at the hand of Shang, his Dragon Arcana activates, and the Sorcerer knows he dun goof’d.

Issue: Fights

The fighting sucked in this, man. It was shot like none of the principal actors were physical enough to pull off the fight scenes, which is ridiculous, because that opening scene was exceptional and those dues are old as f*ck. The dude who plays Scorpion, Hiroyuki Sanada, is f*cking sixty, man. You’re telling me these youngsters with actual stunt backgrounds, can’t give me a scrap as entertaining as a sixty year old man? Word?

Fix 4: Oh, there’s a lot here, bud

First, shoot the scraps better. Holy sh*t, that Taken editing was stupid. We live in an age of John Wick, The Raid, and Jason Bourne films, but you chose to shoot these scenes like this? Really? Bro, no. Hell, the fights in Enter the Dragon are some of the best I've eve seen and that motherf*cker dropped forty-eight years ago. Just do whatever he f*ck they did, just do it with a modern twist. Two, cast motherf*ckers that can believable execute the choreography. The chick that played Sonya in the first one, had to learn her fighting n set during the downtime of production because she as late to the shoot. THAT chick was a more believable fighter than the dude who played Cole and that was his f*cking job before he was an actor! F*cking, how?? Three, hire better stunt coordinators. These fights needed to be plotted out much better. Sure, fatalities are cool and special moves are awesome but they aren’t necessary. Liu Kang through one fireball in the first MK film and it was ll the better for it. I don’t need giant flame dragons and head claps and sh*t, i just need brutal, intense, violence inflicted upon a person. These people are in the fight for their lives. I need to feel that. Four, hire more jobbers. Too many actual named characters died in this movie. Too many actual named characters appeared in this movie. Why the f*ck was Nitara in this?

Look, there’s still SO much i would change about this flick. The costumes, the tone, the choice in music, the writing; All need to be adjusted. I would hold Scorpion back until sequel. Have him breaking out of the Netherrealm as a post credit stinger or something. This movie is broken and i think that’s because WB just made this thing to secure rights or a a backdoor pilot for HBO max content. Either way, this movie is bad, man and it didn’t have to be. You can make dope ass, martial arts films, on the cheap, especially when you “ground them in reality.” Why the f*ck didn’t that happen here? How the f*ck is the budget so high, and the film so cheap looking? I miss the ingenuity of the Eighties. Cats had to figure out how to make sh*t work because CG was too expensive. Now, that sh*t is everywhere and it’s a detriment to film. That sh*t takes casualties out of practical films and Mortal Kombat is definitely one of those.

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melikeylikeyjimin · 5 years

Text

Noir || Eleven

(I don’t own this gif)

Word Count: 2.9k

Genre: Mafia AU! Sugar Daddy AU! Jungkook X Reader, fluff, angst.

Warnings: none

A/N: Here is the eleventh chapter of Noir! YAY for the first meeting and date! I might be a bit busy this week and next week so updates might be a bit slow! Thank you for your patience ahead of time. In return, I have written a JK one shot that I hope will satisfy all of you while you wait! I’ll upload it sometime later this week! If you’d like to be tagged whenever I post a new chapter of Noir, please DM me, leave a comment on this post, or send an ask and I’ll add you to the list!

Tag List: @yeontanie21 @moniebuns @writemywaytoyourheart @flamingorosette @trueelee-dj @melonkooky @kawaiimusiccollection @selugis @ellsbells72 @shadowstark @fluffybunnybaekhyun @geekyfangirl-rikachuchanx777

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

“So, why did you call me over exactly?” Nicci asked uninterested.

I sighed, “You know very well why I called you over! I told you the very night he asked me to dinner that I needed your help picking an outfit.”

“Oh yeah, you’re having dinner with your lover boy, right?”

I rolled my eyes, “Nicci, please?”

“Alright, alright. What time do you have to be there?”

“Six thirty.”

“Alright, so I have to make you perfect obviously. You need the money and I can’t send you out looking like...well...you.”

I glared at her, “There’s nothing wrong with being comfortable!”

“Righttt,” She said as she browsed throughout my closet trying to find the perfect outfit. “Where are you going?”

“Some fancy dinner place, it was in French so I wouldn’t know how to pronounce it even if I wanted…”

Nicci whipped her head around, “Wait, are we talking about the same restaurant? Show me the text!” I showed her the location and she squealed, “You lucky ass bitch! He’s taking you to the best restaurant in the entire country! You better give out as payment. Do whatever he asks!”

“Nicci!”

“What? He’s treating you like a fucking queen, so do the same!”

I ignored her comments and let her go back to picking an outfit. “Now that I know you’re going there, I’m more interested.”

She found an emerald green gown that went down to my ankles and was strapless but had sleeves over the tops of my arms. She laid it on my bed and found some black strappy heels, setting it next to the dress.

“Go get dressed in that, and then we’ll talk hair, makeup, and accessories.”

I normally would fight her, but I decided not to bother. She wouldn’t let me get out of this even if I tried. I sighed and took the dress and heels into the bathroom with me and undressed. I slipped my feet into the dress and pulled it over my torso. I put my arms through their little sleeves and moved my hair to the side to zip up the dress. I zipped it up and situated my hair again. I sat down on the bathtub’s side and slipped my feet into the heels, zipping the backs up.

I looked at my reflection one last time before stepping out of the bathroom. Nicci’s eyes flew to my body as she drank in the look. “Why don’t you give up on being a doctor and instead be a glorified escort or trophy wife?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re smoking!” I ignored her comment and sat down at my makeup table, letting her take over. She started putting light waves into my hair, making sure that everything looked natural and loose.

Once she had finished that, she started on my makeup. She chose a few different shades of brown to match with the green of the dress, going for a beautiful but not heavy look.

Suddenly I heard my phone go off. I had Nicci grab it and tell me who was calling me, “It’s Dylan!”

“Shit, what should I do?”

“You have to lie, Y/n! I did not spend so much time on your look and getting you to finally do this just for Dylan to try to cockblock you!”

I nodded and answered the phone, “Hello?”

“Hey Y/n!” Dylan called out from the other side of the line.

“What’s up?”

“I was thinking we could go out tonight and get food and walk around town! What do you think?” I looked at Nicci and she shook her head saying I had to give an excuse.

“I’m sorry I can’t tonight.”

“What? Why not? Do you work? I can just visit you if that’s it.”

“No, no, I don’t work, I just have a lot of assignments I need to work on.”

“Well, I could help you?”

“We both know I won’t get work done if you come over,” I sassed.

He scoffed, “Fine I see how it is. Guess you really hate me.”

I sighed, “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. We can hang out another day. I’ll let you know when I can, okay?”

“Okay…”

“Alright, I gotta go, bye!”

I hung up and set the phone down. It was silent until Nicci broke the silence, “Where do you keep your jewelry?” I pointed to a small box on one of my dressers and she moved to sort through it. She grabbed a pair of dangly silver earrings and a nice silver necklace that would hang perfectly over my bare upper torso. I put the earrings in my ears as she latched the chain on my neck.

“Do you have some purses too?”

I nodded, “In the closet.”

She sorted through them, “I don’t get it, you have a bunch of fashionable things, yet you never wear them.”

“I save it, doesn’t mean I have to wear them all the time.”

Nicci scoffed but continued searching through my numerous purses. She finally handed me a plain black clutch that matched my heels perfectly. “There, you are done!”

I looked at myself in the body mirror and admired Nicci’s work. “Thanks as always, Nicc.”

“Of course, I may not be a professional makeup or hair artist, but it’s one of my favorite pastimes, so it’s nice to experiment on people that aren’t me.”

“What time is it?”

“Quarter to six.”

“Alright, I should get going then,” I said.

Nicci nodded in agreement, “Make sure to tell me what goes on!”

I smiled, “Of course, you’re the only one who supports this decision, so it’s only wise I tell you what happens.”

“You got it, girl.”

I ordered an uber to take to the restaurant that I was supposed to meet Jungkook at. It was in the center of the city so it would take thirty minutes to get there. The uber got there a little bit before six and I had already sent Nicci back home and texted Jungkook that I was leaving the house.

I got in and told the driver the address. As we drove, I looked out the window as I tried to calm my nerves. I wasn’t sure why I was so nervous, but I had just hoped that Jungkook was all that he was behind the screen. I had seen multiple pictures of him so I knew his face well, but that didn’t mean I knew if he had a completely different personality offline. I played with my hands in my lap as we continued to make our way down the different streets of downtown.

I looked around at the flashing lights and the illuminated sidewalks filled with people of all ages. They were all conversing and talking to one another. Some outside of restaurants enjoying the warm nighttime temperature, others smoking and laughing, and many people walking around with groups of friends from store to store.

It had been a while since I went downtown to do anything fun. The drive is not always the best from my apartment to downtown, the traffic had never been nice either. Over the past few years, the city had become increasingly populated without the correct amount of lanes or streets towards downtown as needed for the abundance of people living in it. The city had changed so much over the many years I spent living here. It used to be much more calm, with the regular sports events and musicals, but now it had become a big party central. Strip clubs and bars lining the streets.

Driving past the craze, we finally got to the nicer part of downtown. Where all the rich lived comfortably, close to all the top rated restaurants, stores like Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Versace. The options were endless. This part of the city was always much more hush. People conversed but it was not yelling and laughter like the other part of downtown. There was a clear distinction between normal people and the rich.

Seeing the restaurant in my sight, I waited for the uber driver to pull up to the front of it. He did and I gave him the fare for the drive there. Checking the time, I made sure I was not late and thankfully I was five minutes early. I walked in feeling more than slightly out of place in this time of crowd but tried to push past it. I walked up to the hostess and she gave me a glance over. It was as if she was checking out my clothing to see if they were high class, expensive brands. I smiled as I tried not to think too much about her obvious judgment of me, “Hi, I have a reservation for 6:30 for Jeon Jungkook.”

The lady’s eyes seemed to panic at his name. I frowned ever so slightly at her face wondering why she seemed so panicked. “O-oh, y-yes. Right this way Mrs. Jeon,” she stated. I was ready to correct her as there was no way Jungkook and I were married since we hadn’t even met yet, but I decided not to waste my breath.

She led me to a secluded part of the restaurant that seemed like it could be rented out for private parties. Behind a velvet red curtain, I saw a man sitting at a table. “Here you are, miss. Please enjoy.” The hostess’s voice caught the man’s attention and I was met with a deep dark abyss.

His eyes were piercing right through me, not letting me move or even form coherent sentences in my head. He was breathtaking. His dark hair that was parted and pushed up slightly, his piercing yet doe-like eyes, and his thin beautiful lips. I was speechless. He looked even better in person than he did in photos. The air in my lungs was gone as I continued to stare at him. How could he possibly be interested in someone like me when he was walking around looking like that?!

He finally smiled and stood up, “I’m so glad you could make it, Y/n. Please have a seat.” I knew all too well that I would not be able to speak so I nodded my head, or at least I tried my best to. I moved and sat in the soft cushioned seat opposite of him. It was easily the most comfortable thing I had ever sat on in all my life. He moved my chair, pushing it in for me. I let out a meek thank you at his gentlemen like gesture. “Is something wrong?” He asked taking his seat again.

“A-ah, no, it’s just you’re even better looking in real life than you are in the pictures,” I said as confidently as possible.

He smiled, “Thank you for the compliment. I don’t want things to be awkward between us, so I’ll go ahead and introduce myself. I am Jeon Jungkook, the same guy you have been talking to over the phone for a little bit. It is nice to meet you, Y/n. You are even more stunning in person than over any photo you’ve sent me.”

I swallowed hard knowing very well my face was extremely flushed, “T-thank you. Um, I’m y/n as you know. It’s a pleasure to meet you finally…”

“I can tell you’re nervous, but hopefully that will dissipate throughout the night.” I nodded. “Would you like some wine?”

“Yes, I think that would be helpful.” I knew very well I would need liquid courage running through my veins in order to be normal. He ordered over a waiter that I had not even seen waiting and asked for a bottle of red wine that I did not know the name of.

Once there was wine in my glass, I took a sip and could feel the small burn help rid of my nerves. “So,” I started, “Where would you like to begin?”

“I feel like I know quite a bit about you, but why don’t you go ahead and explain what you do, your hobbies, anything you think is individual to you.”

I nodded my head, “Well, I’m a college student. I am in my third year of college and I dream to become a doctor. I really like the idea of helping others, I don’t necessarily have a certain field that I study as far as medicine goes, but I like the idea of being able to have a purpose or have the power to help or even change someone’s life. I don’t have much free time between college and work, but I enjoy I think anything else a girl my age does. I like staying in and reading, going out with friends, movies, those kinds of things. I’m not really special I don’t think but I enjoy what I study and do with my free time nonetheless.”

“What do you do for work?”

“I work part-time at a cafe near my house as a barista and waitress. It’s not what I want to do but it pays for some things and I like the people I work with, so…”

Jungkook’s face had not changed all throughout my explanation of my current life. It was odd that he seemed to find it interesting as I didn’t think there was anything particularly special to me. Many other girls had a more interesting life than I did. “I guess it’s my turn then?” I nodded happily. Jungkook even over text never talked much about work, but I figured it had to do with not wanting to brag over it or bore me.

“Well, I’m a CEO for the Jeon company and I work under my father, but I, for the most part, do all the work now as he is mostly retired. I don’t have much free time either with all the work, but I enjoy spending time taking pictures and making videos and gaming. I’m quite boring as you can see, so there isn’t much to say about myself.”

I smiled, I could see the happiness in his eyes as he talked about his hobbies. They were something that he obviously really enjoyed. “I would love to play some video games with you sometime” I spoke softly.

His face softened at my words, “I’ll definitely let that happen.” I took another sip of my drink. “Are you ready to order?”

I nodded my head, “What do you usually have here?” He rattled off multiple different dishes that I didn’t know how to pronounce or even know what they entailed.

I laughed embarrassed, “I’m going, to be honest with you, I don’t know much of what you said so I’m going to leave it to you to order whatever you think I’d like.”

He let out an authentic laugh, “Don’t feel embarrassed, I get it.” I grinned and he waved over the waiter. He let our orders slip off of his tongue easily as the waiter bowed and left. “I don’t know if it’s too early for you, but I’d like to talk about why we’ve both come here tonight.”

I nodded knowing the topic was bound to show up eventually, “You can ask whatever questions you have.”

“I only have one, but it won’t really change my decision on the matter. You, of course, don’t have to answer it if you don’t feel comfortable, but why?”

“I won’t tell you a big sob story as to why I need money, other than money is difficult to come by without a college degree. I pay for my rent, food, living expenses, transportation, and my college. I just thought it would be nice to make more money on the side to help myself out.”

“What about your parents?”

“We don’t have a good relationship,” I answered simply. I wasn’t about to go into detail about my parents. They were still a heavy topic for me that I would rather not think about.

“That’s fine, I don’t expect more. But I already made my decision many nights ago about you. I want to support you for whatever reason it is you need money.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I’m genuinely intrigued by you and would like to continue this.” I could almost scream from excitement.

“Are there any like conditions?”

“Not really, I’ll just pay you for each date we go on. I’m not going to force you into anything non-consensual, so if spending time together is all you want, then that’s all we’ll do.”

“Okay, yeah that’s fine with me too.”

“Is one okay?”

“One?”

“One thousand each date or time we hang out.” My eyes bulged out of my head as I heard this.

“A-are you serious?”

“Is it not enough? I can add more if you nee-”

“No, no! Not at all. In fact, I’m surprised you’re giving so much.”

“I don’t really think it’s that much, but if that amount is fine, then…”

“It’s more than okay. I don’t know what to say, thank you so much.”

“I’m glad I can help you out.”

The food arrived and I saw a form of pasta sitting in front of me. I smiled at the dish and took the first bite as we both sat in comfortable silence as we ate. The dinner had gone well and I couldn’t wait for our future dates together.

NEXT PROJECTED UPDATE: 06/18/19 (This is a very very very rough estimate! It all depends on how busy I am throughout the week and weekend, but I will try my hardest for you guys!)

#jungkook x reader #mafia jungkook #sugar daddy jungkook #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook series #jungkook senarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts series #bts senarios #kpop #bts #noir

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buckyscrystalqueen · 6 years

Text

Half Blood, Whole Heart: Part 4

Pairings: Jax x Reader, sister Winchester!reader- SOA/SPN Crossover

Warnings: Swearing, fluff. Lots of fluff.....

Word Count: 3,592

A/N: So I decided to repost my novel- the story that someone stole from my old blog and put up on Wattpad. PLEASE don’t be an asshole and steal my stories. It CRUSHED me when it happened and almost ran me off Tumblr.

Half Blood, Whole Heart Masterlist Aesthetic by @ravenangel33

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“Lowell, kick me that pan over there.” You called from under the old Chevy you were laying under. You heard the metal tin scrape across the ground followed by a voice you weren’t expecting.

“Didn’t I teach you to keep everything within reach when your under a car?” Dean asked. You smiled as you began to drain the coolant from the engine.

“Yea, well guess you gotta tell me again. Maybe it will stick this time.” You slid out from under the truck and Dean reached out his hand to help you up. He glanced at the truck you were working on, sighed and looked back at you.

“I get why you’re staying here.” He said as you wiped your hands off on a bandana you had hanging from your pocket. “I don’t like it and I don’t agree with the little things but I am proud of you for this, Button.” He gestured to the truck and gave you a weak smile.

“I need this, Dean. I’m not cut from the same cloth you and Sam were when it comes to that shit. It was never my fight.”

“I know, Button. Still don’t like it but I know.” You smiled and bumped him with your shoulder as you looked out of the garage for Sam.

“You’re gunna take care of him, right?” You asked as you looked back at your brother and he nodded.

“Best as I can. It’s not going to be easy but I know dad is sending us to Colorado for a reason.”

“Just let me know when you find him, OK?” you requested. Dean looked at you sarcastically and rolled his eyes.

“No, I’m just going to leave you in the dark.” You shook your head as he pulled you in for a hug. After a moment, you pulled back and looked at him.

“Look, if you find this thing and you really need help, let me know. I’ll talk Jax into tagging along to teach more about our family business.”

“Ha! I’d pay to see that happen.” Dean teased as Sam headed into the garage.

“Pay to see what?” he asked

“You dressed in drag.” Dean quipped.

“Dad belly dancing.” you said at the same time. The three of you laughed as Sam gave you a quick hug.

“Take care of yourself, (Y/N).” Sam said as he stepped back. “And thanks for putting us up last night.”

“And putting up with our shit.” Dean said and you swiped your hand at them.

“Hey, that’s what little sisters are for. You two take care of each other and find dad. Now, I gotta get back to work because this engine isn’t gunna remove itself.” You said bye to your brothers and paused just long enough to watch them walk across the lot. With a heavy sigh you grabbed your socket wrench, laid back down on your creeper and got back to work.

——

“Hey darlin’, you almost done?” Jax called out as he strolled into the shop. You jumped at the sudden noise and managed to knock the transmission lift and it shifted the entire thing an inch away from where you needed it.

“Goddamn it, Jackson!” You shouted from under the truck as you tried to shove the lift back in place. “Push this back toward me an inch or so.” You waited only half a second before the transmission shifted back into place. “Why do you always do that?” You called out as you started to tighten the torque converter bolts. You saw a flash of blond appear beside you and you glanced over to your boyfriend.

“It’s fun to watch you get all feisty.” You rolled your eyes and looked back up at the truck with a small shake of your head.

“You’re an ass.” You grumbled.

“Yes, but I’m your ass. You need a hand baby girl?” You nodded as you tightened the mounting bolts and Jax jumped up to help. With the two of you working together like a well oiled machine, the job that would have taken you over an hour to finish alone, took you only 25 minutes and before you knew it, you had the truck idling right outside of the garage just as the sun was setting.

“I don’t think I have ever redone a car so fast in my life.” You bragged as you smoked a cigarette and checked under the car for any leaks. Jax laughed as he leaned against the shop wall.

“I don’t think anyone at the shop has. Shit, I don’t even think I could get a turnover done that fast.” You shrugged as you went around and turned off the truck and shrugged.

“No one will ever be…”

“You get that truck done already?” Clay called out as he walked out of the office. You looked over at him and nodded.

“Yes sir. I’m gunna wait until tomorrow to take it around the block and check it.” He paused, pursed his lips and shook his head.

“I’ll have Lowell do it. I got something else in mind for you.” Without another word, he walked off toward the clubhouse. You turned around and looked at Jax.

“Should I be worried?” You asked and he slowly shook his head.

“Nooo… but I will try to find out what it is. Come on, though- can’t be late to your own crow party.” You smiled as he took your hand and headed toward the clubhouse.

——

You were washing the shampoo out of your hair when you heard Gemma call your name from your room.

“In here!” You called out as you grabbed your conditioner. The bathroom door swung open and the sound of her heels clacked across the tile.

“I brought you two different color tube tops.” She said as you poked your head out of the shower curtain. She gave you a quick kiss before sitting down on the toilet. “Now, I know you wear a lot of black so I brought a black one but I have a peach one that I know will make your eyes just pop.” You smiled as you grabbed your body wash and poured some on your hand.

“Mom, if I wear the peach one it’s going to get blood and tattoo ink on it and it will be ruined.” She hummed and tapped her foot.

“Fair point. So wear the black one. The ink won’t show on that one. Are you wearing jeans again or could I convince…”

“Mom, will you let my old lady shower in peace?” Jax interrupted and you smiled as you washed out your conditioner.

“Oh alright. I’m just so happy for you two.” You heard her heels cross the tile floor again and you looked out of the shower at your boyfriend.

“I like the sound of that.” He chuckled as he walked over to you.

“Like the sound of that?” He cooed and you nodded as he gave you a kiss. You gently grabbed his chin and smirked at him.

“You know this makes you my old man, right.” He rolled his eyes as you giggled and gave him a chaste kiss before ducking back behind the curtain to finish rinsing off. You got out of the shower and quickly wrapped your towel around you as you headed over to your dresser.

“You ready to get branded?” Jax teased as he pulled on a clean shirt. You smiled and looked over at him.

“Is it going on my forehead?” You joked and he laughed and nodded.

“I’m doing it too.” You shook your head as you pulled on your jeans and Gemma’s shirt.

“I will let you give me a tattoo as long as I can give you one too.”

“Absolutely not! I’d end up with like a flower on my chest or some shit.” You glared at him as you brushed your hair.

“It wouldn’t be a flower, baby. It would be a mother fucking unicorn shittin’ a rainbow on your arm.” You threw your long wet hair up into a messy bun as Jax put on his kutte over a blue flannel shirt.

“Then I’d give you a giant middle finger on your back.” You pointed on him as you slipped on some flip flops.

“This is why you will never tattoo me.” He shrugged as he walked over and opened the door.

“Maybe I’ll just do it in your sleep.” You grabbed his hand and squeezed it as you headed toward the club.

“You even think about it Jax and I will kill you.” As you walked into the room, you were a little surprised by the amount of people that had showed up and even more surprised when they started cheering. Jax stopped and pulled you into his chest with a giant grin. For show, he spun you to the side and dipped you as he gave you a kiss and you smiled against his lips. He stood you up right and brushed his thumb across your cheek as he searched your eyes.

“I love you, (Y/N).” He said softly.

“I love you, too, Jax. Always will.” He gave you a chaste kiss before he reached down and took your hand.

“Come on. Let’s let the professional ink you up.” As you headed over toward the spot Happy had set his stuff up, your stomach suddenly clenched with nervousness. You could almost hear your brothers and your dad’s voices in your head yelling at you and telling you how stupid you were being. Almost as if he could read your mind, Jax stopped short and looked back at you. He pulled you to him and cupped your cheeks in his hands. “Listen, if you don’t want to…” You shook your head and smiled.

“First tattoo, babe. Little nerve wracking one way or another. I want this.” He held you in place for a few seconds before he nodded and smiled.

“It’s easy. I’ll be right there the whole time. Besides, I already have a question for you to distract you when he starts.” You cocked your eyebrow as he gave you a chaste kiss and before you could ask what the question was, you found yourself at Happy’s side. He gave you a quick hug before he showed you the crow design. It was identical to the one Gemma had.

“Umm… can I actually make one tiny request?” Both men looked up at you as you blushed as you pointed at the sketch. “Would it be possible to have Jax write out the word ‘forever’ and add his name at the bottom?” You looked up at him and gave a small shrug. “Makes it a personal for us.”

“I have no issue with that whatsoever.” Happy said as he grabbed a new sheet of sketch paper and a pencil from his bag.

“You’re too cute, do you know that babe?” Jax asked. You smiled as he kissed your forehead and he sat you down on the chair.

“Make sure you spell it right.” You teased as he took the pencil from Happy.

“Got it. F-U-C-K-Y-O-U.” He said as he wrote. You rolled your eyes and he laughed as he wrote his name. You showed Happy exactly where you wanted the tattoo while Jax went over and got himself a beer from the bar.

“So what is this question you have for me?” You asked as he grabbed a chair and pulled it to your side. He took your hand in his as Happy laid down the stencil against your skin.

“Well, I’ve heard Dean call you ‘Button’ like a dozen times. So, what’s the story behind the nickname?” You huffed a laugh as Jax glanced at the tattoo stencil and with a small nod, you heard the tattoo machine buzz to life. With a smile of encouragement, he squeezed your hand and you forced yourself to focus only on the blue eyes in front of you and your story as Happy got started.

“Well… when my mom dropped me off with my dad, she left me with this ugly brown teddy bear. Other than baby essentials, my birth certificate and my social security card, it was the only thing she gave him. That bear became my security blanket of sorts. When I was like 3 or 4 maybe, one of the eyes fell off when I was sleeping and when I woke up and saw my bear was ruined, I cried for hours. Dad had left us in a motel once again with Dean in charge and he didn’t know what to do. So, he ripped off one of the buttons of his shirt, borrowed some superglue from the front desk because he didn’t know how to sew, and he gave the bear a button eye. For some reason after that, the only part of the teddy bear that mattered to me was that button. Over time, the bear fell apart and I got rid of it but I kept the button; still have it sewed into the sleeve of my hunting jacket at the wrist. Dean started calling me ‘Button’ a few months after he fixed the bear and the nickname stuck.”

“That is freaking adorable.” Jax said.

“Shut up.” You said behind a yawn. He kissed your knuckles and chuckled.

“How come you don’t really talk about him?”

“About Dean? Well, Dean and I are 5 and a half years apart in age where as Sam and I are only a year and a half. We had to move a lot, so we never really had the chance to make friends. That combination made Sam my best friend almost by default. Dean and I didn’t really get that close like he and Sam did and I think it had something to do with the fact that I was a girl and the fact that I was only his half sister. See, he knew Mary; had four years with her as his mom before she died. So when I got dropped off a year after that by a different mother than his and he had to call me his sister? To a five year old, that’s kinda like a slap in the face to his mother’s memory.”

“So then what happened to your relationship with him when Sam went to Stanford?”

“It was complicated. My dad and Sam used to fight like cats and dogs because they have very similar personalities… but don't ever tell Sam I said that. Dean used to get in the middle and stop their fights and I typically stayed out of it. As we all got older, my dad started letting the boys take smaller jobs together but he started focusing more on what I was doing. He got a little over-protective and controlling when it came to me and cases he had and I spent a lot of time left behind to do research.

Of course, I wanted to be with my brothers that I knew better than I knew my own father so when I was forced to stay behind, it would start a fight. Then Sam would step in to protect me, Dean would step in to protect him… vicious circle. So when Sam took off for Stanford because he couldn’t take my dad’s shit anymore, dad spent a lot more time nit-picking what I was doing and Dean, went back and forth. Sometimes he would side with dad and make the situation worse, sometimes he would stay out of it completely and sometimes he would step in and defend me like he did Sam. Don’t get me wrong, I know Dean loves me but I always knew that it was a different kind of ‘sibling love’ then the kind he felt for Sam. I don’t blame him for it… that’s just Dean.”

“Sounds like one hell of a family circus.”

“It was; that’s why I left. Dean and my dad are nearly one in the same when it comes to work; they hear about a job, they go out, they take care of it, they move on to the next, repeat. After Sam left, dad deemed it time for Dean to start working on his own. Me being there and fighting with my dad just made Dean’s life more stressful and I didn’t want to do that to him or keep fighting with my dad and like I said, it was never my fight, anyways. So I walked away… and found you instead.” Jax smiled as he absentmindedly played with your fingers.

“Thank God for little miracles on that one.” You hummed in agreement as you rested your head against the back of the chair. It only took a minute for your mind to realize just how tired you were from less than three hours of sleep and a long day at work before you drifted off. What seemed like only seconds later, you were woken by a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“I don’t think I have ever seen someone fall asleep for a chest tattoo before.” You heard Happy say.

“I’m not sleeping, I’m just resting my eyes.” You grumbled. Jax laughed as you forced your eyes open.

“Babe, you have been sleeping for two hours.”

“I have not.” You falsely claimed as Happy handed you a mirror. “I heard everything you said.”

“Oh, yea? What were we just talking about?” Jax asked as you held the mirror out in front of you. A huge smile spread across your face as you looked at your crow.

“How amazing this tattoo looks and how Happy has never seen someone fall asleep for a chest tattoo.” Jax chuckled and gave you a kiss.

“I knew I should have written ‘smart ass’ after my name.”

“Move your face; mom didn’t make glass when she made you and I’m not done lookin’.” You sassed as you gave him a quick kiss before leaning around him to see. He stepped back and took a look himself with a smile on his face.

“Looks good, darlin’. You did a good job, Hap.” You looked up at your tattoo artist and nodded.

“Thank you. I love it.”

“It’s truly an honor.” You handed him his mirror and gave him a quick hug before you got up and wrapped your arms around Jax’s neck with a smile.

“Now the whole world knows I am all yours, baby.” He hummed and leaned down to kiss you as the sound of heels approached quickly.

“Alright, enough of that. I want to see my future daughter’s crow!” Gemma demanded. Jax smiled and rolled his head to the side.

“Mom, can I have a second with my old lady?”

“No.” Gemma said as she put her fists on her hips. “You can have her back after I see.” You laughed and turned in his arms so she could see. She tilted her head to the side as she lightly ran her fingertips just under her son’s name across your chest. “That’s your handwriting?” She asked and he nodded.

“Her idea. Gives it a personal touch for us.” She nodded and winked at you.

“Way to own it, honey.” As she walked away, you looked up at Jax.

“Cigarette and a beer?” He nodded and walked you over to the bar with his arms still around your waist.

“Hey… can we get my old lady a beer?” He called out to the bartender and was met with a collective shouted cheer from the room. You laughed and grabbed a barstool as Jax lit a cigarette for you.

“They are going to do that every time you say that tonight, aren’t they?” He nodded as he handed you your cigarette.

“It’s a big deal. It’s like the equivalent of an engagement party. Celebration all around.”

“Well I don’t mind celebrating being in love with you one bit.” He smirked down at you as he handed you a beer.

“Good because I don’t either.” Over the next few hours, nearly everyone had come over to look at your tattoo and congratulate the two of you. As the party started to thin out, Clay finally made his way over to you.

“Congratulations you guys. Crow looks good on you, (Y/N).”

“Thanks Clay.” He raised his beer and motioned to the two of you.

“I wanna see both of you in the office tomorrow morning.” Like he always did, he turned around and walked away. You looked over at Jax.

“I kinda feel like we should be worried.” He shrugged and draped his arm around your waist.

“Don’t be. He wants us both in there; probably just to privately congratulate us.” You nodded as you tried to stifle a yawn. “Tired baby?” You laughed and nodded.

“I feel asleep while I was getting a tattoo; what do you think?”

“I think, it’s bed time for me and the old lady.” Jax said loudly on purpose. You shook your head at him as the whole room cheered once more. You hopped off the stool and finished your beer.

“You’re such a dork.” You teased. Without warning, Jax bent down, put his shoulder into your stomach and lifted you off the ground. You fought to hold back your squeal as the few people around you laughed.

“Yea, well you’re stuck with me.” He said as he carted you through the room. He paused just long enough so the two of you could say good night to Gemma before he carried you, giggling to your room.

Part 5

#Jax x Reader #Half Blood Whole Heart #SOA/SPN crossover

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robininthelabyrinth · 7 years

Text

Countless Roads - Chapter 1

Fic: Countless Roads - Chapter 1 - Ao3

Fandom: Flash, Legends Pairing: Gen, Mick Rory/Leonard Snart, others

Summary: Due to a family curse (which some call a gift), Leonard Snart has more life than he knows what to do with – and that gives him the ability to see, speak to, and even share with the various ghosts that are always surrounding him.

Sure, said curse also means he’s going to die sooner rather than later, just like his mother, but in the meantime Len has no intention of letting superheroes, time travelers, a surprisingly charming pyromaniac, and a lot of ghosts get in the way of him having a nice, successful career as a professional thief.

A/N: Have an extra-long first chapter to get us properly started. All comments welcome and appreciated!

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"You stay the hell away from him!" the voice roars.

Len shakes and shudders and curls up in a ball on the floor.

Juvie is worse than he could have imagined – oh, the kids themselves are bad enough, pushy and mean and some of them are old enough for the look in their eyes to be more than standard schoolyard aggression, but it's only Len's first day; they're going to wait until the guards lose interest in him before trying anything.

The ghosts don't wait at all.

It's a bad place, a centering ground, land that stinks of sadness and anger and sucks in ghosts like a whirlpool. Human misery is the only company these ghosts have –

– at least, until Len arrives.

The unquiet dead gather their forces as he gets checked in, watch him, teeming with anticipation, in the yard, and then come for him right after dinner.

His own ghosts, bought in coin – pieces of future years – spent before he came, try their best to protect him, but he underestimated the number of unquiet dead lingering here. He underestimated the number of murderer's victims, children and adults, the number of suicides, the number of unlucky daredevils, the number of accidental deaths –

And then Mick – though Len doesn't know his name, not yet – rips them off of Len, one leech at a time, and puts himself between them and Len's shaking, spasming body.

"Hurts," Len rasps, unable to say more.

"Don't worry," the other boy says, glaring. He's big, for a teenager; a promise of height and breadth in the future. "I won't let them near."

"Gimme a hand up?" Len asks.

The boy shakes his head, and that's when Len realizes.

"You're dead too, ain't you," he says, flat as a stone.

"I've been here the longest," the boy responds, shrugging. "Since before they built the place."

Len sighs and climbs to his feet. He'd so hoped, seeing the boy’s strength, that he'd finally met another of his kind, but no; the boy's just another apparition. Barely that, even; he has a very strong presence, probably due to his age, but he’s not even a poltergeist on his own merits.

"Thanks," he tells him anyway, because apparition or not, the boy did just save his life.

"Don't mention it," the kid says.

The funny thing is, he really seems to mean it. No favors requested, no suggestions that Len repay him, nothing.

If anything, the guy seems to avoid Len whenever possible – which isn't much, because he comes rushing in whenever the unquiet ghosts float too close.

"Why are you helping me?" Len asks him.

"Don't like bullies," the kid says shortly. "Never did."

Then he retreats again, dashing away every time Len comes anywhere near him.

"Don't you want something?" Len asks. "Something you want to do?"

"Nah," the kid replies. "I'm good."

"You're a ghost. You gotta want something."

"Not from you, you little punk."

The curiosity is starting to get to Len. Finally, he gives up on trying to figure out the kid's angle and takes a different approach.

"What's your name?" he asks.

The kid-ghost blinks, then narrows his eyes at him warily. "What's it to you, necromancer?"

Len makes a face. "I ain't a necromancer," he protests. "I can't raise dead or command ‘em or nothing; I just make 'em closer to real, s'all. Life-sharing. Totally different."

“Uh-huh. And what about summoning ‘em and making ‘em possess people or something?”

“No, that’s mediums. I ain’t never even met one of those, but I hear they’re creepy. I just…share, s’all.”

"Why you want my name, then?" the kid asks, still suspicious.

"'cause I'm getting tired of calling you kid-ghost," Len replies, exasperated. "And right now I don't got anything to shout if I need your attention."

"You've always got my attention," the kid grumbles. "My ma says you give someone your name, you give 'em power over you."

Len rolls his eyes. "Well, my name is Leonard Snart, but sometimes when my mom got mad she’d use the full on Leonard Jacob Snart birth certificate business. Now you know, so don't misuse it. And nice to meet you."

The kid finally cracks an involuntary grin. It changes his whole tough face, making it go bright and delighted, smashing that tough guy image with glee. "Oh what the heck," he says. "I'm Mick. That's Michael Christopher Sebastian Rory, actually, but everybody called me Mick."

"Nice to meetcha, Mick," Len says. "I'd offer to shake, but...well…" He wiggles his fingers. Magic, life-giving fingers.

Mick sniggers.

Maybe there is something to what Mick's ma said about names, because after that they're inseparable. Best friends from different eras, friends like neither of them ever had before. Maybe they’d have been best friends in this life, if only Mick wasn’t dead, but Len will take friendship with a ghost over nothing.

The other kids think Len's crazy, talking to himself, and ostracize him, relegating him to the outcast table with the quiet dangerous ones like Jumping Jimmy and Shrieking Sam and Cuckoo Charlie. (Len gets dubbed Lunatic Leo, which, ugh. He’s going to find a better nickname if it kills him.)

But really, Len doesn't mind where he sits, so long as he's got Mick.

Sitting at the crazy outcast table is kinda funny, actually; Mick's a pretty good judge of people, Len's found, and his invisible commentary over people's heads is hilarious.

"He's just got no volume control and a spoiled temper," Mick says of Sam. "Nothing to worry about."

"Ma said people like him just had a devil in 'em keeping them from sitting still," he says of Jimmy. "It ain't no problem, long as they keep busy."

"And Charlie?" Len asks, amused.

Mick considers this. "I think he's gonna grow up to eat people. Stay away."

Len snorts, but does.

Mick’s damn useful in a fight, which Len does inevitably get into, shouting advice (mostly “duck” and “hit him in the face”), and Mick likes watching fights, too. But most of all, Mick likes fighting the unquiet ghosts himself; in particular, he's got a real hatred of a group of white supremacists that got themselves stabbed in a gang fight back when the juvie was a real prison. They hate Len, which makes sense what with him being Jewish and all, but they still want his life, and that just pisses them off more, which means more fights for Mick.

"You like punching Nazis, huh?" Len teases.

"Hell yes," Mick says. "They're bad stuff, through and through."

"Regular Captain America you are."

"Who?"

“What d’you mean, who? Captain America! From the comic books!”

“I’m dead,” Mick points out. “I don’t keep up on popular culture.”

“No way,” Len says stubbornly. “Captain America’s been around forever. I’m pretty sure he was drawn punching Hitler in the face on his very first cover.”

“Say, that’s not bad,” Mick says, grinning a bit. “Punched him in the face, you say?”

“Didn’t you read comics?”

“Sure I did,” Mick says, crossing his arms. “Joe Palooka, Dick Tracey, Flash Gordon, Buck Rogers – the whole lot of ‘em.”

“What the hell are those?”

“You don’t know those?”

“I think I’ve heard of Buck Rodgers – he a spaceman or something?”

“Yeah, him and Flash Gordon, both of ‘em. Dick Tracey’s a sleuth, and Joe Palooka’s a boxer.”

“Don’t you got any crime fighters? Like in costumes? Superheroes?”

Mick wrinkles his nose when he frowns in thought. “Uh, I mean, I guess maybe the Phantom? It was brand new; real cool stuff, fighting pirates and stuff. They called him the Ghost Who Walks. Real sweet.”

“Brand new,” Len says, shaking his head. “When did you die again? The dark ages?”

“Eh, may as well have been,” Mick says. “We all thought the world was ending.”

“Every generation thinks the world’s ending.”

“Nah, not like ours,” Mick says. “Between the Depression and – what was it they were calling the black blizzards, the Dust Bowl? Anyway, between those two, it was real bad.”

“Wait,” Len says. “When exactly did you die?”

“Late 1936.”

“Shit. You are old.”

“Told ya,” Mick says smugly.

“Was there even a juvie here?”

Mick rolls his eyes. “No,” he says. “The juvie’s only a decade or two old. Before that it was a prison. Before that, it was a particularly badly run farm.”

“…your farm?”

“Well, yes.”

“You were a farmer?! Working the fields, calling in the cows, all that sort of thing?”

“I died first,” Mick reminds Len.

“But still – you’re so old.”

“Shut up.”

“No, no – it’s just – I’m gonna get you all the comics,” Len says, and does, even if it means spending some of his hard-earned money – all the juvie kids get pennies for every hour they work in addition to the required school time – and that of others (mostly the rich kids who get some from their parents in the mail) on some of the old reprints, the ones that go real cheap nowadays and are kinda corny by modern standards. But it's worth it.

Mick loves comics.

He can’t move the pages himself – not unless Len gives him some life, which Mick steadfastly refuses to accept – but Len can flip them nice and slow, letting Mick have time to read each page, and sometimes when Mick’s eyes keep crossing the letters too much to make it fun, Len reads them aloud to him, sound effects and all.

“Man, the library says Snow White hadn’t even come out in 1936,” Len marvels. “You know that? Snow White, man. That’s like the first ever Disney.”

“No, it ain’t,” Mick objects. “Disney’s the one with the shorts, ain’t it? Steamboat Willy. Silly Symphonies. Three Little Pigs.”

“Mick,” Len says solemnly. “You break my heart.”

“I sometimes watch that Disney stuff when they’re on the rec room TV,” Mick says, pouting. “I ain’t totally uncultured. S’just hard to remember stuff from after you’re dead, s’all.”

“You’re running out of life,” Len says, because he’s heard of it happening before. “Ghosts stick around because of what happened during their life, and they only remember what happened afterwards if they’ve got enough left over for it – you sure I can’t give you some?”

“No, Lenny,” Mick says, long-suffering.

Len sulks, and introduces Mick to Alice in Wonderland the next time the rec room’s free.

Probably a tactical error, since Mick shouts, “Off with their heads!” the next fifteen times he dukes it out with the unquiet dead, but hey, it’s funny.

“How’d you die?” Len asks one day, when he’s only got two weeks left to go in juvie, studying a deck of cards he’d lifted from a fellow student.

“Why do you want to know?” Mick asks, suddenly guarded.

“’cause I’m a nosy bastard,” Len says, since he can’t explain why he actually wants to know, which is that he wants to give Mick a gift. The dead carry on them what died when they died – clothing, stuff in their pockets, that sort of stuff. But Len’s found that if stuff ‘dies’ the same way a ghost does, he can hand it to the ghost and they can keep it.

He hopes it’s not something too weird. He doesn’t want to have to hang a deck of cards, or electrocute it, or have it get run over by a herd of chickens or something.

…that last one would be hilarious, though.

Mick grunts.

“Please?” Len says, which is rare enough that Mick gives him a suspicious look. “Not like I’m gonna tell anyone.”

Mick stays silent a few minutes longer, and then, abruptly, he gets up.

Len blinks up at him.

“Fire,” Mick says. “I died in a fire.” And then he disappears.

Len scowls in the direction of Mick’s ghostly self. He didn’t feel any passing-on-ness, or whatever you call it when a ghost kicks the bucket for good, so Mick’s just gone somewhere else to sulk because heaven forbid Len tries to learn some personal info about the guy beyond what type of breakfast he prefers (answer: corn mush with milk, or yesterday’s bread crusts – ick!).

On the other hand, it did give Len a bit of an opportunity.

Fire, huh?

Sounds like an unpleasant way to die, but at least it makes giving Mick stuff easier. Lifting a lighter from the guard that likes to smoke is easy enough, and finding a nice shady corner on top of lots of concrete to minimize excess burning is even easier.

Now he just needs Mick.

“Mick?” he asks the air.

No reply.

“Mick, you still sulking?”

Nothing.

“Mick, I could be being attacked right now. I’m not, but I could be.”

Zip.

Len contemplates pretending to die, but that seems a bit melodramatic.

“Hey! Mickey Mouse!”

Still nothing.

Hmm, and Len was sure that that would get him a punch in the face…

Mick couldn’t be gone, could he?

Len swallows. He really hopes Mick’s not gone. He knows that's wrong - you're supposed to hope that ghosts move on, not want them to stay - but he doesn't. He doesn't want Mick to go.

“Hey, Lunatic!” Tommy, one of the more annoying juvie kids, shouts. “Lost your imaginary friend?”

Len grits his teeth.

“Bet he left you ‘cause you were wasting his time,” Tommy taunts. “Poor kooky kid, what’ll he do all on his own?”

It’s just close enough to Len’s real fears that Len ends up punching Tommy in the face.

And then, as expected, spending the next ten minutes getting punched back by Tommy and his friends. And kicked. And –

Okay, the guards really should be intervening. Any time now.

“Hey, hold him down,” Evan Richards says. Evan Richards, never just Evan; he’s the sort of kid that would be – should be – exiled to the crazy person table, but he’s rich and his parents send him loads of treats, so he’s not. He’s got a big old grin on his face that Len doesn’t trust a jot.

“Why?” Tommy says skeptically. “He’s not getting up on his own anytime soon.”

Probably not true – Len’s a stubborn bastard – but closer than he’d like to admit.

Evan Richards’s grin widens. “I’ve always wanted to see what one of these does,” he says, and pulls out a little Swiss army contraption, used mostly for clipping or filing nails, that he’s sharpened well past any reasonable amount.

He’d probably call it a knife, Evan Richards would, but to people like Len, it’s called a shiv.

Shit.

“Mick!” Len screams, because he doesn’t trust the guards but Mick’s always come to help him before – if he’s still here.

The returning bellow of rage is the finest sound Len’s ever heard, right up there with Lisa’s first word (‘up’, as it happens; nothing but the best for his demanding little darling).

But Mick’s a ghost, barely even an apparition, and though he charges the fuckers that are holding Len down, he can’t do anything, just passes straight through, causing no more than a slight chill and a shudder.

“Mick, please,” Len says, struggling and kicking and keeping Richards back, just long enough, just long enough to get a hand free and reach out –

“God, he’s nuts,” Tommy laughs, and the others laughs with him. “Go for it – waste the cuckoo – no one’ll care –”

Mick reaches out and takes Len’s hand in his, and Len pushes, hard, with all the spare life he’s got in him.

Mick yowls, and Len can feel it too, like a zap from touching a live wire or a burst of static electricity, but then Mick’s there and all the kids are turning to look, shouting in surprise and demanding to know where the hell Mick came from and then Mick puts his fist into Evan Richards’ smirking face.

Three black eyes and a hell of a lot of bruises later, the gang breaks up and flees.

“Thanks,” Len pants. He’s pretty damn sore, and it’s only gonna get worse, but he has to find out if Mick’s okay – Mick, who didn’t want the extra power – the extra life –

“Holy crap,” Mick says, staring down at his hands. “I felt that. They felt that. That was – Len?”

“You angry at me?” Len asks. He’s feeling weirdly dizzy, the way you get if you haven’t eaten for three days and then you go sprinting from the cops. Everything hurts, but distantly, like he can’t really feel it.

“Angry – no, it’s not – Len, you’re looking real pale, you feeling okay?”

“Peachy,” Len says, and passes out.

When he wakes up, he’s in a bed in the nurse’s station, and Mick’s scowling at him from the next bed over.

Len’s got an IV.

Why’s he got an IV?

“Mick, why’ve I got an IV?” he asks.

Mick’s eye twitches.

“Uh,” Len says. “Mick?”

“That’s your first question?!” Mick roars.

“…yes?” Len says helplessly. “What, should I’ve started with ‘how are you’?”

Mick looks like he's considering strangling Len.

"I'm sorry," Len offers. Might as well get that out, if Mick’s already mad.

"What?" Mick says, annoyance disappearing into confusion. "Sorry for what?"

"For, you know," Len says, shrugging. "Prying. And sharing my life when you've been real clear you didn't want me to be sharing with you."

Mick stares at him for a long moment. "Len," he says eventually. "It ain't – you don't think it's your fault that I ain't taking bits of your life, do you?"

Well, when Mick says it in that incredulous tone, it sounds kinda dumb.

Len focuses on picking at the band-aid over the IV entry point on the inside of his elbow instead of replying, even though he knows that only reveals his guilt.

"Lenny, stop that," Mick says. "You need the IV."

"You never did say what it was for," Len says.

"It's to keep you alive, you nimrod. You nearly shoved all the life you had left up my goddamn arm."

"If Richards got me with the shiv, I wouldn't've had any life left to give," Len points out, but yeah, he distinctly remembers overdoing it in his panic. "S'that why I pass out like that?"

"That's why you swooned like a leading lady," Mick confirms.

Len glares. "Passed out, Mick."

"Whatever. Len – It ain't that I don't like you, or your life, or even having some of it myself, 'cause lemme tell you, being practically solid's been pretty awesome so far – "

"You're practically solid?" Len interrupts. "I ain't never done that before – "

"Lenny. Lemme finish. This is important."

Len shuts up.

"Anyway," Mick says. "What I mean to say is – I mean – oh, damnit. Len, I don't deserve any of your life."

"You just saved my life," Len says, unable to keep quiet. "Just as you've been doing this past month – "

"I started the fire!" Mick shouts. "I'm a firebug, and I knew it was bone dry, and I started that fire anyways, and that’s why everybody died! It was all my fault! I don't deserve nothing!"

"Oh," Len says blankly.

"Yeah," Mick says savagely, wiping at his face to clean up what they'd both pretend weren't tears when this was over. "So that's why."

Len nods. He's not sure what to say. He doesn't think anything will help a wound so deep that Mick became a ghost over it.

"I've heard of it before," he offers eventually. "Pyromania, it's called."

"What's that?"

"It's – " Len tries to remember. "It's a thing that happens to people, some chemical goes wrong in their brain, and then they start needing to light fires. Like an anxiety thing – can't calm down until there's a fire."

Mick frowns. “There’s a word for it?”

“Yeah,” Len says. “People that can’t help themselves around fires. It’s a medical thing.”

Mick looks stunned.

“What, thought it was just you?” Len jokes, except the look on Mick’s face kinda says that he did. “No, Mick, it ain’t you, if I’m right. It’s a – it’s a thing that happens sometimes, and no one’s to blame, you know. Sometimes people’s brains break, just like any bone, and you need medicine or something like that for it.”

“I still lit the fire,” Mick says, but he seems a little less burdened. “After they told me not to and everything. And even if I didn’t have a choice, I still should’ve warned ‘em about it.”

“That’s on you,” Len says, because people who say it’s not your fault when it is just make you feel worse. “But the fire thing, that ain’t –”

“How are you boys doing?” the nurse says, sweeping in.

“Fine,” Len says automatically, before realizing what she’d said.

He turns to stare at Mick. “Boys?” he mouths at him. What was with the plural?

“Told you I was near solid,” Mick mutters. “Hi, ma’am,” he says to the nurse.

“How are you feeling, Mr. Rory? You were having quite a fit out there.”

“Much better, ma’am.”

“We’ve alerted the police about your being here,” she continues briskly. “Since your name isn’t on the list.”

Len’s eyes go real wide at that.

“Yes, ma’am,” Mick says tranquilly.

“And you, Mr. Snart, how are you feeling?”

“Uh,” Len says. “Okay?”

“Do you need more medicine?”

“Yes,” Len says, because the answer is always yes. Even if you don’t actually need it, you can always sell it.

Also, he’s kinda sore. All over. Everywhere.

Actually, it hurts a lot. Fuzzy and distant, like he’s got good drugs going on, but still not good.

“Is anything gonna happen to the kids what did it?” Mick asks. “Evan Richards and Tommy and the rest of ‘em?”

The nurse looks slightly uncomfortable. “They’ll be punished,” she says, but Len can tell she means that they’ll be slapped on the wrist, at most. Maybe a bit of time in detention instead of out on the school yard.

Well, good enough for Len. He never did trust anyone to give out punishment on his behalf; he’ll figure out a way to pay them back himself later on.

That’s not what’s important right now.

Len waits until the nurse checks them both over and leaves.

“Mick,” he hisses. "They can see you!"

“Told you!”

“What are we gonna do? Your name’s not gonna be on any records! Not any they’re gonna check, anyway!”

“Don’t worry,” Mick says. “It’s fine. It’s fading away already, since you gave it to me all in one shot – look, I’m practically able to go through the bed again. Another day - another couple of hours - and I’ll be back to being invisible if I wanna be.”

“If you wanna be? You’ll still be a full-powered manifestation?”

“You gave me a lot of life, Lenny,” Mick says disapprovingly.

Len shrugs, then brightens and checks his pockets. Good, they didn’t take the cards, or the lighter. “Here,” he says, holding them out. “Burn this.”

Mick stares at him.

“What?”

“I tell you I’m a pyro- a pyro-many – that I’m a firebug, and you gimme something to burn?”

“You died in a fire,” Len says reasonably. “If you burn the cards, you’ll be able to carry ‘em with you as a ghost, even once all the life’s gone.”

Mick’s eyes go wide. “Really?”

“Really. They gotta die with you, or something. Same way you died. Anyways, if you’re a pyromaniac, you’ll enjoy watching them burn, too.”

“That’s what you wanted me to come ‘round for, wasn’t it?” Mick asks, looking guilty.

“It’s fine,” Len says, pushing the cards and lighter into Mick’s hands. “Really – say, how much life I give you, anyway?”

“Why?” Mick asks, pulling the cards and lighter close and cradling them.

“Well – and you don’t gotta do this if you don’t wanna, but – how bound would you say you are to this place?”

Mick blinks.

“I want you to come home with me,” Len clarifies.

Mick’s eyes go wide.

#dccoldwave #mick rory #leonard snart #my fic #deadfic

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serpent-jugheadjones · 7 years

Text

Little Miss Jellybean - Phone Calls - Part 5

Pairing: Jughead Jones x Jellybean Jones / Implied Jughead Jones x Reader

Description: Jughead’s only form of communication with his sister is through phone calls.

Warnings: None I can think of.

Word Count: 1500

A/N: I’m sorry it’s been so long since I posted, long story short I had to spend a few days in the hospital, and that’s not really the most stimulating place. Thank you my twin @southsidejuggie for the inspiration. I planned on having their lyrics included in the fic, turns out I’m not a song writer, so it didn’t work. The Partner Revealed Part 6 is still a work in progress, I’ll try to get it done as soon as possible.

Jughead is vaguely staring outside Archie’s window into Y/N’s room, wondering if she’s home and whether he should climb her balcony again. Just as he’s about to text her to announce he’s coming, he gets a call from his sister.

“Hello, Jellybean, my one and only sister. How great of you to call.”, he answers the phone sarcastically.

“That’s better than your latest greeting, but next time tone it down a notch.”, she teases.

“What? That was too much for you, baby sis?” They both giggle.

“So, Jughead Jones working construction.”, Jellybean exposes, intrigued at the news she got. “Didn’t take you for a laborer.”

“How do you know?”, he hypothesizes where she could’ve gotten that information. “It was one time, as a favor.”

“I have my sources. You’re not the only detective in the family.”, she jokes.”Ironic that you, the one trying to save the land, has to work on it’s destruction.”, she points out, conflicted between sadness and inevitability.

“Sometimes there are more important things than holding grudges. Mr. Andrews was there for me when no one else was. I owed him. Still do.”, he shares.

“You are too pure for this world, brother.”, his sister observes.

“Some would disagree with you.”, he protests, preparing to justify his point of view. “Archie found out about dad.”

“I know.”, Jellybean reveals. “Archie texted me. He was furious.”

“Yeah, I got the wrath of Archibald in front of Y/N.” Jughead shows a great deal of discontent in his voice.

“I’m sorry she had to find out that way.” JB knows it was inevitable for Y/N to eventually see that for herself.

“It was surprisingly fine. Y/N told me she had her suspicions and that it doesn’t change anything between us.” He laughs, wondering how he got so lucky. “But what did Arch tell you?”

“A bunch of crap. People say a lot of stuff they don’t mean when they’re mad.”, she tries to spare her brother of his best friend’s rage impulsed words. “I made sure he knew it was all bull and it would be stupid to throw away years of friendship over our dad’s mistakes.”

“Sounds like the only thing keeping us together is your golden words of advice.” That makes his sister laugh. “Since when are you guys in contact anyways?”

“Since you sent me the songs. Had to give him my review.”, she answers, remembering her words to Archie (You should work on building lyrics structure not infrastructure). “He also edited a song me and Mad’s wrote to sing at the school’s talent show.”

“How come I’m only hearing about this now?”, he questions, a little hurt that his sister kept that from him and not Archie, even though he was the one to suggest his friend to help them.

“We weren’t sure we were going to perform it. We just started practicing.”, she explains with some reluctance. “But when Archie sent us the finished lyrics, we HAD to.”

“Please tell me you have it on video.” He understands his sister didn’t want to tell him something and then fail, but he’s still hurt he missed her first performance.

“Yeah! Mom recorded it. I’ll send it to you now.”, she says bubbly.

Jellybean hangs up and soon after Jughead’s phone get a notification. “Call me back after you finish it.” Attached with the video. He plays it immediately.

Jughead watches Jellybean and Mads get on the stage. His sister’s teased hair in high pigtails with bright pink extensions, sparkly silver make up, her whole outfit a mix of 80’s David Bowie and School of Rock which he found fit her perfectly. They start playing and Jug can’t hold a grin. JB sings in a Joan Jett like voice the amazing lyrics two 12-year-olds wrote and it sounded professional, at least for his ears. As soon as the video ends, he calls his sister, still smiling through his teeth.

“ What do you think? I know it’s short and raw but we didn’t have much time to work on musicality. It’s still too ‘Ramones’ for our liking...”, she rambles nervously.

“Forsthia!”, he interrupts her rambling, knowing her real name would get her attention. “You started a band without knowing how to play, wrote a song, kicked ass with your guitar, and delivered a killer performance.” Jughead wishes he could’ve been there to tell her that face to face.

“You think so?”, she asks, relief and joy filling her words.

“You’re a natural talent, stubborn in a good way. You’re unstoppable. When you put something in your head you make it happen. I can’t wait to see how far you’ll go.”, he tells her proudly.

“Don’t make me cry, Juggie. And don’t worry. I won’t be a sell-out like Archie. You gotta keep an eye on that boy.” JB tries to stop the conversation from getting too serious.

“So you’re really up to date with the news? Can’t do much if he’s pimping himself out.”, Jughead condemns.

“You know he doesn’t have a filter on what he says. If you’re a good friend, make sure he learns how to think twice. Arch is impulsive and that will lead him to some pretty bad spots.”, she warns her brother.

“Tell me about it. I think escorting Cheryl to her crazy family’s events are already as bad as it gets.”, he chuckles, knowing exactly how hard it is to keep his friend from acting on instinct rather than reason. “But tell me how you became one with your musical instrument so fast?”

“Oh, right. Mr. Mason let me borrow one of his guitars. My choosing, he said. Their house is like the rock museum. He has a huge variety of Les Pauls and Gibsons, but I gotta start small, so I went basic: dark green Fender Stratocaster '62.” Jughead doesn’t undertand much about brands and such, but he listens intently about his sister’s passion. “So I watched a Youtube video on simple accords and how to make them sound original. I’m not sure sure how much of it we got, but it sure is SIMPLE.” She laughs nervously.

“Autodidact much, huh? Did you girls find a name for the band already?” Jug is quite curious.

“No, we haven’t found anything that really represents us. Mads suggested Dark Basilisk. You and me both know why it doesn’t work, but she can’t get the irony.” In fact, Jellybean hopes her friend never does.

“How about ’Mad Beans’?” Jughead is overjoyed to be involved in it.

“It’s perfect, Jug. Thanks.” Jellybean writes it down on her notebook to tell Maddison later. “Anyways. What’s the update on the Jason Blossom sleuthing?”, she inquires.

“Y/N heard the Serpents had something to do with Jason dealing drugs and we went to ask dad about it. He confessed his guys provided Jason with the get-away car under the condition that he carried their ‘product’ out of town.” He doesn’t see the point on keeping secrets from her, however bad it sounds.

Jellybean stays silent, with her free hand covering her agape mouth, not entirely shocked her father is involved in a crime, but rather scared from their safety if someone else finds out.

“He didn’t kill him, if that’s what you’re thinking.”, he tries to make it perfectly clear, scared of his sister’s silence.

“It didn’t even cross my mind, Jug. Dad made some wrong decisions, but he’s not a killer. I know that.”, she eases her brother’s fear. “I’m just scared for you.”

“I’m gonna find whoever did it and it will all be over, don’t worry.”

“I’m already worried.”, she admits. “I have to go. Mom says I can’t practice guitar until my homework is done.”

“She’d tell me that too, but it’s easier to pretend to do homework when your hobby is writing.” He laughs. “And starting now I’m the first to hear anything from you, ok?

“Okay. Juggie, don’t show dad the video...”, she whispers.

“My mouth is sealed. Bye, JB.” He knows she just wants her father to see it when her band is way better.

Jughead hangs up and heads to Y/N’s house to show her the video, as Jellybean didn’t say anything about anyone else. He just knows Y/N/N will love it just as much as he did. On his way down the stairs of Andrew’s house, he finds Archie playing his guitar in the living room. “Hey man, thank you for helping JB with the band.”, Jug shows his deep appreciation to his friend. “No problem.”, Archie replies as if it weren’t such a big deal.

#Jughead Jones #Jellybean Jones #Jughead Jones x Jellybean Jones #Forsythe Pendleton Jones III #forsythia pendleton jones #Riverdale #Jughead Jones x Reader #riverdale imagine #jughead jones imagine #Thank you mom for proofreading #Jughead x Reader #Riverdale Imagines #Jughead Jones Imagines #Juggie Jones #fanfic #imagine #Jughead Jones III

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iheartgod175 · 7 years

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So We Meet Again

A/N: I forgot to put up part two of “Spring In His Step”.

This is technically supposed to be part of my Yogi's Treasure Hunt fic, but seeing as I'm still stuck on the technical aspects of the story, I'll probably leave this as a continuation. I had fun doing this little chapter, especially with the references to "Blazin' Trails". Of course, most of the events mentioned here are pretty much AU in regards to that series.

Anyway, I'll shut up and let you guys read the story.

Summary: Another case involving a well known treasure thief has Snooper and Blabber heading back to the FBI to meet with Special Agent Ricochet Rabbit, and things haven't changed a bit. Well, maybe a few things. It's been five years after all. Continuation to "Spring In His Step".

Disclaimer: I still don't own Snooper, Blabber, Ricochet Rabbit or Droop-a-Long Coyote. They are property of Hanna-Barbera and Warner Bros.; Lucky is an OC that Vulaan Kulaas and I created, Drag-a-Long and Serena are Vulaan Kulaas', while Caroline, Chance, Rose, Trevor, Denise and Melissa (the latter two are only mentioned) are my OCs.

Snooper sighed as he and Blabber pulled up in front of the FBI's secret headquarters. "Five years later, and they still haven't learned their lesson," he muttered, glancing at the neon signs around the building. It looked like they'd gotten some new ones since last time.

"Well, at least it was easy to find, Snoop," Blabber replied, giving the cat a bright smile.

Snooper sighed. He considered the mouse to be one of his good friends, but sometimes, he was too naïve for his own good. "That's exactly what I mean, Blab," he said as he got out of the car. "Anyhoo, let's make this quick so we can get back on the Jolly Roger."

"I'm looking forward to seein' Special Agent PING-PING-PING Ricochet again, Snoop," Blabber said.

"Aw, not you too," Snooper groaned. Thankfully, the rabbit only said it when he introduced himself, but he was still not used to that, even though it'd been five years and his former deputy told him that it was his catchphrase. "Next thing I know you're gonna try an' ricochet across the room like him."

"Well, I've been working on it, Snoop, and I think I should leave it to the professional," Blabber replied. "I kept crashing into things."

"Is that why there were so many holes in the office walls?"

A pause. "...maybe...?"

Snooper started to say something, but that was when someone called their names from the other side of the room. The two detectives turned to face the person who'd called them: a tall, lanky coyote with pink fur and wearing a dark blue uniform. His dark green eyes were warm and friendly as he came over to them.

"Howdy, Mr. Snooper, Mr. Blabber," he said. "I haven't seen you fellas in a while."

"Aw, shucks, I told ya you don't have to call me 'Mr. Blabber', Sheriff Droop-a-Long," Blabber said. "Just Blabber is fine."

"Heh, sorry 'bout that," Droop-a-Long replied. "It's a habit of mine."

"Greetin's, Sheriff," Snooper replied. "You know where we can find the whereabouts of your former boss?"

"Oh, he's right in that room over yonder," Droop-a-Long said. "He moved to a brand new office a few months ago. I'd take ya to him myself, but I've gotta watch the little ones."

Snooper quirked an eyebrow. "Little ones?"

No sooner did he say that than two children came racing down the hallway, toy airplanes in their hands. In the lead was a grey furred rabbit with white and light blonde hair and deep blue eyes. He was on the run from a white-furred she-rabbit with yellow sclera and light brown eyes. Her white hair was tied up in a small flipped ponytail.

Snooper and Blabber barely avoided getting bowled over. Droop-a-Long turned to face them as they raced past. "Lucky! Caroline! Be careful, there are folks walkin' about!" he said.

"Sure thing, Uncle Droop-a-Long," both of them replied.

"By the way, Chance is at the food court again," Lucky replied. "Rosie an' Trevor were playin' by the boss' office."

Droop-a-Long groaned. "I'm gonna have a long talk with that boy 'bout leavin' his sister an' brother like that," he said. He turned towards Snooper and Blabber with a sheepish smile. "Sorry ta leave ya like this, but I've gotta go. I'll have to chat with you two later!" He then raced down the hall, leaving a stunned pair of detectives standing in the hallway.

"...Droop-a-Long has kids now?" Blabber asked. "And he's an uncle?"

"Uh, apparently so," Snooper said. "I guess we'll have to get our answers from Ricochet himself."

The two walked down the hallway, where Ricochet's name was screwed above the door to their right in a bright gold plaque. Snooper knocked on the door, and Ricochet shouted from inside, "I already told you kids, no, I'm not givin' ya any more money to buy sweets! Wait until dinner!"

"Uh, it's Detecitives Snooper and Blabber, Ric," Snooper said. "Ya know, the two ya met a few years ago?"

"Oh! Oh, goodness, I'm sorry! Come on in! An' mind the wires," Ricochet replied.

Snooper opened the door and nearly fell flat on his face due to the tangle of cords that ran from the side of the wall to Ricochet's desk, which currently had a computer, printer, scanner and coffeemaker. Sitting in front of the computer was Ricochet,who was typing away with a speed that could put anyone to shame.

"Hi, Special Agent Ricochet!" Blabber called.

"Howdy thar, Blab, Snoop!" Ricochet got down from the desk and walked over to them. That was a surprise to Snooper, as he'd normally bounce off of the walls to greet them. "How are ya?"

"Uh, pretty good, Ric," Snooper said. "Droop-a-Long tells us that you got a new office, eh?"

"Yeah. Comes with the new position, too," Ricochet said. He puffed up with pride. "You two are lookin' at Supervisory Special Agent PING-PING-PIIIIINNNGGG Ricochet Rabbit!"

There he goes with that pingin'. "Is that so?" Snooper asked.

"Mm-hmm. My former deputy-turned-sheriff, Droop-a-Long Coyote, is workin' his way to becomin' a Special Agent," Ricochet explained. "I was kinda surprised to hear about it, though—ol' Droop usually drifts from one job to another, but I heard that he was asked to be in it after his stint as a marshal."

"He was a marshal, too?" Blabber asked.

"Yup; he told me about it personally, too!" Ricochet said. "That surprised me a lot, but not nearly as much as when he told me he got married."

"He did?!" Blabber exclaimed.

"That would explain where the kids came from, Blab," Snooper said.

Ricochet chuckled when he saw their surprised expressions. "That was my exact reaction," he said. "Then again, I can't talk. He completely flipped out when I told 'im I was getting married."

"You did?!" Blabber exclaimed again.

"Ya did?" Snooper asked, being much more cool about it than his assistant.

"Eh-heh, well, it's a pretty long story," Ricochet replied, blushing slightly. "But long story short, I ended up marryin' an old flame of mine an' now I've got a daughter to look after, although not after I adopted a little boy who was a 'special case' in the FBI."

"'Special case'?" Blabber asked.

"Mm-hmm. My son, Lucky," Ricochet said. "It's his birthday today, so later on I'm takin' him out for ice cream."

"That other kid Droop-a-Long was talkin' to earlier...he's your son?" Snooper asked.

Ricochet nodded. "He's also Droop-a-Long's nephew."

"How is that possible?" Blabber asked.

"I know it's a lot ta process, but...his pa was a renowned criminal and his ma was a gang leader who declared war on the law," he said. "She wasn't around, an' his pa treated him horribly. An' that's the nicest way to put it. He broke 'im before he turned four years old." His eyes narrowed, and his voice lowered to a growl. "He didn't even give him a name on top of all the crap he put 'im through, that savage-"

Snooper ducked, and half of a pencil went flying over his head and hit the ground behind him. "Whoa, uh, Ric? I hope that pencil wasn't company property."

Ricochet looked down at the other end of the pencil he held in his hand, and sighed. "Sorry 'bout that. It just angers me, you know?" He set the pencil down. "You didn't want to be thar when I first heard of all that Lucky's father did to that boy."

"What did you do?" Blabber asked.

"I threw a chair against the wall. It's the reason why I had to move to a new office," Ricochet answered.

"...oh."

"I can't blame ya," Snooper said. "It sounds like it was tough case."

"It was. Aside from the business of findin' his parents, I had to take Lucky in until we found a home for him," Ricochet continued. "I was the one who named 'im Lucky, since it was a mircale he survived that long under his pa. It took a while, but he slowly came out of his shell, an' he warmed up to folks, 'specially to me. After we sent his parents to prison, Droop-a-Long took him in since he's immediate family, but Lucky wanted to stay with me. An' so, I adopted him."

"Awww..." Blabber said. "That's so nice."

"Heheh, yeah. I don't even say that he's my 'adopted son' or anythin' like that. I jus' call him what he is: my son. An' I love him an' Caroline equally." Ricochet paused and stared at Blabber in confusion. "Why, Blabber, you're cryin'!"

The mouse pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his eyes. "I can't help it. T-That was so touching..."

"Uh, yeah," Snooper replied. "Not ta ruin your touchin' story, Ric, but we've actually come here on assignment."

"Hmm? Oh! Oh, right. Sorry 'bout that," Ricochet said. "Well, to be honest, it feels good to talk about somethin' other than work. But now it's back to business." He paused upon hearing squeals from outside the office, followed by Droop-a-Long shouting, "Come on, kids! Put that back!" He sighed. "Well, hopefully we can get back to business. I've been interrupted so many times today I've lost count."

"Why are the kids here anyway?" Blabber said.

"It's 'Bring Your Kids To Work' Day," Ricochet said. "So Droop-a-Long and I have double duty."

Snooper sighed. "This is why I'm never havin' kids," he said. Ricochet's chuckle brought about a raised eyebrow. "What's so funny?"

"I wouldn't say that too soon," he replied. "You might meet a pretty female-type person who'll win ya over an' that'll probably change your mind. Trust me, I know."

"What?" Snooper replied, utterly flabbergasted.

"I mean, ya do have a lot of female contacts," Ricochet said, a sly smirk on his face. "Maybe one of them would be the future 'Mrs. Super Snooper'."

Snooper groaned, while Blabber tried (and failed) to cough back a laugh. Ricochet still hadn't stopped teasing him about that, even though it's been five years. "Back to the point, Ric..."

"Alright, alright, Mr. Businesscat. I'll get back to it. Jus' come over to the computer an' I'll find it for ya," Ricochet said.

"Much obliged," Snooper said, picking up a chair and making his way over to the computer.

"Hey, Snoop?"

"Yes, Blab?"

"...Can I be 'Uncle Blabber' in the future?"

"Drop it already, Blab!"

The End

A lot can change in five years. At least Ricochet's "PING-PING-PING" came up once, which is good news for Snooper. Plus, detecitives is how Snooper says "detective" :)

Lucky is me and Vulaan Kulaas' OC that we created for the Blazin' Trails universe (more on him in my profile), while Caroline, Chance, Rose and Trevor are my OC's—Caroline is Ricochet and Melissa's daughter, born a few years after Ricochet adopted Lucky and later married Melissa, and Chance, Rose and Trevor are Droop-a-Long and Denise's kids.

I think I'm having a little too much fun writing about this. I can picture them having an odd friendship of sorts: Snooper being his usual calm and collected self, Blabber being the chipper and naïve one, and Ricochet being...well, Ricochet. If you couldn't tell, Snoop and Ric were like the stars of this. Blabber kind of faded into the background while I was writing it—so I had to give him a little role at the end there. I was chuckling myself when I wrote it. Sly/teasing Ricochet is best Ricochet :)

Anyway, I hope you guys like this and like/reblog if you do!

God bless, iheartgod175

#Hanna-Barbera #Snooper and Blabber #Ricochet Rabbit #Yogi's Treasure Hunt #fanfic #Ricochet is such a troll #Something Snooper doesn't appreciate :)

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positivelybalanced-blog · 7 years

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Some Products You asked....Here’s my answer.. Part 1: Do Your Research Bro

This subject is akin to politics in my opinion. So I feel like I should put a disclaimer from the get n go.

It’s not that I am against making some extra money to pay off debts, start a career or earn some financial freedom.....I just think people need to be reminded of a few things in regards to selling/purchasing a health and nutrition product and then I clarify a few specifics:

1) Do your research

2) Be humble

3) Plant vs Plant

4) Long term

5) Everybody is Different

6) Integrity

7) DO YOUR RESEARCH

You will notice I put one point in there twice. That is because if you take anything away from this post, I want you to remember that doing your own personal research over any product or company is ESSENTIAL.

I will only have time to cover a few of these points....I might have to make this a series and split up the points. This is something that has been on my mind for awhile now and many of your have been asking my opinion. So please hold the criticisms and burning me at the stake until after I have completed the WHOLE SERIES. Am I calling out specific products, companies or people with these series? No. Am I saying these types of products I discuss are the devil? No. I’m just typing out my thoughts and my approach that I live by and tell my clients. It is opinion with a few research citations mixed in. So try not to get your feelers hurt. It’s just my opinion. <3

Do Your Research Bro

Now when I say research, I mean blogs, post, peers, websites articles but more importantly you must not exclude or forgot research papers, scientific articles and professional unattached opinions. I LOVE to read, but reading information that is backed by a creditable source isn’t going to give you the research information that you need to make a decision for your health. If you are going to sell a product, represent a brand, ingest a product and/or give something to your family, don’t you think it is best to know exactly what you are selling? Knowing is not reciting a scripted dialogue, posting a cut/paste message or having a sample that was given to you by the company. Knowing is researching, by reaching out to MULTIPLE non attached nutrition/fitness professionals, finding out ALL of the ingredients that company uses, being able to look at both the positive and negative reviews and then drawing an educated conclusion based on what information you have collect. If at that time you can state that you back the company, believe it and stand behind what you have researches, then by all means GO FOR IT… Just do the complete research first.

THAT MEANS RESEARCH WHAT I TELL YOU AS WELL. Don't take my word for it on anything. Call me out on it, respectfully, and we can discuss it and both learn something!