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#they're technically working so he isn't always one
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You know what? Fuck it. Morro is alive in my fsm lives au.
He got all the way into Fsm's tomb (which is actually just an over-the-top storage facility) before Fsm caught him.
When Morro was first taken in by Wu he was in awe. I mean it's not every day you're offered a place to stay by the son of God. But he doesn't know much about Wu or his family, nor does Wu think to tell him.
Over time, Morro works out that Wu isn't human. It's the little things at first that make him unsure of his dad's sensei's heritage. A low, draconic hiss there, a quick, barely noticeable shapeshifting mishap there. But Morro is still insecure about his place in the monastery, so he doesn't mention it. However, the truth of Wu's dragoni status comes to light when Wu serves himself a slab of raw meat for dinner, still dripping with blood. Naturally morro, who got served dumplings, freaks out.
Morro: Why are you eating that?!
Wu, confused as to why he's getting asked this: Because I'm technically a carnivore?
Morro: What!?
Wu: You know, because I'm half dragon and half oni.
Morro: No?!
So Morro finds out one "secret" about Wu and his family. And Wu even starts using his true form every now and then. Unfortunately this incident doesn't make Wu stop to think that if Morro doesn't know that Wu isn't human, then he probably doesn't know a lot of other things, such as the Very Important Fact of the First Spinjitzu Master being alive. For Morro, the Fsm's "death" is only confirmed when Wu offhandedly comments that he might of realised that Morro didn't know he wasn't human sooner, if his father wasn't almost certainly in the Departed Realm. (Wu's reasoning behind this was that Fsm tends to be in their true form more often than Wu)
When Morro runs away to prove that he's worthy of being the green ninja, he doesn't actually set out with any particular goal in mind. Rather, the idea of finding the Fsm's tomb comes about after hearing rumours about it in a few of the villages he passed through. In one of them, he even overhears two men talking about how allegedly "not even the First Spinjitzu Master's son's know where the tomb is" (Garmadon and Wu actually don't know where the storage facility is located, as the only time they've ever been there the Fsm teleported them straight into it and straight back out again). It's this comment that gives Morro the idea: if he can find the tomb, something that Wu himself has failed to do, Wu will have to make him the green ninja! And so Morro sets out to find The Tomb of The First Spinjitzu Master.
Meanwhile Wu is having a crisis trying to remember if running away for months at a time was normal human behaviour. Because his draconic instincts are seeing this as normal (I hc dragons to have very large territories that they let their hatchlings run amok in) but his oni instincts are screaming at him to find his pup student. And of course Morro is human, so he's not sure what he should be doing. In the end, however, Wu will always be more dragon than oni, so his draconic instincts win out and he settles down to wait for the return of his hatchling student (though if he needs an few calming teas a day and stops nearly all communication with the outside world that's nobody else's business).
Morro actually does achieve what so few have before, and finds the tomb after months of searching. He then proceeds to one up everyone else and get inside, even without the clues, doing this by using his power over the wind and knowledge of spinjitzu. Morro then decides to do what any teenager in the tomb of God would, and starts to explore. But the cave system that it's in is complex and dangerous for mortals, so Morro quickly gets lost.
Fsm, meanwhile, had come to their storage facility to do some much needed organisation (listen, there is thousands of years worth of stuff in there. Fsm is half dragon and has the hoarding skills to prove it). While they're moving through the caves sorting random items they hear a disturbance a few tunnels over (dragoni hearing for the win!) and go to investigate. It's there that he finds Morro on the verge of a breakdown.
Morro, who was not expecting anyone else to be in the tomb nearly has a heart attack, because there is a massive being with wings and sharp horns and talons staring down at him. He panics and gets ready to fight. But the more he observes the being in the cave with him, the more familiar it seems. After a few seconds, it clicks, the being looks like Wu. And if the being looks like Wu, and it's not Garmadon, then there's really only one person it could be. But that's impossible, isn't it? But all the same, Morro relaxes a bit.
Morro: You're the First Spinjitzu Master
Fsm, wondering why there is a small child in his storage facility: I am, yes.
Morro: But you're dead! We're in your tomb!?
Fsm, now wondering why this small child has traces of their son's scent on him: This is a storage facility. And I'm not dead, who told you that?
Morro: Well - I mean - Wu said you were most likely in the Departed Realm!
Fsm: And I was, but I can leave it at any time. I'm a god afterall. Anyway, how do you know my son?
Morro: Wu took me in and trained me, and he lied to me and told me I was destined to become the green ninja. But I've found your tomb, surely that makes me worthy. You can make me the green ninja!
Fsm: Of course you are not the green ninja. It's not about how worthy one is. It's the fact that you are mortal, you simply wouldn't survive carrying the power of the green ninja. Besides, if it makes you feel better, you can already do something I cannot. You can control wind, something that no one since Wojira herself has been able to do. I assume that's why Wu thought you might the green ninja. I do apologise, it's my fault he's not the best at communication.
Fsm: You should return to the monastery. Wu is worried. He sees you as his son, you know, he will be happy that you are safe.
Morro: How can you know that when you didn't even know who I was.
Fsm: Omniscience is something I can chose whether to use or not. Now, I believe it is time for you to leave. Come, I will lead out of the caves.
So Morro and the First Spinjitzu Master leave the cave system. Morro has had his ego boosted since he can do something the First Spinjitzu Master can't, and is less angry about being not the green ninja. He's still angry at Wu, of course, but he misses him all the same. Besides, this way he can yell at Wu in person again.
Morro doesn't go back immediately though, instead he takes a few months to gather his thoughts. As he travels through the villages and cities of Ninjago he occasionally helps people out, and starts to get a sense of what being a ninja is all about. So by the time he actually reaches the monastery he's mostly cooled off, as well as lost some of his arrogance. However, he does still have a speech to give Wu that involves several apologies about how he acted, along with an section that explains the pressure that Morro felt Wu put him under.
He doesn't get a chance to actually say the speech until a few days after he returns home though, as the moment Morro steps through the gates he is greeted by his touch starved dragoni sensei parent, who immediately whisks him away for cuddles. And Morro, equally touched starved, simply can't bring himself to stop it.
Fsm, on the other hand, is absolutely thrilled that they now have a grandson to dote on.
(Thanks to @coolprofessorbagelwinner for the little tidbit at the end)
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plushie-lovey · 8 months
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Thanks to my datemate I was able to find a bunch of valentines day frogs at goodwill yesterday and one pink beanie baby 🥺
#as you guys may know my datemate works for goodwill#he technically isn't supposed to tell me about things to shop for#but he does it anyways#he doesn't always show everything tho! most stuff I find on my own#in faft only one of the frogs I bought were shown to me. the others I discovered mixed in!#I also found a limited edition spring bear from 2007 STILL WITH the pin in its hang tag#bit I didn't get her (yet) because I only had a small bag and was going to work after thrifting#I shoved her to the very bottom of the bin which is packed full of plushies rn#including a lot of massive sized ones. so I don't think anyone's gonna dig her up yet#I might be able to snag her tomorrow if Im right about people not digging#if not then it wasn't meant to be. Im not as in love with her coloring as I am Maple's#who is the autumn bear from the same limited edition collection#They're Build a bears btw#the spring one was in perfect condition just like Maple but even more new because she has all attachments#no outfit tho but most of the time I don't like clothes on my bears#but I thought it was a super cool fibd so hopefully I can get her#but anyways!! the frogs!!#one is pink with magenta polkadots#another is pale green holding a pink heart#the last one is a paler green with a red ribbon around his neck#and he's holding a red heart that says ''I got You Babe“#he has a sound box in him but its thankfully broken#I mostly hate plushies that make sounds#the only exceptions would be Momo (a plush lemur I used to have made by Yoohoo toys that I want to buy again)#and a plush that would be made with a personalized sound (like if my datemate made me a BAB and put a voice message in it)#anything else no ty. the sound box makes the plush uncomfortable to hug#aaanyways#viti shoosh
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leidensygdom · 29 days
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The ways in which being asexual feels isolating
I've been pondering whether to post this or not, but I figured out I wanted to explain a bit of this experience.
So, I could go on a very long tangent on how being asexual is usually a lonely experience, and how much I've been otherized here and there- Specially in real life. How the same people that claimed to be queer (or allies) had been much weirder about my asexuality than they were about me being bi/pan or whatever.
But I think I wanna talk about how something like that bleeds in every aspect of socializing, even down to something like fandom. I stay away from fandom usually- I like to look at cool fanart and that's about it. I hate discourse, I hate drama, I hate reading people getting worked up because they're treating fanon as canon. But there's one thing I've noticed, over and over, that just sends me off my rails.
And it's how fandom tends to treat asexuality (or aromanticism). So, you get a character in some piece of media that explicitly, unequivocally, states they're either ace, aro, or both. "I do not have interest in a partner", "I don't desire to have sex nor do I enjoy the topic", whatever. And as an ace person, I do appreciate being able to see myself in media- There isn't many chases where something is established that bluntly.
Now, you decide you want to check some fanart for that. Fandoms have this tendency to make absolutely everything about shipping, even when the media they're basing it in does not revolve about that (and it's annoying, because a lot of times people aren't interested in the actual themes- It's all reduced to shipping). Suddenly, you notice people treating the aforementioned character as anything but aro or ace. It's all about shipping. "This person interacted with this other person in a way two friends would, but we gotta make this their entire personality now". Some people may instead go for "well, maybe the character is not having sex, but they're probably an absolute freak about it, studies it extensively, has encyclopedic knowledge about it-"
Now, there's of course sex-favourable aces, and that's completely valid, but it's already straying from what, canonically, the character had mentioned. Asexual or aromantic characters aren't really allowed to exist as themselves. People often see them as a blank slate to fill, to change, to fix. I could talk forever about how people react to real life aces like that. I've had people asking me incredibly invasive questions because they saw my lack of sexual attraction as something broken, something they could fix.
And I hate that! I think I'm allowed to say that I hate that! It's hard and unusual for media to cement an aro/ace character, because they're defined by the lack of interest for something, which is often hard to show. But when it does- No one seems to care. It's all shipping, it's all "well, he's gay in denial", "well, she's probably super repressed". If you took a canonically gay character and made them straight on a fanfic, you'd get angry people. Which is bound to happen when you erase representation that people identify with. But aro/ace characters are NOT even seen as queer, they're not even seen as "representation" by most people. You can erase that bit of it, put some god awful shipping on top, and people will applaud you. And it sucks!
I wish people would see being aro or ace as an identity worth respecting, not an identity that needs overwriting. It feels a bit too close to how people often treat aro/aces irl, and it sucks. It reeks of this sort of exclusionism, where "aro/aces are technically queer but it's queer lite at best, it's less interesting than being gay, and we kinda don't want them near us anyhow". Again, I've had far worse experiences about being ace than I have about not being straight.
Sorry if the post got long, but I hope this experience may at least resonate with other people who have been struggling with this, too. It has always felt just kind of lonely to be ace, and see how little people do even consider it an identity, even when it comes down to something like fandom.
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mysecretlittlelibrary · 10 months
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NFWMB (Nothing Fucks With My Baby)
Pairing: Reader x Venom
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: you get kidnapped, there's some cannon level violence, nothing to write home about <3
Genre: idk if I should really classify this as angst fr but the ending is fluffy!
Summary: Carnage returns, his mission remains the same; kill Venom. And he plans to use you to do it.
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Based on this ask by @weebnotheree (thank you so much for the request, I know it took a while so I appreciate your patience, I hope you like it <3)
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***
"Hey y/n!" Your coworker skirts over to your desk with curious excitement.
"Yes?" You glance up from your computer at her.
"Your boyfriend is a reporter isn't he?"
"Correct. Where is this going exactly?"
"Well do you think he'd be able to come cover the charity gala this weekend?" She asks.
"He doesn't really- cover this sort of thing? He'd need to get assigned to it. But I can check with him, he can ask his boss and maybe they'll send someone else down." You concede. It can't hurt, after all, you do need the exposure for the event anyway.
Hours later, after you've both gotten home from work and eaten dinner. You're winding down for the day with Eddie by watching a show together when you propose the question from your coworker.
"Eddie quick question." You say, not lifting your head from his shoulder.
"Yeah?" He's been tracing patterns against your leg for the past ten minutes.
"Do you think you could come cover the charity gala this weekend? My coworker Dani thought it'd be a good idea." You tell him.
"I don't usually write those sorts of pieces." He hums.
"I know I told her, but I also told her I'd ask anyway. It doesn't have to be you, if your boss sends someone else that's fine. We're just aiming to get more eyes on the event." You shrug.
"I'll talk to my boss. He'll probably send someone. Not me though."
"Yeah that's fine, I know these aren't your thing, you don't have to come." You say.
"Say what?" You feel him shift to look at you.
"I drag you to enough work functions. I'll let you skip out on this one." You pat his chest lightly.
"Don't have to tell me twice." Eddie snorts turning back to the TV.
"Technically I already did tell you twice." You chuckle.
"Smartass." He pinches your thigh.
"Always." You sit up just to wink at him.
The following day, you are accosted by Dani pretty much as soon as she walks into the office.
"Did you ask him?"
"Ask who, what Dani?" You ask though you know exactly what she's talking about. "Also have you forgotten that the proper way to start a conversation is with a greeting? What happened to hi? What happened to how are you?"
"Hi, how are you? Did you ask your boyfriend about covering the gala?" She says.
"Hi Dani, I'm doin' alright. How are you?" You ask her.
"Y/n!" She huffs.
"Yes Dani I asked. He said he'd talk to his boss. Knowing Eddie, someone will probably be at the gala. It's handled." You finally cave and give her the answers she came for.
"You're the best!" She tells you.
"I know, thanks." You chuckle. You shrug.
The day of the gala is chaos from the minute preparations start. It's not really anything that surprises you and you've been handling everything that comes your way with ease.
"Y/n!" Your coworker Wendy grabs your attention when you're sorting out something with one of the photographers.
"Yes Wendy?" You aks.
"The uh catering staff is here do you know where they're supposed to-"
"They just got here?! They were supposed to be here an hour ago! Who was on that? They should've been checking for- oh never mind! Their tables are over there on that wall and tell them to hurry Wen the event is literally starting." You sigh pointing her in the right direction. The event is just gaining momentum, doors opened about twenty minutes ago and aside from the catering situation that has just been taken care of, as far as you know, everything is precisely as it should be. At least you hope so since you did come here a couple of hours in advance to make sure things were ready. You aren't technically in charge of this event but you are naturally better at organizing chaos and these events tend to be a bit of a frenzy on the day no matter how prepared you are in advance.
Tonight is your company's annual charity gala. Every year the board votes on a cause to raise money for by hosting a huge party. This year's cause is a charity that supports kids getting involved in the arts. There are a bunch of art projects on display, some of which will be up for auction at the end of the evening, but the goal is to shmooze with the community members effectively enough that they want to support the charity. You spend most of these galas working optics; talking to reporters, setting up pictures, and just generally organizing things throughout the night. As part of the company's public relations department events like these are your specialty. Carefully curating the perception of everything that goes on here tonight with the help of the other members of the department here tonight.
You're pleased to say that a couple of hours in, the event is going off without a hitch. Once it's in full swing, you have your hands full giving statements to different press outlets and sending photographers to snap the board of directors with guests of the event. Just as you're preparing the host for his introductory speech, you notice a small crowd gathering by one of the large glass windows overlooking the city.
"What's going on over there?" The host frowns at you.
"I'm- not sure. Probably just some nightlife chaos got people's attention." You shrug but before you can walk up the stage there's a shout from a few of the guests followed by the sound of shattered glass as something crashes through that large window. The room erupts into chaos as red goop shoots out at people. It only takes you a couple of moments to realize the thing currently ruining your gala is Carnage. You didn't meet him or anything last time they faced off, but Eddie gave you enough of a description to come to that conclusion when you spot the bright red tentacles and eyes so like Venom's but different at the same time.
"You have got to be fucking kidding me." You huff quietly from where you're crouched behind a curtain with the gala host.
"What is that thing?!" He hisses.
"Doesn't matter. Find the nearest exit and run like hell." You tell him.
"What?! You want me to go out there?! What if it sees me?" He shakes his head. You poke your head out just enough to see Carnage. Weirdly enough he just seems to be picking up people and dropping them on the ground again.
"You ever seen that thing before?" You ask.
"God no!"
"He's looking for something. Unless you think it's you, I'd suggest taking the risk before he starts getting snackish!"
"W-what?!"
"We know you're here! We did our RESEARCH!" The man beside you is practically shaking as Carnage's deep voice rings through the room.
"He's coming this way, you have to move now." You say.
"What about you?"
"He's more likely to notice two of us. I'll be out after you." You're so busy directing the guy you don't realize how close Carnage is to you all until the curtain you're behind is ripped off its bar.
"AHA! THERE YOU ARE!"
"GO! GET OUT OF HERE NOW!" You shout to the guy as Carnage reaches for- you. He's reaching for you, you realize only when one spindly spider-like appendage wraps around your waist.
"How noble of you. We weren't after him- but if you must be the hero-" Carnage easily reaches the scrambling host before he can get to the door and all you can do is shut your eyes tight when Carnage lifts him up. It's only when his screams stop suddenly and something warm drips onto your arm that you're sure is blood. You don't dare to check what Carnage has done, but if you had to guess, he bit his head off; much like Venom does when you or Eddie allows him to. Your eyes only shoot open when Carnage starts to move again, swinging back out the hole he came in through and taking you through the city. You're in the air for quite some time before eventually, Carnage drops you, rather gently for a kidnapper, on the ground inside a dusty building.
"Hello, little thing." Carnage says to you.
"I could have sworn Venom dealt with you already." You cross your arms.
"Almost. I was lucky to escape."
"Unfortunate for the rest of us." You muse.
"Rude!"
"Let me remind you that you did kidnap me so excuse me if I'm not kind." You roll your eyes. "I take it my role is to lure Venom to you? Right?"
"Correct. He cares for you. So he will come."
"Of course, he will. Though, disrupting my work event was an unnecessary scene just to lure him out to- where are we?"
"An old firehouse!"
"Wow you really are a baby." You scoff realizing he's chosen another location where loud noise is common.
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing nothing. I presume you have a different host now right? That other guy, the serial killer, died the last time, didn't he?"
"I am bonded to his blood! I can regenerate!"
"I'm sorry- so you regenerated… an entire head for your last host?"
"Yes!"
"That is- very strange." You frown. "Still, this place doesn't hold sentimental value to Cletus so- how will they find you?"
"Oh just call them." Cletus makes an appearance, finally, and rolls his eyes as he makes his request.
"Call them? You want me to call them and lead them to where you plan to kill them?"
"Yes. Or I'll kill you."
"That would be stupid. Killing me won't get you what you want." You scoff.
"CARNAGE! YOU TOOK MY CHOCOLATE DROP! I'M GOING TO RIP YOU TO SHREDS!!"
"Guess we don't need to call him." Carnage says pushing you into the fire engine that's collecting dust in the unused building.
"WAS DYING ONCE NOT ENOUGH FOR YOU?!" Venom stomps towards Carnage.
"Father. I'm not that easy to get rid of!"
"EVIDENTLY!" Venom charges at Carnage and the two of them are quickly destroying the old brick firehouse you're occupying. From inside the fire truck you're in, it's hard to tell who's winning for most of the fight. It's all too quick and too fluid the way they're throwing each other around. By the time you've gotten a handle on what's going on between the duo, Carnage has Venom pinned to one of the walls that they haven't totally ruined already. Frantically you turn towards the control panel of the fire engine, you can't imagine it's still fully operational but there's a chance you can find some way to make noise with this thing. You need to give Venom the upper hand somehow.
"V!" You shout and cover your ears for only a moment before pressing as much of your weight as you can into the horn of the truck and hoping for the best. You can't explain the relief that you feel when that horrid loud noise fills the small space and Carnage screeches. You let up on the horn once he stumbles away from Venom, his attention on you now that you've gotten involved.
"You!" Carnage snarls. You lay into the horn again before he can get to you and the sound seems to disrupt him enough to almost completely separate him from Cletus. You let up when Eddie has crept up behind them and Venom takes over to fully rip Carnage from Cletus by force. You didn't think that was possible and it is extremely strange to watch. Venom grabs Cletus with an extra appendage and holds him far in the air as he eats the angry red goop that is Carnage.
"EVEN WORSE THE SECOND TIME." Venom grumbles and you can't help but giggle a little. The noise makes Venom wink at you before turning his attention to Cletus. "THIS TIME STAY DEAD!" Venom says before biting his head off, out of your line of sight. You come out of the fire truck just in time to catch him dropping the body.
"ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!" Venom runs over to you and lifts you into his arms so you're eye level with him as he looks over you for injuries.
"I'm fine V. He didn't actually hurt me. You got here so quickly." You muse.
"EDDIE WAS WATCHING COVERAGE OF YOUR GALA." Venom explains.
"It was going so well until he crashed it." You pout. "You don't have any other errant children we should know about right Venom?"
"NO. NOT THAT I KNOW OF." Venom shrugs lowering you back to the ground.
"Good because this kidnapping thing is very inconvenient." You say. Eddie chooses that moment to reappear and he quickly wraps his arms around you.
"Y/n, baby, thank fuck you're okay. I am so sorry." He breathes out.
"You're sorry? What for?" You frown as you hug him back.
"If I had just come to the damn gala in the first place-" You pull back and hold Eddie's face in your hands to make sure he hears what you say next.
"No. It wouldn't have changed anything. In fact, it would actually have been worse I think. There were hundreds of people in that building and we were on one of the higher floors. The casualties if you had fought him there would have been so not worth it. This was the best outcome. I'm sure there were several injuries but I think there was only one death besides him so- don't apologize. Especially because there was no way you could've predicted him crashing my event. Don't blame yourself because other than a ruined charity gala and the inconveniences that come with a kidnapping, I've barely got some scrapes. You two did well." You tell him.
"We couldn't have done it without you. The fire horn was a great idea."
"Yeah well, you were going to die. And I didn't have any fire." You shrug. "We should get out of here though, I can't imagine it'll take much longer for authorities to get here in search of the red monster that crashed a charity event." You add.
"True. The party looked beautiful by the way. You know, before Carnage trashed it." Eddie says scooping you into his arms.
"Thank you baby." You kiss his cheek just before Venom appears again to take you all home.
"I WANT A KISS TOO! I DID ALL THE WORK."
"You can have as many kisses as you want V." You say kissing his cheek too as he walks out of the trashed fire station with you in his hold.
"I WANT ALL THE KISSES THEN!" He declares as he swings you both up into the air.
"Once we get home I'll kiss you til my lips fall off if you so wish my love." You giggle.
"NOT THAT MANY! IF THEY FALL OFF I WON'T GET ANY MORE IN THE FUTURE!"
"Okay okay. Reasonable amount of kisses, once we get home. Deal?"
"DEAL!" Venom says before taking off from building to building to get you home. There's no such thing as normal when your boyfriend is sharing his body with an alien you suppose, but you wouldn't have it any other way.
***
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ofloveandstardust · 1 month
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A/N: I saw that Cain and Abel aren't like present in the show and I know they're technically Adam and Eve's kids, but let me have this please— I just wanna gush about this since it's been invading my mind.
cw: fem!reader (no pronouns, but reader is called wife/mama/mommy/mother)
Imagine: Being Adam's wife and having two sons with him.
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I can definitely see him being excited over having sons. Like, hell yeah! But but but also— I have this feeling in my gut that he'd be okay with being a girl dad, sooo after having your sons he's just like "Wifey, Sugartits, Babycakes—" Any nickname under the sun until you finally ask him what he wants and he just says he wants a daughter.
You can't tell me he didn't name Abel— and 💀 It's even funnier since Abel does have a little more resemblance of his father than Cain does. Cain was named by you and looks more like you. However, you can say his attitude is similar to Adam's. I can see them both having Adam's eyes when thinking up of how they'd look, but I'm leaving things up in the air. Just for this, because I think it'd be neat, the boys are twins. Cain is the older twin while Abel is the younger one.
Cain is kind of a menace...but still a good kid. He always pulls that "Because I'm the oldest" card with Abel and if he ever whacked his brother and he started crying, Cain immediately does that thing where the sibling just panics and stops them from crying or else he's getting in trouble with mama and papa. He teases his younger brother, but will get upset if anyone tries to bully Abel. Oh, but the biggest menace he is towards? Adam. Cain doesn't hate his dad at all. No, he just prefers you more and lowkey is a mama's boy. Adam can have Mr. Perfect (Abel), but he at least has mama.
Then Adam just straight up has beef with his own son 💀 Because Cain takes up your time and he swears the little shit is taunting him when you're not looking. Cain comes up when you and Adam are kissing or anything like that, holding his hands up like, "I want Mama's kisses too... 🥺" You can't resist because that's your baby and he's so adorable. There's this stare down between Adam and Cain...meanwhile Abel, being the good bean that he is, waddles towards you all and goes, "Mama! Papa! Look what I drew! :D" and it's just a sweet little drawing of him, his brother, you and Adam.
Speaking of Abel, he's a good boi. Cain calls him Mr. Perfect sometimes because Abel has some natural talent. He's especially good with music, much to Adam's delight. Still, he looks up to his brother and despite Cain's jealousy, they do get along nicely. They have this little game where they're building their own city and decide over several elements of it. Abel somehow always brings sheep into the mix, but his brother isn't complaining.
Abel doesn't play favorites and says he loves you and Adam equally. He always wants to make sure the two of you are present at the same time when showing his accomplishments or what he's found. Speaking of which, he has special interests that last for a while until he moves on to another one or some just last a very long time. An example would be sheep, as mentioned before. He even has a lamb plushie (I can see him watching Lamb Chop's Play Along and loving the show). Cain knows how precious this little lamb is to Abel and will raise chaos if it ever gets lost or stolen (he calls the plush "The Chosen").
Here's a funny little thing: the boys not recognizing Adam in the mask he wears. From the day they were born, they always saw their father without his mask and have grown used to seeing his actual face. One day, they ask you where he was and you tell them it's work related but he'll be back to teach them some new songs. Just imagine Adam coming back, calling out that he's home, which cause the boys to rush up to him. Then they just stop because... "Mama, who's this stranger in our house!?" Abel literally starts crying— saying this isn't papa. Meanwhile Cain's mind immediately says violence is the answer (thanks, Adam). You have to calm both boys down and explain to them about the mask.
Flight lessons are stressful. It all started when Cain began jumping off of the furniture and escalated to him jumping off the bunk bed (because it'd be adorable for them to have bunk beds). So, it seems like it was time to show the boys how to use their wings. It's harder than it looks. Abel isn't okay with jumping off from anywhere unless Cain is going to jump with him. Fine with his brother because he enjoys doing this. Eventually, they're able to fly and it's a joy! They can fly around Heaven with you and Adam and it's absolutely adorable.
Cain and Abel have different ways to refer to you and Adam. Cain calls Adam 'dad' or 'papa' but does call him 'father' when he's upset or serious. Meanwhile, he calls you 'mama', 'mommy', or 'mom' (mom is more frequent when around others or strangers) and it's rare when he calls you mother. Abel just calls you two mama and papa. He'll only use mother and father if he's around people he doesn't know or meeting for the first time.
I have more thoughts about these little beans such as how they are around Lute (#1 and only Babysitter), Emily (Abel affectionately calls her Auntie Em), Sera and possibly Lucifer and Charlie (because you can't tell me Adam would not brag about having kids 💀). Like, I can see Cain being brutally honest when he first sees Lucifer because he's that type of kid. Will 100% make a comment about the man's height. There's also the fact that both boys are into music like their father. Abel once asked, "So if that's Queen, then who's the King?" when Adam tells them about Queen. Also, I can very much see Cain getting into gardening. If you want more of these then let me know!
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yandere-wishes · 10 months
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Spider Bite Love
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Synopsis: Miguel loves you, this you know. But neither the story nor the hero ever stops long enough to wonder if you love him too. 
Warnings: Choking, Biting, Reader is from Miles' universe, Miguel is kinda a perfectionist. Yandere themes.
Author's note: Forgive the Spanish it's mostly found on Google. I took like four months of Spanish back in 7th grade and have retained exactly 0.1% of that knowledge. 
💙🕷💙🕷💙🕷💙🕷💙🕷💙🕷💙🕷💙🕷💙
The future is procaine, all marble white and reflective crystal. Flying cars and a horizon that echoes soft tamed pastels. Nueva York can almost be described as beautiful. Almost.
If not for the technicalities and lies and the loss of total freedom. 
If not for a fate that's been prewritten. Repeated across centuries and dimensions. So uncontrollable that it practically cultivates inferiority within your heart. An age-old tradition found in every child's tale about dashing heroes and harrowing villains.
If not for the looming uncomfortable, presence known as Miguel O'Hara who refuses to leave you alone. 
Your lover.
Your hero.
Your Spider-man
Although he's not your Spider-Man. Not really. And you're not the love of his life. Not really. You're both just Look-alikes, cheap replicas from a corner dimension. 
It's difficult to comprehend, pondering it encompasses you with an unruly headache. Galling and overpowering, not unlike your so-called "Lover".
To put it simply or rather to oversimplify. You are not meant to be here.  You are from Earth-1610, at least you think you are. It's hard to tell since apparently from what you've gathered there was another (y/n). One who looked just like you, acted just like you, and was essentially you in every microscopic aspect. At least that's what Miguel says, and you've come to learn that he's not awfully good at telling the full truth. 
She died or was killed. As is customary with every hero's first crush.  Thus leaving Miguel without a lover or a prisoner. Depending on which iteration of the story you fancy. 
Then Miles came along disrupting the canon and causing a dimension's wide spider hunt, with Miguel leading the charge. Somewhere along the lines, between chasing down Miles and barking orders at the other Superheroes his secret society was made of. He passes by your window. Caught a rogue glimpse and froze. He'd found you again, after all these years of believing that you were dead. Technically you were dead, his (y/n) was dead. But there was one here, another one, just as radiant and beautiful as his original lover had been. Miguel knew he had to have you. To take you back to his dimension. To complete his Canon. 
Your dimension was doomed anyway. 
So he wasn't really doing any harm. 
You shuffle uncomfortably on the couch, attempting to readjust your position as to better gaze out the window at the porcelain city. 
It's almost homogeneous to Miguel himself. 
A perfect city with no room for cracks or mistakes.
A perfect hero who flawlessly preserves the multiverse.
They're both perfect you think as you steal your gaze from the skyline. Although sometimes perfect and pristine aren't always reflective of a person's inner workings. Miguel isn't exactly corrupted but he's far from innocent either. You - and the motley amount of fang marks spread across your body- are living proof of that.
His apartment is clean, spotless, all ceramic tiles and snowy furniture. 
No room for faults or fallacy. His whole life is meant to be errorless. Just like the delicate spider-verse, he's all so keen on protecting. 
The door chimes, a light buzz and a thud. It's hard to remember that this is technically the future. That trivial things such as keys and locks have long since been eradicated. 
Miguel steps in, a bouquet of red and yellow roses grasped within his hand. He walks in as the door buzzes closed behind him. There's a docile look in his eyes as he spots you sitting on the couch. A repeated memory you realize and you wonder if his (y/n) use to wait for him to get back from Spider HQ, all patient and passive like a pretty doll awaiting her master. 
"Para vos, mi querida" he mumbles, somehow apathetic and bashful all at the same time. 
You reach for the flowers a practiced smile bearly tugging at your lips, your fingers curling around the bouquet, then you freeze eyes going wide. 
There's blood on his claws again, pristine rudy red that drips to an invisible tempo. You wonder who he's killed this time. A canon divergent Spider-Man or Spider-Women. A villain running amuck across the city. 
Or some regular civilian he was supposed to protect. A regular civilian who had some interaction with you on one of the rare times Miguel actually agreed to take you out. You wonder but you don't date ask. 
His suit is unscratched -as it always is- His face is bruise-less, so it makes you think that your final hypothesis may just be the accurate one. Miguel's eyes narrow when notices your frozen hand. 
"What's wrong," he asks a gruff edge in his voice, a warning.
One your mind begs you to obey. 
"Who did you kill?" You ask eyes concentrated on the sharp blue razors that make him look more monster than superhero. Your fingers abandon the bouquet's base and return to your side. You try to force your eyes into a glare despite the unruly beating of your fearful heart. 
One look from Miguel snuffs all that resistance out. One dark glare from eyes that can't choose if they wish to be red or blue. Human or hero. Human or monster. And you're back to cowering into the couch cushions. 
"It doesn't matter" he all but barks, a supernatural chill encompasses the room. As he throws the bouquet down onto the ceramic floor. His lips pull back in a snarl, showcasing milky white fangs that gleam in the low lights. 
"It does matter Miguel!" Your voice is raising, itching to scream to yell. To make him understand a fraction of your hatred
"You're supposed to be a hero, a savior, but all you ever do is act like a villain. You stole me from my home, you killed my universe's Spider-man, you destroyed my dimension! You're nothing more than a villain wearing a hero's mask." 
There's a punchline to this, you're almost sure of it. Some storybook explanation as to why you decided to lash out at the most terrifying creature you've ever met. Maybe in the heat of the frigid moment, you forgot that he's no mere spider. He's a tarantula, bloodthirsty and savage, ready to attack when someone goes poking at him with a stick. 
Miguel's fingers tighten around your throat, sharp claws digging into soft skin and delicate muscles. Pushing you further into the couch. Miguel's ears ring with the symphony of your gagging as he tightens his grasp. He thinks you're choking, suffocating, asphyxiating. 
Good. With any luck, you'll be dead soon.
"Mocosa ingrata"
He's not sure if your death will be significant in any way. You're honestly too trivial to have any impact on things. If you hold a place in the canon of his timeline or yours, he's yet to find it. 
Miguel hates oddities, things that disrupt the canon, selfish missteps that destroy entire dimensions. You're not quite an oddity per se, although everything in your timeline is broken. Dangling from a loose threat at the edge of a cliff. All because Miles Morales decided to be selfish and greedy and "change" what's been canon for longer than any "Spider-man" has been alive. Miles is a mistake. that whole universe is a mistake. It's bound to collapse on itself at any moment. So for the life of him, Miguel can't understand why you're so ungrateful. So desperate to reprimand him and belittle him when all he's doing is trying to save everyone. 
He's failed once, 
He's failed twice,
He refuses to fail for a third time. 
It doesn't matter that you're some helpless civilian who was stuck in the wrong universe at the wrong time. All that matters is that you're (y/n), his (y/n). Every other Spiderman has their Gwen or their MJ. A dutiful lover, to return to when the night ends, when the fighting ends. When the ignorant sun finally decides to reawaken and cast the city in a temporary ray of peacefulness. Someone to love and cherish, to take their minds off of the dread and misery that runs amuck across their lives. 
Peter Parker has his Mary Jane.
Miles Morales had his Gwen Stacy.
So why can't Miguel O'Hara have his (Y/n) (L/n)?
When Miguel looks back down at you, he notices your dark eyes. How the life is slowly fading from your body. He relents, pulling you forward and slamming you into the couch one last time before retracting his hand. He sits down next to your coughing body. 
"I hate you" you manage to blurt out between desperate heaves. Trying to fill your lungs with as much oxygen as possible. You don't bother looking at him, you know he's mad. He's always mad when you refuse to act like his (y/n). When you poke holes at the perfect illusion he's created. 
There's a brief pause. A second of tranquility. Before Miguel grabs your arm and pulls you onto his lap. His mouth parts. Fangs releasing and hovering above your jugular. His fangs pierce your vain, releasing his poison into your bloodstream. It's not lethal, at least not yet. Miguel prefers to think of it as a sedative for when you start to act up. 
It soothes you, calms you into remembering your place. Your head lulls to the side, falling on his shoulder as your groggy eyes look up at him with a stare that he can almost trick himself into believing is loving, or some variant of the same emotion. 
You're his, he knows that. You have to be. It's all he can tell himself as to stay sane. You'll understand someday. Realize you love him too. 
After all every hero needs a lover. 
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luviemax · 3 months
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invisible string- oneshot
a/n: hihi!!! song inspo here :D holy cow this feels like the longest thing i've written (it's not...)
-> lewis hamilton x fem!reader, no physical descriptions of reader
warnings: none, roscoe hamilton is a king.
masterlist
word count: 1,347 words
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Of course you had heard of the 'invisible string' theory.
In today's day and age, it was a widely discussed phenomenon. You had no way of knowing whether or not the theory was actually true, mostly due to the fact that you'd never experienced it yourself.
Quite obviously, you wanted true love. You wanted to find your soulmate. But sometimes, life just isn't the way you cut it out to be, and you can't always get what you want. Like they say, 'life isn't perfect'.
And that's what you thought, until you'd met Lewis.
He comes into your life unexpectedly.
It's not that you don't want love in your life, but you're just not actively pursuing it, you tell yourself. Yet, a deep part within you says that love is something you truly yearn for. All these years, you've watched your friends go through heartbreak, then, you've watched them recover, then meet their soulmates, and eventually get married. You can't help but feel a deep sense of longing for what others seem to have, but you can never seem to find. To you, it seems like everybody's falling in love, but you're simply falling behind.
When you and Lewis meet, you're not really anything romantic. It's purely platonic. You tell yourself that you're not looking for a relationship, and little do you know, he's thinking the same thing.
Nevertheless, you nor Lewis voice your thoughts about this. You choose not to say it because it would be a blatant lie, and you don't want to lie to someone who you've made a friendship with based on trust and honesty. Truthfully speaking, you think that you're not saying anything because you're afraid of rejection, heartbreak, and ruining an arrangement that's simply perfect as it is.
Lewis doesn't like lying to you either. He knows that you're not acquainting yourself with him because of his fame or his money, but he's been used for both things repeatedly on multiple separate occasions, so he threads on thin ice around you. Or, that's what he said to himself at the beginning. He can't help but let loose around you. Just by talking, you make him comfortable. He feels like he could tell you about every woe in the world that he's had, and you would know precisely how to console him. He just can't help but feel at ease in your presence, and days with you are the best. But the two of you are just friends, he tells himself. Yeah, bullshit.
You don't really know much about cars, but you knew that Lewis worked in the industry. As he talked about more, you could tell how passionate he was about it, so one night, you set aside the time to read up on the topic. Of course, the subject was really versatile, and there was a lot to read on, and you nearly fell asleep sitting up, but you could tell it made him happy, and you wanted more ways to connect with him.
Naturally, Lewis was elated when you began to show more interest in cars. Not motorsports, but just the technical aspects of how cars worked. Who best to talk with than the person you liked most about the thing you were most passionate about?
The more the two of you talked, the more the two of you talked.
But of course, everything was purely "platonic".
So if it was platonic, why did you find yourself longing for his presence when he wasn't there? Was it really quote-unquote "friendly" behaviour for someone to be gifting you morbidly expensive gifts when you mention it in passing? Was it really normal for you to miss someone that much when they're away? When he was gone for work stints, you would find yourself subconsciously thinking about his toothy grin, or his wheezy laugh, or his beautiful, beautiful eyes....
The same thing went for him. When he was away at work, it took him every ounce of self-restraint for him not to be constantly messaging you, or asking what you're doing, but hey, if he did that, he would just be a caring friend... right?
You can still remember the very moment you knew you were in love with him, for sure.
The lingering doubt had always been there. Would you want to risk the best friendship you had for feelings that may not even come to fruition? But in that moment, you decided you would. Eventually. When you got the guts to do it.
The moment was quite mundane, actually. It was something as trivial as your birthday. Something which happened yearly, but it was something that he made absolutely magical.
The night starts with Lewis cooking dinner for you. It's all your favourite dishes, and you realise, he remembers.
When it's time for you to open your plethora of gifts from him, the first present you open is a stack of all your favourite books. Then it's records from your favourite artists. The list goes on and on, but all of the gifts you receive are things you've mentioned in previously, but simply in passing. You realise he remembers.
Singlehandedly, he'd put more care and thought than anyone else ever did. Yes, maybe the things he had gifted you might've been simple in anyone else's eyes, but sentimentally, his gifts meant a lot to you, and he knew.
He knows that he's in love with you when it's your birthday.
It wasn't really a struggle to choose what to get you. He had all the money he needed at his dispense, and he'd picked up on your prior conversations,; the things you loved and you hated.
Nonetheless, he's still slightly nervous when you open the gifts.
What if it wasn't enough? What if you didn't like it?
But from the look on your face, he can tell that you absolutely adored it. He knew that he loved you in that moment because no one had ever showed that much enthusiasm to the thought he put into things. Whether it be a simple note, or the most expensive watch money could buy, no one had really cared. But with such simplistic things, you did.
From then on, he knew that you were his soulmate. You weren't materialistic, nor were you too cold. You were like the fire to his ice, the yin to his yang.
So when he tells you he likes you, in a way that would imply that your relationship would shift to something more than friendship, you more than indulge him.
Your relationship is nothing but looks, gentle touches, soft kisses, and a shared admiration for each other.
It's a Sunday morning when he tells you that he loves you.
The two of you are tangled in bedsheets in your shared London flat. It's dawn, and the sunlight is beginning to peek through the curtains. You're curled into his chest, basking in his presence for just a moment before he has to leave. Your grip on him is steel tight, and your face is buried into his neck. He places gentle kisses on your forehead, and runs his fingers through your hair in a soothing motion. When he really needs to get up, he rubs your back in circles and tucks you into the sheets. In a drowsy, half-asleep state, you lazily move your arms into his direction, and he does nothing but chuckle as he sits by your side on your bed. "I'll be back before you know it," Lewis promises you, voice still raspy from sleep, "I love you."
Your heart skips a beat. You throw yourself at him and you swear that you never want to let him go. "I love you too." You whisper, kissing his cheek and embracing him even tighter than before. He places a kiss on your forehead, and gently shuts the bedroom door behind him. As soon as he's gone, Roscoe is more than happy to take Lewis' stead in cuddling you.
Little did you know, no, Lewis did not go to work, he went to look at engagement rings.
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bitterchocoo · 7 months
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Coffee
Young Ranpo Edogawa | M. Reader
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"Your smell like coffee!"
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Coffee isn't Ranpo's thing.
They're bitter, sure the barista adds some milk and syrup in them but they're still bitter! Which is why he likes hot chocolate better. Unlike the bitter concoction hot chocolate is sweet and nice and warm, especially if you add marshmallows! Some may say that it's too sweet but not for Ranpo. It's just the right amount of sweetness.
And that leads to his confusion as to why his friend likes coffee.
Ranpo once saw [Name] drunk at least 5 cups to finish his school assignments. Like huh? Maybe it's a thing students have to deal with? I mean -- he's technically not a student so maybe that's why it confuses him to his wits end? Regardless the reason behind that habit Ranpo's not one to judge. After all, [Name] was the first ever person that understands him and doesn't shut him down like those adults were.
In fact, [Name] seemed rather fascinated by Ranpo's deductions and how he managed to know everything in seconds.
[Name] was the first person to do that... his first... friend...
So Ranpo's not going to judge him for something as petty as that.
The day Fukuzawa took him in, even though he won't say it out loud he was happy and grateful for it. And [Name] can't be any more happier to found out how Ranpo's life seemed to have a turn for the better. Even if Ranpo doesn't admit it [Name] had always knew about his struggles, his anxiety, his fears, everything. Which why he was beyond happy to found out about it.
Unlike Ranpo who seems to be very gifted in deductions and all.
[Name] is just an average straight A's high school student.
Ranpo has his life planned out before him, a path already build just for him, a path of being a promising detective. "The greatest detective" he'd put it. While [Name] have to find his own path.
Unknowing to all...
This set's him off the rails.
What is he supposed to do? What does he need? What does he want? People say to get a job that you like, that you enjoy. But what about money? Don't you need that to survive? But what if the job ended up being too hard and he'll not like it? What if it's boring? What if it's dull?
But then again what was the point? We all die anyways right? So what was the point in getting a stable and enjoyable job, and a happy life where we all just die in the end?
What if's and questions filled his head, day in day out.
He's not ready.... He needs more time...
But time won't wait for him.. or anyone in that manner...
.
.
Coffee is nice... It keeps your adrenaline high, give you a boost. [Name] couldn't help but enjoy it. That sudden boost of energy makes him more focus on his school work rather than his thoughts. Not to mention that they have quite a nice and pleasant smell the taste is also nice. Because of that [Name] would smell like coffee a scent Ranpo had grown to love, despite saying that coffee isn't his thing.
As time goes on, Ranpo began to be occupied with cases, while [Name] is busy with school. The two barely have time for each other as they used to. But they don't mind as it would just lead to them having a lot more to talk about once they meet again. It was nice... very nice... the warm and pleasant atmosphere...
"Hey Ranpo, since you're practically a detective now. Do you see a lot of bodies."
"Of course I do."
"So seeing one won't scare you? The scent of their blood and the sight of their dead, pale, and possibly disfigured form?"
"Of course not! What kind of detective get's scared of a corpse!"
[Name] chuckles at Ranpo's words, finding the small outburst to be entertaining in some way.
It was a rhetorical question...
It was a rhetorical question, right [Name]..?
Although he doesn't say it, Ranpo felt uneasy at the question. Why is [Name] suddenly asking about that? It felt random. Out of place. Completely out of the blue. It's common to asked that to a new detective, right? But why was it so specific? It probably didn't mean anything, right? But even so... Ranpo can't shake off the feeling that there's a hidden meaning to his friend's words... like a shadow..
As the days turn into weeks and the weeks turn into months and the months turn into years...
[Name]'s graduation day is growing closer and closer.
Ranpo can't be any happier for his friend, a friend he had grown to love... was finally going to graduate high school! He even requested a few days off for this special occasion! Not that he really need to as he could just walk off like usual. But still!!
As happy as he is, Ranpo can't help but have a gut feeling that something is wrong...
He can't explain it but... It's just felt wrong...
Like a dark cloud is hovering above him... dark shadow...
And....
......He's right as always....
The day before the graduation.
Ranpo received a case, which he had refused since he did requested a few days off for his friend's special occasion, but Fukuzawa insisted that he take it. Almost begging.
With no other choice, Ranpo accepts it.
But what he saw in the crime scene was one out of his nightmares.
He didn't even need to open the sheet that covered the body as his had already knew who it is.
The keychain attached to the book bag speaks for itself.
A keychain that belongs to someone dear to him... someone close... someone he had grown to love and adore... someone he was planning to spill his heart out to... someone he was hoping he could call his...
And the results of his deductions didn't help at all. It just made things worse as it revealed to him how much the victim was suffering. A pain that the victim didn't show until their last moments. A pain that Ranpo was too ignorant to notice. A pain where the victim decided that it was too much for them and wanted it to end.
"Why..?"
.
.
The next day... Ranpo graduated from a school he didn't even attend...
He did it in someone's stead.
.
.
Ranpo doesn't like coffee.
No....
He hates it.
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frogchiro · 11 months
Note
(I'm pretty sure I sent this but it mightve not went through, if it did then ignore this one & I'm sorry!)
Pervy! 141 getting jealous at how much time you're spending with Graves. Always going to him to talk about your new tech, going to him for advice or company :( Why not them? They're more capable than he is! They deserve your attention too! Not fair >:(
So they death stare Graves from across the room as you're oblivious to them staring at you rambling behind the computer to him about some code you're figuring out or something else you're working on. You notice him staring at something not paying attention to what you're talking about so you lightly hit his shoulder, and he moves closer and wraps his arm around you, saying "Sorry darlin', repeat that for me?" All the while 141 is just fuming at how you're warming up to him. Price eventually calls you for sparring or something- anything to get you away from Graves.
♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎
LMAO YOU'RE TOTALLY RIGHT
They'd get very pissy if you paid attention to any other man tbh (Pervy!141 can barely stand themselves) but Graves just....rubs them specially wrong :((
They can see clear as day, they're not stupid. Graves is extremely charismatic and confident and HE KNOWS IT, utilizes his southern charm to woo you and truth be told it works :(( Sure he's cocky, sometimes overconfident and arrogant but at the same time he's loyal, charming, gentle and so so protective, especially towards you, his favorite little hacker girl but he can't help it! :(( You're still so young, inexperienced and kind and sweet and he can't just not feel attracted and charmed by you. You're so intelligent, he calls you his 'little tech-wizard' and he smirks and chuckles at the bashful shy look you always get whenever he praises you, makes his cock twitch in his pants and imagines what other noises you'd make as he praises you in bed as you moan and squeal, promises of making you a mama, making you into his pretty little wife growled into your ear-
But the thing is-Philip is no stupid man, otherwise he wouldn't survive as long as he did. He sees the way Task Force 141 looks at you and how they look at you when you're with him; almost growling and snarling like a pack of wolves, possessive over their mate but Philip is no pussy and isn't scared of them, even more so he's pissed knowing that they want to take you from him >:(
It's a really good thing that you're in the more technical/intelligence field so that he can easily sweep you away under the excuse of going over some files or other tech stuff with you, the perfect way of talking with you and getting closer much to the displeasure of 141.
Even right now as you're going on about some files to be hacked he'd looking over your shoulder and staring right into Price's eyes as he and the rest of his little assemble stare daggers at him and barely hold themselves from charging forward and taking you from him, but that ain't gonna happen, not on his watch and Philip has to restrain himself from scowling as he's getting territorial himself.
The one thing that takes his attention is you and your big, concerned doe eyes when you look at him and ask him what's wrong and if he'd listening to you. The blonde man just shakes his head and smiles, southern charm coming forward full force and tells you 'not to worry 'bout that darlin'' before coming even closer to you, putting his heavy arm around your shoulders and leaning into you, pretending to be interested in whatever boring files there are and instead focusing on you as you flush and try to keep your voice from stuttering.
ON the other hand, 141 is gritting their teeth so hard it's a wonder that they're not cracked yet, fuming about that slimy American keeping your from them >:(
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happiest-hotch · 1 year
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Dinner for Three
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Summary: Going to the BAU with the intention of dragging your boyfriend away from working all night proves to be a good decision when you meet a team member of his who needs some cheering up based on the ending scene of 11x09 with an Aaron Hotchner x reader component
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader (fluff)
Word Count: 1.7k
Content Warning: a very slight sexual reference
You're slightly disappointed when you get Aaron's call.
He'd left the BAU early that night to pick you up for your 8 pm dinner date. It hadn't worked, and he texted you something cryptic about a new case involving a longer-running case that concerned the team's technical analyst.
As always, he was incredibly apologetic, calling you as soon as he had a chance, but you don't mind. You know how important his job is and the sacrifices he has to make. Plus, the other times this has happened, he more than made it up to you, proving to be the sweet boyfriend you know he is.
He texts you the next night to let you know they're still working, but he's okay and in Virginia. It's so late that you don't get a chance to text him back until the morning, and you're just hoping he got some sleep during the night, but it doesn't seem likely.
On the second night, he's more upbeat, delivering the good news about his case closing. Oddly, you don't get another message that he's on his way into DC.
With your own profiling effort, you deduce he went to the BAU and got stuck into his paperwork, no doubt putting eating and sleeping at the bottom of his priority list. As a diligent girlfriend, you're walking out the door of your apartment to force him to leave to get something to eat before you can overthink about having never been to his office or the possibility he might not want to see you.
After making it through security and proving who you're there to see, you take the elevator to the sixth floor. It's dead silent, probably because it's close to 10 at night.
Aside from the fluorescent overhead lights in the bullpen and the corridor, the only other light on is an office on the left after you step off the elevator.
It has to be Aaron's since he's most likely the only one here, you reason as you walk toward the door. Gently you tap on the doorframe, but the woman inside definitely isn't your boyfriend.
There are personal belongings in the office, clothing, and boxes scattered on the sofa and table, and two suitcases on the floor, like someone's been living out of the office, and judging by the jacket's pattern, it could be the woman in the room.
She jumps when she sees you, and you quickly apologize. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."
She shakes her head. "No. No, it's okay."
Then you realize it's weird that you're just standing there without an explanation, a total stranger. "I'm looking for Aaron Hotchner."
Nervousness flashes across her features. "Agent Hotchner is due back soon. Sorry, who are you?"
It's a question you expected, knowing you might bump into other agents, despite hoping you wouldn't. Aaron has told you about how he keeps his personal life, and therefore you, further away from his professional life than he used to, and you're not sure he'd want his team to know who you are.
You also should have anticipated the suspicion in her voice since people out there want to hurt them and could find their way into the offices to do so.
"His...friend." You settle on. It doesn't even sound right to say anymore. "Although, if he said that about me, he'd be in trouble." You joke mostly to yourself.
She looks more excited now, grinning like a little kid who's found a secret block of chocolate. "I'm Penelope Garcia, the BAU's technical analyst."
"Oh, of course. Aaron talks a lot about you." You tell her, putting a face to the stories as you shake her hand. "I'm Y/n L/n."
"The reason he smiles every time he checks his phone nowadays?" She asks, now eager.
Heat rises to your cheeks. You've seen the smile Penelope's talking about when you catch Aaron looking at you before he bashfully looks away. It's adorable and heartwarming to think about him doing it around his colleagues and probably trying to hide it.
"Sometimes." You downplay it. "It could be him getting a picture of Jack."
She shakes her head. "No, he shows us those. Texts ding on his phone, and he tries to hide his smile, and that's how we know it's not BAU-related. Theories about what they are and who they're from is the hottest gossip around here."
"It better be me then." You say, although you have no doubts that it is. "Otherwise, he's got some explaining to do."
Penelope laughs lightly. "Don't worry. He's about as loyal as they come."
You had come to that conclusion by yourself, but it's good to have it verified by someone who has known him for over a decade.
She catches your eyes wandering around the room and explains it. "I don't know how much you know, but I'm on lockdown here until further notice."
"Aaron mentioned it vaguely." You tell her. "I'm sorry. It must suck." It's not the most aesthetically pleasing home with bleak concert walls, generic lamps, and no closet. She's provided you with information about Aaron's whereabouts and character, so it's your turn to try and help her. "This couch wouldn't look as bad with some sheets, and I'm sure you've got some decorations. I can help. Only if you'd like, no pressure."
Instantly, she sees the optimistic side of you that Aaron admires and loves. "Yeah." Penelope agrees slowly. "Thank you."
She hasn't wanted to take anything out of her bags because it means this nightmare would be real, but you're offering to help, and she realizes she could do with a friend. If she happened to stumble across information about her boss during the process, then so be it. 
You help her brighten up the room, complimenting her comfort decorations.
"So, what's it like to be in a relationship with Aaron Hotchner?" She asks you as she fluffs the throw pillows on the couch, and you hang fairy lights.
After ten minutes of non-Aaron-related talk, you know she's been refraining from asking questions about your relationship. 
"Amazing." You answer effortlessly. "He's..." You trail off from your sentence when someone clears their throat, and you turn around to see your handsome but tired-looking boyfriend standing in the doorway. "Hey."
His expression softens seeing you there, but his features show confusion. "Hey." He returns while acknowledging Penelope with a nod as he steps further into the room. The hand not holding his briefcase comes to rest on your lower back, and you lean into his warmth. "What are you doing here?"
You weren't expecting him to show you physical affection in front of people he knows, but it's a welcomed surprise. "I thought I'd come and convince you not to sit at your desk doing paperwork all night."
He avoids being very unprofessional and asking exactly how you planned to distract him since you're under the careful observation of Penelope, who's memorizing your interaction to repeat to the team tomorrow. 
"There are still a few things we need to go over, Garcia," Aaron says to her. About the case they just closed, you figure, but it can't be overwhelmingly good news because he wouldn't stretch out telling her that she's safe. "Are you going to be okay?"
You admire her bravery as she nods with tears filling her vision. "I'm gonna make myself a vegetarian omelet for dinner." She says before pausing. "Do you both want to stay?" She quickly backtracks. "Forget that. You've probably got places to be, sorry."
Aaron looks to you for your judgment, and although he's letting you decide since this would typically be time you two spend together, there's an answer he would prefer. 
"No, we've got nothing planned, and I'm starving." You confirm. Penelope's face lights up, the sadness she's holding onto about her new living quarters feeling less heavy. "Do you have jalapenos?" 
"Do I have jalapenos?" She repeats, suggesting an obvious answer. She moved to grab the ingredients. "I should let you know that I have had a love affair with all things hot and spicy since I was, like, 12."
You smile at her delight as Aaron takes the chopping board she handed him with a bowl full of jalapenos. "Maybe the more important question is will you judge me for putting them on my food even if they make me cry a little?" You ask, nudging Aaron, who knows the incident you're referencing.
She looks at him in horror before turning back to you. "Is there any other way to eat them?" She asks.
"Someone." You nod to Aaron, who's getting to work on his task. "Eats spicy food without even tearing up."
He snorts out a laugh. "You weren't crying 'a little.'" He reminds you, defending himself playfully. "It was full-on crying with mascara tracks down your cheeks. You should have seen her, Penelope." He continues. "Seriously, I thought we were about to get kicked out of that restaurant. The waitress was so concerned." He laughs at the memory. He concluded that night that your crying with pleasure tendency is much better when it's only the two of you.
You lightly hit him on the shoulder to scold him before letting your hand linger to test the boundaries. He relaxes under your touch, muscles relaxing a little.
"It's a natural reaction." You jokingly argue back. "I'm on a spicy food ban at restaurants now." You inform Penelope.
"Oh, you've got to come to the next pasta night at Rossi's." She tells you. "It's the best food you can get, no jalapenos involved."
You look to Aaron for permission, not wanting to agree to something if he doesn't want you around his friends. He smiles lightly at you, now knowing introducing you and merging two parts of his life isn't as risky as he thought it might be.
"I'd love that." You agree. "Ready for that, Aaron?"
"Please agree." Penelope jumps in. "They'll love her. Don't worry." She assures you. "I'll make sure the team knows how perfect you are for him." 
Aaron chuckles beside you. "I don't doubt that." 
There's a double meaning that you and Aaron catch. Most obviously, Aaron knows the team will find out about your dinner together and probably learn every detail about you that they can before you officially meet, and additionally, he doesn't have any doubts that you're perfect for him.
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sameschmidtdiffname · 30 days
Note
Hey I love your work so much!!
I was thinking of maybe a Mike Schmidt x reader where the reader is all like “I’m not good enough for you, I don’t deserve you” stuff and then like Mike makes it up to the reader to show them that they are more than enough 🫶
Sure, but it's gonna hurt!
Blue Sunrise
Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader
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Summery: All is well, yet you aren't. A fact that disturbs and irritates you so, even if it shouldn't.
Tags: No use of Y/N, no use of gendered pronouns for Reader, SFW with brief mentions of smut, pre-established relationship, set during the movie but that's honestly not very relevant, hurt/comfort, Reader and Mike both have PTSD, this isn't projection, bed rotting, depression, self-loathing, night terrors/nightmares, panic attacks, sleep deprivation, mentions of medication, lack of self care, slight self-harm (scratching), breakdown, nosebleed.
Notes: *in sonic snapcube dub voice* heyyyyyyyyyyyy what's upppppppppppppp it's meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee (STOP!!)
                     ▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎
6:34 A.M.
The dawn is gentle, the sky a soft blue behind the thin, cheap blinds that cover the bedroom window not that far in front of me. If I wanted, I could get up and open the window, revealing the surely beautiful and gorgeous sunrise that waits for me just outside the blinds.
But I don't. And I won't.
Birds sing gently outside, waking up and fliting about here and there. It's my favorite part of the day, quite frankly. When I can, I open the window to allow in the fresh, cool air, moist with the morning dew, unmuffling the bird's songs as I drift off to sleep, my schedule mostly in tune with Mike's for his night shift. Sometimes I manage to stay awake to greet him when he returns home. It's always nice when I do. His smile is lazy, his strides long and slow as he makes his way to the bed, peeling off his work clothes and crawling under the covers with me. Sometimes he'll press himself against me, his lips finding my neck as his hand dives between my thighs, his fingers trained on one goal as he murmurs against my skin how much he's missed me. Sometimes I wake to this.
There's a part of me that wishes he'd do this today just so I wouldn't have to think.
The lock on the front door rattles as someone attempts to insert a key into the hole. It doesn't matter how long he's lived here or how he uses those keys every morning, he still takes a moment to make sure he's using the right one, and on the first try he usually isn't. So it takes him a solid minute to unlock the door and enter the house. If we had dogs, they'd surely drive us insane from his routine. It slightly drives me insane already. But I'm technically not even supposed to be awake, so I never mention it.
When Mike finally enters the house, the first thing I hear after the satisfying break of the doors seal ringing throughout the living room is a deep sigh as Mike's backpack lands in front of the coat rack. He should be quieter about setting it down. I would be. But I think he assumes we should be so deep in sleep it really wouldn't matter, and it honestly doesn't make much noise. Just a slightly dull 'thud' against the thinly carpeted floor.
Next I can hear his car keys land in the bowl they're meant for. Again, he's a bit too loud with it all. At least, while people are sleeping. But it's not really a bother. In a way, I like it. It gives me a routine to memorize, his sounds before he'll trail to our room and come press himself against me.
The rocking recliner creeks softly as he sits in it, lazily undoing the laces on his boots before he tosses them towards the coat rack. And next he'll duck his head into the fridge I'm sure and look for the leftovers I put into a big bowl for him to warm up - which he won't, because he's a psychopath who likes cold food. - and then when my alarm goes off, he'll come to wake me up, rising from the old couch where he's very quietly reading his book while he eats and do whatever he has to do to prevent me from slipping back into sleep. He's very good at that job. Especially when he uses his tongue.
But today there's a break in the routine. Today, his footsteps are padding towards our room, the door quietly opening as he slips in. I can hear him let out a soft sigh as he tugs on his hoodie, pulling it off and then discarding of his jeans, which muffle the clack of his belt buckle as he slips them off. Left in his undershirt and boxers, he crosses the room to open the blinds and the window, letting in the fresh air and leaning against the thin windowstill for a moment. Now, I can see him.
He looks rested, a little more than he should for having just finished a night shift. I keep telling him he's going to get fired, but he always wiggles his way out of that conversation. The bags usually under his eyes aren't too deep this morning, which while problematic is relieving. His skin is pale blue from the dawns light that pours into the room. His dark curls are more thick on the top of his head, clumped together from him not brushing them after his shower. He must've used too much conditioner, because his hair also looks thicker than it usually does. The breeze blows his oversized pale blue shirt against his chest as he leans forward, allowing his eyes to close as he takes in a deep breath. It feels like an overly private moment. Like I've intruded by watching him. I don't see him like this much when he isn't alone. When he's with me or Abby, he's alert. Somewhat on guard. It's like he's watching us to make sure we're okay. He's too used to things falling apart in an instant. But when he's alone, physically or emotionally, the walls crumble away to reveal a man who enjoys peace. Who smiles softly as he bends down low, resting his chin upon his arms, letting the dawn greet him and being the supposed first in the house to greet the dawn. And I feel like a stalker for watching him. A scene that feels as if I've stolen what will now only exist deep in my mind for when I want to remember one of the few times he has truly ever looked at peace with the world. It's a scene out of a painting. As private as a prayer. I should grant him more privacy, but I don't. In a captivated and enchanted way, I can't.
I'd never tell him this, but in this moment he looks like his mother. And not in the sense of him being her son. No, based off of the few photos I've seen of her in more private, intimate instances, like when she was holding a very small Mike on her lap on his second birthday, or when Mike's father had stolen a photo during their honeymoon when she wasn't looking, Mike looks just like her. Quiet, serene, not hiding anything from anyone because there's no need. At this moment it is just him and the gentle, late winter breeze that makes my nose begin to sting. He's beautiful. Just like she was.
The moment comes to an end, and now it is just a moment that exists only within my mind as his eyes open. The blue dawn brings out the green in his eyes that's usually hidden by artificial light that overpowers the amber, turning them mostly black in some instances. That's the color I thought they were until I saw him in proper daylight. His long lashes bat once, twice in an almost sleepy manner as he shifts his focus, now turning his head to look at me. I shut my eyes quickly, my canines biting into my tongue to force myself to keep a straight face. But it's too late. We made eye contact, even if it was only for a second, and now he knows I'm awake.
"Sweetheart?" He whispers softly, his voice low and slightly gravelly in the way it always is. His 's' and 't's just a tad sharp, clear as always when he speaks. I hear the floor groan as he pads towards me.
I don't speak. I'm not supposed to be awake. I should be asleep, he would rather I was asleep. I tried to be asleep.
He stops in front of me, I can hear the floor groan louder as he crouches in front of me. He's trying to decide if I'm awake or not, if maybe he'd been tricked into thinking we made eye contact. But something convinces him he hasn't, and the bed sinks as he places a hand upon the mattress to support his weight while he kisses my temple.
"Hi," he whispers against my skin, placing another kiss just above the curve of my brow. "Good morning." He places another kiss on the space between my brows, his lips now trailing up to the middle of my forehead. "You look so pretty like this."
Like what? My skin shining with oil, my nose dirty, my body heavy from not having moved?
Something makes him pause when his lips find my cheek. He keeps his lips pressed against my skin for a moment before he pulls away, licking his lips as he looks closer at me.
"Hey," he whispers softly, a finger finding my chin. "Open your eyes."
I don't want to. When I do he'll instantly know what I've been doing, and I don't want to handle it. I don't want to deal with it.
His hand slips under my head, between my cheek and my pillow.
"Sweetheart, your pillow's wet," he says in quiet surprise. "Open your eyes, talk to me."
Hesitatingly, I obey. Cracking my eyes open and trying not to reveal how horrid the dryness in them feels after allowing them rest for a few moments after keeping them open for what could have been hours at this point. Mike's face is inches from mine, his brows furrowed in concern as his eyes scan for other obvious signs of distress.
"Hi," I croak in a tired, unused voice as I try to pretend all is well. Mike unfortunately knows better.
"What happened?" He asks concerningly, taking in the tone he does whenever Abby is upset, fretting over me like I'm an injured child as both of his hands cup my face, his lips finding what he's confirmed are thin, itchy and salty tear tracks, placing several, feather-light kisses along them.
"Nothing," I answer honestly, my voice still cracking. "I'm fine."
"Your eyes are red, baby," he says softly, pulling away to look at me again while his body inches closer. "You look like you've been crying for hours."
Ha. I wish. If I had been, maybe I'd feel better about everything. But instead, I've been lying here since Abby went to bed, feeling numb and dead internally as I willed myself to be upset about anything. Work, bills, the color of the walls. I'd succeeded maybe twice, little tears streaming down my face for a minute or two. But then they would stop, and it would feel as though I couldn't cry. Really cry. Like there was some emotional, maybe physical block preventing me from just truly letting all of my emotions out in a possibly hysterical fit. One that would mean I could connect to my humanity. I don't know what's wrong with me. So, instead I just say "I haven't cried."
Mike opens his mouth to call bullshit, but his brow furrows tighter as he thinks. "What's wrong?" He asks again, now lifting my head to allow one arm to slip underneath so I can lay upon it.
"Nothing," I answer again, truly unsure of what to say. "I'm really okay."
And I am. Work is fine, I am fine. Friends are fine. I don't have entitlement to be upset.
"Is it another episode?" Mike asks softly, now pulling his body onto the bed to lie next to me, fully committed to being partner of the year over here. Ugh. Great.
"No," I answer quickly, averting my gaze. Mike's hand cups my cheek, his body cool compared to mine. I'm soaked in sweat from sleeping - read: laying motionless on the bed since 9:30. - in too warm of clothes in too warm of a room under too warm of blankets. I probably stink. Meanwhile the morning air makes Mike feel refreshing. He's perfect. I'm a mess.
"It's okay if it is," Mike says softly. "It's nothing to be ashamed of if-"
"I'm not having an episode," I say firmly, cutting him off as though it will solidify my statement more than his if I finish mine first. "I'm just not."
I don't pretend to be perfect. I'm not, and I never will be. I know that's okay. I know episodes happen, and that I'll be okay. I've been so much better lately on my new schedule. I'm working, I'm happy.
I have absolutely no good reason to be in the midst of a depression episode. One where the memories won't leave my mind, where I can't sleep, can't think about anything but the past. It plays in my head over and over again, and I can't stop it. Even though I try. I read, I journal, I bathe. But I don't feel real. People don't feel real. Mike is disorienting in the sense that he is the only thing that truly feels real. Where the pale color of the sheets seems hypnotic, his slightly tan skin contrasts to remind me this place really does exist. The furniture and details of the room seem as real as something from a video game, renderings that aren't as realistic as they could be that blend into the wall more as you look. Flat. Nothing. But the freckles on his nose are real. Strikingly real. Overly real. It's as though someone took their time to place each one, carefully deciding their color, their opacity, their placement. I want and love each one, but at this moment they slightly torture me by drawing me into a comforting trap.
"I haven't had an episode in over a month, I'm better," I attempt to say in a firm, solid voice. But I'm too tired, too worn out. My chest burns both from anxiety induced heartburn and how shallow my breathing has been for the past several hours. Mike looks sad, and I hate that. Deeply.
"You have been doing better," he says softly, like a reassuring parent. "I've seen that. And I'm so proud of you."
But I still have this. I'm still like this. I still can't have people wrap their arms around me from behind because I'm instantly taken back to when it would end in me collapsed on the ground, panting, crying, calling out for help that just wouldn't come. I still can't wear shirts with too tight of collars because it always end with me half naked, ripping the shirt off while hyperventilating. That was how I had to tell Mike. For our first Christmas together he bought me this beautiful turtleneck, knowing I liked the style but didn't own many. A dark evergreen color, affordable but a lovely tight-knit material, I adored the thing. But the moment the shirt was over my head, the neck felt like a hand suffocating me, and though I tried to tolerate it fie as long as I could, it only took one casual graze of his hand along my back to send me reeling into a corner, hyperventilating, sobbing, blubbering like a terrified child as I clawed at my neck while he tried to get it off of me.
'I'm so proud of you.' The statement feels like a backhanded reward. It feels as though I'm an idiotic child who just can't learn their ABC's or basic fundamental math. It feels like I'm a small toddler surrounded by adults looking at me full of pity in their eyes while they think 'well, you'll never be normal by any means. But maybe one day if you're lucky, you'll work in a Subway.' But they don't tell me this. They just praise me for existing. 'You woke up today! You put on clothes today! You didn't kill yourself!' It makes me want to scream. Yes, even at him. I want to grab him by his shirt and scream until my voice is shattered 'don't praise me for the bare minimum! I'm not a child!'
But I know he's not. I know he feels the same way when he slips back in progress as well. There was a solid month last year where Mike's insurance refused to pay for his sleep medication due to some paperwork slip and such, something they eventually realized was a complete blip on their end. But that month was hell for Mike, who could barely sleep well even with the medication. His easy smirks were replaced with cracked lips, skin raw from constant biting. His eyes were filled with paranoia from lack of sleep, and worse were the night terrors. Mike didn't even know he was still capable of having them, usually sedated by his meds well enough that if there was a nightmare, he just stayed asleep. At worst he'd wake up in a haze, maybe a very short yelp if anything. But without his meds, it was screaming. Constant screaming. There were nights he would wake after only an hour and he'd start, his voice shrill and reverberating off the walls as he thrashed in the bed. You couldn't console him, touch made him worse. When it happened, you simply had to leave the room and pray he would be okay. The episode could last anywhere from five minutes to an hour, and you would know it was over when all you could hear was broken sobbing, quiet and childlike in nature. Then I would return to the room, and there he'd be. Sometimes wrapped in blankets, sometimes his shirt torn off of himself. Usually sitting either in the dark corner of the room or on the floor of our closet. Red, angry marks would trail along his skin from clawing at himself with his uneven nails, some of them being actual cuts he'd managed in his terror. I'd carefully clean his cuts with cotton balls and hydrogen peroxide while he silently stared ahead, too ashamed to speak or make eye contact with me. And too terrified to sleep again.
Sleep deprivation didn't help, either. One day I saw him with a Redbull stuck in his hand, seemingly never empty despite how much he drank from it. At first I thought it was one, than I realized it was three, then I realized I didn't really know what number he was on. It was surprising how well he could take the new, unusual load of caffeine that tastes sickly sweet without so much as a twitch of an eyebrow. I didn't realize he was trying to starve off sleep until the next morning when his leg was bouncing a mile a minute and he was snapping at every little thing. That day he had a breakdown over dropping an unpeeled onion. And that's when it slipped out.
I didn't judge him. I was terrified for him, but I didn't judge him. And I could tell the same was true for him when I would have my slips, though mine looked different. Mine looked like a lack of self care and rotting in our bed, staring pointlessly ahead until he would lift me off the bed and carefully guide me to a warm bath, where he'd gently wash my skin with a soft rag like I was a newborn while I stared ahead at nothing. At this point we had learned to tell the oncoming signs of each others episodes, and how to starve them off. And if we couldn't, how to help each other through them.
Usually, I don't mind. But today, it hurts. It all hurts.
"Have you eaten?" Mike asks me gently, his thumb gliding over my cheekbone as he wraps me in his embrace, careful of where he places his hands on my person. Like I'm a bomb.
I don't want to be treated like this anymore.
"Yes," I sigh in an irritated voice, like it's the most inconvenient thing he should ask me such a question. But I haven't. I feel empty and yet too full at the same time, and guilt pounds behind my left eye with the ferocity of a headache that I can't just mother myself.
Mike doesn't believe me. He'll pretend he does, but the press of his lips betray him as he takes a deep breath in like he's trying to tell what wire to cut next.
"Would you like to have breakfast with me?" He asks softly, his thumb still stroking just below the raw corner of my eye. It burns. All of it.
'No,' I snap in my head. But I just tighten my jaw and press my own lips together.
"I'm not really hungry, but thank you," I say in a tight voice. Now he's going to pretend that's okay, and he'll go get his breakfast. Then he'll pretend he can't finish it all, joke lightly and say I gave him too big of a portion even though he eats like he's still a growing teenager, and offer me little bites as he "tries" to finish the rest, then eventually trick me into finishing it. He isn't slick, and I'm not a child.
"Hey," he says in a light whisper. "I was thinking maybe we could go out today? All three of us? Or I could call Max, see if she'll watch Abs for a little bit so we can get away?"
Distraction. Cute. I don't need it.
"That could be nice," I admit through half gritted teeth, not meeting his eyes. "Where to?"
"Anywhere," he says too quickly, obviously relieved to have a straw to grasp at. "Your choice."
Guilt twists in my chest like an alien creature settled in my lungs, burning as it begins to slither its way towards my throat to suffocate me on its wrath. He doesn't need to do this. Can't he see how well I'm doing?
"How was work?" He asks me in an attempt to keep me talking. Mike doesn't like silence, not like this. Not really any time. There's always noise throughout the house, whether it's a show on in the background or white noise from his cassette player. He can't stand silence. Especially from people.
"Work was..." Fine? The usual? Non-eventful?
"Good," I decide. Mike presses his lips together again. Stop doing that.
"Yeah?" He asks in a slightly tight voice.
"Yeah," I confirm in a tighter voice.
"You didn't... call out or anything?"
My bottom left back molar feels like it might snap from how tight my jaw is. "Why?" I ask, venom unintentionally creeping in.
"Just asking," he says quickly.
"Why?" I press harder, wanting to know who told on me. Abby hasn't even had the chance to speak with him.
'It's because he knows your patterns,' I think. 'He's trying to gage how serious this is.'
"Maybe we could go out for breakfast? We can wait until Abby wakes up, go get some Waffle Hous-"
"I'm not having an episode," I snap quickly, more harsh than I intended. My tone makes him flinch slightly, his eyes shutting for a moment as he takes another breath in. Now I'm scared he'll pull away.
"We... don't have to talk about this right now," he says softly, opening his eyes again and wrapping his arm around me tighter. "Let's just focus on breakfast."
The guilt pounds in my kidneys, which are sore since I haven't left the bed since I laid down after putting Abby to sleep, but I did have a full water bottle around 3:00 in the morning. It's not Mike's fault I backtracked. He's just trying to be nice. I'm the asshole here.
"I'm sorry," I say in a small voice, dropping my gaze and biting my tongue between my canines again to stop the tears that are now willing to come freely to burn my eyes during such an inappropriate moment.
"It's okay," Mike says softly, placing a kiss on my forehead. "Don't even think about it."
'Don't even think about the fact he's just trying to be a decent person and you can't even say 'thank you,'' a grating voice in my head chides me. 'What, you're too good for a free meal?'
"I'm sorry," I repeat softer, my nails digging into my wrist that I'm holding to keep control over myself. Mike's hand is searching for mine, ready to pry it away to prevent me from doing what I need to to prevent the waterworks.
"Hey." Stop with the 'hey's. "I said it's alright, you're okay."
It's all bad. Everything's bad, and it's not going to get better. I keep thinking I'll get better, I keep thinking I'll be okay. But every two steps forward is one step back and I can't keep doing this redundant bullshit for the rest of my life. Am I going to be 40 at the office Christmas party sneaking off to freak out in the bathroom because something triggered me and I just can't get a grip on things? Am I even going to make it to 40?
Mike is comforting me, cradling my head to his chest and rocking me back and forth. And his shirt is wet. I don't like that his shirt is wet, it should be dry. Why is it fucking wet?
"It's okay," he's whispering in my hair while horrid choking sounds come from somewhere around us. Maybe the other room? "You're alright, it's okay."
I'm aware it's alright, I'm aware it's okay. Why are you wet? Why does my head hurt?
"I can't- sleep," my voice chokes out between guttural sobs, my face pressed into his chest. "It's all nightmares."
Oh. Shit. That's me. The wetness, I did that. My bad.
"I know, it's okay. How long?" Mike asks softly. What, are you gonna call my therapist?
"A week," I moan into his chest. My ribs expand with each recycled breath I steal from against his chest, and I can feel him trying to gently tug me away so I can get one with fresh, cold air instead. I don't let him. My lungs burn more. "They just won't stop."
"It's okay, it's only temporary," he says softly, his hand pushing away some of the blanket to relieve me of the boiling warmth underneath. The cold air is refreshing against my skin, even through my clothes are soaked with stinking sweat.
"No, it's not!" I cry hysterically into his chest. "They don't go away. None of it goes away. I want it to go away!"
He's nodding, rubbing circles on my back as I grip his shirt hard enough it may stretch.
"It'll get better. It did for awhile," he reminds me.
"But I'm back here. I always end up back here. I was doing so good!" I sob, feeling the wetness on his shirt begin to slightly thicken, probably due to snot. I try to sniff it back into my sinuses, but I think that just draws his attention to the new fluid he's covered in.
"That's okay. You'll do even better next time. And if you don't, that's okay too." Don't say what I think you're going to say. Do not. Michael, I'm serious, don't- "I'm still proud of you."
Fuck. Ooooooff!
This is the real release of my emotions. Now I'm gasping, choking, sobbing, making horrible sounds that sound like a European ambulance siren wailing through the streets to announce someone's dying on the way to the hospital. My head throbs with the pain from the heavy crying, and I may give myself a nosebleed from the passion of it all. And Mike, his patience thick and durable, just holds me through it all. Letting me soak his shirt, dirty his skin, grab at him blindly while I wail like a spoiled child, just repeating the phrase over again. 'Proud.' What pride. What honor to be had at such a breakdown. Yes, very understandable.
"I should be better," I sob into his chest. "You deserve better."
"What?" He laughs lightly, and at first it feels mocking, but then he's pulling my head away fron my soaked enclosure and his eyes are so gentle for a moment I know the light laughter is simply from surprise. Then his eyes widen and he's back in parent mode.
"Don't leave me. Don't leave me!" I choke out while gripping his shirt. At first he thinks I'm talking about our relationship, then he realizes I'm not letting him pull away.
"Sweetheart, you're bleeding," he gently explains. "Let me wipe your face. I just need tissues. I'm not even leaving the bed."
But that's too much. Let me bleed, let my head throb, let this headache take the vision away in my eye from how bad it hurts. Let anything happen so long as I can stay in this moment. Don't break the spell. Don't let me go numb again.
"Don't leave me," I cry pathetically, my eyes all scrunched together in the same manner as wailing infants, my grip on his shirt not breaking. Sure enough, there on the wet spot of his shirt is a dark stain of blood that should hopefully come out if we wash it fast enough.
"Let me do that," I'm saying as I try to peel off his shirt now. "Let me wash it."
He's gently guiding my hands away. "Don't worry about it," he says gently, kissing my hands and wrists like they might break even from the delicate graze of his lips. "Let me take care of you."
He does this all the time. He always takes care of me. I should do more. Be more. For him.
"You deserve better," I choke out, feeling like I may suffocate from the tears. Mike's brows furrow in concern, and he grips my chin very carefully as he makes me meet his eyes.
"Hey, no. Get that out of your head, it's all okay," he tells me softly, staring at me like if he can't verbally convince me, his hard stare will do the trick. "I don't want to hear you talk like that."
"I should be better," I repeat, my crying lessening slightly as I try to hold eye contact.
"You're getting better," he reminds me. "This is the happiest I've seen you since we met. You'll get back to that. Hell, you could feel the same way tonight. It's okay. Take a day off. We all need one, even normal people," he says softly, stroking my hair as he kisses my forehead. "Can you just let me take care of you in the meantime?"
No. Go away, let me rot.
"We can still go out for breakfast," he offers gently. "I can still call Max, or we can all stay in. I'll set up a nest in the living room so you can watch TV. Works you like that?"
Stop. Stop being nice to me, stop trying to make me feel better. It all just feels awful. I don't want this guilt, someone takes it away.
Mike must sense my overwhelmed emotions, because he places another kiss on my forehead before asking if he can clean my face again, and this time I say yes. He pulls away, which is still upsetting but less so. I don't make a deal out of it this time at least. He opens a drawer, searching for wipes and pulling them out before turning back to me.
"Do you want to sit up?" He asks gently. I bite my tongue to prevent another mocking thought directed towards me and nod. Bones crack as I do, my kidneys hurt worse. But at least I finally moved.
Tears still streak down my face as Mike wipes away the snot and blood, his large hand gently cupping my face as he does. There's a soft smile on his face, though I'm not particularly sure why. And when he's done, he runs his thumb along my bottom lip before placing his own lips on top of mine. They're chapped, one spot raw from excessive biting. But there's still some leftover chapstick on them, and it tastes like grapefruit.
I tug on his shirt, one hand sneaking under it to feel his cool skin underneath. He gently takes my wrist once more, then pulls away. A silent rejection. He knows that I'm just looking for a distraction from my emotions, and in a moment he'll offer a much healthier one. He does discard the shirt, leaving his chest bare, but only so that he doesn't smear my fluids back onto me as he pulls me in for another embrace.
"We'll be okay," he promises. "Everything will be okay."
"What if it's not?" I ask in a quiet, strained voice.
"Then it'll be okay later. You can take time to not be okay," he says.
There's a short silence before either of us speak. And when I hear his voice hitch in the way it does when he's about to say something, Abby's alarm rings crystal clear in her room. Then the sound of a truck rattles by on the road in front of the house. Birds continue to sing. And my pours feel so clogged I'm sure my skin will be lashing out for days.
But it'll all be okay.
                             ¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤
"Can we have some fluff to reco-" no. Suffer.
Taglist:
@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool @laurrrelise. Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3
               •▪︎Masterlist▪︎•
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l0vergirls · 7 months
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omg i love your yandere batfam sm!!!! may i request a part 2 where they end up kidnapping the reader? id love if it was gender neutral reader but if not thats ok!!
hi anon!!! tysm for the love on the yandere batfam post !!<33
to be honest, i was planning on making the reader more willing in this au, but i haven't elaborated enough on their character yet! i was planning on the brothers slowly easing into the reader's life, as seen with dick, jason, and tim. then once the batfam feels that reader's relationship with tim has developed enough, he'll make his way into their heart— aka be the perfect boyfriend!
from there, the reader would be invited to the mansion a lot more often, also spending many nights there, as the reader would be feeling lonelier in their small, dingy apartment compared to a big mansion seemingly full of life. jason, dick, and damian would be introduced to the reader as tim's brothers, with the reader being mostly amused with the fact that they're already familiar with 2 of tim's older brothers. they'd write it off as a coincidence. at first.
bruce always seems to be too busy when you come over, so you've seen only fleeting glances of the man, with the way he disappears into the shadows feeling far too familiar.
but let's say the batfam is more impatient, and they're just itching to get to you already.
they're tired of watching you from the shadows, and through the cameras (where you always seem so close yet so far). so they make a plan: they'll take you in your sleep, all precautions taken of course, and settle you into your very own room at the wayne mansion.
they don't tie you to the bedpost of anything like that, no, you're not an animal! they'll all keep their distance, watching from cameras they've planted (again) as you gain consciousness.
you're a lot calmer than they expected, carefully looking around the unfamiliar room. they've rearranged the furniture to nearly mirror your own room in your apartment. nearly.
they've arranged some things for maximum comfort, that you've failed to do so in your place.
they can barely see your hand shaking as you reach to open the door.
they decide that tim should be the first one you see.
as you head down the corridor, you bump into your friend. you can barely make out signs of nervousness coming from him; his cheeks are flushed, and you can see a light sheen of sweat across his hairline. you choose to ignore how his eyes have almost lost all colour, with his dark pupils heavily dilated.
their goal here is to not freak you out and risk your running away. given what they know about you, there's a chance you'll stay, even with great hesitance.
so, they'll act slow and steady.
your heart races in your chest, threatening to jump out. if you're being honest, you can't even comprehend what had happened.
why were you in a strange room, in a strange house? you fell asleep in your bed, in your apartment.
so, how did you get here?
why is tim here?
what were you doing here?
you ask him as much, but your voice is no louder than a whisper.
it's a miracle he even heard you, but tim is always willing to strain his ears, to earnestly listen to you.
"why don't we tell you over breakfast?" he says, in his oh so kind voice.
you don't get a chance to answer before he's guiding you to the kitchen with a tight grip on your hand.
on your way there, you realise it's a house that was bigger than you thought. a lot bigger.
the enticing smell of breakfast reaches you before you get there. your steps only quicken by a beat, but tim notices.
as you turn a corner, you're surprised to see a few familiar faces. jason, your sweet neighbour, and dick, the funny detective that happens to be a regular at your work.
there are three other strangers in the kitchen.
bruce wayne, who isn't technically a stranger, you can't live in gotham and not know who he is, but a stranger nonetheless. his dark, dark eyes seem to pierce your very being and see right through you.
a boy, younger than you by just a few years. he's got a tan to his skin, and eyes that seem eerily similar to bruce wayne's.
lastly, an older man, in a tuxedo only befitting a butler. considering bruce wayne was in this house, you think he is a butler.
a look of recognition must have been present in your face, as dick, bless his heart, smiles gently at you, taking your hand from tim's and sitting you next to him.
his toothy smile does nothing to calm you, unlike many other times before.
your eyes snap to bruce wayne's as he clears his throat. a sign that he demands your attention.
you stay silent.
the familiar faces and smiles have done nothing to appease you, but why? why do they unsettle you, when you have turned to those same smiles for comfort?
"i'm sure you have a lot of questions, (y/n)."
usually, bruce wayne saying your name would be an occasion any other person would celebrate. though you can't find it in yourself to feel flattered, not when he says it with such ease... such intimacy, as if he had uttered your name many times before.
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ok i didnt know how to end this but i will elaborate on reader's character more next time !!! swear !!!! i have thought most of it out so please look forward to it! <33
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halfagone · 3 months
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A Mandalorian Halfa Jedi?
I am thinking... about my Danny Phantom x Star Wars AU again. I mentioned this in the Haunting Heroes discord server, but imagine this:
Danny gets lost in the Star Wars universe, maybe they're part of the same universe, maybe not. We know that Earth technically exists there, so it's possible. Nonetheless, Danny gets lost and is eventually picked up by the Jedi. It is during the Clone Wars era, at the height of the war. Ectoplasm either functions the same as the Force out in larger space, or it easily passes off as the Force. Therefore, Danny is considered Force-sensitive and brought to the Jedi council.
He's far too old, older than even Anakin was, but he already displays some skill with the blade (thanks to his mom's training), and he's far too powerful with the Force to leave for the Sith or Dark Side users running about to find him. Those like Count Dooku or Asajj Ventress or whoever Dooku's master is (and, depending on the timeline, Maul and his brother Savage as well).
It's decided that Obi Wan should train him, since he did well with Anakin despite Anakin's older age for a youngling and lack of familiarity with Jedi customs and culture. As well as Obi Wan's own young age as a Padawan himself at the time. Surely, Obi Wan could whip him into shape and they need all the help they can get on the field.
Anakin does not like Danny at first. Not at all. He might have joked all he liked beforehand about Obi Wan getting another padawan, but seeing it happen is an entirely different experience. Danny gets along well with Obi Wan, with his dry, witty humor and his tendency for unorthodox strategy. Worse still, Ahsoka likes Danny. These two are peas in a pod, partners in crime. It feels like he's been forgotten and replaced and by someone seemingly better.
And then one day, when the 212th and the 501st are stationed together, he finds Danny shaking with night terrors, the Dark Side so strong in him Anakin is literally freezing from the cold. It's only then that he understands Danny a little bit better, and sees himself in this kid. Danny fights the Dark Side within him just like he does, and he never lets it consume him. Maybe for once, he can learn a little something from this kid too, and not let it overwhelm him.
And here is the part where I realized a golden opportunity:
What if the Jedi think Danny is a Mandalorian that was cast out for being Force-sensitive? Danny has an affinity for weapons beyond the blade, like cannons and guns and snipers. He talks about how his family taught him to use these weapons, that he's known this all his life. He talks about how his family wears suits all the time and hardly ever takes them off. He talks about always being afraid to reveal his powers to his parents, and how ultimately he ran away because of them.
Oh all the scenarios that could come out of this~
But now I'm also thinking about how strong Danny would feel in the Force. How much Danny could do on the battlefield because now he doesn't have to hold back. Droids might have more intelligence than a lot of sentients give them credit for, but if it's between the very alive, flesh and bone, clones of the Grand Republic Army and the Separatists' metal droids, Danny is absolutely going to be ruthless if it means the clones are safe.
Danny can literally control the weather. Imagine what happens when Danny creates an electrical storm for the first time to take down an enemy starship and the clones just look between themselves, whispering about how: "I didn't know Jedi could do that." "Is that how the Force works?" "Kriff if I know-"
And that's another thing! Clones! Danny would be absolutely appalled that so many clones were created and their freedom at the end of the Clones Wars is still up in the air.
It also ties beautifully with his love for space and now he's living the dream! Except space isn't what he thought it would be. And there are planets out here that have barbaric standards. It's the adventure of a lifetime! But there's a part of him that still wants to go home.
Just- all the possibilities and shenanigans this could bring. ✨
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koolades-world · 2 months
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Can you do Obey Me headcanons of a Christian MC? MC isn't a toxic one though, they're actually super nice and supportive of everyone and such. They're also generally really trusting and try and see the best in people. They're more or less just extremely concerned and slightly uncomfortable with the entire being kidnapped and brought to hell thing(and also being forced to attend school again)
They also got really excited when they learned angels were gonna be attending RAD too, so there's that lol
Like when they saw Simeon and Luke for the first time they mentally went "THIS IS A MOMENT IN HISTORY!!!! TAKE A PICTURE!!!"
haha hi!!
when I first saw this I was really looking forward to doing it! been thinking about it a lot
one of my best friends is actually a christian who plays obey me, and she was the one to introduce me to the game. I think she would find this funny, so I'll def be thinking of her while I write this haha (if you're reading this, which you very much might be, heyyyy happy late bday girl)
Christian Mc
Lucifer
once you realize who he is, you're freaked out, both in a good and bad way
like, this is the lucifer! you ask to take a picture lol (and he's not amused)
you're a little sad and relieved when he pawns you off to mammon, since you're awed by his presence but also terrified since you knew the part he played in the bible by heart
once you get to know him, the both of you chuckle about human depictions of him and you finally get that picture! be sure to make him sign it and then frame it
Mammon
learns quickly just how many copies of the bible you own once he spends enough time in your room including but not limited to the version on your phone, the mini version in your RAD bag, and the one you keep on your side table
once you get to the stage of basically living together, he learns that you read the bible and say a prayer nightly
at first, he was nervous having to be the one to guide you but he learnt you were probably more scared of him, and you were actually just so sweet
he jokingly picks up all of the jesus merch he finds so now you have an entire shelf
Levi
the most normal out of the brothers besides the fact that he spends all his time in his room, but that kind of reminds you of a brother you only see like once a day
it's almost scary and a little jarring walking into his room, but after that, you guys get along so well
he admits that he thought the exchange program was weird, and it was all history after that
unlikely besties: a devout christan human and their gamer social outcast demon
Satan
highkey fuming about the fact that humans don't know that he and lucifer are different (he for sure smashed up an entire room of the house)
after he calms down from this though, although it takes a while for the two of you to get to know each other, he takes joy in making fun of the slanderous things said about lucifer
you both like to read but the only thing you reread and read nightly is the bible so
luckily he doesn't care about that since it wasn't his dad anyways (don't remind him that it's technically his grandpa's book)
Asmo
the first time you showed him biblical version of him, he was disgusted and refused to speak to you for the next two and half days
after that he feels a little bad since he knows you didn't mean it like that and since you basically tip toe around him
after that he comes on a little strong, but after a while you get along pretty well despite being so different
he’ll reminisce while you listen carefully and hold onto every work he says since he was a real angel and that’s so cool
Beel
while you were initially terrified of him, you quickly learnt how much like he actually was
at the core, you were both just a kind person (or demon) who wanted to help others and uplift them
always there for you to lend a listening ear and to help out out if others are giving you problems
the first in the devildom to make you feel truest welcome and let you know that you could call it home
Belphie
at first he thinks it’s a joke and kinda pokes fun at it
once he realizes you’re being serious, he feels a little bad but also still thinks is very funny how you hide your face behind a bible when you’re scare
has had holy water thrown at him, and has found a bible under his pillow before (gosh who could’ve done that…)
used to jump out at your from around corners in his demon form and it sent your running every time so you can prepared with a rosary blessed by the pope to shove in his face if he dare to try again
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coupleoffanfics · 9 months
Text
Batfam and batsis y/n headcons
y/n's Younger Years
8-12 years old
y/n was brought to the manor for the first time when she was 8 years old. Often got lost in the place because of how big it is the first week. If she couldn't find where she was trying to get to and no one was around to help, she'd just slump against the wall. Silently cry until someone was passing by, it was usually Alfred.
Jason just became Robin when y/n rolls in. He doesn't have much of an option of her for the first few weeks. Thought she was annoying with how much she cried and how clingy she was.
She clings to anyone because she doesn't want to be left alone in general and especially not in an unfamiliar environment. Alfred became her favorite first because of his cooking and baking. Jason is the second person she clings to. The only reason Bruce is in third place is because Jason just looked less scary.
When Bruce and Jason come back from a rough mission, Alfred walks up to the both of them before handing them each a paper. "Miss y/n made this for you before going to bed."  The two pieces of paper were drawings of their hero personas. Both written at the top, "My #1 hearo!". The misspell adds to the charm of the crayon drawing.
Sometimes if y/n and Jason happen to be in the library at the same time. She asks him what a word is, what it means, and how to pronounce it. It's kinda cute, until it happens every 3 minutes. He didn't think much of it, just thought that she was just a dumb kid being a dumb kid.
Later speculates that she might be dyslexic and lets y/n reads out loud to him. Helping her sound out the words and whatnot. Surprisingly he finds himself enjoying helping her and kinda looks forward to these readings. He notices how her reading gets more fluent as time goes on and he can't help but feel proud.
Before going off on a mission or patrol, y/n always hugs Bruce. If he's going on a mission she makes sure to hug him longer and tighter. Explaining, "To give you more power to be safe." Does not understand what the hell she's saying, but still appreciates it.
"Why don't you give Jason a hug?" Bruce asks after hearing the explanation. "Because Jason is already strong and protects you. You need as much strength." Bruce kinda just sits there more confused than ever and Jason is smirking to himself. He doesn't understand what y/n said himself, but what he does know is that she said he was stronger than Bruce and that's all he needed to hear.
Whenever Dick comes around to visit, he tries to make an effort to connect with y/n. She already has Alfred, Jason, and Bruce so she doesn't really feel the need to care about him on a deeper level. He's barely there and she already has enough people that she can cling on to.
He'll show off his acrobatic skills and y/n just drily says, "That's cool." Then runs off to find Jason. He's totally not hurt by the fact that his little sister likes Jason more than him. What? No.
It's not like he wanted a poorly drawn Nightwing that had, "#1 hearo", written on it. That he'd treasure and keep forever. No, he didn't care about that. Yep, not one bit. Though sadly he's not able try to bond with y/n as much as he'd liked since he's leading the Titans.
Barbara isn't around when y/n is usually awake. Often handle cams and technical things as Oracle. Though when they do interact y/n just in awe simply by the fact that she's still working in the hero field after what Joker did. Training hard, so that she'd live up to Barbara's legacy as Batgirl.
The two aren't too close yet when y/n is young, but they're definitely closer than y/n is with Dick. y/n totally didn't have a puppy crush on Barbara for the longest time. Okay, she did for a bit.
A year in the manor, Bruce begins to train y/n more. Taking note of how she's quick on her feet, but her punches are slower than her kicks. Is worried how much she looks up to Jason because Jason is rather reckless and doesn't mind putting himself in danger. Honestly he would have liked it if she just looked up to Dick or someone else.
Batman isn't about violence as ironic as it sounds. Violence is only to be used when there is no other way to stop one from harming others. So Bruce was kinda worried that y/n might take a more brash approach by following Jason, but it turned out to be the opposite.
Almost reminded him of Dick with her passive approach. Almost because she's just a bit too passive at times. It takes three years for y/n to be able to take on the Batgirl persona. Mainly because it's taken a while for her not just to dodge, but also take action by attacking.
Taking action probably wouldn't have come sooner if it wasn't for Jason's death. Hearing the news was hard for everyone. y/n was put to bed before it happened, so she was told of what happened by Bruce the next morning. Not saying any explicit details.
Everything around her seemed so much more somber. The man that was telling her what happened while looking away from her felt surreal. It was like losing her parents again.
She became numb. She heard the words and understood them, she just couldn't believe it. Not even when she watched his casket being lowered into the ground, she couldn't believe it.
Seeing how Bruce was putting on a straight face made things harder. It was like nothing had happened. She knew when she was older that was far from the case, but at the time it made her feel like that's what she had to do as well. He spent more time being Batman, that meant she'd spend more time training.
It worries Barbara and Alfred seeing how both of them are becoming closed off. Barbara takes note of how often y/n looks at Jason's memorial. When she tries to comfort y/n, the girl is quick to avoid the conversation. She might just walk away if Barbara keeps pressing on the subject.
Less time playing or drawing. More time in the batcave and avoiding the library. Months after everything Bruce allows her to pick up the Batgirl persona.
Putting on the suit for the first time didn't feel as grand as she thought it would. It left a bitter taste in her mouth. She wanted to rip it off because it felt like there was no point. It felt like all this constant training to be Batgirl was all for nothing. She came up with this fantasy that becoming a hero would free her from this numbness, that it’d make her happy just like it had Jason. Yet all it did was remind her that maybe if she tried harder to become Batgirl sooner that she could have a chance at saving him. She wished she could have hugged him before saying goodnight that night.
The only reason she didn't rip off it and burn the suit was because Bruce was waiting. There was no time to waste since Poison Ivy was on the radar tonight.
Jason's name is rarely said, but thought of more often than not. The only time y/n and Barbra openly talked about him was after dealing with the Joker and Quinn.
y/n didn't immediately leave the batcave like usual after every patrol or mission. She just stood in front of his memorial staring at the costume while Bruce left to do something that y/n didn't care about. It was just y/n and Barbara alone in the cave. "I miss him." Her voice echoed out nearly scared Barbara.
Barbara stopped what she was doing and responded with, "I do too." She waited for a moment to see if y/n would keep talking. She didn't want to push it since this is the first time y/n is even openly talking about him.
After the brief silence y/n asked, "He's in a better place, right? That means I shouldn't be sad, but I still miss him. I don't care if he's in a better place like everyone says, I want him back here with us." That's what opened the floodgates. The rest of the night was spent talking about the late Robin and helping y/n with accepting his death. Also giving her a new found eagerness towards being Batgirl and forming a strong bond with Barbara.
There was no chance of her saving Jason back then, but now she can at least save others from facing the same fate as him.
Then Tim crashes in and suddenly y/n has another brother. If Bruce thought he was good then y/n thought so too. Originally she thought that she wasn't going to be that close to Tim, but they just clicked. Tim thought y/n was so cool when she put on her suit and fought crime with Bruce. He couldn't wait to fight alongside both of them.
y/n saw Tim as a geekier and nerdier Barbra honestly. He may be smarter than Barbra, but she'll always be the best one in y/n opinion.
Tim would try to teach y/n how to hack or code since she showed interest in it, but she never got the hang of it. It usually just resulted in them goofing around. Lounging on the couch while playing video games. Tim was more into games that have sci fi themes, while y/n liked to play fantasy games, but they both loved RPGs. It's clear who was putting more thought in the game because y/n just spams attack and Tim is writing down the crit rates.
By the time Tim comes around, y/n is starting to babble in culinary. If she finishes making something, she'll wander around to find him. Makes him put down whatever he's doing to try what she made. She insists that she doesn't have a favorite when shoving food in Tim's face. "You're my lab rat. Testing if my cooking is edible before I give it to Pa, Alfred, or Barbara."
They used to have the same classes until Tim was able to skip a grade. y/n doesn't tell anyone that she's upset about it, but everyone can tell and Tim makes sure to reassure her. "It's not like we're going to never see each other again, y/n. We'll see each other in the halls and during lunch." She sighs, "I know, I know. Just let me wallow in my feelings and I'll be fine."
When there are low days for y/n that make it impossible for her to get out of bed, Tim sits in her room. Chatting about anything and not leaving her alone unless asked. It's nice that he does that, yet it still makes her feel bad for making him stay with her. It's not like she asked for company and she does need it during those moments. It made her feel like a liability.
Everyone is happy to see y/n and Tim getting along so well. y/n hasn't been as talkative or lively since Jason.
When Tim becomes Robin, y/n is put off by how much he resembles Jason. It kinda scared her. She never realized how similar they both look. It makes her wonder if that's why Bruce adopted Tim and allowed him to become Robin.
Catwoman has a soft spot for the newest Batgirl. She just watches her run around with Batman and Robin. There's just a sense of goofiness to the new Batgirl that she can't take seriously.
y/n's Teenage Years
13- 18 years old
The whole Red Hood ark left y/n with a broken arm, bruises, and wondering if this was what she wanted. It was nice to see Jason again, but it felt like she couldn't approach him. Also spending a lot of time in the batcave with Barbara and Alfred since she couldn't patrol with a broken arm. "At least he didn't break my dominant arm." y/n chuckled to herself humorously, Barbara doesn't laugh and glances at y/n. Barbara didn't find anything funny about it and she's sure y/n didn't either, she was probably still in shock.
Barbara is kinda mad at Jason, may or may not want to run over his foot with her wheelchair. Of course, she understands the betrayal and anger that he feels. She just thinks trying to take out y/n as well is a bit much, well everything that he's doing it a bit much. She just thought out of everyone y/n would be given the most mercy by Jason.
Jason may have forgiven Batman and everyone to an extent, but she just can't help herself from feeling guilty. Of course, she noticed that not only did he distance himself from the family, but her as well. He'd never be in the same room with y/n long enough for her to ask how he was doing. It made her believe that he was resentful toward her. It didn't matter if that wasn't the case, it just hurt that the person she's been missing for years doesn't want anything to do with her.
The thought of if there was even a point to any of this came up once more. Tim was joining the Titans for a bit, Jason was off on his own, Dick was in Blüdhaven or something y/n didn't care, and Bruce and Barbara were doing what they always do. It just wasn't as appealing as it once was. It almost became stale and she found herself feeling happier doing less action packed things.
Then one night y/n impulsively said that she wanted to quit to Burce. It wasn't a surprise to him as he saw her diverging from the path and let her drop the Batgirl persona. Honestly he was glad that she quit, he wished that his other kids would choose to live a normal life. That was one less child to worry about getting killed.
Of course, Barbara is the first to question y/n about her decision. A little while later Tim is the one trying to get an answer out of y/n. Jason is too ashamed to ask or even be near y/n. Dick doesn't find out until a month later after visiting the manor then starts asking if y/n was okay this and that. None of them got a concrete answer except for Barbara.
"It's something I'm not interested in anymore. I want to live a normal life, get married, and have kids. I'm not going to truly have that if I stay as Batgirl. And I'm not like any of you. I'm not good enough, I'm never good enough. Gotham never needed me anyway and they won't be losing anything because I quit."
Hearing that, Barara immediately opened her arms signaling for a hug. Feeling overwhelmed from spilling out her feelings, y/n accepted the hug. "I understand and I won't stop you. If being Batgirl doesn't make you happy, that's perfectly fine. You deserve happiness just like everyone else. The only thing I'm against is you calling yourself worthless. You were a good- no you were amazing as Batgirl and you are amazing when you aren't. Remember that."
Tears are running down the girl's [skin tone] face. Her throat was tight and she knew she couldn't talk without making a guttural sound. So she nodded her head. Barbara held y/n until she let go. Wiping the tears from her face, she turned to Barbara and said, "Please don't tell the others about this." Barbara kept this between them.
It's clear that out of the whole family that Barbara is the first and really only one y/n goes to for emotional support. y/n hates crying in front of anyone seeing it as her personal weakness. y/n is close to Tim, he doesn't know how to respond to y/n's emotions. Barbara seemed to always know what to say and y/n felt more comfortable being vulnerable around her.
The drift from the family isn't noticeable. y/n comes down to the batcave from time to time, but her time there is greatly cut in half. She starts hanging around her best friend, Norah, more often. Joins the track and fencing club seemingly not able to let go of some old habits.
When Tim leaves for the Titans the mark of when y/n and the family drift apart. There's small chat and not complete strangers. When Tim does come back he has taken on a new persona of Red Robin.
It's just a normal day, y/n is messing around in the kitchen when Tim comes up to her. There's just a strong air of anxiety around him that makes her anxious. "y/n, I need to tell you something." She puts down the cookbook and looks at him with a raised eyebrow. He takes a deep breath, "I'm bisexual." y/n's shoulders suddenly relax and she starts laughing.
He's confused and not sure what to do. She quickly explains through her laughter, "I'm sorry. I just thought you were going to say something horrible like you ran over a cat or something. I don't know." Taking a moment to calm herself she adds, "That's cool, I'm bi/pan. I also need to go to the bathroom, could you please watch the water and make sure it doesn't boil over? Please and thank you!"
She doesn't make a big deal over it because she just sees it as normal. It's nothing to celebrate about in her opinion, but she's glad Tim trusted her enough to tell her. Most of the family probably doesn't know her sexuality since she hasn't openly said it. It's just something that she doesn't feel the need to talk about.
Damian enters the picture when it's been almost a year since y/n quit. She is completely put off by how he behaves and has no idea how to handle it. He likes picking on his siblings, but when he picks on y/n it almost seems malicious. Whenever she tries to bond with him or get to know him, he just snaps at her.
Now she kinda knows how Dick felt.
Speaking of Dick, he starts coming around the manor more. Only for Damin of course and y/n can't help but feel almost a little jealous. He never took her out for bowling or anything when she was Damian's age. That jealousy then evaporates seconds later because she realizes how to stupid it is to be jealous over that. Damian needs a lot of help to be integrated into normal society.
Jabs made at her are brushed off as she believes that it's just him coping. He was in a new environment with new people, it was only natural for him to cope in some way regardless if it was healthy or not. His insults were never that bad. Often consisting of calling her worthless.
They were just jabs and nothing more. Not knowing that it was chipping away at her already fragile self confidence. Damian is part of the reason why she doesn't go to the batcave anymore or talk at the dinner table. Also always has something to say, something to nitpick. With how consistent it is, y/n goes to Bruce.
Asking if he could tell Damian to just knock it off just once. She thought that he'd talk to Damian and that things will cool down since she can't even get a word in without him saying something. It's not like he never listened to her anyway. Then Bruce tells her to bush it off. He's just a kid and he's going through a lot. Bruce doesn't even look up from his paperwork when saying this.
It was like y/n was smacked in the face. She wonders if he believes what Damian is saying. That she had no right to be living here with them or that just a freeloader. She felt like she couldn't go to Tim about this as she didn't want to emit that this kid's words were getting to her. She doesn't even want to go to Barbara about this.
Because maybe Damian is right.
y/n didn't deserve to be around heroes. All she did was waste their time when they could have been saving lives. They'd go to her fencing tournaments when they should be locking up villains. She was truly a waste of space.
Lowkey Damian wants y/n to fight him. He wants to see Batgirl in action and see what her fighting style would be like. To some extent he just wants her attention, but how he goes about it just pushes her away. He's seen her fencing a few times and is kinda impressed by her fast and fluent movements.
During her junior year at high school was when she started cutting off ties with the family. Never talking during dinner, never showing up at the dinner table. If she's not out of the manor then she's in her room. Everyone is so busy that no one notices her isolating herself. No one, but Barbara.
Barbara tries talking to y/n, but she is constantly shutting it down. Constantly running away from any conversion. Yet Barbara doesn't give up as usual. Unlike any other times y/n doesn't open up.
One day Barbara said something that made y/n let her walls down. "I'll alway make time for you." She stops walking, thinking to herself before looking over her shoulder and tells Barbara, "I have practice next monday, but after that we could go see a movie or something. If you want." The woman nods her head with a small smile.
Tim is no longer y/n's favorite. Not favorite, just no longer the one y/n hangs out with the most. Barbara is the only family member that y/n lets her walls down for. The only family member that she keeps in touch with.
When y/n gets a boyfriend. y/n makes a beeline toward Barbara for any advice. With how much she gushes over him, Barbara wants to meet him. It takes a while for the two to meet and when they do it's kinda awkward. Xander Jeremiah is every stoic and not sociable. Barbara doesn't know what to think of him, but if he does care about y/n that's all that really matters. 
Seeing the two of them interact reminds Barbara of those dumb intj and infp relationship memes she saw online.
y/n Young Adult (Present)
19 years old
y/n doesn't really tell the family much of any and would not be surprised if they didn't know she moved out after high school. As much as y/n wanted to get out of Gotham, she ended up staying because of best friend and boyfriend. Going to college and majoring in art. Barbara and y/n spend a little less time with each other, but still text almost daily.
y/n is forced to interact with her family after Jerome becomes a prominent figure in Gotham and has some odd obsession with her. After an incident at a charity event, y/n is persuaded into staying in the manor. She planned on staying for only a week or so. At least until Jerome was caught and sent to Arkham.
Damian is more mellowed out and almost makes an effort to talk to y/n, but she just tries to get away from him as soon as possible.
Tim is concerned about the aloofness y/n projects around others. Also highly suspicious of that blonde lady that comes around to talk to y/n. She's never been so secretive before and it hurts that she doesn't come to him about anything like she used to.
Jason still tries not to interact with y/n, but he lingers around the manor. He can't bring himself to forgive himself for physically hurting her all those years ago. He promised himself that he'd protect his little sister when he was Robin and broke it again by letting Gotham's newest psycho kidnap her.
Dick acts like everything is fine or is going to be fine. That he and y/n had always been somewhat close. Not taking a hint that he's overstepped a boundary that he never had the right to cross.
Bruce is Bruce. Bruceing around or something, y/n doesn't really know what he does anymore. He's the one who suggests that y/n relearn self defense and she agrees. It's been awhile since she even fought anyone, so she is a bit rusty.
Damian would have offered to teach her, but Dick and Tim are fighting over the possession. Tim wants to reconnect with y/n, back to being friends that have each other's backs. Dick is trying to help y/n. He has the most fighting exprace, so that means he should be the one to teach y/n. Jason is not going near y/n. In the end y/n had Bruce reteach her self defense. It was just like old times.
The whole time there the family is awkwardly interacting with y/n. When at the dinner table there are questions thrown at her. She answers just about any question almost curtly. The only question that she seems to avoid is about the blond lady. "She's just a friend." y/n claims, "Everyone just calls her Echo. It is a childhood name." It was clear that she was lying, everyone knew it, but no one called it out.
They always talked in private. In hushed tones and "Echo" never stayed for long. Honestly Tim thought that Echo was y/n's girlfriend after walking by her room when Echo was in there, he swears he heard y/n say I love you. When Tim told the other about this, Barbara was rolling her eyes. There was no way that y/n would cheat on Xander. Even if they broke up Barbara would have known, she assumes that y/n meant it in a platonic way. y/n has always been quite affectionate in both platonic and romantic relationships.
When Jerome is caught and sent to Arkham, y/n goes straight back to her apartment. It doesn't matter how much they try to get her to stay, Jerome is locked up and there is no reason for any intense security. If they try to counter her argument, she'll just drop the act and lay almost everything out.
"I don't want to be here, I don't belong here, and there isn't anything that is going to keep me here now that Jerome is in Arkham." Her voice wasn't loud, just tired and almost upset.
The most affected by her words is Damian ironically. Her words echo the things he said a while ago. He never gave a second thought of how it affected her. Hearing y/n say that and walk out the manor without looking back left him stunned. He didn't know what to do, what to say. That night he didn't sleep.
The family will try to keep their distance. Except for Damian and Dick. Dick will hang around the college campus and try to drag y/n off somewhere, if her best friend is with her then they'll drag her away before Dick is even able to say anything. Sadly her friend isn't always there, so there are some days she spends the afternoon at the zoo or amusement park with Dick. Damian will just show up at y/n's apartment and walk in like he owns the place. She has no idea how he got a spare key, but she is too busy trying to get him out to think about that.
Damian finds out y/n is in a big sister program and he'll screeching at her. "Why are you taking care of them? You're my big sister, not theirs! They don't have the right to call you their sister!" He's having a mental meltdown in the middle of her living room. She has no idea what the fuck it going on and doesn't know how to handle it. When she tries to calm him down, he starts throwing things and that's when she dials Dick's number.
Dick is able to calm Damian down and drives him back to the manor. Before they go Dick talks y/n. "You know how Damian is, he is very protective of those he cares about. I am just disappointed in both of you. He should haven't reacted that way, but you shouldn't be in that program in the first place. You already have Danian and I think this just made him feel like he isn't important to you." y/n has a severe case of whiplash after hearing what he just said. She can't argue back because he already left.
The rest of the family isn't going to become full blown yanderes until y/n's boyfriend is gassed by Jerome. y/n doesn't want to deal with the family's bullshit, but she goes to them for help. Revealing Jerome's twin brother, but not explicitly stating that Jeremiah is her boyfriend and begs for them to help in finding a cure. Barbara is the one in the room who is the most shocked by this information.
Spoiler they don't find a cure and when Jeremiah is pushed over the edge, that’s around the time they are too.
I'm cutting it off here. I wrote so much and I might pick this back up. I’ve just been listening to FNAF ambience music while writing this. Have yet to proofread this, so sorry for any and all mistakes.
Part 2
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ghouljams · 18 days
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completely and utterly in love with your proffesor!au. What if there was a big conference and dr.love and ghost were stuck together all weekend. like there hotel rooms are next to each other and love is presenting a paper and she's actually nervous for once so ghost has to reassure her. and then that night at the hotel bar he's all jealous when a guy hits on her and they stumble home together. . . <3 <3 <3
And there was only one hotel... Yeah I love having Ghost be a stalker and a hero for Love. He's insane, he's staking his claim and immediately taking it back. They're both delusional.
It's pure circumstance when conference schedules overlap. Usually it's the sort of thing that only happens with close disciplines, but every once in a while someone writes a paper or a book and it gets picked up by the wrong researchers. This happens to Ghost a lot. It's why he took his book out of print. Everyone is so fascinated by death, the damn thing gets picked up by every wannabe philosopher and pretentious literature student with something to prove to their parents. He hates talking at conferences, doesn't even glance over the guest list when he gets the invitation, just checks the city and whether they're paying for his trip.
He just needs a weekend away from Love and her damn- her damn everything. Ever since the ride home, the baby thing, it's impossible to get her out of his mind. It was hard enough when she was just flirting, but now... Ghost is dying. He can't be around that woman when he's imagining a life he's sure she'd balk at. So he goes to the stupid conference, they're paying him to so he may as well take the free trip and see about finding some tail to get his mind off everything.
He notes the pink suitcase set outside the room next to him when he checks into his little hotel room, and only hopes his neighbor isn't noisy. It's really only when he actually checks in with the conference organizers that he notices the other presenters listed. Love's name sits neatly at the top of a talk on ancient pagan marriage rights. Ghost feels his heart race, his blood running hot at the idea of such close quarters for the weekend. He just has to avoid her for three days.
That turns out to be harder than he would have thought. Not only is the woman sleeping next to him(through a wall), but she seems to pop up everywhere. She's even in the front row of his lecture, listening intently and taking notes. It would have been easier if she was just sitting there, why does she have to be so damn interested in his work? It's worse still seeing her at the hotel bar, laughing and chatting away with other anthropologists. Ghost can't stand it. He settles himself at one end of the bar, nestles himself in the corner with his bourbon and watches her.
How can she have such a glow about her? She's got so much energy, smiling and engaging with the people that seem to flock to her like it's nothing. Even at his best Ghost isn't that sort of people person. Watching Love is like watching an entirely different species. She's stunning, drawing all the light in the room, her fingers tight on the rim of her cocktail, shielding it from- hm. Ghost tips his head, narrows his eyes to watch the way her brows twitch, the insincere smile when the man she's talking to slips his hand over her hip. She laughs at something, glances at the bartender with a distant look, Ghost throws the rest of his bourbon back and pushes off the barstool, tugging his mask up.
It's always when the people she actually wants to talk to have gone to bed that Love wonders if she should have turned in early too. Technically it's the hotel bar, but that doesn't stop random people from enjoying the atmosphere. The same way a conference doesn't fill a hotel. There are plenty of random businessmen and families on vacation, and plenty of people hanging around the bar making her life more stressful. Love cringes inwardly at the hand on her hip, and tries to get the bartenders attention to close out. The wannabe American Psycho makes the mistake of leaning closer when she turns her head, whispering in her ear in a way Love is sure he thinks she'll find charming.
Really the feel of his breath on her neck makes her want to punch him. Personal space would be nice. You push the guy away, out of your bubble, open your mouth to tell him to fuck off when you're stopped. Thick fingers curl under your chin, gentle but firm when they turn your head.
"There you are, love," Ghost hums, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he rubs his thumb over your parted lips. Your eyes widen a little in surprise.
"Simon," you say his name like you're not sure how to finish the sentence. Somewhere between the liquor and the way he looks at you, you're starting to feel very warm.
Simon settles his free hand on the bar between you and the pickup artist, leaning his weight, shifting his broad body between the two of you, forcing room for himself. Your hip is released to avoid being clipped by Simon's presence. You scoot back on your stool and his grip drops from your jaw to your thigh. His thick fingers squeeze your leg, digging into the soft flesh like they belong there. You aren't too proud to admit you wish they did. The warmth of Simon's body radiates off of him, the black cloth over his mouth making his eyes stand out. He's pretty like this, looking at you like he could eat you alive, like he'd do it for the rest of his life.
"Is 'e botherin' you sweet'eart?" He asks, and you bite your teeth into your lip at the line, tamping down your smile. You think Simon was going for that, the way he tips his head and squeezes your thigh a little tighter, there's a smile in his eyes.
"We're a little busy here buddy," your nearly forgotten neighbor chimes in. Simon rolls his shoulders, glances back over his shoulder with a glare.
"Now you're not." Simon tells him.
"Says who?" The guy retorts, attempting to lean around Simon to bring you back into his orbit, "Do you know this guy?" He asks you.
"He's-" You start, and Simon cuts you off.
"Says 'er boyfriend, now piss off," Simon turns his attention back to you, your face frozen in shock, "unless you want me to take care of 'im." You shake your head quickly, trying to find the right expression for when the unwanted guest finally takes Simon's advice.
"Listen man-"
"You startin' to piss me off, you know that?" Simon growls, turning to give the man his full attention. There's a clatter as he scrambles off the stool, now faced with the full height and muscle of your favorite philosophy professor. You hook your fingers into one of Simon's belt loops just to keep him from going anywhere, not too eager to see who would swoop in to take over the now vacant chair if he left.
He raises his arm, glancing under it to spot your hold. Simon wraps his hand around yours, pulling it off his belt and settling it on the bar. He turns back to you, covers your hand with his own to hold it against the lacquered wood.
"Thank you," you smile at him, shooing the heat that rises hopeful in your chest at the fake boyfriend bit. Simon's thumb rubs against your wrist, something impassable in his gaze. You look away, try again to flag down the bartender, "Let me by you a drink."
"It's on me," He tells you quickly, his voice low and shivering over your skin, "I'll close you out and walk you back to your room."
"You don't have to do that," You rush to tell him, you're starting to find Simon is too kind for the airs he puts on, too soft hearted for you to be this stuck on him, "I don't think that guy will come back or try anything."
"I don't 'ave to," Simon agrees, raising two fingers and catching the bartender's attention immediately, "I want to."
"Oh," you say, a little dumbly, smiling to yourself, "ok."
"What're boyfriends for?" Simon's eyes crinkle at the edges as he sets his card on the bar. You laugh a little, enjoying the joke even if it makes your heart squeeze just a bit too tight in your chest. Just a joke, you think, a convenient out to get away from a creep.
Ghost hums, his eyes sliding down over Love's body as she twists to finish her drink. Just for tonight. She can be his just for tonight.
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