#and winslow. what you have been through.

[la-petite-lapin]

Double the Love | Part Two

Double the Love masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x female civilian!OC Word Count: 2.9k Series warnings (may change between chapters): 18+, Minors DNI, angst, mentions of death, mentions of violence, mentions of poor mental health, injury description, eventual explicit sexual content, polyamory, M/M/F, FMC is bad at feelings

They finally meet

One year later...

The message comes out of the blue. The first time I've heard from John Price in a whole month, and it's a fucking text message.

I'm watching TV, curled up in a ball on the sofa next to my best friend and flatmate Winslow "Winnie" Sloane, when my phone pings. I think about ignoring it until I catch a glimpse of his name. It's an unspoken rule between the two of us - we never knowingly ignore one another. Obviously, he can't reply to my messages when he's on ops, but that's different - that's not wilful.

I pick it up without hesitation and take a look.

JOHN PRICE: Tali, I need a favour. It's urgent.

My heart drops.

TALIA KELLER: What's happened? JOHN PRICE: Call me. I'll explain.

So, I do. I tap Winnie on the shoulder and rise up to my feet, shuffling off to my bedroom so I don't disturb her episode of Slow Horses. When I'm safely shut behind my bedroom door, I tap on the call button, dreading what's awaiting me on the other end of the line.

"John?" my voice is full of nerves as the call connects, echoing slightly around the room.

"God am I glad to hear your voice, Tali." He sounds haggard, his own voice tired and hollow. It's not hard to tell that he's fresh off an op. I can already imagine how drained he looks; can picture the dark circles shading his eyes and his scruffy too-long beard.

Sometimes, when I'm feeling particularly brave, I try to talk him into leaving the service. I think about Alex and his death, and I hate that John still knowingly puts himself in harm's way day and night. He's the only serving soldier I know now - I never met any of the other members of their unit - and I desperately wish that he'll retire soon.

"How are you?" he follows up, voice puncturing through my thoughts.

"I'm okay. At home with Winnie. How's Marcella?"

A soft sigh leaves him at the mention of his long-suffering wife. I wonder if he's even had a chance to see her yet. "Last we spoke, she was perfectly fine. Misses you though. You need to come over for dinner soon."

An easy laugh leaves me. Winnie and John aren't the only ones who've been supporting me since Alex died. John's wife Marcie has been there every step of the way too, helping me through rough patches whenever John is away on deployments. And Winnie's never been anything but kind and understanding - it's not in her nature to be anything but.

"Soon," I mumble in agreement. There's a sound on the other end of the line in the background, a murmured snippet of conversation and a drawn-out groan followed by a soft shut up. "Not alone?"

"Got some company," John admits. "Speaking of... does Winslow still have that big trip coming up?"

My palms slick with sweat. Yes. Yes, she does.

Ever since her big promotion six months ago, Winnie's job now involves a lot more travelling than it used to. And - because of that - in three days' time, she'll be in France, starting a month-long assignment helping a struggling marketing firm in Paris.

And I'll be alone.

It doesn't bother me as much as it used to, but I've always had this thing about being alone. It's part of the reason why I live with Winnie; why I've been seeing a therapist since I was sixteen; why I struggle to have normalcy. My current therapist thinks that it's a form of abandonment issues from being orphaned at a young age, which has led to my inability to maintain stable relationships. The therapist before that thought it was something completely different; that I seek to form attachments but wilfully don't, self-sabotaging and creating my own permanent sense of loneliness. But, my point is, I don't react anywhere near as badly to it as I did when I was a kid.

I still remember when I was fifteen and Alex left for his first deployment. I was still living with our maternal grandmother at the time, and I completely shut down. I holed up in my room for almost a whole month, refusing to speak and barely eating or sleeping. I could hardly function for worrying about him...

"Tali?"

I snap out of it. "Sorry. Yes."

"Could you... could I possibly bring some of my guys to your apartment? Just while Winslow is away. Our safehouse in the area has been taken out of action and we need somewhere to lay low for a little while."

My guys. The unit.

"What about your place?" My brow furrows. Surely Marcella wouldn't mind a few guests. She's calm and motherly and takes great pride in hosting. I'm sure she'd be in the element with them.

John clears his throat awkwardly. "Not an option. They don't know."

Ah. The brave, almighty Captain John Price still hasn't told his team that he's married. Typical.

I roll my eyes. "Okay. I hope you know that we're coming back to that later." A beat of silence passes. "How many people are we talking, John? Because it's a two-bedroom flat in London. It's spacious but it's hardly the Tardis."

He snorts out a dry laugh. "Only two. One of the lads is local so he's got family around here he can stay with. And there's some stuff I've got to get done, so I'll be hopping from base to base."

"Where are they going to sleep? Are they going to mind sharing a bed? Because the sofa is comfortable, but I know how you army guys are built..."

There's an awkward silence on Price's end as I hear him shifting around. It takes me a second to realise that he's covering his mouth against his phone's microphone. "Yeah... that's, um- that won't be an issue for them."

Oh.

Oh.

"Okay. Cool. I'll take them."

I wince. Why the fuck did I say cool? Of all the ways that I could respond and I choose that. Way to go, Tali.

"Are you sure that you're okay with this, Tali?" Price asks, his voice soft and encouraging. "If you aren’t, we can find something else-"

"Price, I'll take them in. Winnie leaves on Tuesday morning, so just have them swing by around then, okay?"

Favour asked and questions answered, we say our goodbyes and hang up. It takes me a second to gather my thoughts before padding back into the living room. The moment I step through the hallway, Winslow pauses the TV, angling her head up to look at me. A cloud of black curly hair frames her beautiful face, dark eyes wide and expectant. "Is John back home?"

I wince, getting ready to launch into an explanation. "Not quite."

Tuesday morning rolls around all too soon. By 9 a.m. I'm sitting cross-legged on the foot of Winnie's bed as she packs up her stuff. I can't help but feel a pang of anxiety strike deep in my chest.

"Are you sure that you're gonna be okay?" Winnie asks, almost like she can read my mind.

I meet her dark, knowing gaze and offer her a smile. "Winnie, I'll be fine. You don't need to worry about me. If I need anything, I can call Marcella."

She smiles, running a hand through her freshly braided hair. The pearls attached to some strands clink together softly. "Okay. Good. But you've got to call me once a week at least, okay?" Before I can reassure her that I will, she adds, "And you've got to text me every day."

"Winslow, I will. Stop stressing, please."

A moment of easy silence passes before the laughter starts. Both of us crack up, her eyes finding mine and holding my gaze.

Once we've both calmed down, I take a closer look at her cases. She's packing almost everything she owns. It's a sight that worries me, so I look away, deciding to look out of the window instead.

A loud, firm knock on the front door saves me just as Winnie is packing up her last suitcase. We exchange a look before I'm up on my feet, scrambling to answer it. I can't lie, I'm curious to meet John's friends. But I'm also sad. Because there's a strong possibility that they knew Alex too. That they were with him when he died.

When I open the door, there's two men standing in the hallway, just like John said there would be. The first has short brown hair styled into a mohawk, the sides cropped close to his scalp but the top and back left longer. He's broad-chested, muscular too; built like a grizzly bear. And, even though his complexion has a slightly pallid hue under the overhead lights, it's not hard to imagine that he's usually quite tan.

And then there's his friend. Standing next to the grizzly bear and at least half-a-foot taller than him, he has the expression of a man who wants to break me apart with his bare hands just to see what's inside. I fight to meet his intense gaze, taking catalogue of the features visible under the dark hood of his black sweatshirt. His eyes are hazel - I think - skin tanned from what I'd assume are long hours spent out in the sun, and I can't quite make out his hair colour. He's equally if not more muscular than his friendlier-looking counterpart. My eyes trail down to his mouth, drawn to the scar bisecting his bottom lip. It doesn't draw away from his attractiveness though; just adds to the sense of rugged charm that I'm getting from him.

Not that it should matter. It doesn't. They're here because they need help; not because they want to be ogled by a complete stranger.

"Are you John's friends?" I ask stupidly, as if they could be anyone else.

The grizzly bear nods. "Aye. And you are?"

Scottish. Nice. I've always loved the accent, but his is even better. There's a humour there; something uniquely his. It makes me want to keep him talking just so I can hear it more.

"Tali." I step back so that they can come inside. They hesitate for a second before following me into the living room, the tall, silent one closing the door behind him with a soft click. "Also John's friend."

The grizzly bear plops straight down onto the couch, stretching out with no hesitation and making himself at home. His arms drape over the backrest, a lazy grin forming on his lips as he watches me take a seat on my armchair. The tall one gives him a reprimanding look, hovering beside the window behind him. His light eyes are always alert; darting around the room like something's going to jump out at any second.

"You army?" he asks, expression wary. His voice is all gravel with a Manchester accent.

I offer him a small smile. "Nope." I don't think anyone could mistake me for a soldier. I'm small - short and slender - and skittish at the best of times. "So... what should I call you?"

Hazel eyes narrow at me. "Ghost."

The grizzly bear rolls his eyes dramatically, offering me a wide, disarming grin. It's blatantly obvious that he's overcompensating for him. "Callsign is Soap, but a pretty lass like you can call me Johnny."

My heart flutters.

It takes a second to remember what John had said on the phone. Sharing a bed won't be an issue for them. The awkward, implying tone he'd said it in. In other words, neither of them are meant for me.

Ghost eases away from the window to stand just behind the sofa, drawing closer to Johnny. Johnny, on the other hand, moves so that he's leaning forward, elbows braced on his knees as he cocks his head at me. "A friend of Captain Price, are ye?"

I nod softly. "Yes."

"Funny that," Ghost barks, tilting his head to one side. "He's never mentioned you." Thinly veiled suspicion drifts off of him in waves, and it makes me feel endlessly uncomfortable. His harsh gaze melts through my skin and bones, boring deep into my soul.

I shift in my seat. "He never mentioned either of you to me, so I don't think that counts for much."

Johnny lets out a loud laugh. "I think I'm gonna like ye, Tali. Not many people talk back to 'im."

It's in that moment - as I'm silently praying for the floor to open up and swallow me whole - that Winnie steps out of her room, suitcases in tow. She walks into the living room, depositing them by the front door before coming over to introduce herself, a sceptical look on her face.

She levels Ghost with an icy glare, not looking away from him as she asks me, "Everything all okay here, Tali?"

"Yeah, it's alright Winnie." I gesture to each of John's friends in turn. "Winnie, this is Johnny." He raises his hand and waves, still grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "And that is Ghost." I point to looming, ominous figure behind him.

"Ghost?" she repeats slowly. I nod. "Okay, well I'm leaving now. Tali, I love you and I'll miss you. Remember to call me." She bends at the waist to hug me, wrapping me up in her warm, vanilla-scented embrace. As she straightens, she glares at each of the men in turn. "And you two - don't give her any shit. If I find out you've made her feel uncomfortable even once, not even John will be able to save you. Got it?"

Johnny stares up at my friend, mystified. His blue eyes are bright as he nods. "Don't worry. We won't be any trouble."

Winnie turns back to face me. "Right, I've got to go or I'll miss my ride to the airport. I'll be back before you even know I'm gone, okay?"

"I know," I say, my voice soft. "I love you. Be safe and text me when you land."

With a nod, Winnie presses a gentle kiss to the top of my head then gets her last few bits together. And then she leaves. Leaving me alone with two complete strangers. Yay.

"So," I grumble, struggling against the urge to shy away from their intense gazes in the safety of my room, "do you want to see where you'll be staying?"

Later that night, the three of us gather in the living room to watch TV.

The guys didn't have much to unpack. They travelled light so I'm going to have to go shopping sometime soon to buy them some essentials; more clothes and toiletries. Definitely food too. If dinner tonight was any indication, they eat a lot.

I'm curled up in my armchair again, watching something that Johnny chose on Netflix. Every once and a while, I glance across at them. Ghost is sitting upright, legs stretched out in front of him. His legs are so long that his feet are tucked under the coffee table. And then there's Johnny. He's laying on his side on the sofa, his head resting on Ghost's muscular thighs. Every now and then, Ghost's hand runs down the length of Johnny's side, stroking him in soothing, rhythmic motions.

Looking at them, I can't help but feel a sense of longing. Jealousy that they're together and obviously quite happy. That they're comfortable enough around one another for these subconscious displays of affection.

I'll never have that. It's something that I've come to accept. I'm twenty-five now and I've never had a serious relationship. I don't even think I want one. For a period of time in my late teens, I thought that I might be aro-ace, but over time I've gathered that I do feel romantic and sexual attraction. It's just different.

The sad truth is that I don't trust anyone enough to believe that they'd stay with me. Love me. Make me feel safe enough for displays of casual affection. There would always be that looming sense of dread that they'd leave me sooner or later.

In my head, I've justified it. If I don't get into relationships, no one can leave me. Alex's death all but solidified that for me.

The rom-com Johnny picked out gets to a comedic scene - a naked beach fight - and he starts to chuckle. I join him and I swear even Ghost lets out a little snort. We're all laughing until...

"Fuck. Johnny, you're bleeding."

My heart crawls up into my throat. My eyes snap across to them, blatantly looking now. The white t-shirt Johnny is wearing is plastered to his side, a red patch seeping through the fabric, spreading across his ribs.

He sits upright, holding it with one large hand. "Ah fuck. Didn't get any on the sofa, did ah'?"

"Fuck the sofa," I splutter out in a panic. "Are you okay? Why are you bleeding? Should I call an ambulance?"

Johnny looks back at me with a quizzical expression while Ghost just sighs, standing up. He walks towards the bedrooms at an unhurried pace, stopping along the way to press a chaste kiss to Johnny's forehead, placing a loving hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, darling, I'll get the bag." Hazel eyes swing towards me, where I'm still panicking in my armchair. "His dressing just needs changing, and I'll check his stitches. He's fine, love."

I ease back into my seat, heat rushing to my cheeks. "Oh."

Ghost leaves the room, heading into my bedroom to get the aforementioned bag. I've decided to give them my room for the duration of their stay because it has an en-suite. It eliminates the risk of me accidentally stumbling in on them in the shared bathroom that doesn't have a working lock. Overall, it's safer for everyone that I'm staying in Winnie's room.

Feeling more than a little foolish for my outburst, I offer Johnny a weak smile. "I'm going to go to bed now. Goodnight, Johnny."

"Ye sure?" he asks, blue eyes tinted with a hint of... something. Maybe disappointment? I don't know. "The movie isn't over yet. You seemed like ye were enjoying it." His brow furrows. "We could watch something else."

"I'm sure. It's fine; I'm just tired. We can watch another movie tomorrow night if you want."

His eyes light up at that. "Yeah, sounds perfect."

I'm back in Winnie's room by the time Ghost leaves mine. I can hear his footsteps padding down the hallway. Hear their muffled conversation and muted laughter.

As I fall asleep, I can't help but feel a different kind of loneliness. And, as I drift off, my heart aches for what Ghost and Johnny have.

a/n: guess who's back! so Tali has finally met the boys :) sorry if this part is a little short, just wanted to get something out in time for christmas for you guys - merry christmas and take care of yourselves, lapetitelapin

#cod #fanfic #ghoap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #simon “ghost” riley x reader #soap x reader #callofduty #cod fanfic #cod x reader #ghost x reader #female reader #romance #angst #poly #johnny mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny x reader x simon #double the love

[crazyk-imagine]

Life Away from Home

Pairing: Dalton Lamber x Best friend!reader

Characters: Dalton Lamber, Best Friend!reader, Chris Winslow, Josh Lambert, Renai Lambert

Warnings: Fluff, angst due to demons, add on to the movie, reader and Dalton being cute, I've literally only seen this movie once and it's consumed me too much and I had to write this, the day I watched it, this idea came to mind, the possessed Dalton scene is what got me hooked on writing this, Josh and Renai are trying to make it work maybe not in a romantic way or maybe they are

Word Count: 4,294

A/N: Holy shit, I was not expecting this to be over 4,000 words.

I'm getting ready for spooky season

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Jesus, Dalton. When did you get so much shit?" You ask, setting down another box beside the one his dad set down on his bed.

"When did you complain so much?"

You narrow your eyes to him before your lips stretch into a smile as he does the same. "Touche."

Josh glances between the two of you, seeing him and Renai when they first met.

"I'm gonna leave you two alone before our first week of hell starts."

Dalton tries to stop you and fails.

You're barely out of the room for five minutes when you get a phone call from him. "What happened?"

"The usual."

A heavy sigh slips past your lips, "Dally."

He shakes his head. “Can you just- can you come back up here?”

“I’m on my way, loser.”

“That was uncalled for.”

“But it got you to crack a smile.” He denies it with the widest smile on his face before hanging up.

“Is that you’re girlfriend?” He turns to face his soon to be ex-roommate, Chris. “No.”

She shrugs. “Maybe this is the year you do something about your crush.”

-

It was an okay start to this new part of your guy's life. Meeting Chris made things more fun, although Dalton would definitely disagree.

Ever since the school year started (two days ago) and Chris told you her schedule, you two hang out in her dorm for a bit while you wait for Dalton to finish up with his art class.

She likes you and definitely understands why he likes you so much.

Her little dance stops when knocking from the other side interrupts her and startles you.

Ever since you got here, things have been getting weird for Dalton which, as much as you don’t want to admit it, it scares you.

She opens the door, peeking through the crack to find the one person that makes your eyes shine. She smiles at you with the mouthpiece to her most prized possession (and the name is something you will never remember). "See? It's just your Dally man."

You narrow your eyes to her. "Shut up."

He glances between the two of you before taking a seat near you.

"Are you ready for my latest rendition of "don't go breaking my heart" with my trusty little sidekick?"

You roll your eyes and lean closer to him, "say no."

He shakes his head.

You smile and lean closer to him, bringing him some comfort after the night he's had. You know he won’t talk about it; you asked him after the first night but knowing he’s just going to keep it to himself until he can’t any longer, the least you can do is make him smile… and hold him.

-

Everything started spiraling worse after going to that stupid frat party.

You knew he didn’t want to go to it and that’s why you tried to get Chris to change her mind but there’s no stopping that girl when she’s on a mission.

“What if we just-”

She shakes her head, “no.”

You fall back onto Dalton’s bed, turning to face him as he works at his desk. “I tried. I’m sorry.” You don’t think he heard you, but you return your attention to Chris as babbles on about how the party is just what we need.

-

And it only spiraled into something worse and worse from there.

He hasn’t stopped working on that painting. Every time he returns to his room, there he is in that chair, paintbrush in hand.

“Dalton?” You call out to him.

His body is slumped, you don’t know how long it was that he stopped working on his art, but it couldn’t have been more than five minutes ago.

“Dally?” You push yourself off the bed and are about to place a hand on his shoulder, thinking if you gently shake him, it’ll wake him but a voice in the back of your head tells you not to. You pace back and forth behind him, “Okay, Dalton. One this is not funny. And two, I need you to wake up.”  

You lift your hand up, biting the skin on the sides of your thumbs (something you haven’t done since you were a kid).

It’s too late for you to call Chris, it’s been dark for hours, but you can’t sleep knowing Dalton can’t sleep because the guilt of knowing you can sleep and he can’t, well, it'll make you feel like an asshole. And if he can’t sleep, then you shouldn’t.

But he tells you to and not to worry about him, which makes it really hard because how can you not worry about him.

You open your eyes and are startled as the door to his dorm shuts. “Dalton?”

He pushes himself out of the chair, shaking you. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay? What the hell happened to you? You freaked me out. You were asleep one second and then-”

“I was up in Chris’ dorm.”

You blink once. “Huh?”

“I was- I just- I don’t know how to explain it.”

“I do. You’re on some sort of drug right now and you need to tell me where your stash is so I can either join you or flush them.”

“What?” He furrows his brows, “I’m not on- I don’t even know what’s going on. I just- all I know is that-“

A knock on the door causes you to leap into his arms.

You two take a step towards the door with his arm around your waist, keeping you close to him.

“I just woke up because of this,” Chris lifts up her favorite annoying thing.

You start to tear up but don’t know why. “I- oh my god.” You wipe your cheeks as the two talk.

They glance over at you, wondering if you were paying attention. They’re both alarmed at the sight of you crying.

You wave them off. “I’m fine.”

That was just the beginning of something bad coming your way.

-

You and Chris text each other periodically throughout the next few days, mainly her checking on you and you asking her what she’d found out regarding Dalton’s “condition”.

From her end, he needs sleep to which you completely agree with, but you also need to take care of yourself.

She doesn’t want anything to happen to you, you’re good for him and an amazing friend which is why it was exceedingly scary with you lying in front of her, looking as though you were dead.

She still doesn’t even know what happened even though she knows it has something to do with the spiritual world Dalton’s got himself mixed up in.

Before returning to his body, he sees the demon that's been haunting him for a little less than half his life (even if he doesn’t remember it now) hovering over your body.

You don’t know what happened during that time but you the only colors that come to mind whenever you think of it are red and black (something you’ve never told Dalton).

You moved into his dorm basically permanent after that night, followed by almost hourly texts from a certain upstairs dorm neighbor.

-

It’s been getting harder and harder to get Dalton to sleep when you can’t even do it yourself.

He sits at his desk and continues working on the painting that seems to be haunting him, something that makes you wish you could you more helpful to him but are unable to.

With everything that’s going on your kind of happy about the few classes you chose to take this year because napping throughout the day isn’t the most ideal thing for a normal college student, but it’s the only way you can keep up with Dalton. “You tired yet?”

“You asked me five minutes ago,” he mumbles, not fully taking his eyes off the painting.

“Fine. New question, have you talked to your mom or dad yet?”

“Why would I talk to them?”

“Uh, I don’t know because you’re going through astral projection moments without any proper or well-known guidance. Oh, and also your friend almost died because of some black and red thing.”

He pauses, his hand stills before he hurriedly tosses the paint brush onto the desk. “You saw it?”

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” you sigh.

“You are.”

“Maybe you’re just annoying.”

“I’m annoyed with a purpose. What- I mean, did you-”

“No, I just,” you throw the hood of his hoodie over your head.

“I think… maybe it’s from when you were in your coma.”

“Did you remember something?” He leans in closer.

“I just,” you glance up at him. “I feel like you should talk to your mom.”

He takes a deep breath. “No and you’re not going to win so just stop and leave it alone.”

Worst thing you could have ever done, listen to him.

You didn’t want to; you know, know you should have called her and asked her what she knows about this, but he kept assuring you that he’s got this and would ask his brother for information and that could only do so much.

Chris texted you earlier, asking if you could help her with one of her classes because you both have the same teacher, but you have the morning class, and she has the afternoon.

You decided that if he didn’t want help, he wasn’t going to get it.

The- “whole tough love routine, really?”

You furrow your brows, feeling offended and self conscious. “What?”

“Don’t what me. When has that routine ever helped someone?” She shrugs, “no, seriously. Tell me.”

You mimic her and return back to helping her study with the midterm getting closer and closer (Chris’ words, not yours).

“She finally gets it,” you say, happy to know you could help her where you could.

“Do you think he’s okay?”

She nods, stuffing her notebook back into her bag. “Yeah, why wouldn’t he?”

You bit the skin on the sides of your thumb, “I have a bad feeling.”

She glances back at you. “How bad?”

“I’m slowly getting more nauseous the longer I sit here.”

“Are you sure? I mean, what if you just-”

“Chris.”

She sighs, “fine. I’ll go check on your boyfriend and when I come back, telling you he’s doing just fine.”

The door slams open as she searches for something, mumbling to herself. After a few minutes, she’s found what she was looking for and turns around. She stares at you, her arms full of various lights in different shapes and sizes. "Are you coming with me or not?"

You grimace. This is too much for either of you to handle on your own. "Chris,” you hold her arm in place, “I have a bad feeling about this."

She nods; she gets it, but she also knows neither of you can leave him alone. "So do I but we can't leave him alone."

You hesitate.

“You can’t leave him alone.”

You nod, gulping down the saliva that built up in your mouth. "Okay."

You two practically run to Dalton's room.

You stand in the doorway and know something's not right but follow Chris, not feeling comfortable leaving her alone in here. You two sit on his bed, you work on untangling the lights while she tries to get them on.

She plugs it in once, you’re not as nauseous but are feeling more fear.

Another light is plugged in, and you pull your feet up from the floor. A third one and it’s suddenly colder?

"I'm not afraid of the dark anymore."

You furrow your brows, pausing your movements. "What?" A chill runs down your spine. "Chris, are you done yet?" You gulp and hurry to help Chris, knowing the dark is a bad place to be in, especially now.

She runs around the room, putting the lights in place leaving you to plug them in, wanting to light up the room. Her feet padding across the floor worry you. "Almost." She shouts, "yes!" Her side is lit.

You barely glance over at him and know what's wrong, it makes you even more nauseous; you can almost feel the bile creeping up your throat.

It feels like it’s here, the pressure tightens on your throat.

"Dalton?" She calls out for him, watching his body move as he stands in the corner.

"Chris, don't get near him." You pull her back when his head turns towards you. "It's here." You begin blinking away the tears that blur your vision.

"No," she refuses to believe it. "Dalton? What's going on there? This isn't normal. It's really weird seeing you in the dark."

You want to cry. "Stop talking."

It flings her to the side.

"Oh god," you whimper.

It turns its attention onto you as his body lets out a low growl.

"Chris, run."

She says the same to you when she sees how close Dalton's body has gotten to you.

You turn back to him and focus on his hands wrapping a piece of rope around his hands. "Where did that come from?" Tonight’s the night you're going to die. You shake your head and run towards the door. You shake to doorknob as tears fall down your cheeks. "Let me out. Let me out."

He gains control, the rope falls from his hands as he calls out for you.

You turn around and see the real him before he loses control.

You and Chris catch him before he can fall.

“You hold him and anchor him while I work on the lights.”

You can’t object as she’s already run off.

She screams as a face appears in front of her, emerging out from the depths of the darkness under the bed.

You pull her back. “Get behind me.”

She doesn’t have enough time to argue and does as she’s told.

You're stuck between the two, holding Dalton and keeping him close to you as she huddles further into you, all while fighting the spirits crawling on top of him and you.

He opens his eyes and wakes from his internal battle, the light squeeze to your hand lets you know he's here. He's with you as he forces the spirits to disappear.

You help him up, knowing he's trying to move.

Dalton starts painting with as much paint as he can with his one paintbrush.

The canvas is black.

"Is it over?" She dares to ask.

You tear up, covering your mouth to hide the sobs that want to escape you.

He turns around, barely giving himself a second to take in everything that's happened as he pulls you closer to him.

“I need to call my mom,” he grabs the phone and immediately dials his mom.

“Is everyone okay?” Chris asks, knowing you can’t mutter a word right now and how close you are because you two pretty much call the Lambert's your family.

“Yeah, he’s- he’s okay. He’s back.”

“He wasn’t before?”

You lift your head off him. “He stayed behind?”

He nods. “But he’s back now and it’s gone.”

You gulp, staring into his eyes; silently thanking all and any god that they’re not yellow.

You didn’t realize you’re crying until he wipes your cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head and sniffle; he pulls you closer to hug you; needing to feel your comforting warmth… plus Chris. “Please tell me it’s over.”

“It’s done,” Dalton informs the two of you with a stern voice.

"You’re never going to do that again. I can't lose you."

He nuzzles his nose into your head, breathing in your scent.

“I think it’s time we go home for our early semester break.”

“I,” he hesitates, “I think that’s a good idea.”

-

After saying bye to Chris and promising to text when you two actually leave campus and when we make it to the Lambert household, you finally make it to his dad’s car.

Josh smiles at the sight of you two. “Hey.”

Dalton glances away, finding making eye contact with the man to be too much. “Hey.”

His dad turns to you, “hey.”

“Hi,” you give him a small smile. “Let’s put the stuff in the car and get this long ass drive over with?”

That earns a chuckle and breaks the silence between the two.

You’re about to walk towards the back of the car when he stops in front of you. “What?”

“I can put your stuff in the back.”

You huff, “Dalton. No, just let-”

“Me put it away, you get settled into the car. I’ll be there in a second.”

You roll your eyes, “fine. I’ll just get started on the second season of-”

“Don’t you dare.”

You open the car door with a small smile on your face.

-

Josh turns to his son, not yet opening the trunk so you can’t hear their conversation (he hopes). “So?”

“What?”

His dad smiles and uses his head to gesture in your general direction. “Have you asked her?”

The look on his son’s face tells him all that he needs to know (and embarrass him). “Are you two together? Going steady? Netflix and chilling as you young kids call it.” He lightly pats the side of his arm, “come on, you can tell me… so I can tell your mother.”

The young man avoids all eye contact and stares at the ground, the warmth in his cheeks is not something he wanted to experience now, before they even leave campus. “No, I- with everything that happened, I didn’t want it to seem like I’m just asking her out to do it. You know, I- I want it to mean something.”

The corner of Josh’s mouth twitches, reminding him of his young self. “I know exactly what you mean and that’s why I know if you do it, she won’t think of it that way.”

Dalton slowly lifts his head. “How do you know that?”

“She’s been by your side ever since the first time. No, even longer than that but especially during these times and if you don’t believe me then, you don’t know why you invited her to come with you.”

“What?”

“Put the bags in the trunk,” Josh tells him as he opens it. He sees the way his son stares at you, he did the same thing with his ex-wife. He just wishes he was as strong as the two of you and knows if he was, then maybe he and Renai would still be together.

He takes a deep breath. ‘This is what Dr. Rofuss was talking about.’ “You can sit in the back if you want, I won’t be offended.”

“She’ll make me sit there if I don’t on my own.”

His dad chuckles as he closes the trunk. “Alright then, make your choice, stud.”

“Stud?” He mutters as he walks around the car.

You shake your head and point to the front seat.

Josh silently laughs to himself when he watches the two of you two. “Show tunes?”

You give the older man a gentle smile. “Sure.”

-

Renai walks out and hugs her baby boy- he groans, “mom.”

“You’ll always be my baby no matter what age you are.”

You cover your mouth to hide your amusement.

Josh leans down and whispers, “you’re next.”

You quickly recover and shake your head. “No.”

He starts taking your guys bags into the house.

She stares at him for a few seconds before letting him go, turning to face you. She pulls you in for a hug. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

She doesn’t answer you.

-

You walk into the house, waiting to find one or both of his siblings but find neither. “Is it just us plus your parents right now?”

He shrugs, “I guess.”

“Which room am I staying in?”

He turns around and stares at you with a confused expression. “What do you mean?”

“We’re at your parents' house and I don’t think they’d approve of us, a young man and a young woman sleeping in the same room.”

“We did it at school, what’s different now?”

“We’re under the same roof.”

He grabs the bags at the end of the stairs and starts walking up. “It’s fine.”

You follow him. “I don’t want your mom to think I’m a bad influence on you or something.”

“She won’t, stop worrying about it.”

“Dal-”

He drops the bags and pulls you closer, cupping your cheeks. “Stop it, she would never think that. If anything,” the corner of his lips twitch. “She’d think it was me.”

You stare into his eyes, no thoughts coming to mind.

He’s waiting for you to respond but you don’t, and he doesn’t know what to do.

The creaking of the bottom stairs startles you and you pull away. “I’m going to the kitchen.”

His dad raises a brow when he finds his oldest staring at the floor with rosy, red cheeks.

-

Dinner was a little awkward at first, but you managed to make it through without raising too much suspicion from Josh and Renai (or at least, you hope that’s the case).

You run upstairs after helping his mom with the dishes (Dalton, sat at the table drawing).

-

She nudges your side, “you can go upstairs and get ready for bed. I’m sure you’ll want to get as much sleep as you can.”

You shrug, “it’s okay. I can st-”

“Nope, upstairs you go.”

“But-”

“Go,” she says, offering a kind smile.

You grab the dish towel and dry off your hands before glancing over at him, suddenly remembering the way he was staring at you, and exit.

-

You walk back out of the bathroom to grab your toothbrush so you can relax in bed, only to find someone else also brushing his teeth. “Uh- sorry- I’ll just-”

He shakes his head and spits. “It’s fine. I’m almost done.”

You know how when you’re trying to avoid making eye contact with someone and it doesn’t work?

He finishes and puts his toothbrush in its holder before walking away, only to lean against the doorway. “What’s going on with you?”

You shake your head.

“Ever since earlier-”

You finish in time to cover his mouth. “Shut up. I don’t want your parents finding out.”

He lowers your hand. “Why? It’s not like we had sex or anything.”

You avoid making eye contact, the heat in your cheeks does nothing to help you as you walk into his room. “I think I should sleep in the guest room.”

“Wait, what? Why?” He stands in front of you, stopping you from walking out. “Wh- did it,” he takes a deep breath. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

You clench your jaw, unsure of how to tell him the true reason. “I-”

“If it did, I’m sorry.”

“That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?” He studies your fidgeting. “Did you,” the corner of his lips curved upwards. “Did you like it?”

“No.”

“You answered that too quickly. You did.” He chuckles, taking a step forward. “You can tell me to stop.”

You open your mouth to respond when he cups your cheeks and pulls you closer.

“I’ve missed you.”

You furrow your brows. “I didn’t leave?”

“Ever since the whole thing happened, I just- I’m happy you’re here with me.”

You glance from one eye to the other and slide your hands up to his neck, pulling him closer, into a crushingly comforting hug.

His arms wrapped around your shoulders and waist, his grip tightening ever so slightly.

You play with his hair as you two stand a few feet from the open doorway.

He removes his arms from you, and you think he’s done and start to loosen your grip on him until you hold onto him for dear life. “What are you doing?!” You ask, tightening your legs around his waist.

He doesn’t reply as he sets you down on his bed.

You get the hint and lay down, opening your arms (a spot reserved for him). You play with his hair some more. “Are you ever going to get a haircut?”

“Why?” He angles his head so he can look at you.

“Do you not like it?”

“I didn’t say that. I do, I was just wondering.” His eyes twinkle and he can’t find it in him to look away. “Can I kiss you?”

“Huh?”

“Can… I kiss you?”

You stare at him with a confused expression as your brain works on processing what he’s asked. “You want to kiss me… like as a friend?”

“What friend kisses another friend?”

“You know how some families or- or like celebrities kiss each other on the lips and it's not romantic, that’s- that’s what I’m thinking of.”

He leans on one elbow, hovering over you as his hand pushes the few stands of your hair behind your ear. “I definitely don’t mean it in a friendly way.”

“Really?”

He nods. “Chris thought we were together.”

“When did she say that?”

“Our first day.”

“Oh.”

“I hated that I had to say no.”

You take a leap and hope that he wasn’t playing a mean, mean joke on you.

-

Renai and Josh have been up since earlier this morning, seeing as it almost- “Josh, it’s almost ten o’clock. I think we should go at least check on them.” She raises her shoulder, keeping her phone tucked in the crook of her neck as she prepares her cup of coffee.

“They’re enjoying their first break; they’re not going to be awake right now.”

“Yeah well… they should be otherwise they’re not going to get breakfast.”

“Wow.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

-

The door slowly creaks open as she peeks her head in only to find the two of you still asleep, cuddling in a “less than friendly” way.

She shakes her head, knowing her ex-husband's right.

#insidious #insidious x reader #insidious the red door #insidious imagine #insidious imagines #insidious fanfic #insidious fanfiction #insidious x you #dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert #dalton lambert imagine #dalton lambert imagines #dalton lambert fanfic #dalton lambert fanfiction #dalton lambert x you #dalton lambert x fem!reader #dalton lambert x female reader

[randomgurl2326]

Talk About It

A/N: I am currently writing this in my geometry class and listening to Kick Me by Sleeping With Sirens and I feel actually alive right now…

Also this will have nothing to do with the plot of the show whatsoever

The hum of the teachers voices travels through the abandoned boiler room through the deafening silence; the two just sitting there, saying nothing but thinking everything.

“So… we’re just not going to talk about it,” the sound of Arthur’s voice practically booms in their ears. The Spindell boy looks to his right to look in their eyes, but only to see them looking down.

“Uh, no. No, no, no, no… and definitely no. We are not going to talk about it, maybe never, okay, Arthur? Just… no,” the h/c haired person rambles quickly. They quickly look over to the boy with the glasses, observing his body language.

Spoon lols back at y/n, catching each others eye. “So we’re definitely not going to talk about that intense kiss that just happened with my best friend that I thoroughly enjoyed? Yeah, well, not gonna happen.”

“I’m going to be subjected to this torture, okay? We may have kissed but that doesn’t mean…” the h/c said, trailing off at the end. They start again, more umph in their voice, “Th-that doesn’t mean they we,” they point in between themselves, “like each other, right? Am I right? O-or does it? I don’t really know, so maybe I should like go, right? That’s the best option here isn’t it?”

As they start to get up they Spindell boy grabs their hand and pulls them back down. Spoon started pacing around the room and pointed right at them, “You’re going to listen, and you’re going to listen good, okay? We’ve known each other for actually ever, we’ve shared every little experience together if we liked it or not. We are best friends.

And, you wanna know what; I’ve liked you since you kicked Wendy Callaghan’s ass in third grade after she threw my glasses in the sand box, the first time I wanted to kiss you? Eighth grade at that dance after Carey Stanten rejected you, and called you a fucking dyke, okay?

We’ve stood by each other through it all, and I’ve thought I’ve almost lost you several times to fucking dicks that didn’t deserve your fucking space, so yeah, that kiss did mean something. At least to me.”

y/n started shaking there head with tears in their eyes, looking directly at the panting boy, voice trembling, “I’ve liked you since fourth grade when we went to that stupid zoo when you were in awe of those fucking koala bears.

But, you said it yourself, we’ve been through every experience together. Y- mmm you know that I’m fucked up. But, that also doesn’t stop me from fucking loving you of every damn minute, every hour, of every day. I’ve been scared and I haven’t been fair to you, and I haven’t been fair to me.

I want to be happy with you, for you. And I thought if I told you, you’d leave but I know you wouldn’t do that, it was always in the back of my mind. But wh-why would y-“

“Shit up,” Arthur says as he pulls y/n back in for another kiss, resting his forehead on their’s with his eyes closed and his head nodding side to side, “you know I wouldn’t leave you for that, you know I wouldn’t leave you…”

He starts laughing a little and says, “by the way I love you too.”

They h/c person starts laughing and pushes him back, looking him in his eyes, “fuck off, bitch. I still have pictures of you from back in fifth grade.”

A/N: that was my first time writing for Arthur ‘Spoon’ Spindell and I feel pretty proud of it. As always, my little chalupas, feel free to ask if you want to be added to any of my taglists, want me to write for a character, or just want to talk. Also, I have and Ema Winslow WIP and a Hannah/Shira one as well. I love you all.

—Abigale

#harlan cobens shelter #mickey bolitar #Shira/Hannah #Arthur Spindell #spoon spindell #x reader #Spoon Spindell x reader #ema winslow #Ema Winslow x reader #queer #Arthur Spindell x reader #bisexual #pansexual #nonbinary #supernatural #supernatural x reader #good omens season one #good omens season 2 #crowley #aziraphale #Crowley and aziraphale coded #Mickey Bolitar x reader #poems and poetry #poetry #person vs society #lovers #gay love #freddie mercury #queen band #love poetry

[flugmunk]

-[DESCRIPTION: Swan and winslow standing together as swan holds a pack of papers in his hands, motioning towards it. "yeah so... contract time." he leans in to whisper his continuing words to winslow, who simply looks given up, "dont let the girthiness fool ya. you only REALLY need to look at like 2 pages. maximum." Winslow takes a moment to flip through the contract, skimming over it as swan keeps talking. "and besides... what choice do you have?" as he speaks, he pulls out a pen. and then the next second he jabs the point of it against winslows finger, piercing enough for blood to show. With the pen now supplied with the more fancy version of an ink, swan bats his eyelashes closed and holds it out for winslow to take. "now sign." he waits a bit, and then peeks out what is taking so long. In that winslow was just staring at his finger, dribbling blood down, and his eye grows wide and wet. a sniffle, then an "OWIEEEEeeee..."]- (October 18, 2023)

honestly throughout the movie, this man has slowly been evolving into a pincushion

#phantom of the paradise

[melloween-candie]

Teen pregnancy [P.3]

A Carl Gallagher x Fem Reader fic

Summary

You only started dating Carl for about 2 months. That was right around the time when he and Dom broke up. Deep down, you knew you couldn't compete with her. He would always choose her before you. Yet you were only 16 years old when you discovered he got you pregnant. This news terrified you so much. You didn't want to lose him, and you knew he was already going through so much shit stuff with his family and his "business." Better yet, you were scared about how your family would react, let alone his. At least you have Debbie, your best friend, who's also pregnant with you.

Warning! Small spoilers, Cussing, Fake friend, Mention of cheating, Verbal abuse, Mention of bullying, Manipulation, Small mention of alcohol, Slight mention of isolation, Paranoia, Lying

Note! If any of that makes you uncomfortable- DON'T READ THE STORY!

Word count: 854

[Angst/Fluff]

Part 1, Part 2, PART 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10 (Completed)

Shameless Masterlist

Fandom Masterlists

/"Talking"//Thinking//Muttering-Whispering/

***Narrator's Pov***

It has been about 2 weeks since all that happened. You've been avoiding Carl the whole time. Always giving him excuses, saying you have a girl's night with Debs or how you're too busy with your studies. When really you and Debbie had been planning on seeing a doctor for the both of you.

Meanwhile, Carl worked on getting out of his situation. He removed his Cornrows, gave Fiona his money to pay for the house, and he stopped doing his runs entirely.

This caused a certain someone to notice. How could she not when Carl has recently been working with her father to become a cop.

That's right, Dominique Fu*king Winslow, Carl's ex and your worst nightmare.

You two used to be friends until she found out that you liked him- Now she'd do anything to destroy your life. Throughout your time dating Carl, she has constantly tried to break you guys up. Of course, Carl being oblivious, never noticed. In fact, he's still friends with her.

His reason for breaking up with her was because she did, in fact, cheat on him. Though the only reason why he chooses to stay friends with her is that he wants her dad to like him so he can become a cop. Or at least that's what he told you.

But that all doesn't matter now. She wants him back, and she will do whatever it takes to get him back.

Time skip!~

***Carl's Pov***

It has been about a month and a half since all that went down. You and Carl hung out occasionally, but you both mainly focused on yourselves. You and Debbie became inseparable again, and Carl had just been doing his thing until Dominique approached him.

"Hey, Carl~" Dominique looked at him. "Carl!"

Carl jumped out of his thoughts to find Dominique in front of him. "Oh hey."

"I just wanted to ask, how's your pregnant girlfriend?" She asked with evil intentions. "Oh, and your sister's pregnant too, right? What luck!" She giggled.

"H-how did you know that?" Carl looked around, making sure no one heard.

"Oh, you know, rumors spread quite quickly in the southside~," She said nonchalantly.

Carl started panicking. He didn't want to stress her out even more. He knew if his girl found out that the school was spreading truthful rumors about her, she'd flip.

"Who started these rumors?!"

"Who knows..." When Dom realized Carl was about to leave, she grabbed his arm. "Hey, listen, Carl. I know you're in a really stressful situation right now and everything, but I was wondering if you wanna attend this party with me?"

Carl looked at her for a second in complete disbelief at what she just said.

"I get it if you don't want to, but I figured it would be a good way for you to relieve your stress and everything. You know, since you're gonna be a dad soon, I'd figured you'd at least want to have fun one more time." Dominique smirked, knowing that what she had just said ultimately convinced him into going. "I'll text you the details later. Also, don't bother bringing your girlfriend. There's gonna be alcohol."

Then she left, leaving him to contemplate his thoughts.

***Y/n's Pov***

Throughout your weeks of school, people started acting differently towards you. Every time you walked down a hallway, people would start whispering. Your other friends started avoiding you, and people started staring at you more and not in a good way.

It made you even more paranoid. You knew you weren't showing; it's been only a month since you found out after all, and besides, Debs and Carl both agreed to keep your pregnancy a secret since you didn't want the whole school to know.

You decided to go talk to Carl about it. When you found him, you saw Dominique walking away from him with a smirk on her face.

What's that all about? You sneaked up on him.

"Hey, what was that about?"

"Huh?" Carl turned to look at you. "Oh, nothing." 

"Oh, um, ok."

You couldn't help but feel uneasy about the whole situation.

Why would he be talking to Dominique of all people... a-and why now?

You looked at him while you two walked down the hall. You remembered reading something about body language and how to tell if someone was lying to you. You weren't entirely sure if it was true, but you had a bad feeling that Carl was gonna lie to you soon.

Ding~ Carl looked at his phone. Stopping in front of your classroom door.

"Hey, listen, I won't be able to hang out with you tonight."

"What! Why?" You asked, devastated. "You promised you'd come to me and Debbie's ultrasound checkup!"

"I know, and I'm sorry, but I can't go tonight."

"Why not?!"

"Uhh-" Carl scratched the back of his head. "Look, I gotta meet up with Sargent Winslow for something..."

Carl then left you hanging in the hallway alone.

Sargent Winslow? Since when was Sargent Winslow more important than our kid?

You weren't an expert, but you were pretty sure that Carl just lied to you.

#shameless #carl gallagher x reader #fanfiction #depression #debbie gallagher #fiona gallagher #foul language #manipulation #mention of bullying #teen pregnancy #fake friend #paranoia #small spoilers #mention of cheating #isolation #drama #teenage romance

[half-man-half-lime]

Sorry if I'm like, reciting something I forgot I heard on We've Got Worm or read in a post or something, but one thing that makes the cafeteria scene in Worm so great and warms my heart like nothing else is what it really means when the other kids stand up to side with Taylor.

Because Taylor's defining trauma was being shoved in a rotten, disgusting locker and yelling and banging for help and, crucially, knowing that there were tons of people around, and none of them cared enough to try and help her. She got a Master power from being a social outcast.

But after her career as a villain, with every heroic act, she started setting an example. That's what changes things. She flips out on Charlotte- despite the poor girl only just having been saved from human trafficking- for being a bystander back at school and not trying to help. And she did it right after making the choice to save Charlotte rather than being a bystander herself. And after that, after risking her life fighting mannequin, Charlotte decides to take in the neighborhood kids orphaned by Leviathan and the Slaughterhouse Nine.

Who do you think taught her that? What changed from when Charlotte stood by and let some random classmate get bullied so bad she got sent to the hospital psyche ward? Who taught her to expect better from herself?

And Charlotte is the first to stand up when Taylor tells people to stand with her.

The biggest contrast between Taylor visiting Arcadia and back when she was in Winslow isn't that the Undersiders are in power and corrupt the system to their own ends, it's that, despite their evils, they fought their way through a harsh point in the city's history and helped others along the way.

So Taylor, after once calling out for help and being ignored by people who were indifferent or felt powerless, calls out for help again and the people around her risked their own safety for her because of the example she set.

#Parahumans #Worm #Wildbow

[imsorryimlate]

back when we were doing dracula daily, someone posted something about how van helsing was both a lawyer and a doctor, and i was like “?? but jack is also both?”, but when i tried to find support for this idea of mine, i couldn’t find it. eventually i resigned myself to it being something i had dreamt.

but then!! i was again rereading the october 1st passage, where renfield says:

[…] I am as sane as at least the majority of men who are in full possession of their liberties. And I am sure that you, Dr. Seward, humanitarian and medico-jurist as well as scientist, will deem it a moral duty to deal with me as one to be considered as under exceptional circumstances.

and this is where i had gotten the idea, i think. but a medico-jurist is not a lawyer, which i had assumed because of the word jurist. no, a medico-jurist is, as the name implies, someone who’s involved in medical jurisprudence.

from wikipedia (awkwardly abridged for convenience):

Medical jurisprudence or legal medicine is the branch of science and medicine involving the study and application of scientific and medical knowledge to legal problems, such as inquests, and in the field of law. […] medicolegal cases involving death, rape, paternity, etc. require a medical practitioner to produce evidence and appear as an expert witness, […] Medical jurisprudence includes […] questions of competence or sanity in civil or criminal proceedings.

(emphasis mine)

so… our boy jack is out here giving expert witness testimonies in court?

now, i will admit to being someone who’s interested in true crime, and historical cases are always of interest because of the continuous evolution of forensic science and the shifting ideas around diminished responsibility. looking at the late 18th century and the 19th century, there are two points of interest regarding cases in the uk where defendants were found not guilty by reason of insanity:

1. a lot of them where kept at bethlam or broadmoor, famous mental hospitals

2. a lot of the expert witnesses were doctors and superintendents at bethlam or broadmoor, or at times at private asylums

some names that pop up a lot are:

william orange (superintendent at broadmoor)

sir william charles wood (superintendent at colney hatch, with its own connection to seward, later at bethlem)

edward monro (doctor at bethlem, appeared as an expert witness up to around 400 times!)

sir alexander morison (doctor at bethlem)

forbes winslow (owner of his own private asylums, also funniest middle name ever: benignus)

i’m not gonna ascribe nefarious motives to these doctors (especially dr. winslow because he seems to have been a pretty good guy who was “cutting-edge” by treating his patients humanely uhhh) but i still think there was a lot of potential for a conflict of interest, which is why i pointed out their professional positions.

but there is one doctor i will ascribe possible nefarious motives to: our dear doctor jack seward.

i know i’m not the only one who thinks that he was “saved” by the narrative in that in gave him a purpose and a stronger anchoring to his friends (both old and new). considering his opening entry, where he’s like “of course i wouldn’t experiment on renfield, that would be unethical and send me to hell…. but what if?? 👀” like, this guy… this guy!! i say this with love, but he’s primed for becoming an evil scientist.

i don’t think he would have done it when we meet him in the novel, or afterwards when he’s been through the whole adventure/mission – but if the events of dracula hadn’t happened, i could definitely see him descending deeper into self-justified malpractice, by which i mean he’d testify that accused criminals are insane just to get his hands on them, to be able to study them.

but aside from my speculation about that^ i also wonder if perhaps he’s well on his way to becoming an eminent expert witness when we meet him in the book. by renfield’s words, it would seem that he has been involved in an inquest or legal case at least once (but probably more if he’s going to claim the title medico-jurist). we all wonder sometimes how a 29 year old doctor came to have an immense lunatic asylum under his care, but honestly, some of these trials were huge, and expert witnesses could rise to some prominence and gain benefactors that way (just like they do today).

and who knows, maybe jack got his foot in the courtroom door via his lordling friend arthur, which would allow him to establish himself as a medical expert despite being young and (presumably) recently graduated.

#another fun post i decided to keep in my drafts for four months for no reason #jack seward #dracula #meta #ish?? #ask to tag #also some of those doctors were like nepo babies fr and had connections to the royal family etc #so they were incredibly powerful and protected #my meta

[winslowat3am]

How to gain 800 + new followers in less than a week? I WANT MORE FOLLOWERS bc I wanna sell commission 🎭🎨🖌️🤩

I don't know, my blog just goes haywire with new followers randomly, there's always a surge when I'm gone. I did the math & it was over eight hundred people & counting, within a few days. I'm not sure where they're coming from or what's drawing them here, it can't be YouTube or IG cause I don't have my Tumblr linked there, it's like someone opened a gate & they all ran through. Oh my God, maybe they sniffed out my secret stash of Tumblr snacks & came to take them! Oh my actual God. 🙈🙊 Ever since I said my parents named me after Winnie the Pooh & Winslow Homer it's been more chaotic than usual, so have the asks. Beats me. 😂 But I've always had a generally chaotic blog, energy wise. Lol, just do what those spam blogs do & advertise your shop to death between posts (even though people will probably find it's annoying). Edit: Actually, don't do that. Just post more, I guess? Finesse the tags. I don't know. I've only had my blog for a year, I still don't really get Tumblr, y'know? 🤔 I'm not even fully awake, it's really early, lmao. I just got up to pee cause my wife's wild movements jerked me, woke up to her death gripping my hair, think she was snuggling with it & then she said "hello?" in her sleep in my ear 💀 (wonder what she was dreaming about?). I'm sorry I'm not much help this morning. 😔 But hey. 👋☺️ Enjoy some Winnie & Kanga & Roo (this is me handing you flowers)! *Sits decoy snacks out for new followers* Now they'll be distracted away from my secret stash of deliciosity. 😏

#it's wild that I actually sleep sometimes #hadn't done that in a while #ask #inbox #going back to bed goodnight....or good morning ❤️

[mad-hunts]

oh. well, i suppose it's headcanon time once more, because i have way too many ideas regarding barton haha — so this may be a bit of a shorter one, but i believe it's equally as important as the one's i've posted thus far, because it really says something about how barton interacts with the world and how his brain works. but let me just start by saying that although barton does appear to have a relatively healthy relationship with food... he does occasionally hoard it, like, subconsciously as a result of the part of his childhood that he spent with wesley ( his biological father ). and this is because he was very much suffering from food insecurity while he was with his bio father. this is because wesley had lost his job as a forester whenever barton was around the age of five due to him missing too many days of work, not only because of how much his bloodthirst was taking over his life, but barton's life as well. he was forcing barton to go along with him on the super twisted ' hunting trips ' that i have talked about before that he unfortunately had to learn to endure with him ( which of course, in actuality, he never should've been forced to do ) about three times a week at one point and so that didn't really leave much time for wesley to attend work as much as he should've been.

and from there, wesley struggled a lot with finding a new job + providing for barton and him, so whenever he had access to food, barton would hoard it underneath his bed or in someplace where he knew that he knew he'd be able to find it because he wasn't sure when he'd be able to eat again. which is... very sad to think about, to say the least. thus, i think in more ways than one, meeting winslow at eight years old was probably the best thing for barton. winslow not only had a stable job, after all, but was a significant improvement in regards to how good of a father figure he was to him. i feel as if he never quite got over this insecurity, however, and that's why he sometimes still does it even till this day; especially since, although barton is NOT a good father overall, there is one thing that he's done right in regard to them and that is making sure that they were always put first in regards to getting to eat something. so hoarding food for him is also kind of a ' safety measure ' in a way as well because he has always been of the mindset that him being hungry is less important than them being hungry because of what wesley put him through as a child.

but yeah, that's just another one of my two-cents about barton's situation and how his mind as a whole works. he will quite literally sacrifice something like that for his children one second, though the next, he is liable to do something that makes it seem like he doesn't care about them at all... which admittedly makes him kind of confusing BUT i think there is reasoning behind this and one of those being that he can definitely feel cognitive empathy towards people, but actually putting himself in their shoes? it's much more difficult for him and sometimes nearly impossible because of how skewed his mind is. i shall expand more upon that another time, however, and what the term actually entails. i hope this didn't bum y'all out too bad but i promise you that i'll try to post more ( semi?? yeah, perhaps that ) fluffy things in the future.

#YOUR NEED GREW TEETH: character study. #ANGERS HELPED ME STAY ALIVE: headcanons. #tw: mentions of food insecurity. #tw: allusions to murder. #ahh.. yeah so whenever i say that barton hoards food i mean that he literally has a crapload of things like crackers / sweets / energy- #bars and etc. underneath his bed so like if you see anything like that. no you didn't xxx / hj #nah but it is kind of a sensitive subject for him so it really might not be the best thing to bring up around him if you see it... #so you may just want to pretend like you didn't.

[thegameartist03]

@cryptidcaper I'd love to talk about them! This is gonna be a pretty long post, so I put in a couple tl;dr's for those who just want to get the gist of it.

I have no idea what to call this, so I'll keep running with it being a Phantom of the Paradise au. There are some changes to the themes and content of the original story based on what I felt comfortable writing about and discussing, but everything else is pretty much intact. If you have any questions, suggestions, or comments, feel free to throw them my way! I'll be happy to talk more about it.

(overall tl;dr: the au is set in the 2020s, the supernatural is part of everyday life, Swan is the head of media conglomerate Death Studios and working for an Entity known as Sparrow to collect souls, zombies and ghosts make for cheap labor, Winslow is trying to get his stage production of Faust seen, Phoenix has a YouTube channel for explaining the paranormal and wants her own show, Beef is a writer, actor, and director who gets an arguably worse fate than the movie, Swan took the band name Undeads too literally and now the Juicy Fruits are trapped working for him forever, Philbin is a stone construct disguised as a human)

A little context about the world to start. (tl;dr, it's the 2020s, paranormal beings like zombies exist and are well known but not talked about, Swan made a deal with a powerful Entity called Sparrow to stay young forever and collects souls for Sparrow in exchange, now Swan is head of the Death Studios media conglomerate, he's incredibly influential and successful, meanwhile he's using contracts to exploit and control his workforce which benefits both him and Sparrow, most workers are Undead or constructs because their labor is cheaper.)

This version of the story is set in the 2020s (partly because I didn't want to do a ton of research on the 70s, partly because I thought it'd be funny if Winslow started dissing Swan on twitter). The supernatural is very present and well known by people but not often acknowledged. Ghosts and zombies exist, spirits can decide to help your houseplants grow or give you bad luck, hand-carved constructs are used for jobs that would be too dangerous for humans, and fae-like beings known as Entities walk the lines between worlds and lure people into contracts to increase their power. Talking about these paranormal parts of the world is taboo for most so there's a lot of fear and misunderstanding surrounding them. It's also kept hush-hush by certain people who rely on the supernatural to profit.

Swan is one of these people. In the 50s, an Entity known as Sparrow approached him at his lowest and convinced him to sign a contract. In exchange for eternal youth and power, Swan would collect more souls for Sparrow. Swan has been largely successful with this through his company Death Studios (upgraded from Death Records) and has expanded from the music industry into general entertainment. He now directs a media conglomerate and makes use of social media to promote his definitely not stolen or exploited productions. Think Mr. Beast meets Disney meets Netflix. He's wildly popular, and partly due to the influence and power granted by Sparrow, almost no one questions how he's still so young and successful and those who do ask questions are quickly silenced. Every artist, writer, actor, singer, musician, producer, etc dreams of one day working for Swan.

Behind the scenes, Swan uses his sweeping control of the entertainment industry to hire fresh faces, sign them onto exploitative contracts, and then drain them of all they're worth. This benefits both him and Sparrow. And, if someone tries to leave or raise the alarm, they simply have a little 'accident' and are brought back as an Undead who can be exploited even more and paid even less. The majority of Swan's employees are actually Undead who have been trapped by their contracts and unable to move on as long as Swan finds them useful.

With that lengthy explanation over, onto the characters!

Winslow Leach is about the same, he's a composer and writer who's been working on a musical stage production of Faust for most of his life. He's not well known and dreams that his work will one day be seen by the world. He has a knack for getting into places he shouldn't be, he's bad with computers and writes most things out by hand, and at this point he's naive and almost blindly optimistic. I'm also giving him The Tism and reclaiming those vibes from the movie because Projection and Yes.

Phoenix never got into singing, though her voice is still terrific. Instead, she's a paranormal investigator and has her own small YouTube channel talking about the supernatural and its presence in their world. She's not as afraid of the unnatural as most people are, and she hopes that exposing these things that people try to sweep under the rug will help them understand the paranormal better and be less afraid of it. She dreams of having her own show one day with the budget to do proper explorations of lesser-known paranormal sites and beings. She's determined to reach this goal to the point of recklessness and risking her own safety, especially since some of these beings can be incredibly dangerous. She's waiting for her shot to get out of her dead end job and chase her goals, and she's not letting anything get in the way.

Swan is Swan, the only big difference is he has a bit more obvious supernatural-ness to him. His Entity-given power relies on perception, making people perceive him however he wants them to. He can extend this power to others and disguise his more inhuman staff so they blend in with the natural world. He plans to open a new major studio location/online streaming service called Paradise+ and is looking for the right content to do it. He's also on TikTok, which is horrifying enough.

Beef! He's a professional actor and writer who's directed and taken part in plenty of stage productions and films in his time. He's also a guitarist, which doesn't come into play in his work as often as he'd like. He suffers the same fate as he does in the movie, but that's far from the end of his story.

The Juicy Fruits are Swan's swiss army knife of an entertainment group, and of course they've all signed contracts with him. Whatever the trends are, the Juicy Fruits will adapt to them. They've gone from songs to gaming to children's entertainment. At one point, the group decided they wanted to move on from Death Studios and tried to exit their contract. Unfortunately, there was an 'accident' during one of the rehearsals, and now they're permanently trapped under Swan's thumb unable to escape or reenter society. The 'accident' also affected their looks, so when they perform they're either animated with motion capture or disguised by Swan or heavy makeup and prosthetics to hide the fact they are no longer alive.

Sometime in the 60s, Swan purchased an older property that included a number of stone gargoyles. In need of some body guards that wouldn't ask questions and weren't as fragile as the usual human grunts, he had them removed from the building and then brought them to life. Thus, Philbin was created. He's Swan's right hand man and does all the dirty work. He doesn't have much to complain about; Swan gave him a disguise so he can appear as human, he gets paid enough and treated better than most of the other employees, and he's got relative freedom in his job. Most contracts are signed through Philbin on behalf of Swan.

This is already really long, so I'll go in depth about the plot in a separate post. But, to give a short summary, the plot of the movie still happens (with a few twists and a different ending), and then the characters go through a few arcs trying to figure themselves out and how to escape Swan's influence. Winslow in particular struggles with his identity and who and what he is after getting Phantom'd. There's laughs to be had, horrors to be witnessed, and not everyone is going to be making it out alive (or un-alive). As a final note, if anyone has any ideas for what this should be called, lmk!

#gamma thoughts #phantom of the paradise #potp #potp au #gamma’s writing #faentom of the paradise

[benjhawkins]

Dear Benj, Help! I am giving a presentation on New England maritime history through logbooks/sea journals @ boat camp and my sample set is white af. Do you (or Pentecost) have any recommendations of logs, journals, or personal narratives written by BIPOC mariners under sail from New England?

Hello hello!

I’m actually just headed out the door to work but I wanted to give you a quick answer! When I get home tonight I’ll have a bit more for you!

First to mind is Briton Hammon and his 1760 narrative is the first voyage account published by a Black American! He was enslaved by a man named Winslow in Marshfield, Massachusetts.

Second is Charles Benson , a Black mariner from Salem. He worked as a steward from 1862-1880. His journals are a GREAT insight into how Black sailors worked alongside white sailors and what the typical work would have been like for other men like Benson. He also uses his logs as scrapbooks so there are neat little things to see there. I’ve done a lot of posts about Benson that are tagged on my blog!

I don’t know if Paul Cuffe or Absalom Boston had personal journals but I’ll look tonight!

Also tagging @pentecostwaite so he sees it.

#I’m so excited for your presentation! I hope it goes well! #I’ll come back to this I promise

[insomniacwriter17]

Saved from the Flames - Chapter Twenty-Six

"When you’re born in a burning house, you think the whole world is on fire. But it’s not.” –Richard Kadrey

Billy Hargrove is 9 years old. He tries his best to be the son his father wants him to be - quiet, respectful, and obedient. But Neil just pushes harder and harder, all in the name of raising a “strong man”. When Billy is removed from his father’s custody and placed in foster care, it takes some time for him to realize his world is no longer burning around him. New experiences, new people, new opportunities all make Billy realize there’s a whole lot more to life than respect and responsibility.

AKA: The story of how Bob Newby became a real life superhero for one little boy who needed saving.

Inspired by this post I saw from @connordax

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five | chapter six | chapter seven | chapter eight | chapter nine | chapter ten | chapter eleven | chapter twelve | chapter thirteen | chapter fourteen | chapter fifteen | chapter sixteen | chapter seventeen | chapter eighteen | chapter nineteen | chapter twenty | chapter twenty-one | chapter twenty-two | chapter twenty-three | chapter twenty-four | chapter twenty-five

read on ao3

While Billy had gotten used to coming to see Dr. Marcus every week, this time it felt different. Bob had said Ms. Gabby was coming, and she’d never come to any of his other meetings! He’d been so nervous that his tummy was all twisted up, so much so that he’d turned down the snack Bob had brought him after school. 

Now, Billy sat in the waiting room beside Bob, his cheek squished against the man’s arm as he rested quietly, Winslow clutched to his chest. Bob had initially been trying to reassure him, but after a while seemed to realize that what Billy needed was quiet support. 

“When is Ms. Gabby going to be here?” Billy asked after a few minutes. Usually, they didn’t sit in the waiting room very long – Dr. Marcus was always ready for them when they got there. 

“I don’t know, kiddo,” Bob replied apologetically. “But I’m sure we’ll get started as soon as she’s here.” Billy sighed and slumped further in the seat, and Bob patted the boy’s knee. 

“Mr. Newby?” The receptionist’s window slid open and Anna was smiling at him through the window. “Can I speak with you for a moment? I have a quick question about Billy’s insurance card.” 

With a nod, Bob waited for Billy to sit up, and then he made his way to the window. Billy stayed curled up in his seat, watching him closely. “Mr. Newby, Gabby and Dr. Marcus are back in his office, and they want to speak with you for a moment before Billy joins you guys,” Anna dropped her voice low so that the eavesdropping child across the room couldn’t hear. “Is that okay?”

Bob looked back over his shoulder at Billy, then back to Anna. “I’ll come sit with him,” she answered before Bob even had to ask. So Bob turned back to Billy and walked over. 

“Hey, kiddo, they need me in the back for a minute, so Ms. Anna’s going to come sit with you a second, okay?” He offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile to Billy, and it seemed to do the trick. 

“Okay,” Billy said softly. “I’ll wait for Ms. Gabby.” 

“Good plan,” Bob nodded. A moment later, the door opened and Anna stepped out with a smile and a greeting to Billy, and Bob disappeared down the hall, listening to the sound of Anna and Billy’s conversation growing quieter. 

Bob entered the now familiar room and saw both Gabby and Dr. Marcus already in the room. “Hey everyone,” he greeted, looking around. Gabby was sitting in the arm chair in the corner, so Bob sat on the edge of the couch opposite Dr. Marcus. “What’s happening?” he asked, cutting right to the chase. 

“Well,” Gabby rubbed her hands together and leaned forward so her elbows rested on her knees. “I had a meeting with the judge just a few minutes before I left to come here,” she commented. “He had a case update for me.” 

Bob’s heart leapt into his throat. “He did? What did he say?” He looked to Dr. Marcus, who had a frustratingly neutral expression on his face. But then Gabby was speaking, so he turned his head back toward her, noting that she was smiling. 

“Your home study was approved, Bob. It’s all official. The court is 100% in favor of you adopting Billy.”

The breath left Bob’s chest as he stared at her, unmoving. “Really?” he finally asked, his voice breaking. It felt like someone had taken a ton of weight off his chest. Billy’s mine. Only for the weight to come back double. Billy’s really mine. 

Dr. Marcus nodded. “It was a unanimous decision across Billy’s care team. The other family was great, but Billy has blossomed so much under your care, he’s clearly very attached, and we think this decision will allow him to feel secure and confident because he won’t have to move again.” 

Bob nodded mutely, tears gathering in his eyes. “We wanted to tell you first so you could have your moment before we bring Billy back,” Gabby continued with a smile. She was wiping tears off her own cheeks and she laughed wetly. “Damn it, Bob,” she chuckled. “You’re getting me all choked up!” 

Bob wanted to apologize, but his own voice wouldn’t work. His vision swam with tears and he dropped his head into his hands, taking in a deep breath. The other adults in the room were quiet, giving him a moment to process the big news. 

“What do we do now?” he finally asked, picking his head up and looking between Dr. Marcus and Gabby. 

“Now, we make sure Billy’s on the same page,” Gabby explained. “And then I will take Dr. Marcus’s official recommendation to the court and we will schedule the start of the adoption hearings. We should have everything signed and done by mid-September, if all goes well.” 

Bob couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “September,” he repeated. “Like…after this summer?” 

“That is when September falls on the calendar, yes,” Dr. Marcus’s voice had an amused lift to it, and Bob laughed as he shook his head. 

“This is amazing,” he told them before growing a bit more somber. “This is heartbreaking.” It was so…final. Despite how badly Bob wanted to give Billy everything, it still settled heavy in his heart that Billy wouldn’t be going back with his biological family. That was always the goal, until it wasn’t. 

“It is, but it’s also amazing,” Gabby pointed out with a practiced ease, like she’d had this conversation before. Probably because she had, Bob realized. “That Billy found you, and has time to get to know you, to trust you, and now gets to stay with you. He no longer has to wonder if he’s going to have another parental figure abandon him. You’re giving him the home, the second chance, the love he deserves.” She sat up a bit straighter and smiled. “He’s been telling us for weeks that he doesn’t want to leave you, we’re just finally telling him that’s what’s going to happen.”

Bob cleared his throat, nodding in agreement as he wiped the last of the tears from his eyes. He had to pull it together. “You’re right.” His voice was still shaky, but he stood up. “Can I go get him?” 

Opening the door to the waiting room and keeping a straight face was the hardest thing Bob had ever done. He smiled reassuringly at Billy, who looked up eagerly the second the door opened. Bob gestured for Billy to join him, and Anna followed after Billy to return to her post at the reception desk. “Guess what?” Bob said as Billy walked across the room. “Ms. Gabby’s already here! She snuck in before we got here.” 

“She did?!” Billy gasped, leading the way back to Dr. Marcus’s office. “She snuck in!” The boy walked with confidence down the hall to the familiar room, though Bob could see that his shoulders were still tense and Billy was wringing Winslow’s arm in his hands nervously.

“She sure did,” Bob laughed his agreement as he pushed open the office’s door. Billy immediately froze as he studied the room before he walked through the threshold. The boy moved to give Ms. Gabby a hug, and Bob sat back down on the couch where he’d sat previously. 

When Billy moved away, he gravitated toward Bob instinctively. While he’d grown comfortable with Dr. Marcus’s office and what happened while he was there, Billy’s pulse raced because of how different this was. Gabby didn’t ever come to his meetings with Dr. Marcus, and Billy was the one to make the call about whether or not Bob stayed. 

Not that Billy was complaining – it made Billy feel better to know Bob was right there as he settled between him and Dr. Marcus on the couch. The only sound in the room was that of Billy’s jeans rustling against fabric as he shifted uncomfortably on the couch cushions. 

Bob looked between the two professionals, unsure of where to start. Billy was looking at him for guidance, and Bob didn’t quite know what to do. He was afraid that whatever he said would be wrong. It was Gabby that finally broke the silence. “Billy, do you know what the word adopt means?” 

Billy’s face scrunched in confusion. “Isn’t that when you bring a dog home from the pound?” Then he gasped and turned to look back at Bob, eyes sparkling. “Are we getting a dog?” 

We, Bob echoed in his mind. Like Billy already knew they would be a family.

Gabby laughed before she could stop herself, and even Bob chuckled. “Well, you’re not wrong…I guess that is what it can mean.” 

“We’re not getting a dog, pal,” Bob interrupted, shaking his head. Billy grumbled and crossed his arms sadly. “Sorry to disappoint.” 

Gabby cleared her throat in an attempt to get the conversation back on track, and Billy looked up at her. “So adopting means that you’re taking something and making it your own. And so Bob, Dr. Marcus, and I wanted to talk to you to see how you felt about Bob adopting you.” 

The office went quiet, and Billy could feel all three sets of eyes on him as he processed what Gabby was saying. He studied his hands like they were the most interesting thing in the world for a few moments, unwilling to look up and find out that this was all a dream. 

“Billy?” Bob’s voice broke through the ringing in Billy’s ears. Billy felt a hand fall onto his back and he instinctively gravitated toward Bob. The young boy made himself draw in one, two, three deep breaths to calm himself down, and it was only then he slowly looked up at Bob. The man was right there, looking at him with a mixture of concern and something else Billy couldn’t identify.

“You wanna adopt me?” Billy whispered, almost afraid of the words. He didn’t want to be wrong. 

His eyes were hopeful, and Bob nodded immediately. “I’d love that, bud. I told you I’d keep you safe and you’d have a home with me as long as you want it. If that’s something you want to do, this is the best way for us to do that.” 

Billy couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Hope filled his chest as he asked, “So you’d be my dad? For real?” His eyes were wide, deep blue and blinking up at Bob like the man had all the answers in the world. 

Bob swallowed thickly. “Neil is always going to be your father, Billy…” he started, not 100% sure where that sentence was going to end. 

Billy abruptly shook his head, pulling away from Bob with a frown. “Nuh-uh.” He looked back down at his lap and hugged Winslow tight to his chest. The adults around him were quiet in the way that he had grown to know they were having a silent conversation with their faces. “Gabby told me that dads are supposed to take care of you. He doesn’t take care of me, but you do.” He shook his head again, feeling tears prick in his eyes. “I don’t want Neil to be my daddy anymore. I want you to.”  

Billy’s breath hitched in his throat as Bob reached for him, hugging him tightly. Winslow squished between them, Billy wrapped his tiny arms around Bob’s shoulders and crawled into his lap. Bob didn’t let him go – in fact, the man hugged him harder. Billy’s head burrowed against Bob’s shoulder and he let out the tiniest cry that he couldn’t stop. Billy felt like if Bob hugged him long enough, he’d forget about every bad thing Neil had ever done to him. 

His sniffle turned into sobs and Billy didn’t know why. He was happy, wasn’t he? He wanted to stay with Bob! He didn’t want to go back to what it had been like before – anger and yelling and locked doors. But the more he thought about it, the harder he cried until he couldn’t breathe. 

Bob was looking over Billy’s head at Dr. Marcus, who seemed to be studying Billy with an infuriating level of calm. Billy was shaking like a leaf in Bob’s grasp, and he could feel the tell-tale warmth that meant Billy was leaving tear and snot stains on the shoulder of his shirt. It wasn’t often that Billy got emotional in therapy, usually he hid it behind building Legos or coloring, but this wasn’t a normal situation, either. 

“Billy?” Dr. Marcus eventually called, and Bob shifted so that when Billy lifted his head, he was looking at the counselor. The boy’s face was already red and his eyes swollen, tear tracks forming now that they weren’t being soaked up by Bob’s shirt. “What’s going through your head right now, buddy?” When Billy didn’t immediately answer, Dr. Marcus continued. “It doesn’t have to make sense right now. That’s what we’re here for – to help you understand it.” 

Billy sniffled, thinking for a moment.  Finally, he brought one hand up to wipe at his cheeks and then mumbled, “I’m happy but I’m still crying.” Dr. Marcus was nodding at him in that way that Billy had learned meant the man wanted him to say more, so Billy searched for something else to add. He took in a deep, shuddering breath, and a second later, Bob’s hand ran up and down Billy’s back reassuringly. It calmed Billy almost immediately, and he turned his head so that he was still looking at Dr. Marcus as he laid back down against Bob’s shoulder. 

“I really like it at Mr. Bob’s house, so staying there makes me happy,” Billy finally managed to say. He felt like there were a lot of words swirling around in his brain but he was unsure of how to get them out of his mouth in a way that made sense to everyone. “But I’m still sad that I’m not going back.” 

Dr. Marcus continued to nod, but Billy had picked up from the man’s body language that he was satisfied with the answer. “It can be scary to know things are changing, can’t it?” the man asked. 

Billy nodded, realizing that was exactly it. “I thought maybe my dad would change his mind,” he whispered, picking at the seam on the shoulder of Bob’s shirt. “That he’d want me afterall.” 

It shattered Bob’s heart into a million pieces in his chest; he was surprised Billy didn’t hear it. Billy deserved better than this. He didn’t deserve to feel unwanted – he wasn’t unwanted. But he was unwanted by the person who mattered most to Billy for so long, and Bob could understand why that was so upsetting. 

“Billy,” Dr. Marcus paused, obviously choosing his words carefully. “You and I have talked a lot about how your dad is in trouble for what he did to you and some other things, haven’t we?” He waited for a meek nod from Billy. “That’s right. So this isn’t about whether or not Neil wants you back, because he’s in trouble with the police.” 

Billy nodded, wiping his nose on his wrist as he mumbled, “It wouldn’t be fair for me to have to go to jail with him.” The sentence was so innocent yet heartfelt that Bob wanted to chuckle. But he refrained, simply offering a thankful smile to Gabby as she passed him a box of Kleenex for Billy. 

“It wouldn’t,” Dr. Marcus agreed. “Do you remember that we talked about what parental rights are?” 

“That means my daddy is able to take care of me and make decisions for me,” Billy recited, a box of Kleenex appearing in his vision as Bob held them up to him. He obediently took one and blew his nose, laying his head back down. “But he doesn’t have that anymore,” he continued smartly. “He gave them up because he’s in trouble.” He looked around for a trash can but didn’t see one, so he held the crumpled tissue in his sweaty hand instead. 

“He did. I’m proud of you for remembering all of that!” Dr. Marcus praised gently. “That’s a lot of information for you to take in, isn’t it?” Billy nodded, then he picked his head back up, eyes wide. 

“Can Bob have ‘em?” he asked suddenly, twisting in Bob’s arms so he looked at Ms. Gabby. “The parental rights? Since my dad isn’t using them anymore?”

Gabby smiled, nodding. “That’s what adopting you would do. Bob would get those parental rights so he can keep taking care of you, make all those decisions that a parent makes, and love you just like a dad should.” 

Billy looked over his shoulder at Bob, awestruck. “You want those?” he asked. Clearly, this conversation seemed to have clicked the puzzle pieces into place for Billy. He was finally understanding what all this meant – at least as much as his young, still-shocked brain could. “You want the parental rights?” 

It was such a clinical, grown-up term that it made Bob want to laugh every time Billy uttered the words. But the question was so sincere that Bob simply nodded, making eye contact with Billy. “I do,” he answered surely. “If you want me to have them, I would love to have them.” 

Billy nodded quickly, turning back to look at Gabby once more. “He can have ‘em.” He said it with such finality that the social worker had to laugh. 

“Dr. Marcus has a couple more things he wants to tell you about what that means, okay?” Gabby redirected the conversation back toward the counselor, and Billy shifted once more in Bob’s arms, eventually wiggling out of the man’s lap and back onto the couch, though he stayed as close to Bob as he could manage. 

Bob was impressed with how well Dr. Marcus navigated the conversation. Billy seemed to listen and understand all the components of what Dr. Marcus was telling him: Neil would no longer legally be Billy’s father; there would be no more visits at the courthouse or otherwise; and this was not a decision that could be undone. “So there’s no need to make this decision today if you’re not ready,” Dr. Marcus concluded. “You can keep staying with Bob even if he doesn’t adopt you yet.” 

Billy shook his head. “I want him to adopt me,” he said surely, looking from Dr. Marcus to Gabby and then finally up to Bob. “Mr. Bob?” 

“Yeah, pal?” Bob smiled at him. 

“Does this mean I get to call you dad now?” 

#stranger things #billy hargrove #ao3 #insomniacwriter17 #bob newby #sftf #bob newby deserved better #billy hargrove deserved better #foster care au #cw: child abuse

[amplifyme]

I'm working through the next part and just finished As on a Darkling Plain-- wow. Nan took the fairytale up to 100 to turn Vincent inside and out and save him.

Catherine peppering him with ways to reconnect to life and be a part of it with the Wizard of Oz references, only showing the Other's destruction through her tv set, Vincent knowing how to use the tv remote because of Diana, saving him during his darkest hour by still living inside of him and restoring that memory, the dead remain in him, the shifting tower, so many other things.... Absolutely thrilled and contemplative over that chapter (and the previous sections leading up to it.)

I'd love to hear your thoughts on it, any and all you can spare.

Under a cut again...

It's a great little fairytale, isn't it?

So here's a bit of the backstory. When the writer's room was first outlining what they thought would be a full 3rd season with a full cast, this was their thinking. I'll let George R.R. Martin tell you:

"The end-of-second-season trilogy was intended to lead into a beginning-of-third-season trilogy that we’ve referred to as the “Land of the Dead” storyline. I have discussed this in some detail in a long-ago STARLOG interview, so it’s hardly a secret. Catherine supposedly screams in the final moment of the second season because she finds Vincent dead in the cave.

In the third season, Vincent would have been interred in the catacombs, a grieving Catherine would have tried to get on with her life, and we would have followed Vincent through a bizarre, haunted streets of a city of darkness, where he would have faced many of the men he had killed. Thematically, this was meant to be the resolution of the Trilogy and its themes.

We wanted to use actors from previous episodes, playing characters that Vincent had killed… but he would also meet friends there. We hoped to bring back James Avery as Winslow. Ultimately, he would come face to face with the King of the Dead, who would of course be Paracelsus… again, resolving the Trilogy. And meanwhile his bond with Catherine would reach him even beyond the boundaries of life, and ultimately pull him back to the world of the living. He would wake up and burst free of his crypt, alive again, and we would never know if he had really been dead or not, if the adventure in the Land of the Dead had been true or just a very vivid dream.

This was more than just one idea among many, as was said uptopic. It had been discussed in some detail, and we were definitely going to go with a version of it. Maybe only one episode, maybe three… but some thing on that order. Perlman was absolutely crazy about the notion. Then… well… then came what you call Black Thursday, and Linda, and you know the rest. We never got to do it." (x)

The Black Thursday he refers to is when the network informed them that the show would only be returning as a 12 episode mid-season replacement, in large part because Linda Hamilton had made it clear she would absolutely not be returning for more than the first episode of S3.

So what Nan did was take the seed of this idea and create the darkling plain Vincent visits, where as Nan explains, "The Other is assumed to be a separate and independent self who, whenever he isn't surfacing to do violence in the "real world", lives in his own subjective country he orders as he chooses. That country is also inhabited by the wraiths of all he's killed, as well as those of people he'd held as they were dying - namely Catherine." (x)

As far as my thoughts upon first reading, I was gobsmacked by not only the initial idea of it and how Nan expanded on it, but the way she did it. Weaving the threads of Vincent's long battle with his dual natures and beginning to acknowledge that maybe he has more in common with the Other than he'd been willing to admit; that the Other has his own fully imagined and complete life, including a still-alive Catherine, protected and cherished. That maybe he does have the right to not only desire a complete life for himself and Diana, but that he also deserves it, beyond the pain and grief of losing Catherine. And all of this threaded with small touchstones and glimpses of the original La Belle et la Bête. It's really is a masterpiece of writing.

And this line: "I'm back from Kansas and I love you all very much," still makes me happy cry every time I read it. 🥹

I'm really am so glad you're enjoying Nan's work. I think she would be, too. Enjoy!

#beauty and the beast 1987 #fanfic #as on a darkling plain #acquainted with the night 2 #nan dibble #george r.r. martin

[randomgurl2326]

Ignorance Is Bliss Pt. 1

A/N: Thank you to the beautiful Anon for requesting this fic. This has been one of my delusions that help me sleep at night. So, may I please introduce you to the ‘she fell first but he fell harder’ trope that we all love. With, of course, Ema and Mickey helping and hoping for them to get together💚💜

As the h/c girl closed her locker, Ema was yet again tired of the ongoing “will-they-won’t-they” of the l/n girl and the Spindell boy. “All I’m saying is, maybe you should tell him because you’ve been hopelessly in love with him since fifth grade.”

Y/N pointed at Ema and said with a cheeky smile, “ah no, sixth grade, get it right. Also, there is no way in hell that I’m going to tell him, alright?”

Worth that the Winslow best friend sighed, and the two best friends walked to French class.

Meanwhile with a Mickey and Spoon…

“…a-and she has this thing where whenever she’s talking about something she likes that she does with her hair, y’know, like this,” the rambling Spindell boy said while demonstrating what his object of infatuation does with his own hair, not quite show ing it right.

Mickey chuckles and shakes his head, “y’know, telling her how you feel would be a great idea. Maybe, I don’t know at the park or something. Oor-9r, hear me out, just telling her would be nice.”

“Oh, dear Mickelous, that is simply just not possible. You see, you cannot simply fathom how much platonic-ivory oozes from her when we hang out together. Also, Y/an does not like the park because of children and the grass makes her itch; it would probably have to be during the night while under the stars.”

“Oh yeah, totally platonic when she looks at you like you actually hung the stars in front of her. Just like that show she likes with Azipy- Aziry-, nope, can’t say it.”

Arthur sighs, “Mickey, my bestest friend in the universe, she doesn’t like me and she never will, okay? Now come on, we’ll be late for wood shop and I’m looking forward to making a bird house that can stand this year.”

As they walked down the hall to their next class, Mickey sighed and started to formulate a plan and text Ema:

M: we need to come up with a plan for these two — sent at 10:45 a.m.

E:

Ik, I can’t take it anymore — sent at 10:46 a.m.

Meet me in the MILF room after lunch, well conspire there — sent at 10:48 a.m.

M:Ok, and btw, I hate that name — sent at 10:50 a.m.

Also y do u sound like an evil genius?? — sent at 10:50 a.m.

E:

Ikr, horrible name. And, idk, I just do sound like one ig — sent at 11:00 a.m.

Meet u after lunch — sent at 11:01 a.m.

After Lunch…

“Okay, now, that was a rough forty-five minutes to get through,” Mickey said this as him and Ema walked into the abandoned boiler room, a.k.a. The MILF Room, a.a.k.a. The Spindell Spot.

As the Winslow girl sat down on the couch she managed out, “yeah, that was unnecessarily hard. It’s like they want to look into our souls and have us tell them everything. Y/N really needs to stop looking like she’s about to run over a dog.”

“It’s seriously out of hand how much information they can try and gauge out of us. Spoon is the worst. He literally has that look on his face where he look-“

“Looks like he’s the most innocent and pure thing on the world? Yeah, I’ve seen that look. He’s literally the devil in disguise,” Ema then pulls out her laptop to take notes on how to get the two oblivious, love-sick, diabolic, little love birds, “so, you ready to do this?”

Mickey smiled and sat down next to his other best friend, “ready to finally get them to stop pining over each other and being self destructive? Hell yeah.”

And so, the two of the four best friends created a plan to get the other half together.

“…by the way, when do I have to get you and Rachel together,” the Bolitar boy than got smacked by a book by the alt girl and continued with their scheming.

To be continued…

A/N: I don’t know how I feel about this, but I want to make my little anon chalupa(and my readers proud) so I’m doing this. Please give me feedback on how I could improve the is one.

#arthur spindell x reader #spoon spindell x reader #arthur spindell #spoon spindell #mickey bolitar #ema winslow #ema winslow x reader #queer #harlan coben’s shelter #shelter #x reader #shira x hannah #shira/hannah #harlan cobens shelter #rachel caldwell #Whitney renna #Buck Renna #female #freddie mercury #chalupa #thank you anon #thank you

[captmickey]

Been thinking about the Plunderbunnies a little but all I can really do rn is rotate them in my brain, so I wanted to ask... you got any headcanons to share? Maybe regarding their wedding, or being new parents with Boybrush?

Oh boy do I!

....just realized I shout that everytime someone asks me about headcanons and the such.

But yes! Yes I do! I have thought about it intensely for... well, ever. Especially in regards to their wedding. So lets break it down by each thing because I'm that person

In regards to their wedding:

-I always loved the idea that Guybrush had to get his wedding suit tailored because he is both very tall and very lanky. But because of his nerves getting the best of him and imagining all the worst case imaginable scenarios, he shakes like a leaf which causes needles to poke him which makes him panic even more (a.k.a ask me about my 'Guybrush has a phobia of needles' headcanon) and luckily Haggis sees what's happening and manages to calm Guybrush's nerves.

-Thanks to Return, Guybrush wrote with Elaine the invites. He added the haiku and it was a surprise hit... don't ask him to write any more poems/haikus... it was a one time thing.

-Grubby hands is I.... Guybrush stomped the glass at the wedding. If you know, you know.

-I don't know why, but I loved the idea of Wally being a part of Elaine's bridal party over Guybrush's. So Carla and Wally definitely threw an excellent bachelorette party.

-The Barber Quartet were Guybrush's groomsmen. (If Winslow had known Guybrush then, absolutely would be his Best Man).

-Guybrush and Elaine dated for a bit longer before they tied the know officially. Guybrush proposed properly and with a (thankfully) uncursed ring.

-Elaine made the uncursed ring her earring as seen in Tales because one, too big to wear as a ring and two, it's her good luck charm since Guybrush went to great lengths to craft it for her.

In regards to Boybrush:

-Everybody when they heard the news initially panicked that Guybrush would be a terrible father because he's that much of a goof. He not only destroyed but obliterated that fear by being the best husband/father there is.

-Elaine, admittedly, was insulted on Guybrush's behalf that everyone kept asking her if she's feeling safe around him.

-Guybrush stayed up late and read as many parenting/baby books there is so he can take care of Elaine and their soon to be kid. It is safe to say he's the most knowledgeable pirate in that regard.

-Guybrush also panicked endlessly if he was even fit to be a dad. Not that he didn't want to be... he did. Badly. But he feared that everyone's assumption on him had some validity. Elaine had to calm him down that he would be fine... and he calmed her down as well that she would be an excellent mother.

-They were each other's cheerleaders throughout the whole thing.

-It was Guybrush's idea to stay on land during the final months of the pregnancy. He read too many books and the idea that they could be caught in a storm or a battle when it was time scared him.

-Because Meathook moved away, they took residence in his place and refurbished it to be a proper home. They still refer to their ship as home, but this is their "in-between sailing" home.

-Carla saw the extreme lengths Guybrush was going through for Elaine that she had no problem stepping in to help to let him catch some sleep. He was trying his hardest and Elaine would stare, smirk, and go "told you so."

-Winslow and Anemone were the only two to not judge but they knew not to overwhelm either. If they were needed, the Threepwoods knew where to find them.

-After Boybrush was born, Guybrush held him and immediately felt a shift: being a father and a husband was far more important to him. He still loved being a pirate, but that was easily third place.

-Whenever Boybrush woke up in the middle of the night, Guybrush would wake to take care of him... Elaine has done much of the work and he feels this is the least he can do.

-That being said, Elaine has caught him dead asleep with Boybrush in his arms in the rocking chair. She tells him it's okay that she takes care too.

-It shocked Guybrush how quickly Boybrush falls asleep in Elaine’s hold. He has to tell stories to get the child to sleep.

-One time Elaine went to Carla to help with gubernatorial work... they heard snoring and found Guybrush asleep on the couch with Boybrush on his chest drinking from the baby bottle.

#monkey island #rtmi spoilers #the ship that literally sails itself

[melloween-candie]

Teen pregnancy [P.9]

A Carl Gallagher x Fem Reader fic

Summary

You only started dating Carl for about 2 months. That was right around the time when he and Dom broke up. Deep down, you knew you couldn't compete with her. He would always choose her before you. Yet you were only 16 years old when you discovered he got you pregnant. This news terrified you so much. You didn't want to lose him, and you knew he was already going through so much shit stuff with his family and his "business." Better yet, you were scared about how your family would react, let alone his. At least you have Debbie, your best friend, who's also pregnant with you.

Warning! Teen pregnancy, Mention of torment, Mention of favoritism, Small spoiler, Cussing

Note! If any of that makes you uncomfortable- DON'T READ THE STORY!

Word count: 732

[Angst/Fluff]

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, PART 9, Part 10 (Completed)

Shameless Masterlist

Fandom Masterlists

/"Talking"//Thinking//Muttering-Whispering/

***Narrators Pov***

It's been about two months since the confrontation occurred, and Y/n is now in her second trimester. Meanwhile, Dom is only about a month or so.

At some point between the two months, Carl managed to convince Y/n to give him one last chance. To his surprise, she said yes. Luckily for him, she still loved him.

Throughout the two months, Y/n’s baby bump has become more noticeable, and that made her school life even worst.

With Carl constantly having to baby Dom with practically everything, Y/n was left to fend for herself. She wasn't too happy with it, of course; this just fueled her belief that she would always be his second choice.

Carl tried to care for them both, but being an adulting teenager is hard. He was forced to work for his sister's dinner “Patsy’s Pie” as a dishwasher. He was so embarrassed by it that he didn’t want anyone to know. Fiona only told him, “Money’s money. No matter how you make it.” That made him question why she never wanted to use his drug money. He could have helped the family a whole lot faster…

Time skip!~

Carl was sitting on the couch cuddling with Y/n when all of a sudden, he got a call from Dom.

“CARL COME QUICK!”

Mind you, Y/n and Dom didn’t stop being enemies. However, by this point, Y/n was already sick of everything. She was over it. She didn’t really care what Carl would do as much as she didn’t before. So, she let him go.

“Sorry baby,” Carl kissed you on the cheek- “But you of all people know what Winslow would do to me if I don’t go…”

“Yeah, yeah-” You shoved him away from you. “Go already.”

“I love you.” He said, rushing out of the door.

You just sighed.

Time skip!~

At the Winslow’s household Carl knocked on the door only to find it already open. The house was quite messy. He walked in to hear something fall to the ground.

“Dom!” He rushed upstairs and slammed her door open- “What’s wrong?!”

“OH Good!” Dom turned around holding two dresses- “I need your help picking out a dress for homecoming!”

Carl looked at her as if she was insane… He looked around her room- it was in total chaos.

“Dom… What makes you think-” Carl was somewhat baffled. “Why do you want me to help you with this?”

“Well-” She looked at him as if he was dumb. “Homecoming isn’t every day. Besides I wanted to talk to you about which color scheme we should go with-” She raised the blue dress “Blue? Or-” She raised the red dress “Red?"

“Are you serious right now… I THOUGHT YOU GOT HURT?!”

Dom looked at him confused. “What makes you say that?”

“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe It’s cause your house is a complete mess! Not to mention your front door was OPEN!”

“Oh well… my dad must have forgotten to lock it or something- Look that doesn’t matter! Your here now-”

“No!” Carl interrupted her. “This whole thing doesn’t matter!”

“What are you talking about!? Of course, this matters!”

“NO, it doesn’t, Dom! I don’t care about homecoming! I might not even go! Besides, if I did, what makes you think I’d go with you?!”

Dom started to cry…

“This is my first homecoming! I’ve dreamed of this! YOU know how much I wanted this! Do you honestly think I WANTED TO GO PREGNANT?! Do you know how many plans I had to cancel because I’m pregnant? Don’t FORGET, CARL. I’m carrying YOUR BABY TOO!”

“Of course, I can’t forget! You WON’T LET ME!”

And with that, Dom stormed out of the room… Carl felt kind of bad, but he was just so over it. He was in love with Y/n- He wanted to be with her- but he can’t now. Not entirely, at least.

While Dom was probably crying in the bathroom, he decided to fix up her room. He did feel somewhat bad for saying all that, but he wouldn’t take any of it back. It was how he felt. He wasn’t the type to apologize if he knew he didn’t actually mean it.

As Carl was cleaning up, he found some papers, documents…

“The he*l…” Carl looked at the papers closer- “DNA tests? Wha…” 

#shameless #carl gallagher #carl gallagher x reader #young love #teenage romance #teen pregnancy #drama #foul language #fanfiction #small spoilers #mention of favoritism #mention of torment #arguing